Post by hawkeye on Aug 15, 2019 1:45:36 GMT
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the ring announcer declares, “your following contest is scheduled for…”
The man in the tuxedo lets his voice trail off. However, having been fooled once just one month ago, the FAWNatics don’t rise to the bait, resulting in an ever so slightly awkward moment of silence, punctuated by the occasional chuckle from the crowd.
The announcer can’t help but grin before resuming with, “… one fall!”
“THREE FALLS!” one front row fan shouts, causing the bemused announcer to shake his head.
“You’ll have to ask the girls about that,” he says. “Introducing first, hailing from Manchester, England in the United Kingdom. She stands five feet four inches tall and weighs in this evening at one hundred and twenty pounds. She is the icon… the living legend… the Sensational One herself… SHHHEEEAAA LOOONNNDDDOOONNN!!!!!”
The arena PA system came to life, a voice posing a single question to tonight’s pumped up crowd:
“Do you wanna get rocked?”
Judging by the deafening roar from the FAWNatics, this is precisely their greatest wish.
SHEA LONDON:
”LET’S GET ROCKED”:
Def Leppard - Let's Get Rocked [HQ]
As Def Leppard’s “Let’s Get Rocked” pumps over the arena’s speakers, the curtains part, and “Sensational” Shea London emerges onto the ramp. While it is said that familiarity breeds contempt, there is nothing but love in the FAWNatics’ response to the returning legend. Just as in her previous appearances since her return, the gorgeous blonde sports a pleasingly “Old School” look: visible underneath an open, traditional, red ring jacket is a one piece proudly emblazoned in the Union Jack, the red stripes of the cross running from the scooped neckline to between her legs and underneath her bosom, respectively, her eyes shielded behind a pair of stylish shades. Red knee and elbow pads along with blue boots complete her ensemble.
The blonde Briton darts down to the ring, her million megawatt smile on full display as she slaps hands with a FAWN fandom populous that still doesn’t seem quite fully ready to believe that this woman might once again be a part of the full time roster. But, back the British beauty truly is, and with a couple of wins under her belt to prove it.
Of course, now some amongst the FAWNatics have had the opportunity to prepare signs to greet Sensational One’s appearance. A particular one catches London’s eyes at ringside: a sheet of posterboard which simply reads “SENSATIONAL > GOLDEN”, with pictures of Shea and Samantha Sinclair underneath their respective superlative.
It would seem that someone has an issue with a recent Gladiatrix cover.
However, that sentiment apparently isn’t shared by Shea herself. “Now now,” the FAWN icon and legend admonishes that spectator. “No need ta try an’ pit me an’ Sammie against each other!”
“It wouldn’t be a contest!” the fan answers back, unrepentant. “You’d wipe the mat with her!”
“Well, yeah,” London responds, her grin indicating exactly where the Brit’s tongue is positioned in relation to her cheek. “But I ‘aven’t got either tha reason or tha desire ta. I like tha lass. She likes me. An’ y’know, even with you ‘oldin’ up tha’ sign, she prolly likes ya, too.”
Having made her sentiments known, London now heads to the ring. Climbing the steps, Shea slips between the ropes and steps toward her corner. Mounting the middle rope, London slips her ring jacket down her shoulders, Shea’s grin growing broader as the crowd enjoys the tease...
Once Shea’s feet return to the canvas, the announcer steps back toward center ring, ready to introduce the Sensational One’s opponent.
The crowd doesn’t seem to care who London’s about to face so excited are they FAWN’s once and perhaps future face is back amongst the people who adore her.
They are shaken out of their Lovefest when “Wildflower” by JaneDear Girls reverberates through the bowl.
”WILDFLOWER”:
The JaneDear Girls - Wildflower (Video)
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=NC0IhlquYlI )
BETH JENKINS:
Quickly behind the accompaniment, the organization’s infamous Arizonan appears and the cowgirl’s greeting is far less welcoming than the icon from Manchester. The freckled redhead is clad in her trademark attire, flag of the Grand Canyon State patterned on her vest—small enough to leave a sliver of midsection bare—blue thong bottoms and tan leather chaps. Her feet are adorned in a pair of battered old cowboy boots, spurs clicking against the floor as she saunters down the aisle. A coiled lasso is attached to her hip, and sitting atop her head is a black cowboy hat with a curved brim.
Noticeably present is the grappler’s infamous mock ‘branding iron’, the ‘Wild West’-inspired ink gun she’d used to ‘assign’ several wrestlers to her ‘BJ’ ranch, most notably Portia VanBuren not long after the cowgirl’s entry into the organization. The last several years hadn’t been kind to Bareback’s FAWN career as she’d fallen into obscurity. And the decision of her most torrid rivals, the Bloodwinds, to take their talents elsewhere certainly didn’t seem to trend their fellow Arizonan in the right direction. But tonight Jenkins is in the right spot at the right time.
Ignoring the jeers and catcalls from the crowd, the Pale Rider strides directly and determinedly toward the squared circle. The redhead looks as though she’s headed down Main Street of old Tombstone at high noon, keeping out of the reach of those extending for a handshake or high-five as if the rabble are not worthy of her time.
As she reaches the ring, the PA makes the cowgirl’s long-awaited arrival back to Pay-Per-View action an official one.
“And her opponent…hailing from Tombstone, Arizona, standing five feet six inches tall and weighing in at one hundred and twenty pounds… ‘BAREBACK’ BEEETTTHHH JEEENNNKKKIIINNNSSS!!!!!”
The redhead continues past the steps and to the announcer’s table. Beth turns in her spurs, lasso and ten-gallon for a microphone. Jenkins raises the stick to her rosy lips as she walks back to the steps, strides up, and slips through the ropes, staring holes through the Sensational One.
“Well lookie, ‘ere,” Beth says, walking up and down the length of the ring, twirling the ‘iron’ in her opposite fingers.
“Someone who was actually gone, doesn’t have half my talent nor have half what she used to have gets another PPV spot. Limey. Christian must have it out for you tonight. Either that or she’s a dumb bytch who thinks she can use me to build you up. Because when she sees me make Shea London the first of a brand new ‘BJ’ herd, she’s not going to know whether to spit or swalluh.”
The crowd boos lustily as Bareback raises the ‘branding iron’ high then plants it into the canvas to leave her mark, black ink injected into the mat before the freckled cowgirl pulls the ‘iron’ off and places it carefully in her corner.
She hands over the microphone to a FAWN flunky and moves toward the middle, ready to grab this chance like a bull by the horns. The ginger cowgirl drops into an expectant crouch, waiting for the bell to ring.
The bell sounds, and the Sensational One wastes no time in joining Jenkins mid-ring, nor does she hesitate for even a second in throwing herself into the collar and elbow. And then things slow down, just a bit, and not particularly surprisingly. After all, apart from a couple of inches in height in the American’s favor, there’s a fair amount of similarity in these two women’s build…
… but it would seem that those couple of extra inches do have something to them, as after the initial stalemate, ‘Bareback’ Beth begins to walk her adversary backward. Shea doesn’t retreat willingly or readily, but before long, the British blonde finds her back pressed against the rubber coated steel of the ropes. “Alright, break!” the referee commands.
Beth will have none of, leeeeaning all of her weight into the collar and elbow, keeping London pinned between herself and the cables. “Gonna be a loooooong night for you, honeybun,” the redhead hisses. “I’m not just gonna put you away wet. You’re getting’ put away drenched!”
When it becomes apparent that the Pale Rider intends to take advantage of every second afforded to her by the rules, the official obliges her by beginning his count.
“ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
FOUR!!!!”
Beth pulls her hands back… but only momentarily, her open palms striking against London’s sternum with a loud ‘SMECK!’
Her features clouding into a snarl, the Sensational One surges off the ropes, and Jenkins braces herself for another tie up… only when Beth’s arm rise up, Shea’s upper body dips down, the cowgirl transformed into an unwilling matador as London slips by her, much to the FAWNatics’ delight. Righting her balance quickly, the Pal Rider spins around, only to find the British beauty already waiting for.
And Shea’s open hand greets Jenkins’ cheek, London’s palm meeting alabaster skin with a loud ‘THWAAAK!’
The cowgirl’s head swivels from the impact, crimson locks fanning into the air as Beth is sent turning away from her opponent. The slap might have made them even, but Shea apparently isn’t satisfied with that, for she follows up by sending a boot ‘THWAAP!’ing off Bareback’s OTHER set of (bared) cheeks, which meets with even more raucous approval from tonight’s capacity crowd.
Jenkins turns back toward the Brit with a yelp, both hands moving to massage her backside.
“Consider tha’ MY brand, darlin’,” the Sensational One says with a grin, in her most convincing approximation of a wild west drawl—which is to say, not very convincing at all, not that the fans begrudge her for the effort.
“Oh, you’re just BEGGING for an ass-kicking now, sugar,” Beth mutters, London responding with a shrug as she sinks into a tensed crouch of her own. And again, the blonde and the redhead lock up center ring. Alas, the second verse proves much similar to the first, the Pale Rider gradually beginning to force the Sensational One into a backpedal. The only significant difference is that, this time, Shea finds herself halted not by the ropes but by a set of turnbuckle, once she is driven back into the near corner.
“Come on, Beth,” the ref chides her. “I want a clean break this time.”
And, to just about everyone’s surprise, it initially looks as if he’s going to get it. Almost immediately, the cowgirl pulls back her hands—but, just as swiftly, her knee rises up, PLOWING into Shea’s vulnerable midsection. London’s cheeks puff as she lets out a gasp of air, and a second kneelift threatens to cross the Sensational One’s eyes as she doubles forward.
“HOPE Y’ALL ENJOYED THAT LAUGH,” Beth shouts over Shea’s slumped shoulder at the crowd. “CAUSE I’M ABOUT TO SHOW Y’ALL THAT IT’S THIS BYTCH AND HER COMEBACK THAT’S THE JOKE!”
Setting her feet, Jenkins takes her foe by the wrist and sends her racing across the ring. Sprinting across the canvas, London manages to turn her back at the last possible second, and when her spine slams into the opposite corner’s set of turnbuckles, the Sensational One’s noggin whips forward, her arms spilling across the top rope as a shimmy runs through her shapely legs. The Pale Rider apparently likes what she sees, and takes off in a sprint of her own toward her slumping opponent. As she knees, Jenkins raises her right arm, intending to smash a running clothesline into London’s clavicle…
Instead, Beth charged into a raised boot from the FAWN Original, that catches her flush under the chin. As if struck by a bullet from a six shooter, the redhead wheels around, staggering drunkenly away as one hand rises to inspect whether or not her jaw is still in one piece. Meanwhile, as soon as London gets both her boots back underneath her, the blonde charges out of the corner, coming up alongside Jenkins off her left flank. Leaping into the air, the British beauty reaches out a hand, one hand grabbing the back of Beth’s head as Shea kicks her legs out in front of her, the living legend SLAMMING her foe’s mug into the mat with a running bulldog.
The Pale Rider flops over onto her back, arms and legs absently splayed. And Shea promptly tosses herself across Beth’s chest, gathering up and hooking the outside leg.
ONE…
TWO…
NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Jenkins kicks out.
Beth quickly works her way up to a seated position, the redhead’s eyes locking on London’s as the British blonde rests on one knee. “’Ow’s tha’ ol’ sayin’ go?” Shea asks. “All ‘at an’ no cattle?”
Jenkins snarls at the unbridled arrogance of Manchester’s own and swings an open hand toward Shea’s cheek to slap the taste from London’s lips. But the Sensational One is ready, latching onto Bareback’s wrist before she can lay a palm to the Brit’s face. Rising, she draws Beth up with her and when each is on their feet, Shea buggywhips the cowgirl’s arm without letting go, wrenching both elbow and shoulder in turn.
“FOCK!” the freckled fighter yelps. Her mood doesn’t get any better when London twists the limb in her possession then deftly maneuvers behind the redhead to create a chickenwing, bringing Beth to tiptoes as she lifts Jenkins’ folded limb higher.
Jenkins swings her opposite elbow blindly behind her, hoping to crack the point into London’s temple but the veteran ducks under the effort and converts the momentum. Shea scoops the off-balance Beth from the deck and deposits her with a simple but oh so effective side suplex, London making sure Jenkins’ full body weight lands on her folded arm.
The lids over Beth’s gray-green eyes clench as she rises to a seated position, cradling her injured wing close and cursing under her breath.
“You are soAHHH.”
Beth’s rejoinder is cut short when the living legend shows her football skills, planting a kick into Beth’s spine. The redhead arches in pain, reaching for the base of her backbone with her good arm and it only serves as a handle for the ever resourceful Englishwoman. Shea pulls the limb between her legs, scissoring it, then drops to her knees. And Beth is howling again, unsure which arm hurts more.
Shea passes on her foe’s limbs with the next tug, surrounding the cowgirl’s noggin and hauling her up. She bullies the Pale Rider to the ropes, switching her grip to a wrist and Irish Whips Jenkins on her way, Beth racing to the far cables. She returns and is nearly DECAPITATED by a spinning leg lariat from the still acrobatic Shea.
London plants the pirouette and glances over her shoulder at the splayed redhead, the FAWNatics channeling Captain Obvious, chanting “YOU…STILL…GOT…IT”
As if to prove it beyond a reasonable doubt, London moves next to the alabaster abs of her flattened foe, Shea beaming as she sets with her back to Jenkins. The dirty blonde leaps into a spectacular standing moonsault and London comes CRASHING DOWN across the redhead’s KNEES.
A grimacing Beth finds the will to ignore her already growing list of aches and pains to pull into a tuck and point her bony joints at and into the descending midriff of the Sensational One. Shea rolls away from the gutting impact, gagging and hugging her taut belly. Ending on her back, she draws in deep breaths as Bareback rises to ride again. Beth rubs at her lower back as she ascends less than gracefully. But her message is sent well enough when she lays some mudhole-caliber stomps into the splayed Shea.
“I don’t have ta beat ya pretty,” Beth informs. “In fact, the dirtier the better.”
It’s Beth’s turn to grab a wrist and tug her foe to her feet. When London makes it there, Bareback yanks the limb between Shea’s legs, ramming it into the legend’s undercarriage, drawing a yip from London even as Jenkins collects the limb on the opposite side, Beth at the side of the slumped, three-time World Champion.
Draping her chest across London’s back, the Arizona wrangler slips an arm under Shea’s far free wing and reefs back viciously, securing a pumphandle abdominal stretch in the process.
PUMPHANDLE ABDOMINAL STRETCH:
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DWfw3Xf-sWQ )
Al Carpenter gets in the Brit’s plain view and dutifully asks the Sensational One if she wants to give in. He’s met with a risen index finger and a stalwart shake.
“Not any chance in ‘ell,” Shea insists.
Ratcheting up on the pressure draws some mewls from London but she continues refusing to surrender. In fact, the limber and sinewy legend breaks free of the pumphandle grip below and throws her body forward, sending the startled owner of the ‘BJ’ Ranch, flipping over in a modified arm drag that shows just how much power London can still muster in her golden years.
Beth is more shocked than hurt when she hits the canvas and the redhead rolls to her feet, spins and charges the Englishwoman with a Lariat drawn. But the increasingly impressive prodigal daughter of FAWN ducks under and, when Beth spins to find her target, Shea shoots a superkick toward Bareback’s chin.
Unfortunately for London’s Legion, Beth’s not new to this rodeo. She slips under the boot leather. Wrapping around Shea’s frame with the Brit’s leg still raised in a cradle, leaving the blonde dangerously exposed and off-balance, there’s nothing the veteran can do when Jenkins sends Shea up and over with a ring-rattling Exploder Suplex.
EXPLODER SUPLEX @1:00:
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gKkegXZ_YMA )
Jenkins kips to her feet and twirls a mock lasso over her head as she turns to see an arched London, face etched in pain from the stiff landing.
“Ya ain’t seen nuthin yet, Granny,” Beth informs as the Brit makes it to her haunches.
Bareback lines up a return ‘soccer’ kick, this one to Shea’s chest, and fires away, but London’s sneaky fast. Again she dodges skillfully, Beth u-turning through a swing and a miss. London grabs her foe from behind, tripping her to the deck and scrambling aboard the upturned rump of the redhead, matchbooking the writhing former rodeo star for the…
ONE…
TWO…
The freckled fighter shoves her way off her shoulders before Carpenter’s third slap. She scrambles to all fours and sweeps the legs of the advancing Shea. Beth skips to her feet and takes wing to deliver a flying elbow drop but London evacuates from beneath and Jenkins drops the point of her elbow into canvas-covered plywood. A pained Jenkins rises to her knees and ‘walks’ toward the nearest corner, still cradling her throbbing limb.
“Lemme ‘elp ya,” Shea demands, slipping her digits around the ‘good’ wrist of the Arizonan and the scruff Jenkins’ neck, pulling the rowdy redhead to her feet and preparing to introduce Jenkins’ forehead to the top buckle. But Beth gets a boot sole onto the middle one, putting on the brakes. She follows with a pointed swing of her elbow to Shea’s sternum to flip the script. Grabbing the grimacing London’s dirty blonde locks, Beth RAMS the legend’s face into the buckle a full TEN times, the crowd unable to prevent themselves from counting the last few.
With Shea in a stupor after the last, Bareback turns the wobbly London toward the far corner and whips her away, Shea scooting across the expanse at a sprint and turning into a brutal back-first collision that rocks London to her core, sending her splattering to her backside, legs extended in front of her.
The joy in Beth’s face is palpable and she gets on her horse, racing across the ring to bust her little British bronco.
The joy in Beth’s face is palpable and she gets on her horse, racing across the ring to bust her little British bronco. Launching herself off her feet, the Pale Rider grabs the top rope with both hands, one on either side of the turnbuckle, before bringing her hindquarters CRASHING down atop Shea’s chest.
Now, given the details of Jenkins’ former life before FAWN, not only is this maneuver a natural element of the redhead’s moveset, it’s also not surprising that few administer it with the gusto of ‘Bareback’ Beth Jenkins. Between the impacts of the cowgirl’s backside against London’s bosom, the former rodeo queen throws in a few provocative swivels of her hips for good measure, taunting and teasing the FAWNatics as she abuses their heroine. Finally, Beth’s right hand relinquishes its grip on the taut ring rope and travels south, her fingers plunging into the Sensational One’s dampened blonde locks. With Shea’s noggin now under her firm control, the Pale Rider suddenly and violently thrusts her hips forward, SMASHING her crotch into the Brit’s face.
“YIPPEE!”
Again, the cowgirl thrusts her hips forward.
“KI!”
Another thrust.
“YAY!”
And the most savage thrust yet.
“MOTHERF*CKER!”
BRONCO BUSTER:
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=iYMIC6SIGVg )
As Beth steps away, London meekly rolls over to her right hip, the blonde’s left arm spilling over the bottom rope and drooping toward the floor. The British Bombshell’s face is blanched as she attempts to spit some appalling aftertaste out of her mouth. But the redheaded rodeo queen hardly seems satisfied. Placing a boot against Shea’s shoulder, Beth pushes her foe back into the corner, until the back of the blonde’s noggin rests against the bottom turnbuckle. Then, placing a worn sole against London’s cheek, Jenkins forces her foot downward once, twice, and then thrice, the bootleather abrading the Sensational One’s soft skin.
Claiming another handful of the Brit’s locks, Beth pulls her dishragged foe up to rubbery legs and pulls her about an arm’s length out of the corner—creating just enough space for the Pale Rider to worm her way between Shea’s back and the buckles. Beth climbs her way to the middle rope, before raising her right knee and placing it against the back of the Sensational One’s skull. “The real one comes later,” Jenkins hisses. “This’ll do ya for now.”
And with that, the redhead leaps from her perch, gravity pulling her toward the canvas—and her knee DRIVING the Sensational One’s mug into the mat with wicked force. London moans softly as her head turns to leave her cheek resting against the rough canvas, her arms spilling limp at her sides, palms upturned. The impact propels the Brit up to her knees and chest, her raised backside quivering as the aftershocks from her touchdown work their way through the length and breadth of her body.
CALF BRANDING:
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vi-SMa18DQ0 )
Shoveling the spasming blonde to her back, Jenkins goes for the cover, hooking the leg and scoring the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Shea gets a shoulder up.
Beth casts a hopeful glance Al Carpenter’s way, but he only holds up two fingers. “Yeah, lemme tell ya what you can do with those,” the Pale Rider mutters before climbing to her feet. Shea, meanwhile, tumbles over into a face down sprawl, seemingly easy pickings for the redheaded vulture circling above. However, Beth isn’t in any hurry to capitalize. Instead of pulling the living legend up to her feet, Jenkins steps over her back, assuming a standing straddle of the fallen blonde and basking in the jeers of the crowd while she waits for the Sensational One to will herself up…
… and as soon as the British blonde makes it to her hands and knees, the Pale Rider drops her backside onto the base of Shea’s spine. With a dull groan, Shea crumples back to the canvas, but gamely she makes another attempt to reach all fours…
… which ends the same way, with a butt drop from the Pale Rider forcing London back to the mat. And the boos continue, with one fan in the front row even having the temerity in attempt to start a chant of “BOR-ING!” While the rest of the FAWNatics shut that nonsense down right away, the remark does NOT escape Beth’s notice…
… and a cruel twinkle sparks across her eyes.
When Shea again reaches her hands and knees, Jenkins lowers herself again—but much more gently this time, the hollow of the Sensational One’s back forming a most comfortable saddle for Beth as she lets her boots settle against London’s thighs. Gathering another handful of Shea’s tresses, the Pale Rider pulls on that hair, the British beauty hissing in anguish as her head is yanked backward. “Just remember,” Beth taunts, her other reaching behind her to slide down Shea’s backside, “THEY asked for THIS!”
Before the Brit can even wonder what “THIS” might be, she gets her answer, in the form of ‘Bareback’ Beth’s fingers plunging into the fabric of her one piece and ripping into her most sensitive of regions. London lets out a shriek of utter torment, her body involuntarily responding to this torture by scampering forward, her hips swishing and bucking as she attempts to either dislodge the Pale Rider from her back, or at the very least loosen the grip of the redhead’s crotch claw.
Alas, she can achieve neither. Seconds tick by, a seeming eternity until a particularly vindictive pulse of the redhead’s fingers overwhelms London’s arms. Shea’s upper body droops forward, causing Jenkins to slide down her back, Beth’s glutes resting against the back of the Brit’s head for the briefest of moments before she pushes up to her feet.
“Bet you wish you’d kept your ass in soggy ol’ England now, huh, bytch?” the one time rodeo queen sneers, peeling the erstwhile Sensational One off the deck with a handful of hair. Transferring her grip to the blonde’s rest, Beth dismisses her opponent with an Irish whip, London sent hurtling toward the ropes as swiftly as her jellied legs can manage. Beth trails behind, reaching the center of the ring just as Shea’s back meets the ropes. And as those cables propel the Sensational One back toward Jenkins, the Pale Rider raises her right arm, ready to decapitate the living legend with a massive lariat…
LARIAT:
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=5HGRyyg5ass )
Only Shea has other ideas.
Despite the anguish assaulting nearly every nerve ending in her body, the Sensational One has the wits remaining to duck under that powerful scythe of an arm, and as she heads toward the opposite ropes, the hitch in the British blonde’s gitalong seems to ease by the step, until London dives into a handstand. Falling back into the cables as ‘Bareback’ begins to turn, Shea’s feet barely settle against the mat before she throws herself into a back elbow that catches the redhead flush in the chest.
HANDSPRING BACK ELBOW:
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=KTLQwYoA42A )
Forcing her fatigue out of her mind, Shea scrambles to her feet, and it’s now Jenkins who finds herself struggling to make it back to her hands and knees. Returning the favor from earlier, the Sensational One charges forward, launching herself into a somersault before bringing a heel SMASHING down into Beth’s lower back in a somersault axe kick.
SOMERSAULT AXE KICK:
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=l7KHZs7XoD4 )
While London pops back to her feet like a shot, Beth is left dragging herself toward the sanctuary of the ropes. And the FAWNatics, recognizing the beginnings of a London Run when they’re witnessing it, jump to their feet as well. Adrenaline surging through her veins, soothing all sorts of wrongs that had been done to her body in the last few minutes, the Sensational One pivots and sprints toward the far ropes. Rebounding off the cables, Shea shoots back toward her downed opponent with speed few fresh 40 year olds could match, never mind 40 year olds who had been put through the wringer that London had just been.
The British Bombshell then makes her best attempt at the American Pastime, dropping into a slide that culminates in her luscious legs slipping off the apron under the bottom rope, and her forearm BLASTING into Beth’s bosom with a full head of steam behind it.
SLIDING D:
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=JOdF-EjHE1g )
Unfortunately for Shea and her legion of fans, the Brit’s own momentum actually has a fortuitous side effect for the Pale Rider: the force behind London’s forearm sends the redhead tumbling over the bottom rope and collapsing to the floor, the safety of the outside bringing a premature end to this potentially match-turning Run…
… or has it?
Inside the ring, a risen Briton isn’t ready to give her foe any respite. With the reckless abandon of a woman half her age, Shea once again turns and races toward the opposite ropes. And as the Pale Rider picks herself up on the floor, the Sensational One THROWS herself through the gap between the middle and top rope in a stunning suicide dive!
The acrobatic London flies like a missile through the Orlando night and blows up her target, Shea RAMMING into the rowdy redhead and sending Jenkins backpedaling into a clattering impact with the metal barricade behind her. Face etched in pain, back arching, Bareback melts to her knees in front of the Prodigal Daughter, London having landed and remained on her feet.
The Brit grabs a tousle of auburn locks with her left hand and balls her right, looking at the crowd for some advice. The FAWNatics don’t miss their cue, begging for Shea to get all punchy on the cowgirl. London doesn’t disappoint, wailing away with a series of overhand rights to Jenkins’ forehead until Beth eyes are glassy and she remains halfway upright only by the grace of the Englishwoman.
Back in the ring, Carpenter is using his ‘slow count’ to keep the match from being called and an appreciative London responds by ‘helping’ the dazed Arizonan to her feet. Shea rushes her foe to the apron and heaves her in under the bottom rope, Beth rolling to the middle and pushing to her knees, where her swimming senses stop her from rising further.
Instead of climbing back in, London scales the nearest ring post from the outside, ending perched atop the buckles, waiting in an expectant crouch for the battered Jenkins to rise. Slowly, the freckled fighter does just that, blissfully unaware of the lurking legend. London leaps from the heights, folding her right leg, extending the knee, and forcefeeding it to the bridge of Beth’s nose.
Jenkins is sent rocketing to the deck, the back of her skull CRASHING against the thinly-sheathed plywood. Beth is left spread-eagled, another victim of an unquenchable London Run and the crowd roars as Shea passes on the pin and climbs the opposite set of buckles, turning and measuring Jenkins in a frame made of her thumbs and forefingers.
Having placed Beth just so, the Sensational One launches from her stage in a familiar ‘L’ shape, her lethal legs leading the way toward her iconic leg drop. With the end nigh for the rodeo queen, the Pale Rider manages to tap into a final reserve, resuscitating and rolling weakly to the side. It’s enough for the airborne London’s eyes to go wide as, instead of destroying what’s left of the redhead, she instead SPIKES her tailbone into the deck.
London’s hands immediately shoot to her backside as she hops around the ring on her cheeks, features twisted in anguish. Jenkins isn’t enjoying the sight as she’s having enough trouble simply pushing to hands and knees and bringing her circumstances back into focus.
Bareback struggles to her feet and wobbles to the ropes, grabbing them like a stumble buddy. She finds London still massaging her derriere but starting to rise and forces herself into action. The redhead staggers to the ascending London and grabs her from behind, wrapping her right arm around Shea’s throat in a backhand grip, drawing her foe into dragon sleeper position but deciding to take the direct route, laying out and THUMPING Shea’s cranium into the canvas with an Inverted DDT.
INVERTED DDT:
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=65svtOXmq-A )
With London left staring into the rafters, eyes cloudy, Beth scoops up her near foe’s near leg and rolls her into a tight cradle for the…
ONE…
TWO…
London kicks her way free, flopping to her side and drawing an audible sigh of relief from the sellout crowd.
Energized, the freckled fighter scrambles to her knees beside Shea and piefaces the back of London’s skull.
“Fact. You’re going to be ‘BJ’ branded,” Berth informs. “I don’t usually take scrawny sheep on my ranch, but for you I’ll make an exception.”
Bareback Beth latches onto a shoulder and wrist and hauls a rubbery London to her feet. The redhead bullies Shea into the ropes and rebounds, tossing her off with an Irish whip and following to the middle for her return. London sprints through the U-turn, seemingly out of control but when Jenkins throws a back fist at the legend’s chin, London’s able to duck under and continue her trip to the next set of strands. Rebounding once more, Shea looks ready to go on offense with this approach, only to be nearly beheaded by a Discus Clothesline from the cowgirl, Beth dropping the Sensational One like a hot rock.
Jenkins stands in a straddle over the waylaid London and mimes planting her ‘branding iron’ in the front of the Brit’s thigh.
“When you become the first member of my new herd, Bethany won’t be able to ignore me.”
Jenkins turns to the nearest lens.
“I ran the Bloodwinds off. I’m beating your chosen one down. You will pay attention!”
Bareback maneuvers the Manchester native to her knees, yanking the nearly deadweight there before surrounding Shea’s head in a front facelock and laying out, SPIKING London’s forehead into the mat with a Kneeling DDT.
KNEELING DDT:
( (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b8NDb2XuTIU )
Shea ends face down and twitching. A beaming Beth shovels London to her back. She places one palm on her foe’s chest the other on Shea’s crotch, arrogantly taking out the past and present face of FAWN with the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
The conceit by the redhead leaves a back door open and the Sensational One scoots through, shifting a shoulder a few inches off the deck to save herself. And the cowgirl is furious at London’s contempt, paintbrushing Shea’s cheek with a wicked slap that turns her foe’s head on a swivel, cheek flushing from the impact.
Beth tows what’s left of London off the deck, sliding behind her fabled foe. Again, she wraps a backhand grip around London’s neck, pulling her into a backward arch. But it seems clear this time Shea will be heading to Boot Hill with an elevated implant version of the inverted DDT that buried many Desert Divas on Beth’s recent rampage through the developmental.
BURIED AT BOOT HILL:
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=pAw8i0E_hkQ )
But as Beth launches the blonde, the veteran London add some extra ‘oomph’ behind the take off and Jenkins can’t control her foe. Shea tumbles over the cowgirl’s right shoulder, landing behind the redhead. Instinctively, the Brit takes off to the ropes behind her and charges the Pale Rider, leaping toward Beth for a hurricarana. But Jenkins catches Shea on her hip and juggles the captured Englishwoman onto her right shoulder. The redhead folds Shea’s arms behind her and sends London twisting to the deck with a vicious Sun Devil
SUN DEVIL:
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=4VXh8LII1T8 )
Already draped across the demolished London, Beth hooks a leg for insurance and gets the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Shea gets a shoulder up!
A frustrated Beth tosses the Sensational One’s gam aside. Swinging a leg of her own over London’s midriff to loom over the near senseless blonde in an ominous straddle. Burying her left hand in London’s dark lock, the redheaded rodeo queen tugs her foe’s head off the mat, and then simply begins unloading with barrage of brazen (and illegal) closed fists, earning herself a scolding from Al Carpenter but minimal protests from the British Bombshell, other than some twitching and soft, garbled groans.
Ending the onslaught at the count of four, Jenkins rises, pulling Shea up onto rubbery legs. Holding the seemingly helpless blonde out in front of her, the Pale Rider threads her right arm underneath London’s right, applying a half nelson. Having been denied a burial at Boot Hill, it appears Beth is ready to claim her victory with her rarely seen yet equally devastating Hog Tie Driver.
HOG TIE DRIVER:
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=jZSgm7Q6nzk&feature=youtu.be )
But before the redhead can grab Shea’s left arm, the FAWN Original shows some of her legendary resiliency by cocking that elbow and RAMMING the bony joint backward, catching Beth in the jaw with enough force to loosen—but not fully break—the half nelson. A second elbow, on the other hand, does the trick. And a third, the most forceful yet, sends both staggering away from each other in opposing directions.
Beth rights herself swiftly, turning with a snarl toward her opponent… but the Sensational One, seemingly all but dead just moments ago, is crouched and ready, launching a superkick that SMASHES into Jenkins’ jaw from underneath. The Pale Rider is rocked back on her heels, yet in an impressive show of determination, she remains on suddenly rubbery legs. Though while she might be upright, the drunken semicircle she stumbles in that brings her back into the Sensational One’s orbit indicates that she is nevertheless not all there.
Smelling blood, London doesn’t hesitate. Grabbing Beth by the wrist, Shea sets her feet and attempts what initially looks to be an ordinary Irish whip. Of course, when she abruptly starts to reel the cowgirl back in towards her, the British Bombshell’s true intentions become clear. And after she grabs a double handhold on Jenkins’ skull and pulls her foe’s noggin over her shoulder, London kicks up her legs and lays out, launching the FAWNatics into a standing ovation for her London Calling!
LONDON CALLING:
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=6NCPRcQVtKE&feature=youtu.be&t=347 )
The Sensational One turns and throws herself atop the Pale Rider, gathering up and hooking both legs, just to be on the safe side. And the crowd counts along, their collective voice thundering throughout the FAWN Arena as Carpenter slaps off the…
“ONE…
TWO…
THREE!!!!!”
Shea discards Beth’s gams as the bell sounds, the exhausted blonde continuing to recline against the beaten rodeo queen’s torso. The wins… well, they had NEVER “come easy” for the living legend—that was part of what had made her the icon that she was. But there was no denying that they came easier fifteen years ago or so than they do today. They didn’t leave her as tired as she had felt after beating Kathryn, after beating Lydia, and now after beating Beth. London allows herself the luxury of catching her breath, while the ring announcer makes it official.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he proclaims, “your winner, via pinfall… SHHHEEEAAA LOOONNNDDDOOONNN!!!!!”
Al Carpenter offers the victorious blonde a helping hand back to her feet, which she readily accepts, the referee raising her hand in triumph. When Al lets go of her wrist, London’s stems briefly buckle, sending her stumbling forward. Thankfully, the ropes are there to catch her, and Shea leans against the cables for a few more seconds’ worth of rejuvenation. Finally, she pushes away from the cables, turning back toward the center of the ri…
“OOOOOOOPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!”
“Bareback” Beth had recovered a little quicker in defeat than Shea had in victory, and she catches the turning Briton with a boot that plows into her stomach juuust below the belly button, folding London in half. Jenkins is on her in an instant, pulling the blonde’s head under her arm and intercepting Shea’s left arm on its way to hug her gulping tummy by snatching a wrist. The redhead then pivots and takes both herself and the Sensational One down to the canvas with a crisp and brutal swinging neckbreaker.
SWINGING NECKBREAKER:
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=eEEISEWzfWg )
“C’MON, BETH,” Al attempts to scold her, “MATCH IS OVVVUUUUGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Clearly having had her fill of the official during the match, the Pale Rider cuts him off with a kick as well, though her boot to Carpenter lands considerably lower than the one that had hit Shea, dropping the zebra into a fetal ball on the mat. With that annoying horsefly taken out of commission, Beth turns back to Shea, who is struggling to make it back to all fours. Jenkins gives her a hand by pulling her up, before spinning the Sensational One away from her and lacing her arm across London’s throat. With a handful of spandex at the Brit’s hip, Beth grunts and heaves the glistening blonde off her feet, before falling back and SPIKING Shea on her cranium, the Sensational One at last Buried at Boot Hill.
BURIED AT BOOT HILL:
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=pAw8i0E_hkQ )
Had this been part of the match, Carpenter likely could have counted to a thousand, judging by the spasming lump of jellied flesh that Shea London had been rendered. But that was no longer a concern, and anyway, Al currently is no more capable of administering a count than London is of kicking out. Satisfied that she can proceed without any further interruptions, the Pale Rider drops to the mat and rolls under the bottom rope.
Alas, any thought that she might be done is eliminated when the redhead casually saunters over to the timekeeper’s table, retrieving both her lasso and, most distressingly of all, her branding gun. Returning to the ring, Jenkins leaves her ‘iron’ in the corner before making her way over to the splattered Sensational One, Beth dropping to her knees and pulling the British blonde up to a seated position. Allowing London’s weight to sink back against her, Beth reaches over the older woman’s shoulder, pulling Shea’s knees up toward her chest before crossing London’s ankles. Demonstrating just how good she was at her former profession, Bareback gets those ankles bound in no time flat, then pushes down on Shea’s knees, forcing the Brit into something akin to sitting Indian style. Beth then pushes London’s limp arms in front of her, the Sensational One’s hands conveniently spilling into the keyhole between her thighs. A moment later, and Jenkins has those wrists not only similarly bound, but also secured underneath and against London’s ankles.
Her ropework done, the Pale Rider wraps her arms around London’s waist, and with a soft grunt muscles the blonde up, just enough to place her on her knees and chest—and with Shea’s delightful derriere raised toward the rafters, exposed and utterly defenseless. As some lustful cheers from the heel marks in the crowd begin to intermix with the boos, Beth stokes the flames on both sides by putting a taunting swish in her hips as she moves to retrieve her branding gun. Circling toward London’s feet, she couldn’t help but smirk at the soft, almost pathetic murmurs the blonde was beginning to offer as her consciousness started to return.
This bit was always more satisfying when they were awake enough to KNOW what was happening. And yet…
Something wasn’t right.
Even if every single black hat in Section 1408 was screaming his ass off in approval, the cheers for what was about to happen shouldn’t be THIS loud. Lowering the branding iron, Beth turns, just in time to see…
HONEY HARRIS:
… Honey Harris springing to her feet, having slid under the bottom rope. More annoyed than distressed, Jenkins tosses away her branding gun, raises her arm and charges forward, hoping to catch the interloper with a wicked running clothesline. But the youngster is ready, ducking under that arm and sprinting into the opposite ropes. The Pale Rider turns and quickly reacquires her target, but even as she’s figuring out how next to proceed, the British blonde is flying toward her, Honey’s legs scissoring Beth’s waist as she looks down at the mat. Pushing up from the canvas, Honey turns her body, swiftly wrapping an arm around Beth’s neck before throwing her weight into the full reverse, connecting with a savage Wheelbarrow DDT!
WHEELBARROW DDT:
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=YUyps-UFFv8 )
The stunned redhead rolls under the bottom rope, only just barely getting her feet under her as she drops to the floor. All things being equal, there would be no doubt in Beth’s mind that she could take this British brat. But all things AREN’T equal. She had just fought a grueling match with Shea, while Honey was probably backstage jerking off Oberon. Stumbling back up the ramp in reverse, Jenkins shouts after the blonde, “YOU JUST MADE THE BIGGEST MISTAKE OF YOUR LIFE, BUCKO!”
“Not as big a mistake as wearing a thong with that flat of a backpack,” Harris claps back, standing at the ropes. “But you’re welcome to do something about it. Of course, we know most of you Naught Dotties are more bark than bite.”
Beth takes one step back toward the ring, before she thinks better of it. Dismissing the smug blonde with a scowl and a wave of her hand, the Pale Rider turns and stalks back up the ramp, not only deprived her victory but also her prize. Feeling more than a little pleased with herself, Honey turns away from the ropes… and freezes.
Because that’s when it hits her.
She had just saved Shea London.
She was standing in the same ring as Shea London.
Taking absolutely nothing away from the Sammie Sinclair’s of the world, to British girls of Honey’s generation, Shea London was women’s wrestling. Certainly British women’s wrestling. And she, Honey Blossom Harris, had just saved “Sensational” Shea London from a massive indignity…
It was about as surreal a set of circumstances as Honey can imagine, an atmosphere that is only slightly punctured by the following words.
“Uhhhh… little help?”
“OH!!!” the younger blonde blushed, dropping to her knees to set about untying her idol. And she continues to apologize profusely, even as she undoes each knot.
“It’s okay….” Shea assures her, Honey pushing up to her feet before reaching down to pull London up as well. “Thanks, ‘Oney…”
“Uhhhhhh…” Harris stammers. “It’s… uhhh… I mean… No need to be formal, you can call me Honey!”
The Sensational One shakes her head with a bemused grin, but doesn’t correct the younger Briton in any way. Instead, she offers Harris her hand… and Honey takes it, not only shaking hands with a legend, but pulling London into a warm embrace. An embrace encompassing FAWN’s past, its present… and possibly its future?
The man in the tuxedo lets his voice trail off. However, having been fooled once just one month ago, the FAWNatics don’t rise to the bait, resulting in an ever so slightly awkward moment of silence, punctuated by the occasional chuckle from the crowd.
The announcer can’t help but grin before resuming with, “… one fall!”
“THREE FALLS!” one front row fan shouts, causing the bemused announcer to shake his head.
“You’ll have to ask the girls about that,” he says. “Introducing first, hailing from Manchester, England in the United Kingdom. She stands five feet four inches tall and weighs in this evening at one hundred and twenty pounds. She is the icon… the living legend… the Sensational One herself… SHHHEEEAAA LOOONNNDDDOOONNN!!!!!”
The arena PA system came to life, a voice posing a single question to tonight’s pumped up crowd:
“Do you wanna get rocked?”
Judging by the deafening roar from the FAWNatics, this is precisely their greatest wish.
SHEA LONDON:
”LET’S GET ROCKED”:
Def Leppard - Let's Get Rocked [HQ]
As Def Leppard’s “Let’s Get Rocked” pumps over the arena’s speakers, the curtains part, and “Sensational” Shea London emerges onto the ramp. While it is said that familiarity breeds contempt, there is nothing but love in the FAWNatics’ response to the returning legend. Just as in her previous appearances since her return, the gorgeous blonde sports a pleasingly “Old School” look: visible underneath an open, traditional, red ring jacket is a one piece proudly emblazoned in the Union Jack, the red stripes of the cross running from the scooped neckline to between her legs and underneath her bosom, respectively, her eyes shielded behind a pair of stylish shades. Red knee and elbow pads along with blue boots complete her ensemble.
The blonde Briton darts down to the ring, her million megawatt smile on full display as she slaps hands with a FAWN fandom populous that still doesn’t seem quite fully ready to believe that this woman might once again be a part of the full time roster. But, back the British beauty truly is, and with a couple of wins under her belt to prove it.
Of course, now some amongst the FAWNatics have had the opportunity to prepare signs to greet Sensational One’s appearance. A particular one catches London’s eyes at ringside: a sheet of posterboard which simply reads “SENSATIONAL > GOLDEN”, with pictures of Shea and Samantha Sinclair underneath their respective superlative.
It would seem that someone has an issue with a recent Gladiatrix cover.
However, that sentiment apparently isn’t shared by Shea herself. “Now now,” the FAWN icon and legend admonishes that spectator. “No need ta try an’ pit me an’ Sammie against each other!”
“It wouldn’t be a contest!” the fan answers back, unrepentant. “You’d wipe the mat with her!”
“Well, yeah,” London responds, her grin indicating exactly where the Brit’s tongue is positioned in relation to her cheek. “But I ‘aven’t got either tha reason or tha desire ta. I like tha lass. She likes me. An’ y’know, even with you ‘oldin’ up tha’ sign, she prolly likes ya, too.”
Having made her sentiments known, London now heads to the ring. Climbing the steps, Shea slips between the ropes and steps toward her corner. Mounting the middle rope, London slips her ring jacket down her shoulders, Shea’s grin growing broader as the crowd enjoys the tease...
Once Shea’s feet return to the canvas, the announcer steps back toward center ring, ready to introduce the Sensational One’s opponent.
The crowd doesn’t seem to care who London’s about to face so excited are they FAWN’s once and perhaps future face is back amongst the people who adore her.
They are shaken out of their Lovefest when “Wildflower” by JaneDear Girls reverberates through the bowl.
”WILDFLOWER”:
The JaneDear Girls - Wildflower (Video)
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=NC0IhlquYlI )
BETH JENKINS:
Quickly behind the accompaniment, the organization’s infamous Arizonan appears and the cowgirl’s greeting is far less welcoming than the icon from Manchester. The freckled redhead is clad in her trademark attire, flag of the Grand Canyon State patterned on her vest—small enough to leave a sliver of midsection bare—blue thong bottoms and tan leather chaps. Her feet are adorned in a pair of battered old cowboy boots, spurs clicking against the floor as she saunters down the aisle. A coiled lasso is attached to her hip, and sitting atop her head is a black cowboy hat with a curved brim.
Noticeably present is the grappler’s infamous mock ‘branding iron’, the ‘Wild West’-inspired ink gun she’d used to ‘assign’ several wrestlers to her ‘BJ’ ranch, most notably Portia VanBuren not long after the cowgirl’s entry into the organization. The last several years hadn’t been kind to Bareback’s FAWN career as she’d fallen into obscurity. And the decision of her most torrid rivals, the Bloodwinds, to take their talents elsewhere certainly didn’t seem to trend their fellow Arizonan in the right direction. But tonight Jenkins is in the right spot at the right time.
Ignoring the jeers and catcalls from the crowd, the Pale Rider strides directly and determinedly toward the squared circle. The redhead looks as though she’s headed down Main Street of old Tombstone at high noon, keeping out of the reach of those extending for a handshake or high-five as if the rabble are not worthy of her time.
As she reaches the ring, the PA makes the cowgirl’s long-awaited arrival back to Pay-Per-View action an official one.
“And her opponent…hailing from Tombstone, Arizona, standing five feet six inches tall and weighing in at one hundred and twenty pounds… ‘BAREBACK’ BEEETTTHHH JEEENNNKKKIIINNNSSS!!!!!”
The redhead continues past the steps and to the announcer’s table. Beth turns in her spurs, lasso and ten-gallon for a microphone. Jenkins raises the stick to her rosy lips as she walks back to the steps, strides up, and slips through the ropes, staring holes through the Sensational One.
“Well lookie, ‘ere,” Beth says, walking up and down the length of the ring, twirling the ‘iron’ in her opposite fingers.
“Someone who was actually gone, doesn’t have half my talent nor have half what she used to have gets another PPV spot. Limey. Christian must have it out for you tonight. Either that or she’s a dumb bytch who thinks she can use me to build you up. Because when she sees me make Shea London the first of a brand new ‘BJ’ herd, she’s not going to know whether to spit or swalluh.”
The crowd boos lustily as Bareback raises the ‘branding iron’ high then plants it into the canvas to leave her mark, black ink injected into the mat before the freckled cowgirl pulls the ‘iron’ off and places it carefully in her corner.
She hands over the microphone to a FAWN flunky and moves toward the middle, ready to grab this chance like a bull by the horns. The ginger cowgirl drops into an expectant crouch, waiting for the bell to ring.
The bell sounds, and the Sensational One wastes no time in joining Jenkins mid-ring, nor does she hesitate for even a second in throwing herself into the collar and elbow. And then things slow down, just a bit, and not particularly surprisingly. After all, apart from a couple of inches in height in the American’s favor, there’s a fair amount of similarity in these two women’s build…
… but it would seem that those couple of extra inches do have something to them, as after the initial stalemate, ‘Bareback’ Beth begins to walk her adversary backward. Shea doesn’t retreat willingly or readily, but before long, the British blonde finds her back pressed against the rubber coated steel of the ropes. “Alright, break!” the referee commands.
Beth will have none of, leeeeaning all of her weight into the collar and elbow, keeping London pinned between herself and the cables. “Gonna be a loooooong night for you, honeybun,” the redhead hisses. “I’m not just gonna put you away wet. You’re getting’ put away drenched!”
When it becomes apparent that the Pale Rider intends to take advantage of every second afforded to her by the rules, the official obliges her by beginning his count.
“ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
FOUR!!!!”
Beth pulls her hands back… but only momentarily, her open palms striking against London’s sternum with a loud ‘SMECK!’
Her features clouding into a snarl, the Sensational One surges off the ropes, and Jenkins braces herself for another tie up… only when Beth’s arm rise up, Shea’s upper body dips down, the cowgirl transformed into an unwilling matador as London slips by her, much to the FAWNatics’ delight. Righting her balance quickly, the Pal Rider spins around, only to find the British beauty already waiting for.
And Shea’s open hand greets Jenkins’ cheek, London’s palm meeting alabaster skin with a loud ‘THWAAAK!’
The cowgirl’s head swivels from the impact, crimson locks fanning into the air as Beth is sent turning away from her opponent. The slap might have made them even, but Shea apparently isn’t satisfied with that, for she follows up by sending a boot ‘THWAAP!’ing off Bareback’s OTHER set of (bared) cheeks, which meets with even more raucous approval from tonight’s capacity crowd.
Jenkins turns back toward the Brit with a yelp, both hands moving to massage her backside.
“Consider tha’ MY brand, darlin’,” the Sensational One says with a grin, in her most convincing approximation of a wild west drawl—which is to say, not very convincing at all, not that the fans begrudge her for the effort.
“Oh, you’re just BEGGING for an ass-kicking now, sugar,” Beth mutters, London responding with a shrug as she sinks into a tensed crouch of her own. And again, the blonde and the redhead lock up center ring. Alas, the second verse proves much similar to the first, the Pale Rider gradually beginning to force the Sensational One into a backpedal. The only significant difference is that, this time, Shea finds herself halted not by the ropes but by a set of turnbuckle, once she is driven back into the near corner.
“Come on, Beth,” the ref chides her. “I want a clean break this time.”
And, to just about everyone’s surprise, it initially looks as if he’s going to get it. Almost immediately, the cowgirl pulls back her hands—but, just as swiftly, her knee rises up, PLOWING into Shea’s vulnerable midsection. London’s cheeks puff as she lets out a gasp of air, and a second kneelift threatens to cross the Sensational One’s eyes as she doubles forward.
“HOPE Y’ALL ENJOYED THAT LAUGH,” Beth shouts over Shea’s slumped shoulder at the crowd. “CAUSE I’M ABOUT TO SHOW Y’ALL THAT IT’S THIS BYTCH AND HER COMEBACK THAT’S THE JOKE!”
Setting her feet, Jenkins takes her foe by the wrist and sends her racing across the ring. Sprinting across the canvas, London manages to turn her back at the last possible second, and when her spine slams into the opposite corner’s set of turnbuckles, the Sensational One’s noggin whips forward, her arms spilling across the top rope as a shimmy runs through her shapely legs. The Pale Rider apparently likes what she sees, and takes off in a sprint of her own toward her slumping opponent. As she knees, Jenkins raises her right arm, intending to smash a running clothesline into London’s clavicle…
Instead, Beth charged into a raised boot from the FAWN Original, that catches her flush under the chin. As if struck by a bullet from a six shooter, the redhead wheels around, staggering drunkenly away as one hand rises to inspect whether or not her jaw is still in one piece. Meanwhile, as soon as London gets both her boots back underneath her, the blonde charges out of the corner, coming up alongside Jenkins off her left flank. Leaping into the air, the British beauty reaches out a hand, one hand grabbing the back of Beth’s head as Shea kicks her legs out in front of her, the living legend SLAMMING her foe’s mug into the mat with a running bulldog.
The Pale Rider flops over onto her back, arms and legs absently splayed. And Shea promptly tosses herself across Beth’s chest, gathering up and hooking the outside leg.
ONE…
TWO…
NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Jenkins kicks out.
Beth quickly works her way up to a seated position, the redhead’s eyes locking on London’s as the British blonde rests on one knee. “’Ow’s tha’ ol’ sayin’ go?” Shea asks. “All ‘at an’ no cattle?”
Jenkins snarls at the unbridled arrogance of Manchester’s own and swings an open hand toward Shea’s cheek to slap the taste from London’s lips. But the Sensational One is ready, latching onto Bareback’s wrist before she can lay a palm to the Brit’s face. Rising, she draws Beth up with her and when each is on their feet, Shea buggywhips the cowgirl’s arm without letting go, wrenching both elbow and shoulder in turn.
“FOCK!” the freckled fighter yelps. Her mood doesn’t get any better when London twists the limb in her possession then deftly maneuvers behind the redhead to create a chickenwing, bringing Beth to tiptoes as she lifts Jenkins’ folded limb higher.
Jenkins swings her opposite elbow blindly behind her, hoping to crack the point into London’s temple but the veteran ducks under the effort and converts the momentum. Shea scoops the off-balance Beth from the deck and deposits her with a simple but oh so effective side suplex, London making sure Jenkins’ full body weight lands on her folded arm.
The lids over Beth’s gray-green eyes clench as she rises to a seated position, cradling her injured wing close and cursing under her breath.
“You are soAHHH.”
Beth’s rejoinder is cut short when the living legend shows her football skills, planting a kick into Beth’s spine. The redhead arches in pain, reaching for the base of her backbone with her good arm and it only serves as a handle for the ever resourceful Englishwoman. Shea pulls the limb between her legs, scissoring it, then drops to her knees. And Beth is howling again, unsure which arm hurts more.
Shea passes on her foe’s limbs with the next tug, surrounding the cowgirl’s noggin and hauling her up. She bullies the Pale Rider to the ropes, switching her grip to a wrist and Irish Whips Jenkins on her way, Beth racing to the far cables. She returns and is nearly DECAPITATED by a spinning leg lariat from the still acrobatic Shea.
London plants the pirouette and glances over her shoulder at the splayed redhead, the FAWNatics channeling Captain Obvious, chanting “YOU…STILL…GOT…IT”
As if to prove it beyond a reasonable doubt, London moves next to the alabaster abs of her flattened foe, Shea beaming as she sets with her back to Jenkins. The dirty blonde leaps into a spectacular standing moonsault and London comes CRASHING DOWN across the redhead’s KNEES.
A grimacing Beth finds the will to ignore her already growing list of aches and pains to pull into a tuck and point her bony joints at and into the descending midriff of the Sensational One. Shea rolls away from the gutting impact, gagging and hugging her taut belly. Ending on her back, she draws in deep breaths as Bareback rises to ride again. Beth rubs at her lower back as she ascends less than gracefully. But her message is sent well enough when she lays some mudhole-caliber stomps into the splayed Shea.
“I don’t have ta beat ya pretty,” Beth informs. “In fact, the dirtier the better.”
It’s Beth’s turn to grab a wrist and tug her foe to her feet. When London makes it there, Bareback yanks the limb between Shea’s legs, ramming it into the legend’s undercarriage, drawing a yip from London even as Jenkins collects the limb on the opposite side, Beth at the side of the slumped, three-time World Champion.
Draping her chest across London’s back, the Arizona wrangler slips an arm under Shea’s far free wing and reefs back viciously, securing a pumphandle abdominal stretch in the process.
PUMPHANDLE ABDOMINAL STRETCH:
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DWfw3Xf-sWQ )
Al Carpenter gets in the Brit’s plain view and dutifully asks the Sensational One if she wants to give in. He’s met with a risen index finger and a stalwart shake.
“Not any chance in ‘ell,” Shea insists.
Ratcheting up on the pressure draws some mewls from London but she continues refusing to surrender. In fact, the limber and sinewy legend breaks free of the pumphandle grip below and throws her body forward, sending the startled owner of the ‘BJ’ Ranch, flipping over in a modified arm drag that shows just how much power London can still muster in her golden years.
Beth is more shocked than hurt when she hits the canvas and the redhead rolls to her feet, spins and charges the Englishwoman with a Lariat drawn. But the increasingly impressive prodigal daughter of FAWN ducks under and, when Beth spins to find her target, Shea shoots a superkick toward Bareback’s chin.
Unfortunately for London’s Legion, Beth’s not new to this rodeo. She slips under the boot leather. Wrapping around Shea’s frame with the Brit’s leg still raised in a cradle, leaving the blonde dangerously exposed and off-balance, there’s nothing the veteran can do when Jenkins sends Shea up and over with a ring-rattling Exploder Suplex.
EXPLODER SUPLEX @1:00:
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gKkegXZ_YMA )
Jenkins kips to her feet and twirls a mock lasso over her head as she turns to see an arched London, face etched in pain from the stiff landing.
“Ya ain’t seen nuthin yet, Granny,” Beth informs as the Brit makes it to her haunches.
Bareback lines up a return ‘soccer’ kick, this one to Shea’s chest, and fires away, but London’s sneaky fast. Again she dodges skillfully, Beth u-turning through a swing and a miss. London grabs her foe from behind, tripping her to the deck and scrambling aboard the upturned rump of the redhead, matchbooking the writhing former rodeo star for the…
ONE…
TWO…
The freckled fighter shoves her way off her shoulders before Carpenter’s third slap. She scrambles to all fours and sweeps the legs of the advancing Shea. Beth skips to her feet and takes wing to deliver a flying elbow drop but London evacuates from beneath and Jenkins drops the point of her elbow into canvas-covered plywood. A pained Jenkins rises to her knees and ‘walks’ toward the nearest corner, still cradling her throbbing limb.
“Lemme ‘elp ya,” Shea demands, slipping her digits around the ‘good’ wrist of the Arizonan and the scruff Jenkins’ neck, pulling the rowdy redhead to her feet and preparing to introduce Jenkins’ forehead to the top buckle. But Beth gets a boot sole onto the middle one, putting on the brakes. She follows with a pointed swing of her elbow to Shea’s sternum to flip the script. Grabbing the grimacing London’s dirty blonde locks, Beth RAMS the legend’s face into the buckle a full TEN times, the crowd unable to prevent themselves from counting the last few.
With Shea in a stupor after the last, Bareback turns the wobbly London toward the far corner and whips her away, Shea scooting across the expanse at a sprint and turning into a brutal back-first collision that rocks London to her core, sending her splattering to her backside, legs extended in front of her.
The joy in Beth’s face is palpable and she gets on her horse, racing across the ring to bust her little British bronco.
The joy in Beth’s face is palpable and she gets on her horse, racing across the ring to bust her little British bronco. Launching herself off her feet, the Pale Rider grabs the top rope with both hands, one on either side of the turnbuckle, before bringing her hindquarters CRASHING down atop Shea’s chest.
Now, given the details of Jenkins’ former life before FAWN, not only is this maneuver a natural element of the redhead’s moveset, it’s also not surprising that few administer it with the gusto of ‘Bareback’ Beth Jenkins. Between the impacts of the cowgirl’s backside against London’s bosom, the former rodeo queen throws in a few provocative swivels of her hips for good measure, taunting and teasing the FAWNatics as she abuses their heroine. Finally, Beth’s right hand relinquishes its grip on the taut ring rope and travels south, her fingers plunging into the Sensational One’s dampened blonde locks. With Shea’s noggin now under her firm control, the Pale Rider suddenly and violently thrusts her hips forward, SMASHING her crotch into the Brit’s face.
“YIPPEE!”
Again, the cowgirl thrusts her hips forward.
“KI!”
Another thrust.
“YAY!”
And the most savage thrust yet.
“MOTHERF*CKER!”
BRONCO BUSTER:
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=iYMIC6SIGVg )
As Beth steps away, London meekly rolls over to her right hip, the blonde’s left arm spilling over the bottom rope and drooping toward the floor. The British Bombshell’s face is blanched as she attempts to spit some appalling aftertaste out of her mouth. But the redheaded rodeo queen hardly seems satisfied. Placing a boot against Shea’s shoulder, Beth pushes her foe back into the corner, until the back of the blonde’s noggin rests against the bottom turnbuckle. Then, placing a worn sole against London’s cheek, Jenkins forces her foot downward once, twice, and then thrice, the bootleather abrading the Sensational One’s soft skin.
Claiming another handful of the Brit’s locks, Beth pulls her dishragged foe up to rubbery legs and pulls her about an arm’s length out of the corner—creating just enough space for the Pale Rider to worm her way between Shea’s back and the buckles. Beth climbs her way to the middle rope, before raising her right knee and placing it against the back of the Sensational One’s skull. “The real one comes later,” Jenkins hisses. “This’ll do ya for now.”
And with that, the redhead leaps from her perch, gravity pulling her toward the canvas—and her knee DRIVING the Sensational One’s mug into the mat with wicked force. London moans softly as her head turns to leave her cheek resting against the rough canvas, her arms spilling limp at her sides, palms upturned. The impact propels the Brit up to her knees and chest, her raised backside quivering as the aftershocks from her touchdown work their way through the length and breadth of her body.
CALF BRANDING:
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vi-SMa18DQ0 )
Shoveling the spasming blonde to her back, Jenkins goes for the cover, hooking the leg and scoring the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Shea gets a shoulder up.
Beth casts a hopeful glance Al Carpenter’s way, but he only holds up two fingers. “Yeah, lemme tell ya what you can do with those,” the Pale Rider mutters before climbing to her feet. Shea, meanwhile, tumbles over into a face down sprawl, seemingly easy pickings for the redheaded vulture circling above. However, Beth isn’t in any hurry to capitalize. Instead of pulling the living legend up to her feet, Jenkins steps over her back, assuming a standing straddle of the fallen blonde and basking in the jeers of the crowd while she waits for the Sensational One to will herself up…
… and as soon as the British blonde makes it to her hands and knees, the Pale Rider drops her backside onto the base of Shea’s spine. With a dull groan, Shea crumples back to the canvas, but gamely she makes another attempt to reach all fours…
… which ends the same way, with a butt drop from the Pale Rider forcing London back to the mat. And the boos continue, with one fan in the front row even having the temerity in attempt to start a chant of “BOR-ING!” While the rest of the FAWNatics shut that nonsense down right away, the remark does NOT escape Beth’s notice…
… and a cruel twinkle sparks across her eyes.
When Shea again reaches her hands and knees, Jenkins lowers herself again—but much more gently this time, the hollow of the Sensational One’s back forming a most comfortable saddle for Beth as she lets her boots settle against London’s thighs. Gathering another handful of Shea’s tresses, the Pale Rider pulls on that hair, the British beauty hissing in anguish as her head is yanked backward. “Just remember,” Beth taunts, her other reaching behind her to slide down Shea’s backside, “THEY asked for THIS!”
Before the Brit can even wonder what “THIS” might be, she gets her answer, in the form of ‘Bareback’ Beth’s fingers plunging into the fabric of her one piece and ripping into her most sensitive of regions. London lets out a shriek of utter torment, her body involuntarily responding to this torture by scampering forward, her hips swishing and bucking as she attempts to either dislodge the Pale Rider from her back, or at the very least loosen the grip of the redhead’s crotch claw.
Alas, she can achieve neither. Seconds tick by, a seeming eternity until a particularly vindictive pulse of the redhead’s fingers overwhelms London’s arms. Shea’s upper body droops forward, causing Jenkins to slide down her back, Beth’s glutes resting against the back of the Brit’s head for the briefest of moments before she pushes up to her feet.
“Bet you wish you’d kept your ass in soggy ol’ England now, huh, bytch?” the one time rodeo queen sneers, peeling the erstwhile Sensational One off the deck with a handful of hair. Transferring her grip to the blonde’s rest, Beth dismisses her opponent with an Irish whip, London sent hurtling toward the ropes as swiftly as her jellied legs can manage. Beth trails behind, reaching the center of the ring just as Shea’s back meets the ropes. And as those cables propel the Sensational One back toward Jenkins, the Pale Rider raises her right arm, ready to decapitate the living legend with a massive lariat…
LARIAT:
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=5HGRyyg5ass )
Only Shea has other ideas.
Despite the anguish assaulting nearly every nerve ending in her body, the Sensational One has the wits remaining to duck under that powerful scythe of an arm, and as she heads toward the opposite ropes, the hitch in the British blonde’s gitalong seems to ease by the step, until London dives into a handstand. Falling back into the cables as ‘Bareback’ begins to turn, Shea’s feet barely settle against the mat before she throws herself into a back elbow that catches the redhead flush in the chest.
HANDSPRING BACK ELBOW:
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=KTLQwYoA42A )
Forcing her fatigue out of her mind, Shea scrambles to her feet, and it’s now Jenkins who finds herself struggling to make it back to her hands and knees. Returning the favor from earlier, the Sensational One charges forward, launching herself into a somersault before bringing a heel SMASHING down into Beth’s lower back in a somersault axe kick.
SOMERSAULT AXE KICK:
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=l7KHZs7XoD4 )
While London pops back to her feet like a shot, Beth is left dragging herself toward the sanctuary of the ropes. And the FAWNatics, recognizing the beginnings of a London Run when they’re witnessing it, jump to their feet as well. Adrenaline surging through her veins, soothing all sorts of wrongs that had been done to her body in the last few minutes, the Sensational One pivots and sprints toward the far ropes. Rebounding off the cables, Shea shoots back toward her downed opponent with speed few fresh 40 year olds could match, never mind 40 year olds who had been put through the wringer that London had just been.
The British Bombshell then makes her best attempt at the American Pastime, dropping into a slide that culminates in her luscious legs slipping off the apron under the bottom rope, and her forearm BLASTING into Beth’s bosom with a full head of steam behind it.
SLIDING D:
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=JOdF-EjHE1g )
Unfortunately for Shea and her legion of fans, the Brit’s own momentum actually has a fortuitous side effect for the Pale Rider: the force behind London’s forearm sends the redhead tumbling over the bottom rope and collapsing to the floor, the safety of the outside bringing a premature end to this potentially match-turning Run…
… or has it?
Inside the ring, a risen Briton isn’t ready to give her foe any respite. With the reckless abandon of a woman half her age, Shea once again turns and races toward the opposite ropes. And as the Pale Rider picks herself up on the floor, the Sensational One THROWS herself through the gap between the middle and top rope in a stunning suicide dive!
The acrobatic London flies like a missile through the Orlando night and blows up her target, Shea RAMMING into the rowdy redhead and sending Jenkins backpedaling into a clattering impact with the metal barricade behind her. Face etched in pain, back arching, Bareback melts to her knees in front of the Prodigal Daughter, London having landed and remained on her feet.
The Brit grabs a tousle of auburn locks with her left hand and balls her right, looking at the crowd for some advice. The FAWNatics don’t miss their cue, begging for Shea to get all punchy on the cowgirl. London doesn’t disappoint, wailing away with a series of overhand rights to Jenkins’ forehead until Beth eyes are glassy and she remains halfway upright only by the grace of the Englishwoman.
Back in the ring, Carpenter is using his ‘slow count’ to keep the match from being called and an appreciative London responds by ‘helping’ the dazed Arizonan to her feet. Shea rushes her foe to the apron and heaves her in under the bottom rope, Beth rolling to the middle and pushing to her knees, where her swimming senses stop her from rising further.
Instead of climbing back in, London scales the nearest ring post from the outside, ending perched atop the buckles, waiting in an expectant crouch for the battered Jenkins to rise. Slowly, the freckled fighter does just that, blissfully unaware of the lurking legend. London leaps from the heights, folding her right leg, extending the knee, and forcefeeding it to the bridge of Beth’s nose.
Jenkins is sent rocketing to the deck, the back of her skull CRASHING against the thinly-sheathed plywood. Beth is left spread-eagled, another victim of an unquenchable London Run and the crowd roars as Shea passes on the pin and climbs the opposite set of buckles, turning and measuring Jenkins in a frame made of her thumbs and forefingers.
Having placed Beth just so, the Sensational One launches from her stage in a familiar ‘L’ shape, her lethal legs leading the way toward her iconic leg drop. With the end nigh for the rodeo queen, the Pale Rider manages to tap into a final reserve, resuscitating and rolling weakly to the side. It’s enough for the airborne London’s eyes to go wide as, instead of destroying what’s left of the redhead, she instead SPIKES her tailbone into the deck.
London’s hands immediately shoot to her backside as she hops around the ring on her cheeks, features twisted in anguish. Jenkins isn’t enjoying the sight as she’s having enough trouble simply pushing to hands and knees and bringing her circumstances back into focus.
Bareback struggles to her feet and wobbles to the ropes, grabbing them like a stumble buddy. She finds London still massaging her derriere but starting to rise and forces herself into action. The redhead staggers to the ascending London and grabs her from behind, wrapping her right arm around Shea’s throat in a backhand grip, drawing her foe into dragon sleeper position but deciding to take the direct route, laying out and THUMPING Shea’s cranium into the canvas with an Inverted DDT.
INVERTED DDT:
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=65svtOXmq-A )
With London left staring into the rafters, eyes cloudy, Beth scoops up her near foe’s near leg and rolls her into a tight cradle for the…
ONE…
TWO…
London kicks her way free, flopping to her side and drawing an audible sigh of relief from the sellout crowd.
Energized, the freckled fighter scrambles to her knees beside Shea and piefaces the back of London’s skull.
“Fact. You’re going to be ‘BJ’ branded,” Berth informs. “I don’t usually take scrawny sheep on my ranch, but for you I’ll make an exception.”
Bareback Beth latches onto a shoulder and wrist and hauls a rubbery London to her feet. The redhead bullies Shea into the ropes and rebounds, tossing her off with an Irish whip and following to the middle for her return. London sprints through the U-turn, seemingly out of control but when Jenkins throws a back fist at the legend’s chin, London’s able to duck under and continue her trip to the next set of strands. Rebounding once more, Shea looks ready to go on offense with this approach, only to be nearly beheaded by a Discus Clothesline from the cowgirl, Beth dropping the Sensational One like a hot rock.
Jenkins stands in a straddle over the waylaid London and mimes planting her ‘branding iron’ in the front of the Brit’s thigh.
“When you become the first member of my new herd, Bethany won’t be able to ignore me.”
Jenkins turns to the nearest lens.
“I ran the Bloodwinds off. I’m beating your chosen one down. You will pay attention!”
Bareback maneuvers the Manchester native to her knees, yanking the nearly deadweight there before surrounding Shea’s head in a front facelock and laying out, SPIKING London’s forehead into the mat with a Kneeling DDT.
KNEELING DDT:
( (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b8NDb2XuTIU )
Shea ends face down and twitching. A beaming Beth shovels London to her back. She places one palm on her foe’s chest the other on Shea’s crotch, arrogantly taking out the past and present face of FAWN with the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
The conceit by the redhead leaves a back door open and the Sensational One scoots through, shifting a shoulder a few inches off the deck to save herself. And the cowgirl is furious at London’s contempt, paintbrushing Shea’s cheek with a wicked slap that turns her foe’s head on a swivel, cheek flushing from the impact.
Beth tows what’s left of London off the deck, sliding behind her fabled foe. Again, she wraps a backhand grip around London’s neck, pulling her into a backward arch. But it seems clear this time Shea will be heading to Boot Hill with an elevated implant version of the inverted DDT that buried many Desert Divas on Beth’s recent rampage through the developmental.
BURIED AT BOOT HILL:
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=pAw8i0E_hkQ )
But as Beth launches the blonde, the veteran London add some extra ‘oomph’ behind the take off and Jenkins can’t control her foe. Shea tumbles over the cowgirl’s right shoulder, landing behind the redhead. Instinctively, the Brit takes off to the ropes behind her and charges the Pale Rider, leaping toward Beth for a hurricarana. But Jenkins catches Shea on her hip and juggles the captured Englishwoman onto her right shoulder. The redhead folds Shea’s arms behind her and sends London twisting to the deck with a vicious Sun Devil
SUN DEVIL:
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=4VXh8LII1T8 )
Already draped across the demolished London, Beth hooks a leg for insurance and gets the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Shea gets a shoulder up!
A frustrated Beth tosses the Sensational One’s gam aside. Swinging a leg of her own over London’s midriff to loom over the near senseless blonde in an ominous straddle. Burying her left hand in London’s dark lock, the redheaded rodeo queen tugs her foe’s head off the mat, and then simply begins unloading with barrage of brazen (and illegal) closed fists, earning herself a scolding from Al Carpenter but minimal protests from the British Bombshell, other than some twitching and soft, garbled groans.
Ending the onslaught at the count of four, Jenkins rises, pulling Shea up onto rubbery legs. Holding the seemingly helpless blonde out in front of her, the Pale Rider threads her right arm underneath London’s right, applying a half nelson. Having been denied a burial at Boot Hill, it appears Beth is ready to claim her victory with her rarely seen yet equally devastating Hog Tie Driver.
HOG TIE DRIVER:
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=jZSgm7Q6nzk&feature=youtu.be )
But before the redhead can grab Shea’s left arm, the FAWN Original shows some of her legendary resiliency by cocking that elbow and RAMMING the bony joint backward, catching Beth in the jaw with enough force to loosen—but not fully break—the half nelson. A second elbow, on the other hand, does the trick. And a third, the most forceful yet, sends both staggering away from each other in opposing directions.
Beth rights herself swiftly, turning with a snarl toward her opponent… but the Sensational One, seemingly all but dead just moments ago, is crouched and ready, launching a superkick that SMASHES into Jenkins’ jaw from underneath. The Pale Rider is rocked back on her heels, yet in an impressive show of determination, she remains on suddenly rubbery legs. Though while she might be upright, the drunken semicircle she stumbles in that brings her back into the Sensational One’s orbit indicates that she is nevertheless not all there.
Smelling blood, London doesn’t hesitate. Grabbing Beth by the wrist, Shea sets her feet and attempts what initially looks to be an ordinary Irish whip. Of course, when she abruptly starts to reel the cowgirl back in towards her, the British Bombshell’s true intentions become clear. And after she grabs a double handhold on Jenkins’ skull and pulls her foe’s noggin over her shoulder, London kicks up her legs and lays out, launching the FAWNatics into a standing ovation for her London Calling!
LONDON CALLING:
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=6NCPRcQVtKE&feature=youtu.be&t=347 )
The Sensational One turns and throws herself atop the Pale Rider, gathering up and hooking both legs, just to be on the safe side. And the crowd counts along, their collective voice thundering throughout the FAWN Arena as Carpenter slaps off the…
“ONE…
TWO…
THREE!!!!!”
Shea discards Beth’s gams as the bell sounds, the exhausted blonde continuing to recline against the beaten rodeo queen’s torso. The wins… well, they had NEVER “come easy” for the living legend—that was part of what had made her the icon that she was. But there was no denying that they came easier fifteen years ago or so than they do today. They didn’t leave her as tired as she had felt after beating Kathryn, after beating Lydia, and now after beating Beth. London allows herself the luxury of catching her breath, while the ring announcer makes it official.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he proclaims, “your winner, via pinfall… SHHHEEEAAA LOOONNNDDDOOONNN!!!!!”
Al Carpenter offers the victorious blonde a helping hand back to her feet, which she readily accepts, the referee raising her hand in triumph. When Al lets go of her wrist, London’s stems briefly buckle, sending her stumbling forward. Thankfully, the ropes are there to catch her, and Shea leans against the cables for a few more seconds’ worth of rejuvenation. Finally, she pushes away from the cables, turning back toward the center of the ri…
“OOOOOOOPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!”
“Bareback” Beth had recovered a little quicker in defeat than Shea had in victory, and she catches the turning Briton with a boot that plows into her stomach juuust below the belly button, folding London in half. Jenkins is on her in an instant, pulling the blonde’s head under her arm and intercepting Shea’s left arm on its way to hug her gulping tummy by snatching a wrist. The redhead then pivots and takes both herself and the Sensational One down to the canvas with a crisp and brutal swinging neckbreaker.
SWINGING NECKBREAKER:
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=eEEISEWzfWg )
“C’MON, BETH,” Al attempts to scold her, “MATCH IS OVVVUUUUGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Clearly having had her fill of the official during the match, the Pale Rider cuts him off with a kick as well, though her boot to Carpenter lands considerably lower than the one that had hit Shea, dropping the zebra into a fetal ball on the mat. With that annoying horsefly taken out of commission, Beth turns back to Shea, who is struggling to make it back to all fours. Jenkins gives her a hand by pulling her up, before spinning the Sensational One away from her and lacing her arm across London’s throat. With a handful of spandex at the Brit’s hip, Beth grunts and heaves the glistening blonde off her feet, before falling back and SPIKING Shea on her cranium, the Sensational One at last Buried at Boot Hill.
BURIED AT BOOT HILL:
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=pAw8i0E_hkQ )
Had this been part of the match, Carpenter likely could have counted to a thousand, judging by the spasming lump of jellied flesh that Shea London had been rendered. But that was no longer a concern, and anyway, Al currently is no more capable of administering a count than London is of kicking out. Satisfied that she can proceed without any further interruptions, the Pale Rider drops to the mat and rolls under the bottom rope.
Alas, any thought that she might be done is eliminated when the redhead casually saunters over to the timekeeper’s table, retrieving both her lasso and, most distressingly of all, her branding gun. Returning to the ring, Jenkins leaves her ‘iron’ in the corner before making her way over to the splattered Sensational One, Beth dropping to her knees and pulling the British blonde up to a seated position. Allowing London’s weight to sink back against her, Beth reaches over the older woman’s shoulder, pulling Shea’s knees up toward her chest before crossing London’s ankles. Demonstrating just how good she was at her former profession, Bareback gets those ankles bound in no time flat, then pushes down on Shea’s knees, forcing the Brit into something akin to sitting Indian style. Beth then pushes London’s limp arms in front of her, the Sensational One’s hands conveniently spilling into the keyhole between her thighs. A moment later, and Jenkins has those wrists not only similarly bound, but also secured underneath and against London’s ankles.
Her ropework done, the Pale Rider wraps her arms around London’s waist, and with a soft grunt muscles the blonde up, just enough to place her on her knees and chest—and with Shea’s delightful derriere raised toward the rafters, exposed and utterly defenseless. As some lustful cheers from the heel marks in the crowd begin to intermix with the boos, Beth stokes the flames on both sides by putting a taunting swish in her hips as she moves to retrieve her branding gun. Circling toward London’s feet, she couldn’t help but smirk at the soft, almost pathetic murmurs the blonde was beginning to offer as her consciousness started to return.
This bit was always more satisfying when they were awake enough to KNOW what was happening. And yet…
Something wasn’t right.
Even if every single black hat in Section 1408 was screaming his ass off in approval, the cheers for what was about to happen shouldn’t be THIS loud. Lowering the branding iron, Beth turns, just in time to see…
HONEY HARRIS:
… Honey Harris springing to her feet, having slid under the bottom rope. More annoyed than distressed, Jenkins tosses away her branding gun, raises her arm and charges forward, hoping to catch the interloper with a wicked running clothesline. But the youngster is ready, ducking under that arm and sprinting into the opposite ropes. The Pale Rider turns and quickly reacquires her target, but even as she’s figuring out how next to proceed, the British blonde is flying toward her, Honey’s legs scissoring Beth’s waist as she looks down at the mat. Pushing up from the canvas, Honey turns her body, swiftly wrapping an arm around Beth’s neck before throwing her weight into the full reverse, connecting with a savage Wheelbarrow DDT!
WHEELBARROW DDT:
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=YUyps-UFFv8 )
The stunned redhead rolls under the bottom rope, only just barely getting her feet under her as she drops to the floor. All things being equal, there would be no doubt in Beth’s mind that she could take this British brat. But all things AREN’T equal. She had just fought a grueling match with Shea, while Honey was probably backstage jerking off Oberon. Stumbling back up the ramp in reverse, Jenkins shouts after the blonde, “YOU JUST MADE THE BIGGEST MISTAKE OF YOUR LIFE, BUCKO!”
“Not as big a mistake as wearing a thong with that flat of a backpack,” Harris claps back, standing at the ropes. “But you’re welcome to do something about it. Of course, we know most of you Naught Dotties are more bark than bite.”
Beth takes one step back toward the ring, before she thinks better of it. Dismissing the smug blonde with a scowl and a wave of her hand, the Pale Rider turns and stalks back up the ramp, not only deprived her victory but also her prize. Feeling more than a little pleased with herself, Honey turns away from the ropes… and freezes.
Because that’s when it hits her.
She had just saved Shea London.
She was standing in the same ring as Shea London.
Taking absolutely nothing away from the Sammie Sinclair’s of the world, to British girls of Honey’s generation, Shea London was women’s wrestling. Certainly British women’s wrestling. And she, Honey Blossom Harris, had just saved “Sensational” Shea London from a massive indignity…
It was about as surreal a set of circumstances as Honey can imagine, an atmosphere that is only slightly punctured by the following words.
“Uhhhh… little help?”
“OH!!!” the younger blonde blushed, dropping to her knees to set about untying her idol. And she continues to apologize profusely, even as she undoes each knot.
“It’s okay….” Shea assures her, Honey pushing up to her feet before reaching down to pull London up as well. “Thanks, ‘Oney…”
“Uhhhhhh…” Harris stammers. “It’s… uhhh… I mean… No need to be formal, you can call me Honey!”
The Sensational One shakes her head with a bemused grin, but doesn’t correct the younger Briton in any way. Instead, she offers Harris her hand… and Honey takes it, not only shaking hands with a legend, but pulling London into a warm embrace. An embrace encompassing FAWN’s past, its present… and possibly its future?