Post by walkindude on Jan 2, 2019 10:30:30 GMT
Hello friends,
The piece that follows is a bit of a departure for me, as I was looking for a new way to introduce a character that didn't involve hammering out a bio, intro promo or match. Instead I sort of did a little bit of everything and blended it into one convenient read. Hope you enjoy and Happy New Year!
~RF
********
The FAWN logo dissolved to a medium shot of what at first glance appeared to be a library. Shelves occupied every inch of visible wall-space and those shelves were filled to capacity, not with books, but a vast array of VHS tapes, DVD’s, Blu Rays and yes, even a few laser discs. Though the camera didn’t zoom close enough to confirm any individual names, sharp-eyed fans could discern the distinctive purple cases FAWN used for their home video releases. Just as revealing was the man seated at a small table set in front of the central shelf. Somewhere in his mid-thirties, he sported a close-cropped beard, shoulder length brown hair and black-framed glasses that looked like they belonged on the clerk in an antique toy shop.
Couple these details with his well worn ‘Woodsboro Mangler’ tee-shirt and those FAWNatics who made a point of keeping up with behind the scenes workings probably recognized the man before he nodded to the camera and said, “Hello friends. Kent Allard here, checking in from the FAWN Archive in Orlando with the first installment of a regular… semi-regular… occasionally irregular? Heck, I don’t know. Let’s just call it the first in an occasional series. Anyway, this is the Allard Archive where we’ll cover a wide range of topics, be they famous or obscure moments in FAWN history, sometimes it might be a deep dive on one of our most vaunted names and sometimes, like today for instance, it’ll serve as a primer and introduction to one of our newest hires. And seeing as how that’s probably the best segue I can produce, if the camera would be so kind as to pan out a bit… yep, there we go.”
The widened angle revealed Allard’s guest as a woman in her mid-twenties, with dark hair and eyes, the former swept back in a messy bob that just tickled the nape of her neck. She wore faded fog-gray jeans and a oversized midnight blue hoodie emblazoned with the TCWW logo of Twin Cities Women’s Wrestling, a standout independent promotion based out of Minneapolis.
Pointing a hand in the direction of his guest, Kent said, “For those of you who follow the indy scene this woman needs no introduction, but for those of you who stick exclusively to FAWN, it is my distinct pleasure to introduce you to ‘The Sweet Disaster’, Bridget Stroud. Bridget, welcome to the Archive, welcome to Orlando and of course, welcome to FAWN.”
BRIDGET STROUD:
Bridget smiled, shook the archivist’s hand, then offered a wave to the camera. “Thank you for having me on the show, first episode no less! And thanks even more for showing me around earlier. I’ve only been in town for about a month now and this place is still kind of intimidating.”
“Intimidating? From what I hear you strolled in and crushed the best record on the climbing wall on your first day! Doesn’t sound like you were intimidated in the slightest.”
Stroud looked mildly embarrassed. “Well, that’s an exception. Rock climbing’s been a passion of mine for years, so a climbing wall might as well be a welcome mat. Definitely made for a great icebreaker when I first met Lily.”
Kent nodded, swung his attention back to the camera. “At this point some of you are probably going, ‘I know her. I’ve seen her on FAWN television before now, where have I seen her?’ Allow me to answer before you rush to your smart phones. Back in the summer of 2015, Lily Burlingame was in the middle of her Lightweight title reign when she made an appearance on Proving Ground, the show where insanely athletic types join forces to take on an equally insane… obstacle course seems like a gross understatement. What would you call it?”
Bridget grinned. “Fun.”
“And that’s why I keep records rather than make them.” Allard replied. “Point is, Lily appeared on Proving Ground during their annual Celebrity Tournament, wherein famous folks are paired up with athletes from all over the country to raise money for charities of their choice. The Star Strider was teamed with a rock climbing instructor from Minnesota and to say they ran away with the damned thing would be another gross understatement. At the time I recall words like ridiculous, astounding and unbeatable being thrown around with some frequency.” Turning his attention to Bridget again, Allard went on, “I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say the two of you stole the show, do you agree?”
No embarrassment from Stroud this time, she just beamed and nodded. “Yeah, the producers cut that last race to make it look closer than it was, but Lily and I were on a different level that year. We crushed that tournament.”
“And you’d never met Lily before Proving Ground, correct?”
“Yes. I knew who she was because my then boyfriend had a huge crush on Sue so I’d watch FAWN with him from time to time. I enjoyed it, but I wouldn’t go so far as to call myself a regular fan. Not then, at least.”
“So it’s safe to say that going into the Proving Ground tapings you didn’t have the least interest in stepping between the ropes?”
“Not in the slightest. The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind.”
Kent arched an eyebrow. “Yet here we are barely three years later and you’ve signed a contract with FAWN coming off a run that’s included stops in Twin Cities Women’s Wrestling, Appalachian Battle Cats, Polaris Pro Wrestling and most recently Pacific Coast Women’s Wrestling. That’s a stellar resume assembled in a remarkably short time. So what happened between ‘never crossed my mind’ to joining me here on the show?”
Stroud treated him to a knowing look. “As if you don’t know. She‘s your girlfriend after all”
Kent chuckled. “I’ve heard her tell it. I’d like to hear you tell it.”
“Fair enough. I was backstage with Lily after we’d won the finals. She’d brought a few other wrestlers with her to fill out the cheering section. Maddy and Ronnie were there, so was Sue, and of course Lenore…”
*****
The green room, so recently crowded with agents, executives, and Bridget’s family was empty save for the winning team and a handful of FAWN talents. Stretched out on a few couches arranged in a U around a low coffee table still laden with canapés and champagne, the women’s conversation continued much as it had earlier, though the mood was far more relaxed now that the suits had taken their leave.
“I gotta say,” Maddy noted around a mouthful of crab puff, “I thought the finals were going to be a helluva lot closer. I mean, you guys squared off with a national swimming champion and the chick from that wizard show ‘Ronnie doesn’t want anyone to know she watches.”
Pausing amidst a return trip to the cheese platter, the Dangerous Dame picked up a cube of gruyere and flicked it at the redhead only to join the others in a round of applause when Crane caught it in her mouth.
“As I was saying.” Maddy resumed a moment later. “Those chicks struck me as world class gym rats, but you and Lily made ‘em look like pikers.”
Stroud smiled but shrugged her shoulders as well, clearly uncomfortable with praise from people she’d only ever seen from the far side of a television screen. “Lily did the heavy lifting.” she noted. “Considering the lead she built on the elf girl, I could’ve loafed my way through the back end and still won with ten seconds to spare.”
“Bullshyt!” the younger Burlingame spoke up. “Elf or not, she was MAYBE a couple lengths behind me when you got the tag. They still had a good shot of winning the whole thing, but the swimmer just couldn’t hang after that first stretch. She was no match for you Bridget, pure and simple.”
“Or that crazy Spiderman shyt you were busting out at the--”
“Parkour, Maddy.” Sue interrupted. “It’s called Parkour.”
The Queen of the Facebusters remained unfazed. “Look, whatever you call it, it was goddamned cool. I mean if I could pull off some of that stuff in the ring folks would be losing their minds. And I’d probably have to deal with Domi for gimmick infringement, but hey, what the hell.”
“That’s an interesting idea.” Veronica chimed in. “Have you ever considered getting in the ring?”
Five sets of eyes shifted to Bridget, the sudden focus making her sit up in surprise. “Who, me? Wrestling? Like, in a ring?”
“That’s generally where it takes place, yes.” Lenore noted with a dry smile.
Bridget shook her head. “No, that’s just… wild. I mean, Nate, my boyfriend, I’m sure he’d think it was amazing but… don’t you guys train for years?”
“We do.” Veronica confirmed. “Truth is you never stop training, unless you like getting your ass handed to you in front of a crowd. But natural athleticism can make the basics a lot less intimidating than they would be for most people. And gauging from what I saw tonight, you’ve got that in spades.”
“Ok sure, but you guys strip down to a bikini or a leotard or whatever and go out there in front of thousands of people what, three or four times a week?”
Now it was Lily’s turn to shrug. “So? You just ran some madman’s obstacle course in a sports-bra and lycra short shorts and you did it for a national audience during prime time. It’s really not a stretch to think you could make a go of it in the ring. Personally I think you’d be a natural.”
“Agreed.” Maddy nodded. “If you wanted to give it a shot I could point you to half a dozen trainers before the night’s over.
“No one’s trying to pressure you.” Treymane said after she noted Bridget’s wide-eyed expression. “But like Maddy said, if you wanted to try… I think you’d take to it almost at once.” Veronica caught a look from Sue out of the corner of one eye so she turned in the Rainmaker’s direction. “You disagree, Ace?”
The elder Burlingame took a pull from her beer before answering. “Not exactly. Bridget here is a freak athlete and I mean that with the utmost respect. But she’s already realized something that I don’t think has occurred to the rest of you just yet. Namely, scaling a cliff, be it in a gym or an actual mountainside, is completely different than competing in a wrestling match. They require a lot of the same things, sure. Rigorous training, the proper equipment and probably half a dozen other things, but when you’re going up a cliff the competition is exclusively internal, unless you’re trying to beat someone else’s time. And even then it’s not like they’re climbing the wall at the same time actively trying to pull you off. With proper preparation, planning and enough endurance an experienced climber should conquer the climb sooner than later. In wrestling on the other hand, you can prepare and train until you’re at your absolute best and sometimes it’s just not enough to get the job done. Sometimes--”
“Sometimes you get your ass kicked.” Lenore broke in. “Sometimes the girl in the other corner is just better. It sucks, but it’s the truth.”
Lily, Maddy and Veronica offered an answering nod.
“That’s true.” the Crimson Comet admitted. “Everyone can have a bad night out there. Or maybe you have the misfortune of running into a girl that’s about to have the match of her life. It’s a risk you take every time you go through the curtain.”
“You have to want to win.” Ronnie added quietly. “If you don’t, you might as well stay in the back because you’re going to get embarrassed.”
“Or hurt.” Mads said.
“Or both in equal measure.” Susan finished for both of them. “The point is, anyone can train to be a wrestler, just like you can train to do anything else. But to make a living at it? To thrive at it? That requires a very special sort of competitive drive. And a certain fearlessness that’ll let you keep going when everything’s gone to shyt and there’s a whole arena full of people cheering for the chick currently kicking your ass.”
Silence held for a moment, then Lenore took a sip of her champagne and said, “What we do isn’t for everyone. Maybe you’re a natural in waiting, maybe you’re not. No shame in either option, but if the thought of a crowd makes you nervous, I’d put my money on the latter.”
“Hold on a sec.” Bridget raised one hand, palm out. “I didn’t say anything about being nervous. I’ve tackled some of the most difficult climbs in the country already and I hope to do three more in the next couple of years. If I can do that without freezing up I think I can handle some dudes whistling about my ass even if I am in trunks and a sports-bra.”
“Easy to say now.” Lemarchand replied. “It’s something else entirely once some mean-spirited brat with evil intentions has snatched a handful of your waistband so she can paddle your ass WHILE she shows it to the crowd.”
An odd little tingle ran down Bridget Stroud’s spine. During the next three years she’d come to know it quite well, but on that night it was more disconcerting than exhilarating. Leaning forward in her seat, she honed in on Lenore and asked, “You really don’t think I can hack it?”
The Raven refrained from leaning forward herself, though it took far more effort than she cared to admit. “To be determined. Possibly. If you’re asking for a snap assessment of raw potential I’d say you’re untested and leave it at that.”
Bridget drummed her fingers on the tabletop for several seconds. Eventually she looked at Maddy. “Help me move this thing, would you Maddy?”
“Why?” Crane drew the word out like someone who already knew the answer.
“Well how am I going to wrestle Lenore with this thing in the way? C’mon, help me move it over there. The rest of you can move these couches back some, we’ll need some room, right?”
Maddy shrugged got to her feet and grabbed the other side of the table. She and Bridget had made it less than five steps when Lily raised her voice. “Hold on, hold on a sec, Bridget. This really isn’t a good idea. You’ve been drinking!”
“Oh, one glass of cheap network champagne, I’m good to go, Lil’.”
“Are you kidding? You just ran an obstacle course that’d make most gym rats break out in hives!”
With the table moved well away from the ring of couches, Bridget turned around, hands on her hips. “Please. I barely broke a sweat, same as you. And you already said the swimmer was no match for me, right?”
Flustered, Lily looked to her older sister for support, but Sue offered nothing but a maddening little smile. “Well yeah, I suppose. But that doesn’t mean--”
Stroud grabbed the bottom edge of her oversized black ‘Proving Ground’ tee-shirt and peeled it off to reveal the purple & white shorts and sports-bra she’d worn for the obstacle. “I signed up for this show because I wanted a challenge.” Bridget spoke to Lily, but her eyes were locked on Lenore. “The swimmer couldn’t do it. The race couldn’t do it. Maybe Lenore can. If she’s ready to put her money where her mouth is.”
Now the Raven did lean forward, though she didn’t get up from her seat. “Is that a challenge, Bridget?”
Stroud threw the balled-up shirt at Lemarchand’s feet. “That’s a challenge, babe.”
Lenore nodded, slid out of her shoes, then stood up. She’d just reached for the top button on her jeans when she paused. “How do you want to do--”
“Pins ONLY!” Lily’s tone brooked no dissent. “Fifteen minute time limit, three count falls. NO hair-pulling. NO nails. No slapping. NO punching. NO catty crap whatsoever, understand? Just pure grappling, plain and simple. If we’re gonna do something this dumb we might as well do it right. Agree right now or I’ll shut everything down, got it?”
Bridget plucked a band from around one wrist and used it to pull her hair back in a short ponytail. “I got it, Lil’. Most pins in fifteen minutes makes me a winner.”
Lemarchand had stripped down to a tank-top and strappy black panties with a speed that suggested frequent practice. Once her jeans and blouse were neatly folded, she positioned herself in what best approximated a corner and drew her hair back in a similar (albeit much longer) fashion. “Fifteen minutes doesn’t seem like a long time, but I assure you it can feel like forever.” she said softly. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
Bridget nodded leaned forward and patted her thighs before bracing both hands against her knees. “Start the clock. Or ring the bell, whatever the hell it is you guys do.”
Lenore thanked her with a small smile and a beckoning finger. “Then by all means, show me what you’ve got, sweetie.”
********
Stroud paused to sip from a Slaughtered Lamb pint glass, which prompted Kent to ask, “And then?”
“She proceeded to pin my ass about eight times over the next fifteen minutes!” Bridget answered with a laugh.
“Way I heard it told, you managed to pin her twice during that same span. And a certain Crimson Comet noted the whole thing was a lot more competitive than that score might indicate.”
“I certainly wouldn’t call it close, but yeah, I got her down a time or two.” the brunette confirmed. “Not gonna lie, Kent. I hate losing. That’s why I work so hard to be the best at whatever goals I set for myself. But a funny thing happened when Lenore helped me off the mat afterward. I wasn’t demoralized and I wasn’t angry, I was excited! I wanted to try it again. I wanted to get better. Getting pinned was one of the most frustrating things I’d ever endured as an athlete. DOING the pinning on the other hand? That was exhilarating and I wanted to experience it again as fast as I could.”
“So it’s safe to say you took Maddy up on her offer?”
“And Veronica, and the Burlingame sisters, and Lenore too. Two weeks later I’d signed up for my first class at the TCWW gym in Minneapolis and the rest is history.”
“Thanks for leading us so nicely to my next topic.” Kent said with a smile. “Let’s fast forward about eight months. You debuted a few months prior, which, I should note is an almost unheard of turnaround time and speaks volumes to your ability to pick things up quickly. You’d worked several cards around Minnesota in those first few months, but by your own admission were still feeling like more of a special attraction than an actual member of the roster. Why was that?”
“I think it was more a marketing issue than anything else.” Bridget told him after a moment’s thought. “Remember, Proving Ground was still fresh on everybody’s minds even months later and Twin Cities never missed an opportunity to plaster ‘NATIONAL TV STAR!’ next to my name on the flyers. It was flattering in a way, but I didn’t want to be known as the girl who won a game show, I wanted to be the girl people were talking about when they left the arena that night.”
“Considering what happened next, I’d say this is a textbook example of being careful what you wish for.”
“Tell me about it.” Stroud rubbed the back of her head, apparently without thinking about it.
“What’s the fun in that? You were there, you tell me, and everyone else, about it!”
Bridget snickered softly. “All right. So I’d just finished off Angie Ivybridge with the Cliffhanger and was taking the opportunity to celebrate with the crowd. I’d just come off the second corner when I turned around and took my very first steel chair to the gut. Definitely not pleasant and it only got worse when she smashed it down on my back.”
“The ‘she’ in question is Nightshade, yes?”
“The ‘Notorious’ Nightshade,” Bridget corrected the Archivist, “don’t let her hear you forget the first part unless you want her coming after you full force. Anyway, I’m down on all fours after the chair shots so she locked me in the Deadly Nightshade and proceeded to scream at me until half a dozen referees came down the peel her off. The next night she stormed the ring after intermission to tell everyone who would listen that she wasn’t going to stand by and let some D-List celebrity get all the attention unless she was leaving in an ambulance.”
“And being the levelheaded rationalist that you are, I’m certain you chose to reply in a calm, reasonable fashion. Am I right?”
“Uhhhh no. I rushed the ring with my own chair and tried to bash her into a stupor. She hid behind security until I threw the chair down. Things deteriorated from there.”
Allard consulted his notes, though it was a mere formality done as a favor to the producer, he knew the details backward and forward. “You had three matches over the next two months or so. She won the first with the Belldonna Bomb following a rather nasty eye rake. You turned the tables in the second match by Reversing that same move into an Inside Cradle, but you didn’t get to enjoy it for very long because--”
“Because the nasty skank went ham with another chair after the match.” Bridget said sourly. “I was sick of the beatdowns and her attitude by that point, so I challenged her to a No Disqualifications Hardcore Match at the Spring Thaw card.”
“Here’s where we come to the show part of show & tell.” Kent told the camera. “I’ve got the finish to that match cued up. Check this out folks, I think you’ll dig it.”
********
NIGHTSHADE:
“So you think you’re tough, Hollywood? Think you’re strong enough to do what we do night in and night out?” Nightshade snarled as she peeled Bridget off the mat, thumped a Kneelift into her belly, then leaned over the rookie’s exposed back to secure a rough Gutwrench around Stroud’s hips. Hands locked, the Noxious Nymph glanced at a battered trashcan fallen on its side several feet away. “Well let’s see how tough you are when there’s no ropes to break your fall!”
With that ‘Shade muscled Stroud off the mat, spun her over in mid-ascent and sent her flying halfway across the squared circle with a Gutwrench Toss that KERR-UNCHED Bridget down atop the discarded hardware!
GUTWRENCH TOSS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=VAoYvun0fTc
“AWWWWW FAAAHHHHHHHHK!” she arched her back at once, the brunette writhing like she’d been touched with a live wire. “Savage bytch! You’ll pay for OOOOOFFFFHHH!”
Nightshade bounced off the ropes, took to the skies and THWHUMPED across her victim’s tummy with a low-flying Frog Splash that sent Stroud’s legs kicking into the lights. Delighted by the breathy crash-pad, the black-clad brunette hooked her prey’s far leg with one hand and braced her other forearm across Bridget’s jaw. The TCWW faithful were already urging ‘Sweet Disaster’ to dig deep when the ref swooped in to count…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOO!
Bridget twitched a shoulder off the mat with half a heartbeat between her and another punishing defeat. “Oh, you think that makes you some kind of a badass?” ‘Shade scoffed. She slapped Bridget’s mouth just because she could, grabbed a double handful of hair and hoisted her up once more. “Survive this without needing an ambulance, then MAYBE I’ll consider you something more than a publicity stunt!”
The ‘this’ in question remained a mystery while Nightshade slipped an arm between the newcomer’s thighs and hupped her into a gut-first perch across her right shoulder. It wasn’t until the Corrosive Cupid laid claim to Stroud’s biceps and lifted her into a face-first Crucifix that the crowd remembered the steel chair wedged between the top and middle turnbuckles of the corner directly behind Nightshade. Nodding ‘yes, yes, yes!’ to quash the pleas of the merciful, ‘Shade swung around in a half circle, sighted in on her target and took off at a dead run. Only vaguely aware of the doom rushing up to meet her, Stroud still understood that she didn’t want or need to be on her opponent’s shoulder for a second longer. To that end she kicked her legs like a madwoman and damned if she didn’t shimmy down Nightshade’s back with a few steps between herself and the corner. Slowed by the unexpected resistance, the Poisonous Pin-Up would’ve rounded on Stroud in an instant if the other brunette hadn’t put both hands on the small of her back and shoved with all her might! Shock was followed by delight from those assembled when ‘Shade flew forward and BAWAAANGED skull-first into the waiting steel!
The brunette’s legs gave way and she collapsed to one knee, but the ropes and muscle memory proved strong enough to help ‘Shade back to her feet within a second or two. Of course mere verticality wasn’t much of a defense, as Bridget noted when she stormed in and hooked her right arm across Nightshade’s chest so that hand was cupped under the woozy warrior’s left arm. Catching hold of her rival’s waistband with her other hand, Stroud wheeled around to face the center of the ring, then bellowed “GOING UP!” This earned a hearty roar from the crowd, as did the subsequent wedgie that reduced ‘Shade’s black briefs by a good three quarters en route to hoisting her skyward and PLANTING her on the deck when she laid out on her right side.
ROCKED BOTTOMS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=CmboQR00mwM
Rocked Bottoms got the fans on their feet clamoring for a cover and Bridget wanted to oblige them, yet her competitor’s instincts told her the other woman wasn’t quite finished yet, so she got to her feet and limped over to the chair that’d fallen out of the corner after ‘Shade rammed it with her noggin. Hefting it two-handed, she walked back to Nightshade and raised it overhead before letting it drop to one side. “I’ve fallen before, baby. And I’ll fall again, probably sooner than I’d like. But I always get up. Can you say the same?”
‘Shade only groaned, even after Stroud set the chair beside her so she could indulge in a handful of hair. Drawing the other brunette up in stages, Bridget spiked a quick Toe Kick into her navel just so she could secure the Standing Headscissors. Then she lifted / flipped Nightshade onto her right shoulder, ‘Shade cursing her way back to reality as her spine bent around the posted joint. Stroud paid this no mind, she only moved her hands to opposing biceps and muscled her that much higher courtesy of a traditional Crucifix. Already loud, the TCWW threatened to blow the roof off when Bridget looped her right arm across ‘Shade’s chest and swung her down into a freefalling Front Facelock and sat out on her tush to BUHWHANG her foe’s forehead into the chair with ring-rattling force!
CLIFFHANGER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=SwHsM-g5gCM
Blown onto her back in an unconscious starfish by that devastating Cliffhanger, Nightshade didn’t even mutter when Bridget collected both legs in a bundle and folded her in half for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
Sweet Disaster sprang to her feet with the clang of the bell, Bridget pumping an elbow in time with her victory roar. “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner of the match… BRIDGET STROUD!”
********
Cut back to the FAWN Archive where Kent nods his approval of what he’s just seen. “An emphatic way to win your first program, Bridget. And it seems you took to the hardcore / no disqualification stipulation quicker than Nightshade would’ve expected or enjoyed.”
Stroud answered with a modest smile and a hand raked through her hair. “I don’t think it’d surprise anyone to hear me say I am… aggressively competitive, sometimes to my own detriment. I can say with all honesty that I didn’t go into that match with the intention of planting ‘Shade’s face in a chair, but she pushed the wrong button and she paid the price.”
“I’d ask if she’d learned her lesson, but I know the two of you had a Ladder Match about three months after this match and your rivalry continued pretty much through the end of your independent bookings.”
“Yes, she was one of the very last matches I wrestled before I came down to Orlando. Not the VERY last, that was--”
Kent raised a hand to cut her off. “We’ll get to your archrival soon enough, before we do, let’s flash forward about a year. TCWW is still your home promotion, but you’ve started to branch out down south, including an impressive run with Appalachian Battle Cats, a women’s promotion based out of Southern Virginia. Would you be so kind as to fill our viewers in on how you came to land a spot on their roster?”
Bridget’s eyes lit up, her expression that of someone recalling a very fond memory. “Certainly! Every year in December, ABC runs their ‘Christmas Carousing’ card which is highlighted by an invitational Battle Royale for their best talents as well as other indy women from all over the county. TCWW got to fill three slots so they sent ‘Shade, myself and she who shall be named later. It’s a thirty woman affair, over the top eliminations with the winner getting a shot at their champion. Of course the catch is that the champion is ALSO in the match and if she wins she gets to handpick her next three title defenses AND collect a check for ten thousand dollars.”
“A strong incentive to say the least.” Allard confirmed. “And the final four was pretty remarkable. It was yourself, Carrie Cavendish, Sadia Morales and the ABC champion, Clara Boone.”
“The Honky Tonk Angel herself.” Bridget mused.
“Now you managed to low bridge Carrie over the top rope and shortly thereafter Clara sent Sadia into the third or fourth row with a Military Press and now you’re alone in the squared circle with one of the most popular Destroyers of the last five years. She’s got every reason to wanna hurl you over the top rope as fast as possible.”
“Yeah she did! And she didn’t settle for a plain old toss, chick tried to Powerbomb me from the ring to the floor!”
“But one well timed Frankensteiner later and…”
Bridget popped both thumbs and pointed to herself. “I’d won my first Battle Royale! AND earned my first World Championship opportunity.”
“Which came at ABC’s ‘Screw Your Resolutions!’ card at the end of January. You and Clara headlined a stacked card in front of a hot crowd. Not only that, you managed to split an audience that started the night in Clara’s hip pocket. I’ve got the finish of that match ready to go, mind if we show them how it went down?”
Bridget rolled her shoulders like she was hyping herself up. “Yeah. I’ve been meaning to watch this again. So let’s watch it together.”
“You heard the lady.” Kent said. “Roll it!”
********
CLARA BOONE:
Hands locked against the small of her opponent’s back, Clara Boone flipped hair out of her eyes then shook the Bear Hug back n’ forth to earn around round of pained groaning from the challenger. “Hung in there a good long while, Bridg’.” she said to the visiting brunette. “Hung in there a helluva lot longer than most of these people expected.” Boone suddenly jolted in place, causing the Scissors looped around her hips to bounce and slide. Stroud moaned, hunched forward over the taller woman’s right shoulder and pounded a couple desperate elbows into her upper back. Clara grimaced, made the smaller wrestler pay with another hard shake. “It’s closing time, honey.” the Honky Tonk Angel explained. “And even though you flirted as hard as you could, that big gold belt is still coming home with me tonNGH!”
Stroud gouged her elbow into the side of Boone’s skull, then cinched that arm around her noggin to secure a Front Facelock. Crossing her ankles to put more squeeze back in the Scissors, Bridget leaned back as far as she could in a desperate effort to bring the champ to the mat. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that, babe.” she huffed. “The gold’s been looking at me ever since you strutted out here and I think he’d look great snapped around my waiHEY WHOOOAAAHH!”
Clara halved the Hug to secure a Facelock of her own. Once Bridget’s head was secured she relinquished the rest of the Hug to grab hold of Stroud’s waistband. An impressed ‘oooooohhhhh!’ from the sold out crowd when Boone dropped, then popped her hips to prize those Scissors apart and swing Bridget to high noon for a Vertical Supl--
“NNNNGGGGHHHH!”
Stroud pounded her knee into the top of Clara’s head with enough force to put a waver in those sturdy stems. Another two knees to the noggin had Boone wobbling in place but the local fans were confident their heroine could power through for-- Bridget kicked her legs down and in, swinging back the way she’d came to end up on her back while Clara was THAWHONKED skull-first into the mat with a championship-threatening DDT!
Boone rolled through to a seat, might’ve stayed there if Stroud hadn’t rushed over and stretched her out flat on the deck. Throwing herself atop the bigger brunette as roughly as she could, Stroud collected both legs in a bundle and folded Clara in half, pointing her butt toward the lights while the ref counted…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOO!
Clara bucked loose with a whisper to spare, the curvaceous brunette forcing herself to all fours in a tenacious defense against future encroachment. As for Bridget, she pounded a fist against the canvas, looked around the ring and honed in on the turnbuckle directly behind her penitent adversary. On her feet in a trice, she hurried to the corner and sprang to the high rent district, the nimble rookie twisting in mid-ascent so she landed in a crouch facing the Honky Tonk Angel. “C’MON!” Stroud shouted over the din in an effort to rally her burgeoning fan base. This proved a good idea because the crowd responded in kind, the once partisan throng now almost a perfect split between the homegrown champion and her visiting challenger.
Straightening up when Boone did the same, Bridget leapt the instant her opponent turned around, the Sweet Disaster getting a whole lotta air off the Diving Crossbody that THWHUMPED across Clara’s chest and sent both wrestlers tumbling to the mat for--NOOOO! An even louder roar from the ABC loyalists when Clara rolled through the landing, powered to one knee and then clambered to boot-leather with Bridget still strapped across her chest. Offering the crowd a hard-working grin, Boone dipped her knees, then flipped Stroud up ‘n over, the smaller lass coming to rest bent over her opponent’s shoulders in an agonizing Torture Rack!
“AAAAAAAHHHH SHHHIIIITTT!” Bridget wailed in agony as the powerhouse cranked down on her chin and thigh.
Clara jounced in place for perhaps five seconds before she asked, “Ready to call it a night, honey? You sound wore out.”
“NO!” Bridget waggled a finger frantically to make sure the official knew she was still in this thing. “NO, I’M NOT! YOU WON’T GRRRRRHHHHNNNNNGGHHH!”
Boone reefed down on the Torture Rack, then brought the fans to their feet with a swaggering bit of dance hall do-si-do that turned her to all four sides of the armory just before she hopped up and came down on her knees! Caught deep on the Wrong Side of Memphis, Bridget bounced from her foe’s clutches and rolled down her back to land facedown just behind ABC’s alpha female.
WRONG SIDE OF MEMPHIS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=s3A5TlzqcPo
Clara was as eager for a pin as the rest of her fans, yet the brunette wasn’t entirely convinced of her ability to obtain this treasure just yet which was why she buried her hands in Stroud’s hair and peeled her off the mat. Unable to rest easy until victory was assured, Boone hooked her left arm over Bridget’s shoulder and threaded her right arm between the smaller wrestler’s thighs. Helping herself to a firm handful of backside, Clara muscled Stroud up across her chest a second time and took a little saunter around the ring as she decided her next move. It was all a show of course, the champ knew exactly what she was gonna do and so did the crowd. That’s why their cheers continued to grow in volume until Boone abruptly planted on her right foot and swung hard in that direction, the Honky Tonk Angel laying out flat to THAWHAM Bridget against the thinly-sheathed plywood!
NEON RAINBOW:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=9UqrHABskhk
Crushed flat by the glittering power of Boone’s ‘Neon Rainbow’, Stroud only moaned fitfully when Clara trapped the far leg in a snug cradle and nodded along for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
Victorious once more, Clara released her hooks and put both hands on Bridget’s gulping tummy, a subtle but unmistakable show of dominance that made the Announcer’s proclamation essentially redundant. “Ladies and gentlemen your winner via pin-fall and STILL the ABC World Champion… CLARA BOONE!”
********
“Always tough coming up short in a title match, especially your very first try.” Kent sympathized when the feed cut back to the Archive. “But an impressive showing nonetheless and if folks watch the full match, link provided right…. here,” he pointed to a spot in the lefthand corner where a URL did in fact appear, “they’ll see that you scored several more near falls earlier in the match and got a ‘please come back’ chant from the crowd after the match was over.”
“Yeah, it stung to end my first Main Event as a loser, but the fans definitely warmed up to me during that match, so much so that I was booked there probably a dozen more times over the next year and a half. Never did manage to take the belt off Clara, that woman is so STRONG, but I used the disappointment as motivation to keep working my way up the TCWW ranks.”
“You’d almost reached the top of the proverbial mountain.” Kent agreed. “Of course at that time the top of said mountain was ruled by a woman who’s arrogance is second only to her mat-wrestling wizardry. Her name, for the uninitiated is--”
“’Superlative’ Sutton Stonecliffe.” Bridget said the name like it tasted awful in her mouth. “She was the first woman I genuinely came to hate. I’m sorry if that sounds awful, but it’s the truth. I hated her guts almost as much as she hated mine.”
Kent shifted in his seat, looking simultaneously interested and embarrassed when he asked, “What was the source of the animosity between you?”
“Same reason Sutton hates everyone.” Bridget shrugged. “No one’s on her level. No one’s good enough to share her ring. Far as she’s concerned, everyone else is trash to be swept into the gutter. She called me human garbage in a taped promo one week, so I called out her at the end of the show and dared her to say it to my face. She did, so I punched her right in the mouth. She proceeded to slap me so hard the whole left side of my face went numb. Things only got worse until the refs pulled us apart a few minutes later.”
“As a result of this altercation TCWW brass gave you a Championship match two weeks later at a show in St. Paul. It was ranked as one of Gladiatrix’s ten best matches of 2017 and I have to agree. Pitting Sutton’s technical expertise and viciousness against your power and inventiveness made for immediate fireworks. In truth the only real knock against that match came after the match when Stonecliffe…” Allard trailed off in search of the proper word.
“She humiliated me.” Stroud set flatly. “There’s no other word for it, Kent. She made me submit to the Superlative Sleeper and when I wouldn’t beg for mercy she stripped off my top and choked me out.”
Bridget swallowed a lump in her throat. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t show that clip.”
“No worries, I’ve got something more suitable waiting in the wings. Now, you achieved a measure of success the following month when you teamed with Abbey Roades against Sutton and Thea Ashton in a Tornado Tag. Not only did you win, you did so by pinning the champion after a Cliffhanger delivered on the apron. In so doing you left the Superlative One bloodied, which in turn caused her to--”
“Lose her shyt.” Bridget smiled for the first time since Stonecliffe’s name was mentioned. “That spoiled brat trashed the whole locker room, I heard it cost her a five thousand dollar fine. Drop in the bucket for a rich bytch like her, but it was extremely satisfying to watch her have to deliver it to the commissioner in the middle of the ring. It was even more satisfying when he told her I was getting a rematch the next month at Snow Brawl. Stony immediately invoked champion’s privilege to make it a Pure Rules match, not that I gave a damn. We were both out for revenge, no, we were out for blood. In the end we both got a little more than we’d bargained for.”
“And on THAT ominous note, let’s take a look at the last few minutes to that match.” Kent said cheerily.
********
“BREAK!” Bridget almost sobbed as she finally draped her left ankle over the bottom rope. “Break it, you bytch!”
Currently snuggled in high and tight against the brunette’s right side (the back of Stroud’s head was braced against her right shoulder) Sutton Stonecliffe tightened her S-grip and craaaaaaaaanked back on the modified Butterfly Lock that’d done so much damage to Sweet Disaster’s shoulders, neck and back over the last minute or so. “Not just yet you tacky slut.” the TCWW champion sneered. “I want to hear, aaaaahhh, there it is!”
SUTTON STONECLIFFE:
Close by, the Announcer said, “Ladies and gentlemen, Bridget Stroud has used her last rope break! She can no longer rely on the ropes to break pins or submissions!”
The Superlative One broke the hold with a flourish, bounced to her feet and took a moment to wipe check the cut her forehead before turning her attention to the jeering fans. “Oh, don’t sound so surprised!” she barked. “That no class piece of crap was never going to win this! In fact, I’ll show you idiots how it was always destined to end!”
Hurrying back to the wounded challenger (she’d bloodied Bridget’s nose less than three minutes after the opening bell) Stonecliffe grabbed hold of Stroud’s ankles and draaaaaaaaaaagged her into the middle of the ring. “NO!” Bridget protested the injustice even as Sutton slung her left leg across her right thigh, the beginning of a trap she knew far too well.
“Yes, yes, yes, my little garbage fire!” Stonecliffe teased as she stepped over the brunette’s left shin in something that looked like the love-child of a Figure Four and a Sharpshooter. “You’re going to scream my name or I’ll make sure you never show your face near a ring again!”
With that she rolled Bridget onto her belly and hunched forward so that her prey’s ankles were wedged firmly against her shin and thigh. Loathing the defenseless panic that washed over her, Bridget threw both arms over the back of her head as soon as she felt Sutton reach for her chin. This sort of turtling wouldn’t work for long against a patient sadist like the champion, but maybe she could “EEERRRRHHHHHHHH!”
Sutton plunged a hand into Stroud’s hair and wrenched her head backward, an infraction immediately noted by the official. “Hey, let go of her hair, Sutton! Do you want to lose your last rope break?”
Stonecliffe snorted in disdain. “Have you seen where I’ve got this little worm? She’s wriggling on my hook! I could give a damn about one more rope break!” The black-clad battler shook the hair-pull back n’ forth to emphasize the point.
“I mean it, Sutton! Let go of her hair or I’ll--”
Stonecliffe transitioned to a half Chinlock that would’ve been perfectly within the rules if she hadn’t balled her free hand into a fist and PWAAAKED it down atop Bridget’s nose! Pain exploded behind her eyes and quickly spread to her neck and shoulders as Sutton completed the Chinlock and reeeeeeeeeeeeefed back on the Superlative Sleeper.
SUPERLATIVE SLEEPER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Ws0zKjxTH0
Dimly she heard the Announcer say something about the evil witch using her last rope break, not that it registered as anything like useful information. Planting her hands on the deck, Bridget pushed up and worked her head from side to side. This alleviated a bit of the torque on her neck, but the challenger’s chin remained firmly in her nemesis’s possession.
“You are an inferior class of wrestler.” Sutton snapped at the struggling brunette. “A disposable class of woman. You have no business in my ring, just admit it before I break your neck!” She CRANKED up on the Chinlock, causing Bridget to wail in agony as one hand shot off the mat to prize and pull at those clutching hands. “No escape, cretin! Yes, that’s it! Reach for the ropes, they won’t do you any--” Stonecliffe fell into a furious silence when Stroud’s flailing smoothed out into a middle finger raised defiantly in her direction. “A predicatively vulgar response from a predicatively vulgar bytch.” she huffed. “I believe I’ll take your bottoms so I’ll have a complete set in my trophy casEEERRRRRHHHH REF! SHE’S BITING!”
The official only shrugged. “Shouldn’t have wasted that last break, I guess.”
Infuriated by the incompetent help, Sutton curled her other hand into a claw and slashed it across Bridget’s eyes. It took three tries, but she finally freed her fingers from the brunette’s maw. Forgetting all about the Superlative Sleeper, she dragged Stroud to her feet, THUMPED a Kneelift between her thighs, then reared back and turned her head to one side with a savage Bytch Slap. “Any last words before I dismiss you from my presence, worm?”
“Yuuuhhhh…. yes.” Bridget slurred. “What kind of soft bytch doesn’t know how to throw a proper slap?”
“You insolent slut.” Stonecliffe hissed. “Enjoy sipping your dollar menu dinner through a straw!”
She reared back and put all her strength into a jaw-cracking Bytch Slap that… sailed harmlessly over Bridget’s head. Ducking low just in time to slip beneath the strike, Stroud swung behind the blonde and threaded her left leg over Sutton’s left thigh. In the same breath she leaned across Stonecliffe’s back, hooked her left arm beneath Sutton’s right bicep and jerked back to complete the Abdominal Stretch!
Eyes wide with surprise and yes, fear, Stonecliffe twisted and squirmed, desperately fighting to get away before “UUUUUNNNGGHHHHHH!” Bridget curled her right hand into a claw and ‘SMECKED’ it down just above the champion’s right hip. “GIVE UP!” Stroud demanded as she tried to claw a hole through the blonde. “YOU’RE DONE, SUTTON! I WANT TO HEAR YOU SAY IT!”
Wrenched awkwardly over the post of her opponent’s thigh, Stonecliffe reached for the brunette’s wrist only to freeze halfway there because Bridget dug in that much deeper. Regaining control of herself after an unpleasant tremor, Sutton shook off the ref’s warning, then raised her questing hand toward Bridget’s face. Stroud saw it coming, turned her head to the side. “Don’t even think about it, girl.” she threatened. “Go for my eyes and you’re not going to RRRRRHHHHH!”
“Don’t you dare order me around!” Sutton couldn’t get at the challenger’s eyes, so she snatched a handful of hair and wrenched her head to the side. “I am not just your superior, I am the goddamned SuperlatiVAAAAAARRRRRHHHHHH YOU CHEAP BYTCH!”
Bridget made Stonecliffe pay for that arrogance by moving her Iron Claw between the blonde’s thighs. Stroud ignored the insult and kept tensing her fingers like Sutton’s crotch was a bit of cliffside that might break off at any moment. “You don’t get to talk about cheap.” Sweet Disaster grunted. “Not after what you’ve done to me.”
Shaking her head ‘no, no, no!’ as the anguish down below began to spread, Stonecliffe released the hair-hold so she could clamp down on her opponent’s encroaching wrist. “What I DID? You bytch, my putting those sub-par tits on display made you more relevant than you’ve ever AAAAAAAWWWWWWW!”
Bridget squeezed harder than ever and coupled it with several seconds of rough bouncing that made the Superlative One squirm and squeal. “Oh, you did me a favor huh? So you’d be ok if I went under your trunks? Imagine the YouTube hits!”
“Do it.” the blonde rasped. “And I’ll make sure you live just long enough to regretMMMMRRRPPPPPPHHHHHHHHHHH!”
Stroud abandoned her grip on Sutton’s crotch, but the reprieve proved fleeting as she promptly pressed that curled hand into the champion’s incredulous face! “You can do whatever the hell you want!” Bridget agreed as she gouged her fingertips into the other woman’s temples and hairline. “But not until you’ve tapped out!”
Sutton grabbed Bridget’s wrist and pulled with all her might, alas she only succeeded in mashing the challenger’s palm against her nose. Keening in a high, nasal whine she hated, Stonecliffe reeeeeeeeeached for the ropes in a meaningless gesture, scraped at Stroud’s straining forearm, then reached for the ropes until her arm dropped limp at her side.
“I said give, damn you!” Bridget growled. “Don’t think I’m going to let go just because you passed--” she felt a scrabbling at her boot and looked down to see Sutton tapping with what little she had left.
“Guuuuhhhh.. get off…” she whispered into Stroud’s palm. “I submit. Just let go already.”
Bridget looked up at once, desperately searching for the ref, however he’d already turned toward the Timekeeper. The bell CLANGED and Stroud’s legs went along with it, Bridget collapsing atop the wreckage of Sutton Stonecliffe. But whereas the Superlative One stayed facedown with nary a whimper, Sweet Disaster bounded to verticality heartbeats after the Announcer shouted, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via submission and the NEEEEEEEW TCWW Champion… BRIDGET STROUD!”
Doing her best to hold back tears when the ref handed her the belt, Bridget raised it one handed and slapped it in time with a three word demand she’d taken as a mantra. “NEVER! STOP! CLIMBING!”
********
“I would have to imagine,” Allard said when the clip ended, “that felt pretty damned vindicating.”
Bridget nodded emphatically before the question was even out of his mouth. “You have no idea, Kent. I can say with all honesty that winning the TCWW Championship from Stony is the most satisfying moment of my career thus far. Sutton never missed an opportunity to tell the fans that I didn’t belong, that I couldn’t make it to the main event, but not only did I make it, I took the fight to her with everything I had. And when we were both exhausted, battered and bleeding, Sutton quit and I kept going. I made it to the top of TCWW and got to hold that title high as a result. The last few years have been insane, to put it mildly, but now that I’ve been in the ring I can’t imagine doing anything else with my life.”
ent smiled wide, clearly pleased by her enthusiasm. “Well I think I can speak for all of your fans, as well as a few friends in the back, when I say I’m thrilled to see you here in Orlando. Any last words for the FAWNatics before we put a bow on this thing?”
troud mulled for a moment, then turned to the camera. “The only way to truly master a mountain is to start at the bottom and work your way up. That’s how I climbed all the others, that’s how I’ll climb FAWN. I don’t expect it to be easy, and I’ll probably fall along the way, but I’ll never stop climbing. My name is Bridget Stroud… and I’ll see you at the top.”
The piece that follows is a bit of a departure for me, as I was looking for a new way to introduce a character that didn't involve hammering out a bio, intro promo or match. Instead I sort of did a little bit of everything and blended it into one convenient read. Hope you enjoy and Happy New Year!
~RF
********
The FAWN logo dissolved to a medium shot of what at first glance appeared to be a library. Shelves occupied every inch of visible wall-space and those shelves were filled to capacity, not with books, but a vast array of VHS tapes, DVD’s, Blu Rays and yes, even a few laser discs. Though the camera didn’t zoom close enough to confirm any individual names, sharp-eyed fans could discern the distinctive purple cases FAWN used for their home video releases. Just as revealing was the man seated at a small table set in front of the central shelf. Somewhere in his mid-thirties, he sported a close-cropped beard, shoulder length brown hair and black-framed glasses that looked like they belonged on the clerk in an antique toy shop.
Couple these details with his well worn ‘Woodsboro Mangler’ tee-shirt and those FAWNatics who made a point of keeping up with behind the scenes workings probably recognized the man before he nodded to the camera and said, “Hello friends. Kent Allard here, checking in from the FAWN Archive in Orlando with the first installment of a regular… semi-regular… occasionally irregular? Heck, I don’t know. Let’s just call it the first in an occasional series. Anyway, this is the Allard Archive where we’ll cover a wide range of topics, be they famous or obscure moments in FAWN history, sometimes it might be a deep dive on one of our most vaunted names and sometimes, like today for instance, it’ll serve as a primer and introduction to one of our newest hires. And seeing as how that’s probably the best segue I can produce, if the camera would be so kind as to pan out a bit… yep, there we go.”
The widened angle revealed Allard’s guest as a woman in her mid-twenties, with dark hair and eyes, the former swept back in a messy bob that just tickled the nape of her neck. She wore faded fog-gray jeans and a oversized midnight blue hoodie emblazoned with the TCWW logo of Twin Cities Women’s Wrestling, a standout independent promotion based out of Minneapolis.
Pointing a hand in the direction of his guest, Kent said, “For those of you who follow the indy scene this woman needs no introduction, but for those of you who stick exclusively to FAWN, it is my distinct pleasure to introduce you to ‘The Sweet Disaster’, Bridget Stroud. Bridget, welcome to the Archive, welcome to Orlando and of course, welcome to FAWN.”
BRIDGET STROUD:
Bridget smiled, shook the archivist’s hand, then offered a wave to the camera. “Thank you for having me on the show, first episode no less! And thanks even more for showing me around earlier. I’ve only been in town for about a month now and this place is still kind of intimidating.”
“Intimidating? From what I hear you strolled in and crushed the best record on the climbing wall on your first day! Doesn’t sound like you were intimidated in the slightest.”
Stroud looked mildly embarrassed. “Well, that’s an exception. Rock climbing’s been a passion of mine for years, so a climbing wall might as well be a welcome mat. Definitely made for a great icebreaker when I first met Lily.”
Kent nodded, swung his attention back to the camera. “At this point some of you are probably going, ‘I know her. I’ve seen her on FAWN television before now, where have I seen her?’ Allow me to answer before you rush to your smart phones. Back in the summer of 2015, Lily Burlingame was in the middle of her Lightweight title reign when she made an appearance on Proving Ground, the show where insanely athletic types join forces to take on an equally insane… obstacle course seems like a gross understatement. What would you call it?”
Bridget grinned. “Fun.”
“And that’s why I keep records rather than make them.” Allard replied. “Point is, Lily appeared on Proving Ground during their annual Celebrity Tournament, wherein famous folks are paired up with athletes from all over the country to raise money for charities of their choice. The Star Strider was teamed with a rock climbing instructor from Minnesota and to say they ran away with the damned thing would be another gross understatement. At the time I recall words like ridiculous, astounding and unbeatable being thrown around with some frequency.” Turning his attention to Bridget again, Allard went on, “I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say the two of you stole the show, do you agree?”
No embarrassment from Stroud this time, she just beamed and nodded. “Yeah, the producers cut that last race to make it look closer than it was, but Lily and I were on a different level that year. We crushed that tournament.”
“And you’d never met Lily before Proving Ground, correct?”
“Yes. I knew who she was because my then boyfriend had a huge crush on Sue so I’d watch FAWN with him from time to time. I enjoyed it, but I wouldn’t go so far as to call myself a regular fan. Not then, at least.”
“So it’s safe to say that going into the Proving Ground tapings you didn’t have the least interest in stepping between the ropes?”
“Not in the slightest. The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind.”
Kent arched an eyebrow. “Yet here we are barely three years later and you’ve signed a contract with FAWN coming off a run that’s included stops in Twin Cities Women’s Wrestling, Appalachian Battle Cats, Polaris Pro Wrestling and most recently Pacific Coast Women’s Wrestling. That’s a stellar resume assembled in a remarkably short time. So what happened between ‘never crossed my mind’ to joining me here on the show?”
Stroud treated him to a knowing look. “As if you don’t know. She‘s your girlfriend after all”
Kent chuckled. “I’ve heard her tell it. I’d like to hear you tell it.”
“Fair enough. I was backstage with Lily after we’d won the finals. She’d brought a few other wrestlers with her to fill out the cheering section. Maddy and Ronnie were there, so was Sue, and of course Lenore…”
*****
The green room, so recently crowded with agents, executives, and Bridget’s family was empty save for the winning team and a handful of FAWN talents. Stretched out on a few couches arranged in a U around a low coffee table still laden with canapés and champagne, the women’s conversation continued much as it had earlier, though the mood was far more relaxed now that the suits had taken their leave.
“I gotta say,” Maddy noted around a mouthful of crab puff, “I thought the finals were going to be a helluva lot closer. I mean, you guys squared off with a national swimming champion and the chick from that wizard show ‘Ronnie doesn’t want anyone to know she watches.”
Pausing amidst a return trip to the cheese platter, the Dangerous Dame picked up a cube of gruyere and flicked it at the redhead only to join the others in a round of applause when Crane caught it in her mouth.
“As I was saying.” Maddy resumed a moment later. “Those chicks struck me as world class gym rats, but you and Lily made ‘em look like pikers.”
Stroud smiled but shrugged her shoulders as well, clearly uncomfortable with praise from people she’d only ever seen from the far side of a television screen. “Lily did the heavy lifting.” she noted. “Considering the lead she built on the elf girl, I could’ve loafed my way through the back end and still won with ten seconds to spare.”
“Bullshyt!” the younger Burlingame spoke up. “Elf or not, she was MAYBE a couple lengths behind me when you got the tag. They still had a good shot of winning the whole thing, but the swimmer just couldn’t hang after that first stretch. She was no match for you Bridget, pure and simple.”
“Or that crazy Spiderman shyt you were busting out at the--”
“Parkour, Maddy.” Sue interrupted. “It’s called Parkour.”
The Queen of the Facebusters remained unfazed. “Look, whatever you call it, it was goddamned cool. I mean if I could pull off some of that stuff in the ring folks would be losing their minds. And I’d probably have to deal with Domi for gimmick infringement, but hey, what the hell.”
“That’s an interesting idea.” Veronica chimed in. “Have you ever considered getting in the ring?”
Five sets of eyes shifted to Bridget, the sudden focus making her sit up in surprise. “Who, me? Wrestling? Like, in a ring?”
“That’s generally where it takes place, yes.” Lenore noted with a dry smile.
Bridget shook her head. “No, that’s just… wild. I mean, Nate, my boyfriend, I’m sure he’d think it was amazing but… don’t you guys train for years?”
“We do.” Veronica confirmed. “Truth is you never stop training, unless you like getting your ass handed to you in front of a crowd. But natural athleticism can make the basics a lot less intimidating than they would be for most people. And gauging from what I saw tonight, you’ve got that in spades.”
“Ok sure, but you guys strip down to a bikini or a leotard or whatever and go out there in front of thousands of people what, three or four times a week?”
Now it was Lily’s turn to shrug. “So? You just ran some madman’s obstacle course in a sports-bra and lycra short shorts and you did it for a national audience during prime time. It’s really not a stretch to think you could make a go of it in the ring. Personally I think you’d be a natural.”
“Agreed.” Maddy nodded. “If you wanted to give it a shot I could point you to half a dozen trainers before the night’s over.
“No one’s trying to pressure you.” Treymane said after she noted Bridget’s wide-eyed expression. “But like Maddy said, if you wanted to try… I think you’d take to it almost at once.” Veronica caught a look from Sue out of the corner of one eye so she turned in the Rainmaker’s direction. “You disagree, Ace?”
The elder Burlingame took a pull from her beer before answering. “Not exactly. Bridget here is a freak athlete and I mean that with the utmost respect. But she’s already realized something that I don’t think has occurred to the rest of you just yet. Namely, scaling a cliff, be it in a gym or an actual mountainside, is completely different than competing in a wrestling match. They require a lot of the same things, sure. Rigorous training, the proper equipment and probably half a dozen other things, but when you’re going up a cliff the competition is exclusively internal, unless you’re trying to beat someone else’s time. And even then it’s not like they’re climbing the wall at the same time actively trying to pull you off. With proper preparation, planning and enough endurance an experienced climber should conquer the climb sooner than later. In wrestling on the other hand, you can prepare and train until you’re at your absolute best and sometimes it’s just not enough to get the job done. Sometimes--”
“Sometimes you get your ass kicked.” Lenore broke in. “Sometimes the girl in the other corner is just better. It sucks, but it’s the truth.”
Lily, Maddy and Veronica offered an answering nod.
“That’s true.” the Crimson Comet admitted. “Everyone can have a bad night out there. Or maybe you have the misfortune of running into a girl that’s about to have the match of her life. It’s a risk you take every time you go through the curtain.”
“You have to want to win.” Ronnie added quietly. “If you don’t, you might as well stay in the back because you’re going to get embarrassed.”
“Or hurt.” Mads said.
“Or both in equal measure.” Susan finished for both of them. “The point is, anyone can train to be a wrestler, just like you can train to do anything else. But to make a living at it? To thrive at it? That requires a very special sort of competitive drive. And a certain fearlessness that’ll let you keep going when everything’s gone to shyt and there’s a whole arena full of people cheering for the chick currently kicking your ass.”
Silence held for a moment, then Lenore took a sip of her champagne and said, “What we do isn’t for everyone. Maybe you’re a natural in waiting, maybe you’re not. No shame in either option, but if the thought of a crowd makes you nervous, I’d put my money on the latter.”
“Hold on a sec.” Bridget raised one hand, palm out. “I didn’t say anything about being nervous. I’ve tackled some of the most difficult climbs in the country already and I hope to do three more in the next couple of years. If I can do that without freezing up I think I can handle some dudes whistling about my ass even if I am in trunks and a sports-bra.”
“Easy to say now.” Lemarchand replied. “It’s something else entirely once some mean-spirited brat with evil intentions has snatched a handful of your waistband so she can paddle your ass WHILE she shows it to the crowd.”
An odd little tingle ran down Bridget Stroud’s spine. During the next three years she’d come to know it quite well, but on that night it was more disconcerting than exhilarating. Leaning forward in her seat, she honed in on Lenore and asked, “You really don’t think I can hack it?”
The Raven refrained from leaning forward herself, though it took far more effort than she cared to admit. “To be determined. Possibly. If you’re asking for a snap assessment of raw potential I’d say you’re untested and leave it at that.”
Bridget drummed her fingers on the tabletop for several seconds. Eventually she looked at Maddy. “Help me move this thing, would you Maddy?”
“Why?” Crane drew the word out like someone who already knew the answer.
“Well how am I going to wrestle Lenore with this thing in the way? C’mon, help me move it over there. The rest of you can move these couches back some, we’ll need some room, right?”
Maddy shrugged got to her feet and grabbed the other side of the table. She and Bridget had made it less than five steps when Lily raised her voice. “Hold on, hold on a sec, Bridget. This really isn’t a good idea. You’ve been drinking!”
“Oh, one glass of cheap network champagne, I’m good to go, Lil’.”
“Are you kidding? You just ran an obstacle course that’d make most gym rats break out in hives!”
With the table moved well away from the ring of couches, Bridget turned around, hands on her hips. “Please. I barely broke a sweat, same as you. And you already said the swimmer was no match for me, right?”
Flustered, Lily looked to her older sister for support, but Sue offered nothing but a maddening little smile. “Well yeah, I suppose. But that doesn’t mean--”
Stroud grabbed the bottom edge of her oversized black ‘Proving Ground’ tee-shirt and peeled it off to reveal the purple & white shorts and sports-bra she’d worn for the obstacle. “I signed up for this show because I wanted a challenge.” Bridget spoke to Lily, but her eyes were locked on Lenore. “The swimmer couldn’t do it. The race couldn’t do it. Maybe Lenore can. If she’s ready to put her money where her mouth is.”
Now the Raven did lean forward, though she didn’t get up from her seat. “Is that a challenge, Bridget?”
Stroud threw the balled-up shirt at Lemarchand’s feet. “That’s a challenge, babe.”
Lenore nodded, slid out of her shoes, then stood up. She’d just reached for the top button on her jeans when she paused. “How do you want to do--”
“Pins ONLY!” Lily’s tone brooked no dissent. “Fifteen minute time limit, three count falls. NO hair-pulling. NO nails. No slapping. NO punching. NO catty crap whatsoever, understand? Just pure grappling, plain and simple. If we’re gonna do something this dumb we might as well do it right. Agree right now or I’ll shut everything down, got it?”
Bridget plucked a band from around one wrist and used it to pull her hair back in a short ponytail. “I got it, Lil’. Most pins in fifteen minutes makes me a winner.”
Lemarchand had stripped down to a tank-top and strappy black panties with a speed that suggested frequent practice. Once her jeans and blouse were neatly folded, she positioned herself in what best approximated a corner and drew her hair back in a similar (albeit much longer) fashion. “Fifteen minutes doesn’t seem like a long time, but I assure you it can feel like forever.” she said softly. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
Bridget nodded leaned forward and patted her thighs before bracing both hands against her knees. “Start the clock. Or ring the bell, whatever the hell it is you guys do.”
Lenore thanked her with a small smile and a beckoning finger. “Then by all means, show me what you’ve got, sweetie.”
********
Stroud paused to sip from a Slaughtered Lamb pint glass, which prompted Kent to ask, “And then?”
“She proceeded to pin my ass about eight times over the next fifteen minutes!” Bridget answered with a laugh.
“Way I heard it told, you managed to pin her twice during that same span. And a certain Crimson Comet noted the whole thing was a lot more competitive than that score might indicate.”
“I certainly wouldn’t call it close, but yeah, I got her down a time or two.” the brunette confirmed. “Not gonna lie, Kent. I hate losing. That’s why I work so hard to be the best at whatever goals I set for myself. But a funny thing happened when Lenore helped me off the mat afterward. I wasn’t demoralized and I wasn’t angry, I was excited! I wanted to try it again. I wanted to get better. Getting pinned was one of the most frustrating things I’d ever endured as an athlete. DOING the pinning on the other hand? That was exhilarating and I wanted to experience it again as fast as I could.”
“So it’s safe to say you took Maddy up on her offer?”
“And Veronica, and the Burlingame sisters, and Lenore too. Two weeks later I’d signed up for my first class at the TCWW gym in Minneapolis and the rest is history.”
“Thanks for leading us so nicely to my next topic.” Kent said with a smile. “Let’s fast forward about eight months. You debuted a few months prior, which, I should note is an almost unheard of turnaround time and speaks volumes to your ability to pick things up quickly. You’d worked several cards around Minnesota in those first few months, but by your own admission were still feeling like more of a special attraction than an actual member of the roster. Why was that?”
“I think it was more a marketing issue than anything else.” Bridget told him after a moment’s thought. “Remember, Proving Ground was still fresh on everybody’s minds even months later and Twin Cities never missed an opportunity to plaster ‘NATIONAL TV STAR!’ next to my name on the flyers. It was flattering in a way, but I didn’t want to be known as the girl who won a game show, I wanted to be the girl people were talking about when they left the arena that night.”
“Considering what happened next, I’d say this is a textbook example of being careful what you wish for.”
“Tell me about it.” Stroud rubbed the back of her head, apparently without thinking about it.
“What’s the fun in that? You were there, you tell me, and everyone else, about it!”
Bridget snickered softly. “All right. So I’d just finished off Angie Ivybridge with the Cliffhanger and was taking the opportunity to celebrate with the crowd. I’d just come off the second corner when I turned around and took my very first steel chair to the gut. Definitely not pleasant and it only got worse when she smashed it down on my back.”
“The ‘she’ in question is Nightshade, yes?”
“The ‘Notorious’ Nightshade,” Bridget corrected the Archivist, “don’t let her hear you forget the first part unless you want her coming after you full force. Anyway, I’m down on all fours after the chair shots so she locked me in the Deadly Nightshade and proceeded to scream at me until half a dozen referees came down the peel her off. The next night she stormed the ring after intermission to tell everyone who would listen that she wasn’t going to stand by and let some D-List celebrity get all the attention unless she was leaving in an ambulance.”
“And being the levelheaded rationalist that you are, I’m certain you chose to reply in a calm, reasonable fashion. Am I right?”
“Uhhhh no. I rushed the ring with my own chair and tried to bash her into a stupor. She hid behind security until I threw the chair down. Things deteriorated from there.”
Allard consulted his notes, though it was a mere formality done as a favor to the producer, he knew the details backward and forward. “You had three matches over the next two months or so. She won the first with the Belldonna Bomb following a rather nasty eye rake. You turned the tables in the second match by Reversing that same move into an Inside Cradle, but you didn’t get to enjoy it for very long because--”
“Because the nasty skank went ham with another chair after the match.” Bridget said sourly. “I was sick of the beatdowns and her attitude by that point, so I challenged her to a No Disqualifications Hardcore Match at the Spring Thaw card.”
“Here’s where we come to the show part of show & tell.” Kent told the camera. “I’ve got the finish to that match cued up. Check this out folks, I think you’ll dig it.”
********
NIGHTSHADE:
“So you think you’re tough, Hollywood? Think you’re strong enough to do what we do night in and night out?” Nightshade snarled as she peeled Bridget off the mat, thumped a Kneelift into her belly, then leaned over the rookie’s exposed back to secure a rough Gutwrench around Stroud’s hips. Hands locked, the Noxious Nymph glanced at a battered trashcan fallen on its side several feet away. “Well let’s see how tough you are when there’s no ropes to break your fall!”
With that ‘Shade muscled Stroud off the mat, spun her over in mid-ascent and sent her flying halfway across the squared circle with a Gutwrench Toss that KERR-UNCHED Bridget down atop the discarded hardware!
GUTWRENCH TOSS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=VAoYvun0fTc
“AWWWWW FAAAHHHHHHHHK!” she arched her back at once, the brunette writhing like she’d been touched with a live wire. “Savage bytch! You’ll pay for OOOOOFFFFHHH!”
Nightshade bounced off the ropes, took to the skies and THWHUMPED across her victim’s tummy with a low-flying Frog Splash that sent Stroud’s legs kicking into the lights. Delighted by the breathy crash-pad, the black-clad brunette hooked her prey’s far leg with one hand and braced her other forearm across Bridget’s jaw. The TCWW faithful were already urging ‘Sweet Disaster’ to dig deep when the ref swooped in to count…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOO!
Bridget twitched a shoulder off the mat with half a heartbeat between her and another punishing defeat. “Oh, you think that makes you some kind of a badass?” ‘Shade scoffed. She slapped Bridget’s mouth just because she could, grabbed a double handful of hair and hoisted her up once more. “Survive this without needing an ambulance, then MAYBE I’ll consider you something more than a publicity stunt!”
The ‘this’ in question remained a mystery while Nightshade slipped an arm between the newcomer’s thighs and hupped her into a gut-first perch across her right shoulder. It wasn’t until the Corrosive Cupid laid claim to Stroud’s biceps and lifted her into a face-first Crucifix that the crowd remembered the steel chair wedged between the top and middle turnbuckles of the corner directly behind Nightshade. Nodding ‘yes, yes, yes!’ to quash the pleas of the merciful, ‘Shade swung around in a half circle, sighted in on her target and took off at a dead run. Only vaguely aware of the doom rushing up to meet her, Stroud still understood that she didn’t want or need to be on her opponent’s shoulder for a second longer. To that end she kicked her legs like a madwoman and damned if she didn’t shimmy down Nightshade’s back with a few steps between herself and the corner. Slowed by the unexpected resistance, the Poisonous Pin-Up would’ve rounded on Stroud in an instant if the other brunette hadn’t put both hands on the small of her back and shoved with all her might! Shock was followed by delight from those assembled when ‘Shade flew forward and BAWAAANGED skull-first into the waiting steel!
The brunette’s legs gave way and she collapsed to one knee, but the ropes and muscle memory proved strong enough to help ‘Shade back to her feet within a second or two. Of course mere verticality wasn’t much of a defense, as Bridget noted when she stormed in and hooked her right arm across Nightshade’s chest so that hand was cupped under the woozy warrior’s left arm. Catching hold of her rival’s waistband with her other hand, Stroud wheeled around to face the center of the ring, then bellowed “GOING UP!” This earned a hearty roar from the crowd, as did the subsequent wedgie that reduced ‘Shade’s black briefs by a good three quarters en route to hoisting her skyward and PLANTING her on the deck when she laid out on her right side.
ROCKED BOTTOMS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=CmboQR00mwM
Rocked Bottoms got the fans on their feet clamoring for a cover and Bridget wanted to oblige them, yet her competitor’s instincts told her the other woman wasn’t quite finished yet, so she got to her feet and limped over to the chair that’d fallen out of the corner after ‘Shade rammed it with her noggin. Hefting it two-handed, she walked back to Nightshade and raised it overhead before letting it drop to one side. “I’ve fallen before, baby. And I’ll fall again, probably sooner than I’d like. But I always get up. Can you say the same?”
‘Shade only groaned, even after Stroud set the chair beside her so she could indulge in a handful of hair. Drawing the other brunette up in stages, Bridget spiked a quick Toe Kick into her navel just so she could secure the Standing Headscissors. Then she lifted / flipped Nightshade onto her right shoulder, ‘Shade cursing her way back to reality as her spine bent around the posted joint. Stroud paid this no mind, she only moved her hands to opposing biceps and muscled her that much higher courtesy of a traditional Crucifix. Already loud, the TCWW threatened to blow the roof off when Bridget looped her right arm across ‘Shade’s chest and swung her down into a freefalling Front Facelock and sat out on her tush to BUHWHANG her foe’s forehead into the chair with ring-rattling force!
CLIFFHANGER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=SwHsM-g5gCM
Blown onto her back in an unconscious starfish by that devastating Cliffhanger, Nightshade didn’t even mutter when Bridget collected both legs in a bundle and folded her in half for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
Sweet Disaster sprang to her feet with the clang of the bell, Bridget pumping an elbow in time with her victory roar. “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner of the match… BRIDGET STROUD!”
********
Cut back to the FAWN Archive where Kent nods his approval of what he’s just seen. “An emphatic way to win your first program, Bridget. And it seems you took to the hardcore / no disqualification stipulation quicker than Nightshade would’ve expected or enjoyed.”
Stroud answered with a modest smile and a hand raked through her hair. “I don’t think it’d surprise anyone to hear me say I am… aggressively competitive, sometimes to my own detriment. I can say with all honesty that I didn’t go into that match with the intention of planting ‘Shade’s face in a chair, but she pushed the wrong button and she paid the price.”
“I’d ask if she’d learned her lesson, but I know the two of you had a Ladder Match about three months after this match and your rivalry continued pretty much through the end of your independent bookings.”
“Yes, she was one of the very last matches I wrestled before I came down to Orlando. Not the VERY last, that was--”
Kent raised a hand to cut her off. “We’ll get to your archrival soon enough, before we do, let’s flash forward about a year. TCWW is still your home promotion, but you’ve started to branch out down south, including an impressive run with Appalachian Battle Cats, a women’s promotion based out of Southern Virginia. Would you be so kind as to fill our viewers in on how you came to land a spot on their roster?”
Bridget’s eyes lit up, her expression that of someone recalling a very fond memory. “Certainly! Every year in December, ABC runs their ‘Christmas Carousing’ card which is highlighted by an invitational Battle Royale for their best talents as well as other indy women from all over the county. TCWW got to fill three slots so they sent ‘Shade, myself and she who shall be named later. It’s a thirty woman affair, over the top eliminations with the winner getting a shot at their champion. Of course the catch is that the champion is ALSO in the match and if she wins she gets to handpick her next three title defenses AND collect a check for ten thousand dollars.”
“A strong incentive to say the least.” Allard confirmed. “And the final four was pretty remarkable. It was yourself, Carrie Cavendish, Sadia Morales and the ABC champion, Clara Boone.”
“The Honky Tonk Angel herself.” Bridget mused.
“Now you managed to low bridge Carrie over the top rope and shortly thereafter Clara sent Sadia into the third or fourth row with a Military Press and now you’re alone in the squared circle with one of the most popular Destroyers of the last five years. She’s got every reason to wanna hurl you over the top rope as fast as possible.”
“Yeah she did! And she didn’t settle for a plain old toss, chick tried to Powerbomb me from the ring to the floor!”
“But one well timed Frankensteiner later and…”
Bridget popped both thumbs and pointed to herself. “I’d won my first Battle Royale! AND earned my first World Championship opportunity.”
“Which came at ABC’s ‘Screw Your Resolutions!’ card at the end of January. You and Clara headlined a stacked card in front of a hot crowd. Not only that, you managed to split an audience that started the night in Clara’s hip pocket. I’ve got the finish of that match ready to go, mind if we show them how it went down?”
Bridget rolled her shoulders like she was hyping herself up. “Yeah. I’ve been meaning to watch this again. So let’s watch it together.”
“You heard the lady.” Kent said. “Roll it!”
********
CLARA BOONE:
Hands locked against the small of her opponent’s back, Clara Boone flipped hair out of her eyes then shook the Bear Hug back n’ forth to earn around round of pained groaning from the challenger. “Hung in there a good long while, Bridg’.” she said to the visiting brunette. “Hung in there a helluva lot longer than most of these people expected.” Boone suddenly jolted in place, causing the Scissors looped around her hips to bounce and slide. Stroud moaned, hunched forward over the taller woman’s right shoulder and pounded a couple desperate elbows into her upper back. Clara grimaced, made the smaller wrestler pay with another hard shake. “It’s closing time, honey.” the Honky Tonk Angel explained. “And even though you flirted as hard as you could, that big gold belt is still coming home with me tonNGH!”
Stroud gouged her elbow into the side of Boone’s skull, then cinched that arm around her noggin to secure a Front Facelock. Crossing her ankles to put more squeeze back in the Scissors, Bridget leaned back as far as she could in a desperate effort to bring the champ to the mat. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that, babe.” she huffed. “The gold’s been looking at me ever since you strutted out here and I think he’d look great snapped around my waiHEY WHOOOAAAHH!”
Clara halved the Hug to secure a Facelock of her own. Once Bridget’s head was secured she relinquished the rest of the Hug to grab hold of Stroud’s waistband. An impressed ‘oooooohhhhh!’ from the sold out crowd when Boone dropped, then popped her hips to prize those Scissors apart and swing Bridget to high noon for a Vertical Supl--
“NNNNGGGGHHHH!”
Stroud pounded her knee into the top of Clara’s head with enough force to put a waver in those sturdy stems. Another two knees to the noggin had Boone wobbling in place but the local fans were confident their heroine could power through for-- Bridget kicked her legs down and in, swinging back the way she’d came to end up on her back while Clara was THAWHONKED skull-first into the mat with a championship-threatening DDT!
Boone rolled through to a seat, might’ve stayed there if Stroud hadn’t rushed over and stretched her out flat on the deck. Throwing herself atop the bigger brunette as roughly as she could, Stroud collected both legs in a bundle and folded Clara in half, pointing her butt toward the lights while the ref counted…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOO!
Clara bucked loose with a whisper to spare, the curvaceous brunette forcing herself to all fours in a tenacious defense against future encroachment. As for Bridget, she pounded a fist against the canvas, looked around the ring and honed in on the turnbuckle directly behind her penitent adversary. On her feet in a trice, she hurried to the corner and sprang to the high rent district, the nimble rookie twisting in mid-ascent so she landed in a crouch facing the Honky Tonk Angel. “C’MON!” Stroud shouted over the din in an effort to rally her burgeoning fan base. This proved a good idea because the crowd responded in kind, the once partisan throng now almost a perfect split between the homegrown champion and her visiting challenger.
Straightening up when Boone did the same, Bridget leapt the instant her opponent turned around, the Sweet Disaster getting a whole lotta air off the Diving Crossbody that THWHUMPED across Clara’s chest and sent both wrestlers tumbling to the mat for--NOOOO! An even louder roar from the ABC loyalists when Clara rolled through the landing, powered to one knee and then clambered to boot-leather with Bridget still strapped across her chest. Offering the crowd a hard-working grin, Boone dipped her knees, then flipped Stroud up ‘n over, the smaller lass coming to rest bent over her opponent’s shoulders in an agonizing Torture Rack!
“AAAAAAAHHHH SHHHIIIITTT!” Bridget wailed in agony as the powerhouse cranked down on her chin and thigh.
Clara jounced in place for perhaps five seconds before she asked, “Ready to call it a night, honey? You sound wore out.”
“NO!” Bridget waggled a finger frantically to make sure the official knew she was still in this thing. “NO, I’M NOT! YOU WON’T GRRRRRHHHHNNNNNGGHHH!”
Boone reefed down on the Torture Rack, then brought the fans to their feet with a swaggering bit of dance hall do-si-do that turned her to all four sides of the armory just before she hopped up and came down on her knees! Caught deep on the Wrong Side of Memphis, Bridget bounced from her foe’s clutches and rolled down her back to land facedown just behind ABC’s alpha female.
WRONG SIDE OF MEMPHIS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=s3A5TlzqcPo
Clara was as eager for a pin as the rest of her fans, yet the brunette wasn’t entirely convinced of her ability to obtain this treasure just yet which was why she buried her hands in Stroud’s hair and peeled her off the mat. Unable to rest easy until victory was assured, Boone hooked her left arm over Bridget’s shoulder and threaded her right arm between the smaller wrestler’s thighs. Helping herself to a firm handful of backside, Clara muscled Stroud up across her chest a second time and took a little saunter around the ring as she decided her next move. It was all a show of course, the champ knew exactly what she was gonna do and so did the crowd. That’s why their cheers continued to grow in volume until Boone abruptly planted on her right foot and swung hard in that direction, the Honky Tonk Angel laying out flat to THAWHAM Bridget against the thinly-sheathed plywood!
NEON RAINBOW:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=9UqrHABskhk
Crushed flat by the glittering power of Boone’s ‘Neon Rainbow’, Stroud only moaned fitfully when Clara trapped the far leg in a snug cradle and nodded along for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
Victorious once more, Clara released her hooks and put both hands on Bridget’s gulping tummy, a subtle but unmistakable show of dominance that made the Announcer’s proclamation essentially redundant. “Ladies and gentlemen your winner via pin-fall and STILL the ABC World Champion… CLARA BOONE!”
********
“Always tough coming up short in a title match, especially your very first try.” Kent sympathized when the feed cut back to the Archive. “But an impressive showing nonetheless and if folks watch the full match, link provided right…. here,” he pointed to a spot in the lefthand corner where a URL did in fact appear, “they’ll see that you scored several more near falls earlier in the match and got a ‘please come back’ chant from the crowd after the match was over.”
“Yeah, it stung to end my first Main Event as a loser, but the fans definitely warmed up to me during that match, so much so that I was booked there probably a dozen more times over the next year and a half. Never did manage to take the belt off Clara, that woman is so STRONG, but I used the disappointment as motivation to keep working my way up the TCWW ranks.”
“You’d almost reached the top of the proverbial mountain.” Kent agreed. “Of course at that time the top of said mountain was ruled by a woman who’s arrogance is second only to her mat-wrestling wizardry. Her name, for the uninitiated is--”
“’Superlative’ Sutton Stonecliffe.” Bridget said the name like it tasted awful in her mouth. “She was the first woman I genuinely came to hate. I’m sorry if that sounds awful, but it’s the truth. I hated her guts almost as much as she hated mine.”
Kent shifted in his seat, looking simultaneously interested and embarrassed when he asked, “What was the source of the animosity between you?”
“Same reason Sutton hates everyone.” Bridget shrugged. “No one’s on her level. No one’s good enough to share her ring. Far as she’s concerned, everyone else is trash to be swept into the gutter. She called me human garbage in a taped promo one week, so I called out her at the end of the show and dared her to say it to my face. She did, so I punched her right in the mouth. She proceeded to slap me so hard the whole left side of my face went numb. Things only got worse until the refs pulled us apart a few minutes later.”
“As a result of this altercation TCWW brass gave you a Championship match two weeks later at a show in St. Paul. It was ranked as one of Gladiatrix’s ten best matches of 2017 and I have to agree. Pitting Sutton’s technical expertise and viciousness against your power and inventiveness made for immediate fireworks. In truth the only real knock against that match came after the match when Stonecliffe…” Allard trailed off in search of the proper word.
“She humiliated me.” Stroud set flatly. “There’s no other word for it, Kent. She made me submit to the Superlative Sleeper and when I wouldn’t beg for mercy she stripped off my top and choked me out.”
Bridget swallowed a lump in her throat. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t show that clip.”
“No worries, I’ve got something more suitable waiting in the wings. Now, you achieved a measure of success the following month when you teamed with Abbey Roades against Sutton and Thea Ashton in a Tornado Tag. Not only did you win, you did so by pinning the champion after a Cliffhanger delivered on the apron. In so doing you left the Superlative One bloodied, which in turn caused her to--”
“Lose her shyt.” Bridget smiled for the first time since Stonecliffe’s name was mentioned. “That spoiled brat trashed the whole locker room, I heard it cost her a five thousand dollar fine. Drop in the bucket for a rich bytch like her, but it was extremely satisfying to watch her have to deliver it to the commissioner in the middle of the ring. It was even more satisfying when he told her I was getting a rematch the next month at Snow Brawl. Stony immediately invoked champion’s privilege to make it a Pure Rules match, not that I gave a damn. We were both out for revenge, no, we were out for blood. In the end we both got a little more than we’d bargained for.”
“And on THAT ominous note, let’s take a look at the last few minutes to that match.” Kent said cheerily.
********
“BREAK!” Bridget almost sobbed as she finally draped her left ankle over the bottom rope. “Break it, you bytch!”
Currently snuggled in high and tight against the brunette’s right side (the back of Stroud’s head was braced against her right shoulder) Sutton Stonecliffe tightened her S-grip and craaaaaaaaanked back on the modified Butterfly Lock that’d done so much damage to Sweet Disaster’s shoulders, neck and back over the last minute or so. “Not just yet you tacky slut.” the TCWW champion sneered. “I want to hear, aaaaahhh, there it is!”
SUTTON STONECLIFFE:
Close by, the Announcer said, “Ladies and gentlemen, Bridget Stroud has used her last rope break! She can no longer rely on the ropes to break pins or submissions!”
The Superlative One broke the hold with a flourish, bounced to her feet and took a moment to wipe check the cut her forehead before turning her attention to the jeering fans. “Oh, don’t sound so surprised!” she barked. “That no class piece of crap was never going to win this! In fact, I’ll show you idiots how it was always destined to end!”
Hurrying back to the wounded challenger (she’d bloodied Bridget’s nose less than three minutes after the opening bell) Stonecliffe grabbed hold of Stroud’s ankles and draaaaaaaaaaagged her into the middle of the ring. “NO!” Bridget protested the injustice even as Sutton slung her left leg across her right thigh, the beginning of a trap she knew far too well.
“Yes, yes, yes, my little garbage fire!” Stonecliffe teased as she stepped over the brunette’s left shin in something that looked like the love-child of a Figure Four and a Sharpshooter. “You’re going to scream my name or I’ll make sure you never show your face near a ring again!”
With that she rolled Bridget onto her belly and hunched forward so that her prey’s ankles were wedged firmly against her shin and thigh. Loathing the defenseless panic that washed over her, Bridget threw both arms over the back of her head as soon as she felt Sutton reach for her chin. This sort of turtling wouldn’t work for long against a patient sadist like the champion, but maybe she could “EEERRRRHHHHHHHH!”
Sutton plunged a hand into Stroud’s hair and wrenched her head backward, an infraction immediately noted by the official. “Hey, let go of her hair, Sutton! Do you want to lose your last rope break?”
Stonecliffe snorted in disdain. “Have you seen where I’ve got this little worm? She’s wriggling on my hook! I could give a damn about one more rope break!” The black-clad battler shook the hair-pull back n’ forth to emphasize the point.
“I mean it, Sutton! Let go of her hair or I’ll--”
Stonecliffe transitioned to a half Chinlock that would’ve been perfectly within the rules if she hadn’t balled her free hand into a fist and PWAAAKED it down atop Bridget’s nose! Pain exploded behind her eyes and quickly spread to her neck and shoulders as Sutton completed the Chinlock and reeeeeeeeeeeeefed back on the Superlative Sleeper.
SUPERLATIVE SLEEPER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Ws0zKjxTH0
Dimly she heard the Announcer say something about the evil witch using her last rope break, not that it registered as anything like useful information. Planting her hands on the deck, Bridget pushed up and worked her head from side to side. This alleviated a bit of the torque on her neck, but the challenger’s chin remained firmly in her nemesis’s possession.
“You are an inferior class of wrestler.” Sutton snapped at the struggling brunette. “A disposable class of woman. You have no business in my ring, just admit it before I break your neck!” She CRANKED up on the Chinlock, causing Bridget to wail in agony as one hand shot off the mat to prize and pull at those clutching hands. “No escape, cretin! Yes, that’s it! Reach for the ropes, they won’t do you any--” Stonecliffe fell into a furious silence when Stroud’s flailing smoothed out into a middle finger raised defiantly in her direction. “A predicatively vulgar response from a predicatively vulgar bytch.” she huffed. “I believe I’ll take your bottoms so I’ll have a complete set in my trophy casEEERRRRRHHHH REF! SHE’S BITING!”
The official only shrugged. “Shouldn’t have wasted that last break, I guess.”
Infuriated by the incompetent help, Sutton curled her other hand into a claw and slashed it across Bridget’s eyes. It took three tries, but she finally freed her fingers from the brunette’s maw. Forgetting all about the Superlative Sleeper, she dragged Stroud to her feet, THUMPED a Kneelift between her thighs, then reared back and turned her head to one side with a savage Bytch Slap. “Any last words before I dismiss you from my presence, worm?”
“Yuuuhhhh…. yes.” Bridget slurred. “What kind of soft bytch doesn’t know how to throw a proper slap?”
“You insolent slut.” Stonecliffe hissed. “Enjoy sipping your dollar menu dinner through a straw!”
She reared back and put all her strength into a jaw-cracking Bytch Slap that… sailed harmlessly over Bridget’s head. Ducking low just in time to slip beneath the strike, Stroud swung behind the blonde and threaded her left leg over Sutton’s left thigh. In the same breath she leaned across Stonecliffe’s back, hooked her left arm beneath Sutton’s right bicep and jerked back to complete the Abdominal Stretch!
Eyes wide with surprise and yes, fear, Stonecliffe twisted and squirmed, desperately fighting to get away before “UUUUUNNNGGHHHHHH!” Bridget curled her right hand into a claw and ‘SMECKED’ it down just above the champion’s right hip. “GIVE UP!” Stroud demanded as she tried to claw a hole through the blonde. “YOU’RE DONE, SUTTON! I WANT TO HEAR YOU SAY IT!”
Wrenched awkwardly over the post of her opponent’s thigh, Stonecliffe reached for the brunette’s wrist only to freeze halfway there because Bridget dug in that much deeper. Regaining control of herself after an unpleasant tremor, Sutton shook off the ref’s warning, then raised her questing hand toward Bridget’s face. Stroud saw it coming, turned her head to the side. “Don’t even think about it, girl.” she threatened. “Go for my eyes and you’re not going to RRRRRHHHHH!”
“Don’t you dare order me around!” Sutton couldn’t get at the challenger’s eyes, so she snatched a handful of hair and wrenched her head to the side. “I am not just your superior, I am the goddamned SuperlatiVAAAAAARRRRRHHHHHH YOU CHEAP BYTCH!”
Bridget made Stonecliffe pay for that arrogance by moving her Iron Claw between the blonde’s thighs. Stroud ignored the insult and kept tensing her fingers like Sutton’s crotch was a bit of cliffside that might break off at any moment. “You don’t get to talk about cheap.” Sweet Disaster grunted. “Not after what you’ve done to me.”
Shaking her head ‘no, no, no!’ as the anguish down below began to spread, Stonecliffe released the hair-hold so she could clamp down on her opponent’s encroaching wrist. “What I DID? You bytch, my putting those sub-par tits on display made you more relevant than you’ve ever AAAAAAAWWWWWWW!”
Bridget squeezed harder than ever and coupled it with several seconds of rough bouncing that made the Superlative One squirm and squeal. “Oh, you did me a favor huh? So you’d be ok if I went under your trunks? Imagine the YouTube hits!”
“Do it.” the blonde rasped. “And I’ll make sure you live just long enough to regretMMMMRRRPPPPPPHHHHHHHHHHH!”
Stroud abandoned her grip on Sutton’s crotch, but the reprieve proved fleeting as she promptly pressed that curled hand into the champion’s incredulous face! “You can do whatever the hell you want!” Bridget agreed as she gouged her fingertips into the other woman’s temples and hairline. “But not until you’ve tapped out!”
Sutton grabbed Bridget’s wrist and pulled with all her might, alas she only succeeded in mashing the challenger’s palm against her nose. Keening in a high, nasal whine she hated, Stonecliffe reeeeeeeeeached for the ropes in a meaningless gesture, scraped at Stroud’s straining forearm, then reached for the ropes until her arm dropped limp at her side.
“I said give, damn you!” Bridget growled. “Don’t think I’m going to let go just because you passed--” she felt a scrabbling at her boot and looked down to see Sutton tapping with what little she had left.
“Guuuuhhhh.. get off…” she whispered into Stroud’s palm. “I submit. Just let go already.”
Bridget looked up at once, desperately searching for the ref, however he’d already turned toward the Timekeeper. The bell CLANGED and Stroud’s legs went along with it, Bridget collapsing atop the wreckage of Sutton Stonecliffe. But whereas the Superlative One stayed facedown with nary a whimper, Sweet Disaster bounded to verticality heartbeats after the Announcer shouted, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via submission and the NEEEEEEEW TCWW Champion… BRIDGET STROUD!”
Doing her best to hold back tears when the ref handed her the belt, Bridget raised it one handed and slapped it in time with a three word demand she’d taken as a mantra. “NEVER! STOP! CLIMBING!”
********
“I would have to imagine,” Allard said when the clip ended, “that felt pretty damned vindicating.”
Bridget nodded emphatically before the question was even out of his mouth. “You have no idea, Kent. I can say with all honesty that winning the TCWW Championship from Stony is the most satisfying moment of my career thus far. Sutton never missed an opportunity to tell the fans that I didn’t belong, that I couldn’t make it to the main event, but not only did I make it, I took the fight to her with everything I had. And when we were both exhausted, battered and bleeding, Sutton quit and I kept going. I made it to the top of TCWW and got to hold that title high as a result. The last few years have been insane, to put it mildly, but now that I’ve been in the ring I can’t imagine doing anything else with my life.”
ent smiled wide, clearly pleased by her enthusiasm. “Well I think I can speak for all of your fans, as well as a few friends in the back, when I say I’m thrilled to see you here in Orlando. Any last words for the FAWNatics before we put a bow on this thing?”
troud mulled for a moment, then turned to the camera. “The only way to truly master a mountain is to start at the bottom and work your way up. That’s how I climbed all the others, that’s how I’ll climb FAWN. I don’t expect it to be easy, and I’ll probably fall along the way, but I’ll never stop climbing. My name is Bridget Stroud… and I’ll see you at the top.”