Post by dsb on Oct 22, 2019 5:13:46 GMT
Much to the vocal displeasure of the FAWNAMANIA crowd, the evening’s events are interrupted by an unscheduled visit from Central Florida’s most despised sorority. Allison Addison and Piper Sexton march down the entrance ramp, redhead and brunette each wearing a Phi Theta Tappa hoodie over their ring gear. A step and a half behind them is FAWN’s junior referee Merle, grumbling and grousing as the pair of wrestlers drag him along by the arms.
ALLISON ADDISON
PIPER SEXTON
“Why do I always get roped into your shenanigans?” he mutters under his breath.
“Oh, I don’t know, asshole…” Piper huffs, “...why do you eat another man’s semen out of your blow-up doll every night?”
“W-What?! I don’t --”
“’CAUSE YOU’RE A SPINELESS CUCK!” Allison cackles at the official before engaging her sorority sister in a fist bump.
As they rudely shove him up the steps and into the ring, Merle wonders if it’s too late for him to go to dental school like his Aunt Bettie had always wanted. Meanwhile, Allison had procured a microphone before she enters the ring and addresses the FAWNatics.
“Guess who’s back, incels?!” Addison greets the fans with mock cheer, earning herself a round of scornful boos. “Oh, go cry into your body pillows, you fat, neckbeard virgins!”
Sexton takes the microphone from the redhead.
“Don’t mind them, Allie. These sperglords have their jimmies all rustled ‘cause their dear sweet Honey Harris just got her ass kicked. AGAIN.”
Piper is predictably met with another wave of jeers, louder and more virulent before, though she dismisses the fans by brushing some imaginary dust off her shoulders before she hands the microphone back to Allison.
“As satisfying as it was watching that tea-sipping special needs reject get her shit pushed in, we’re not here to talk about some uggo virgin who had two ribs removed so she could suck her own dick,” Addison says to thermonuclear heat from the fans. “No, this is about us. This is about US and the RESPECT we deserve!”
Right on cue, Sexton reaches into her pocket and produces a crumpled piece of paper as her sister-in-arms proclaims, “We found THIS in our locker! Some libtard SJW has insulted FAWN’s ass-kicking-est sorority, and we demand satisfaction!”
Piper hands the note to Merle, and gruffly demands that he reads the contents out loud. His curiosity getting the best of him, the official quickly scans the paper, and then his face turns ghastly pale.
“Oh no,” he murmurs. “Oh, no, no, no, no. Leave, NOW. You girls are in grave danger if you don’t --”
“DO AS YOU’RE TOLD, SOY-BOY!” Sexton screeches at the referee.
Cowed into compliance, Merle gives a heavy sigh and reads, “‘You stupid bitches. Don’t deserve a real haiku. Refrigerator.’”
“That’s where you’re wrong, libtard!” Allison scoffs. “Phi Theta Tappa deserves the best haikus! Pipes, show’em what we mean and drop some sick bars!”
Piper takes control of the microphone and dramatically clears her throat, then she says, “‘There once was a man from Nantucket, whose--’”
“Uhh, that’s actually a limerick, not a haiku,” Merle chimes in, earning himself a couple of death-glares from the sorority sisters. “You see, the first line of a haiku has only five syllables, so something along the lines of--”
“PREPARE FOR TROUBLE!”
Every head in the building turns towards the source of the interruption, and a collective OOOH ripples through the stands when they see Yoona Park standing at the top of the entranceway with microphone in hand. A baggy white t-shirt with a red, hand-drawn ‘R’ covers her down to mid-thigh, but her customary gauntlets and legsleeves visible on her forearms and shins make it clear that Yoona is dressed for combat.
YOONA PARK
Both sisters of Phi Theta Tappa immediately tense up, knowing their past encounters with the Slim Reaper have gone very, very poorly. Piper takes half a step back, but Allison grabs her by the elbow and preempts a preemptive retreat.
“S’okay, Pipes,” Addison reassures. “There’s two of us and only one of--”
“MAKE IT DOUBLE!”
Rather than an OOOH, the second interruption is met with absolute silence, save for perhaps the sound of tens of thousands of lungs sucking the oxygen from the building.
The prenatural stillness persists for a second.
And then another.
And then another.
And then, an explosion.
The air returns to the arena with hurricane-force, powered by each and every person in the stands screaming at the top of their lungs. Driven not by joy but by something so raw and so primal that it defies description, the FAWNatics unleash nearly two years worth of pent-up emotions in a single exhale, creating a sonic pressure wave so overwhelming that it’s felt on the skin rather than heard in the ears.
And at the epicenter of it all, wearing an identical ‘R’-emblazoned t-shirt to match her girlfriend, stands Camille Cosworth, the Girl of Tomorrow once more.
CAMILLE COSWORTH
Instead of her wrestling shoes, Camille’s feet are mostly bare as she wears legsleeves similar to Yoona’s, only colored royal blue and electric green rather than black and gold. Unlike Park, she goes without gauntlets or gloves and whatever other sartorial changes Cosworth may have made are covered by her shirt, but just the fact that she’s not wearing street clothes is good enough for the fans and they urge her onwards and upwards with as rousing an ovation as any ever heard in the FAWN Arena. The booming cacophony from a moment ago crystallizes into words, losing neither volume nor passion in the process.
YOU ARE AWE-SOME!
YOU ARE AWE-SOME!
YOU ARE AWE-SOME!
For her part, however, Camille appears frozen, a tingle in her spine and a swarm of butterflies in her stomach. Her gaze wildly darts about, taking in the sights that had once been so familiar, and she compulsively chews on her bottom lip to keep it from quivering.
“Don’t cry... Don’t cry... Don’t cry... Don’t cry…” Cosworth quietly murmurs to herself even as her eyes brim with tears.
YOU ARE AWE-SOME!
YOU ARE AWE-SOME!
YOU ARE AWE-SOME!
“Don’t cry... Don’t cry... Don’t cry... Don’t cry…”
YOU ARE AWE-SOME!
YOU ARE AWE-SOME!
YOU ARE AWE-SOME!
“Don’t cry... Don’t cry... Don’t cry... Don’t cry…”
Sensing that the moment was perhaps getting a bit too big for Camille, Yoona reaches out and gently places a hand on Cosworth’s shoulder. The touch startles her into a jolt, bringing Camille out of her reverie.
“Babe…” Park says, her expression soft and sympathetic. “...you good?”
“Yeah…” Cosworth whispers in response, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand before turning to her girlfriend and flashing a sheepish grin. “Never better.”
Whatever concerns she had alleviated, Yoona turns back towards the ring, raises her microphone to her lips, and shouts, “TO PROTECT THE WORLD FROM DEVASTATION!”
Incredibly... impossibly... the crowd gets even louder.
“TO UNITE ALL PEOPLE WITHIN OUR NATION!” Camille shouts in response.
Again the volume raises, every last person in attendance coming together within the swelling borders of Tomorrow-Morrow Land.
“TO DENOUNCE THE EVILS OF TRUTH AND --”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa… wait a second,” Cosworth cuts in. “That sounds really bad. What kind of message are we sending here?”
And suddenly, the crowd deflates back to a confused, awkward silence.
“Jesus Titty-fucking Christ, Cam!” Yoona huffs indignantly. “We’re not sending any kind of message, that’s just how the next line goes! You knew that already!”
“Yeah, I know, but it’s just so much worse when you say it out loud,” Camille protests. “I mean, what are the kids gonna think?”
“W-what the shit?” Park stammers. “Babe, there’s like a seven hundred percent chance that I’m going to literally fuck a bitch on live TV in the next five minutes. Any kids who are watching are going to have far bigger issues than--”
“I’m just not comfortable publicly denouncing ‘truth’ and ‘love’ as evil. This sort of thing comes back to haunt you years later on social media,” Cosworth insists. “Why didn’t we do something nice and wholesome like the Fusion dance?”
Clearly exasperated, Yoona groans, “For the last time, that only works with two, and Kanako would flip her shit if we--”
“MEOWTH! THAT’S RIGHT!”
The third member of the ‘team’ bursts onto the scene in the form of Kanako Akiyama. In addition to the matching t-shirt, Kanako wears a hairband adorned with what looks to be cat ears along with mittens and slippers shaped like cat paws. Having been absent with injury for a long time herself, the Modern Day Ronin briefly sparks the crowd to life before confusion settles in once more.
KANAKO AKIYAMA
“What? What’s going on?” Akiyama asks as she looks back and forth between Park and Cosworth. “I heard my name. Did I miss my cue?”
“This fucking asshole just ruined our big entrance,” Yoona scoffs as she jerks a thumb towards her girlfriend.
“Whatever, guys!” Camille retorts, defiantly crossing her arms in front of her chest. “I’m not about to abandon my morals for a cheap pop.”
“You’re already going to Hell for sodomy, Cam! What more could it hurt to--”
“Guys, can I leave now?” Kanako says. “Not too thrilled about being dressed like a catgirl in public. This sort of thing comes back to haunt you years later on social media.”
“That’s what I said!” Cosworth enthusiastically affirms. “Two to one! In your FACE, Yoona!”
Park opens her mouth to snap back, but Akiyama interrupts her with an upraised hand and says, “We need to talk after you’re done here.”
“We will,” Yoona assures with a slight nod, then Kanako raises up on her toes and gives a couple of ‘good luck’ pecks on the cheek to each of her friends before slipping backstage through the curtains.
“Sooooooooooooo… uhhhhhhhh...” Camille hems and haws when the fans remain perplexed and quiet. “...this is awkward. Got any ideas to fire up the crowd again?”
With a derisive snort and a roll of her eyes, Park raises the microphone to her lips and shouts, “KYLIE SANDERS SUCKS!”
“YOU LEAVE KYLIE ALONE!” a lone voice wails in protest, but it’s immediately drowned out by an eruption of cheers from everyone else.
KY-LIE SUCKS!
KY-LIE SUCKS!
KY-LIE SUCKS!
Camille can’t help but giggle, equal parts amused and amazed that her girlfriend always seemed to know what to say to get a reaction. Hand-in-hand, the lovers march towards the ring with their eyes locked on their Phi Theta Tappa counterparts the whole way. When they’re about three strides away from the ring, however, Merle climbs down to the floor and intercepts them at the bottom of the ramp. With someone from the C-suite screaming at him through his earpiece, the referee frowns and shakes his head as he tries to block the pair of wrestlers from advancing further.
“I’m sorry, Camille, but you aren’t medically cleared,” the referee says, sounding genuinely apologetic. “It’d be an insurance and liability nightmare if we let you--”
“Listen dude…” Yoona sighs, “...if you don’t get out of my way, in about five seconds I’mma kick you in the balls so hard you’re gonna be like, ‘Damn, Yoona, your catfight-themed cryptocurrency is pure genius and I should’ve bought in before the price of BITCHcoin quadrupled, and I wish you didn’t just--’”
“I’m sorry, I really am,” the man repeats, not-so-subtly moving his hands to cover his groin. “If it were up to me--”
“Merle, please,” Camille says softly, so softly that it’s barely audible, and Merle feels a lump forming in his throat.
“Please, it’s Mania…”
Torn between the desperate, pleading look on Cosworth’s face and the angry, screeching voice in his earpiece, Merle spins about looking for help from someone, anyone. The crowd is clearly on Camille’s side, chanting, “LET THEM FIGHT! LET THEM FIGHT!” but still, FAWN’s junior referee is not swayed.
Next, his eyes fall upon the sisters of Phi Theta Tappa.
“DON’T LOOK AT US, INCEL!” Allison screams at him. “QUIT BEING A WEAK-DICK BETA MALE AND ENFORCE YOUR AUTHORITY!”
“SHE’S BREAKING THE RULES!” Piper concurs. “LOCK HER UP! LOCK HER UP!”
And suddenly, Merle’s decision is made.
“Oh no, a sudden and unforeseen equipment malfunction has cut off lines of communication with the executive office,” he flatly proclaims as he removes his earpiece and shoves it deep in his pocket. “I must now rely solely upon my discretion and instincts to maintain order for the next five to ten minutes.”
With that, he turns to the timekeeper and signals for the opening bell, and all at once, there’s a flurry of activity.
The FAWNatics scream their collective heads off, while the sisters of Phi Theta Tappa whine and whinge in the way that only they can. Out on the floor, Camille is so overjoyed that she feels her heart might burst, and at a total loss for words, she simply jumps into Merle’s arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and her hands around his shoulders.
“SOCIAL MEDIA,” Park grunts with a conspicuous cough, and that’s enough to return Cosworth to her senses.
Camille dismounts with a quickly muttered apology, blushing heavily and avoiding eye contact with Merle. Fortunately, the official maintains just a bit more professional decorum and he gently nudges her in the direction of the ring.
“Security’s probably on its way already, so make it quick,” he advises under his breath.
The Girl of Tomorrow gets the hint and springs into action, taking a running start before leaping into the ring and facing off against both members of Orlando’s most hated sorority. A couple of steps behind, the official enters in less impressive fashion by rolling underneath the bottom rope. The Slim Reaper, however, remains out on the floor with her back towards her putative opponents and facing the entrance ramp.
“Go do your Superman shit, Cam,” Yoona calls over her shoulder. “I’ll take care of security.”
Cosworth is about to protest, but right on cue, a half dozen men in black shirts stomp through the curtains and begin making their way towards the ring. They come to a stop a couple of yards away from Park, and the team leader steps forward to deliver an ultimatum, though it’s Yoona who speaks first.
“Bruh, this ain’t gonna end the way you think,” she chortles. “I’m the goddamn Reaper, and you don’t even have a name.”
The man holds up the ID badge attached to the end of his lanyard and states, “Miss, I have a name and -- NNNNGGGHH...”
That’s as far as he gets before Yoona steps forward and fires a precisely aimed Snap Kick that splits his thighs and pulverizes his gonads.
“FUCK YOU, THAT’S A CUNT NAME!” she shouts at the man as he curls into a fetal ball on the ground.
“No… why…? I was only three decades from retirement…” the guard wheezes. “...I should’ve bought more BITCHcoin...”
Upon seeing their colleague’s fate, the rest of the security team takes a step back, no one wanting to be the next target of the Slim Reaper’s ire. In the ring, Camille shakes her head in disapproval at her girlfriend’s antics, though she knows to not divert her attention from either Piper or Allison. Her savviness pays off when Phi Theta Tappa realize the numbers game is in their advantage, and they rush past the referee to double team Cosworth.
“GET ’ER, PIPES!” Addison yells as she charges forward with a fist raised. “SHE’S AL--”
A woosh of air, a sickening pop, and a roar from the crowd interrupt her mid-sentence. The Mean Girl skids to a stop, and it takes her a moment to realize that the woman who had just been in front of her eyes has now vanished.
“Oh no, Allie…” her sorority sister groans from behind her. “...she’s got that retard strength...”
Addison spins on her heels and sees Sexton crumpled on the mat and struggling to get up, gutted by a Spear so vicious and so quick that it could only be fully appreciated on slow-motion replay. Still nowhere to be seen, however, is the Girl of Tomorrow.
“L-L-Look out, she’s…” Piper warns and Allison swivels her head around immediately, but it’s already too late.
The redhead turns around just as Camille leaps off the top rope into a high-arcing front somersault. Addison starts to shout an expletive, though her words are immediately muffled by a faceful of crotch when Cosworth lands in a seat across her shoulders. The Mean Girl flails about in a blind panic for a couple of seconds, then Camille squeezes her thighs shut and throws herself backwards to launch Allison across the ring with a Springboard Dragonrana.
SPRINGBOARD DRAGONRANA:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=prQ7mmLjlWs
Fortunately for the redhead and unfortunately for the blonde, Sexton is there to break Addison’s fall after a short flight with a rough landing. The sorority sisters end up in a discombobulated tangle of limbs, though Piper had clearly taken the brunt of the impact. Allison clambers to her feet and roughly drags Piper upright as well, then she gives the Las Vegas native a couple of stinging slaps to the cheeks to rouse Sexton from her stupor.
“Get with it, Pipes!” Addison demands. “We are NOT getting blown out by some emotional lesb -- AARRRGGHH!”
In focusing on her comrade, Allison had taken her eyes off of her opponent, an unwise decision against anyone but an especially egregious error against a wrestler as dynamic as the Girl of Tomorrow. Approaching from behind and sliding one arm between the redhead’s legs, Camille scoops the other woman onto her shoulder and twirls away from the safety of the ropes. Standing in the center of the ring after a pirouette, Cosworth drops to a seat while she heaves her burden off her shoulder, slamming Addison to the deck with a picture-perfect Blue Thunder Bomb.
BLUE THUNDER BOMB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pc3yIaA7u2w
Watching her partner get flattened triggers Piper’s well-honed instincts of self-preservation, and she immediately turns tail, slides out of the ring, and starts staggering towards the entrance ramp. Once she gets there, however, she sees that the way is blocked by a mass of humanity as Yoona Park continues to brawl with the remnants of the security team. Rather than take her chances at slipping by the pandemonium, Sexton does an about-face and heads for the nearest barricade, hoping to escape through the crowd.
She didn’t count on Camille being hot on her heels though, and as soon as she pivots, she’s met with the acrobatic brunette hurtling through the air and coming at her headfirst. Deciding to literally cut a corner, Cosworth leaps from the floor, sails clear over the bottom turnbuckle, and directly into Sexton. Camille catches Piper’s head in a Front Facelock precisely at the moment of impact, then her excess inertia spins them in a half circle before they topple over, Cosworth landing flat on her back and driving Sexton’s skull into the thinly-padded ground with a Suicide Dive DDT.
SUICIDE DIVE DDT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=oGMxADQ8EF0
Fueled by the adrenaline coursing through her veins and the FAWNatics buzzing at redline, Camille kips to her feet hardly a second later. She grabs an insensate Piper by an arm and stuffs the blonde back into the ring, then re-enters herself just as Allison is gaining a second wind after the Blue Thunder Bomb. Evidently possessed of greater villainous valor than her blonde counterpart, Addison insists upon fighting further rather than beating a hasty retreat.
The Mean Girl lunges forward with her ruby-tipped claws extended, seeking to even the odds by gashing her opponent across the eyes. Allison’s swing is wild and telegraphed, however, and Cosworth gracefully dodges underneath while hooking an arm across the redhead’s chest. A look of shock flashes across Addison’s features, and a moment later, she’s hurtling through the air once more as Camille launches into a standing backflip and takes her along for the ride.
MOONSAULT SIDE SLAM:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=c_-34SLZ308
Allison’s head gets driven straight into Piper’s gut at the end of the Moonsault Side Slam, leaving both members of Phi Theta Tappa in a piled in an ‘X’ in the center of the ring. Camille’s still riding a combat-high unlike any she’d ever known though, and she pops back to her feet in the blink of an eye. With one great stride she lopes to a corner, and with another she summits the top turnbuckle. Before the fans even have a chance to raise the phones and start recording, Cosworth launches into the ether, twisting 180 degrees along one axis then somersaulting 630 degrees along another in a nigh-impossible display of leaping ability and acrobatic acumen before she crashes onto the pair of sorority sisters.
CORKSCREW 630 SENTON:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=qopbyZIwHwM
Her ninety second burst of adrenaline finally expended at the conclusion of her Corkscrew 630 Senton, Camille reclines against the shattered remains of her opponents, gulping deep breaths of air and beckoning for the referee to bring things to a close. Merle figures that it doesn’t matter who’s the legal woman on the Phi Theta Tappa side of things given that Cosworth is technically pinning both of them, so he calmly gets down on the mat, and along with every fan in the building, counts out an entirely academic…
ONE
TWO
THREE
...before the audience unleashes a final, extended exultation so loud that it overpowers both the timekeeper’s bell and the ring announcer’s proclamation that -- for the first time since the waning days of 2017 -- Camille Cosworth had found her way into the winner’s circle.
For her part, Camille just reclines on the bodies of her erstwhile foes and basks in the glory, the amid the raucous cheers she picks out her girlfriend cheerfully shouting, “LOOKS LIKE TEAM ROCKET’S BLASTING OFF AGAIN!”
Cosworth cranes her head around and sees Yoona dogpiled underneath the last two remaining members of the security force, the pair of men not daring to let Slim Reaper up lest they end up strewn about in unconscious heaps like the rest of their team. Park doesn’t look particularly distressed being buried underneath four hundred pounds of man-flesh, and she even flashes a jaunty double thumbs up which sends Camille into a fit of giggles.
The FAWNatics would not let their heroine rest for long though, especially not when she’d been absent for ages, and soon they’re demanding, “SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH!”
Less adept at public speaking than her paramour, Camille tries to wave them off, and yet that only makes the audience more insistent.
SPEECH!
SPEECH!
SPEECH!
SPEECH!
Soon, Yoona joins in with the fans, and not long after that, even the two guards holding her down get caught up in the moment and start chanting along. When Merle procures a microphone from the table and holds it out to her, Cosworth can deny the crowd no longer and she takes the stick after allowing the referee to help her to her feet.
“Uhhh… wow… wwooooooowww…” Camille says, nervously scratching her head. “I… I don’t know what to say guys… I guess… I’m back?”
Hearing the words out loud from her own mouth triggers a flood of emotions, and almost absentmindedly, she adds, “Holy shit, I’m back...”
Hearing the usually G-rated Cosworth use any kind of profanity brings profound delight and amusement to the FAWNatics, and when the Girl of Tomorrow gestures for them to simmer down on their hooting and hollering, they do the opposite and take it up a notch.
CAMMY SAID A BAAAAAAAAAAD WORD!
CAMMY SAID A BAAAAAAAAAAD WORD!
CAMMY SAID A BAAAAAAAAAAD WORD!
CAMMY SAID A BAAAAAAAAAAD WORD!
“Oh, come on, guys! Stop it!” Camille wheedles, her ears suddenly feeling very, very hot with the entire building gently chiding her.
CAMMY SAID A BAAAAAAAAAAD WORD!
CAMMY SAID A BAAAAAAAAAAD WORD!
CAMMY SAID A BAAAAAAAAAAD WORD!
CAMMY SAID A BAAAAAAAAAAD WORD!
“I did not! You all misheard!” she insists as she props her fists on her hips in mock petulance.
CAMMY SAID A BAAAAAAAAAAD WORD!
CAMMY SAID A BAAAAAAAAAAD WORD!
CAMMY SAID A BAAAAAAAAAAD WORD!
CAMMY SAID A BAAAAAAAAAAD WORD!
Thinking back to her entrance, Camille decides to try Yoona’s tactic for manipulating the fans’ chants and tentatively offers, “Umm… Kylie Sanders sucks?”
“NO! NOT YOU TOO!” an aggrieved, betrayed voice cries out, but the trick works like a charm and in an instant the audience has forgotten Cosworth’s vituperation, instead rhythmically calling out, “KY-LIE SUCKS! KY-LIE SUCKS! KY-LIE SUCKS!”
Camille knows she still owes her supporters in Tomorrow-Morrow Land some words though, and when she raises the microphone once more, a hush falls over the crowd.
“There’s so, so, sooooooooo much I want to say, so many feelings that I’ve bottled up inside me,” she begins. “I’m not gonna lie, guys. I’ve had some dark days these last couple of years. A lot of dark days, actually. Days when I wanted to wallow in my misery. Days when I wanted to give up on ever making it back. Days when I wanted to just… just… curl up and die…”
Camille trails off, lowering her gaze to her toes and pensively chewing on her lip, searching for the words and perhaps the courage to continue her speech. After several long, long seconds, each of them passing in reverent silence, she finally finds what she’s looking for.
“But I didn’t,” Cosworth says, her face and her voice and her posture becoming resolute and confident. “I didn’t, because I made a promise. A promise to ALL of you. A promise that when I fly, you fly with me. And in the darkest of the dark days, I realized that you all made a promise to me too...”
Camille throws the microphone aside and shouts at the top of her lungs, “BECAUSE WHEN I FLY, YOU FLY WITH ME! AND WHEN I FALL…”
The Girl of Tomorrow dashes forward, sprinting past a very surprised Merle and leaping over the still-unconscious bodies of Allison Addison and Piper Sexton. She leaps onto the center of the top rope, for a heartbeat perfectly balanced with the arches of her feet on that springy, rubber-coated steel, and then she launches once more. Granted even more velocity by the recoil of the cable, Camille cleanly sails over the narrow aisle, over the barricade, over the first, second, third, fourth, and fifth rows of the audience to OOHs and AHHs.
The FAWNatics expect her to land with a flourish, perhaps a somersault into a dramatic three-point landing, as is her wont. Instead she turns over during the apex of her flight, splayed out in midair like a starfish with arms and legs out wide and her face towards the ceiling. Still, her longtime fans know that this is merely the precursor to some acrobatic stunt, a double axel into a pike into a handspring into a spinaroonie, or something equally absurd and ridiculous.
Then gravity takes over, and she starts to drop, and those impressed murmurs quickly curdle into cries of concern.
Despite plummeting downwards at an ever-accelerating rate, Camille remains relaxed and motionless, laid out in a spreadeagle and making no effort to protect herself. She gets closer and closer and closer to a disastrous landing, and just when catastrophe seems inevitable, Tomorrow-Morrow Land springs into action. Rather than disperse, the fans directly underneath her surge together, bracing one against another against another against another and raising their hands to provide a cushion. A moment later, when her airtime is finally exhausted, Camille lands not upon the cold, unforgiving cement, but among the embrace of her most ardent supporters, earning a most epic ovation for completing a most epic Trust-Fall straight from the heavens.
“...YOU GOT ME.”
ALLISON ADDISON
PIPER SEXTON
“Why do I always get roped into your shenanigans?” he mutters under his breath.
“Oh, I don’t know, asshole…” Piper huffs, “...why do you eat another man’s semen out of your blow-up doll every night?”
“W-What?! I don’t --”
“’CAUSE YOU’RE A SPINELESS CUCK!” Allison cackles at the official before engaging her sorority sister in a fist bump.
As they rudely shove him up the steps and into the ring, Merle wonders if it’s too late for him to go to dental school like his Aunt Bettie had always wanted. Meanwhile, Allison had procured a microphone before she enters the ring and addresses the FAWNatics.
“Guess who’s back, incels?!” Addison greets the fans with mock cheer, earning herself a round of scornful boos. “Oh, go cry into your body pillows, you fat, neckbeard virgins!”
Sexton takes the microphone from the redhead.
“Don’t mind them, Allie. These sperglords have their jimmies all rustled ‘cause their dear sweet Honey Harris just got her ass kicked. AGAIN.”
Piper is predictably met with another wave of jeers, louder and more virulent before, though she dismisses the fans by brushing some imaginary dust off her shoulders before she hands the microphone back to Allison.
“As satisfying as it was watching that tea-sipping special needs reject get her shit pushed in, we’re not here to talk about some uggo virgin who had two ribs removed so she could suck her own dick,” Addison says to thermonuclear heat from the fans. “No, this is about us. This is about US and the RESPECT we deserve!”
Right on cue, Sexton reaches into her pocket and produces a crumpled piece of paper as her sister-in-arms proclaims, “We found THIS in our locker! Some libtard SJW has insulted FAWN’s ass-kicking-est sorority, and we demand satisfaction!”
Piper hands the note to Merle, and gruffly demands that he reads the contents out loud. His curiosity getting the best of him, the official quickly scans the paper, and then his face turns ghastly pale.
“Oh no,” he murmurs. “Oh, no, no, no, no. Leave, NOW. You girls are in grave danger if you don’t --”
“DO AS YOU’RE TOLD, SOY-BOY!” Sexton screeches at the referee.
Cowed into compliance, Merle gives a heavy sigh and reads, “‘You stupid bitches. Don’t deserve a real haiku. Refrigerator.’”
“That’s where you’re wrong, libtard!” Allison scoffs. “Phi Theta Tappa deserves the best haikus! Pipes, show’em what we mean and drop some sick bars!”
Piper takes control of the microphone and dramatically clears her throat, then she says, “‘There once was a man from Nantucket, whose--’”
“Uhh, that’s actually a limerick, not a haiku,” Merle chimes in, earning himself a couple of death-glares from the sorority sisters. “You see, the first line of a haiku has only five syllables, so something along the lines of--”
“PREPARE FOR TROUBLE!”
Every head in the building turns towards the source of the interruption, and a collective OOOH ripples through the stands when they see Yoona Park standing at the top of the entranceway with microphone in hand. A baggy white t-shirt with a red, hand-drawn ‘R’ covers her down to mid-thigh, but her customary gauntlets and legsleeves visible on her forearms and shins make it clear that Yoona is dressed for combat.
YOONA PARK
Both sisters of Phi Theta Tappa immediately tense up, knowing their past encounters with the Slim Reaper have gone very, very poorly. Piper takes half a step back, but Allison grabs her by the elbow and preempts a preemptive retreat.
“S’okay, Pipes,” Addison reassures. “There’s two of us and only one of--”
“MAKE IT DOUBLE!”
Rather than an OOOH, the second interruption is met with absolute silence, save for perhaps the sound of tens of thousands of lungs sucking the oxygen from the building.
The prenatural stillness persists for a second.
And then another.
And then another.
And then, an explosion.
The air returns to the arena with hurricane-force, powered by each and every person in the stands screaming at the top of their lungs. Driven not by joy but by something so raw and so primal that it defies description, the FAWNatics unleash nearly two years worth of pent-up emotions in a single exhale, creating a sonic pressure wave so overwhelming that it’s felt on the skin rather than heard in the ears.
And at the epicenter of it all, wearing an identical ‘R’-emblazoned t-shirt to match her girlfriend, stands Camille Cosworth, the Girl of Tomorrow once more.
CAMILLE COSWORTH
Instead of her wrestling shoes, Camille’s feet are mostly bare as she wears legsleeves similar to Yoona’s, only colored royal blue and electric green rather than black and gold. Unlike Park, she goes without gauntlets or gloves and whatever other sartorial changes Cosworth may have made are covered by her shirt, but just the fact that she’s not wearing street clothes is good enough for the fans and they urge her onwards and upwards with as rousing an ovation as any ever heard in the FAWN Arena. The booming cacophony from a moment ago crystallizes into words, losing neither volume nor passion in the process.
YOU ARE AWE-SOME!
YOU ARE AWE-SOME!
YOU ARE AWE-SOME!
For her part, however, Camille appears frozen, a tingle in her spine and a swarm of butterflies in her stomach. Her gaze wildly darts about, taking in the sights that had once been so familiar, and she compulsively chews on her bottom lip to keep it from quivering.
“Don’t cry... Don’t cry... Don’t cry... Don’t cry…” Cosworth quietly murmurs to herself even as her eyes brim with tears.
YOU ARE AWE-SOME!
YOU ARE AWE-SOME!
YOU ARE AWE-SOME!
“Don’t cry... Don’t cry... Don’t cry... Don’t cry…”
YOU ARE AWE-SOME!
YOU ARE AWE-SOME!
YOU ARE AWE-SOME!
“Don’t cry... Don’t cry... Don’t cry... Don’t cry…”
Sensing that the moment was perhaps getting a bit too big for Camille, Yoona reaches out and gently places a hand on Cosworth’s shoulder. The touch startles her into a jolt, bringing Camille out of her reverie.
“Babe…” Park says, her expression soft and sympathetic. “...you good?”
“Yeah…” Cosworth whispers in response, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand before turning to her girlfriend and flashing a sheepish grin. “Never better.”
Whatever concerns she had alleviated, Yoona turns back towards the ring, raises her microphone to her lips, and shouts, “TO PROTECT THE WORLD FROM DEVASTATION!”
Incredibly... impossibly... the crowd gets even louder.
“TO UNITE ALL PEOPLE WITHIN OUR NATION!” Camille shouts in response.
Again the volume raises, every last person in attendance coming together within the swelling borders of Tomorrow-Morrow Land.
“TO DENOUNCE THE EVILS OF TRUTH AND --”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa… wait a second,” Cosworth cuts in. “That sounds really bad. What kind of message are we sending here?”
And suddenly, the crowd deflates back to a confused, awkward silence.
“Jesus Titty-fucking Christ, Cam!” Yoona huffs indignantly. “We’re not sending any kind of message, that’s just how the next line goes! You knew that already!”
“Yeah, I know, but it’s just so much worse when you say it out loud,” Camille protests. “I mean, what are the kids gonna think?”
“W-what the shit?” Park stammers. “Babe, there’s like a seven hundred percent chance that I’m going to literally fuck a bitch on live TV in the next five minutes. Any kids who are watching are going to have far bigger issues than--”
“I’m just not comfortable publicly denouncing ‘truth’ and ‘love’ as evil. This sort of thing comes back to haunt you years later on social media,” Cosworth insists. “Why didn’t we do something nice and wholesome like the Fusion dance?”
Clearly exasperated, Yoona groans, “For the last time, that only works with two, and Kanako would flip her shit if we--”
“MEOWTH! THAT’S RIGHT!”
The third member of the ‘team’ bursts onto the scene in the form of Kanako Akiyama. In addition to the matching t-shirt, Kanako wears a hairband adorned with what looks to be cat ears along with mittens and slippers shaped like cat paws. Having been absent with injury for a long time herself, the Modern Day Ronin briefly sparks the crowd to life before confusion settles in once more.
KANAKO AKIYAMA
“What? What’s going on?” Akiyama asks as she looks back and forth between Park and Cosworth. “I heard my name. Did I miss my cue?”
“This fucking asshole just ruined our big entrance,” Yoona scoffs as she jerks a thumb towards her girlfriend.
“Whatever, guys!” Camille retorts, defiantly crossing her arms in front of her chest. “I’m not about to abandon my morals for a cheap pop.”
“You’re already going to Hell for sodomy, Cam! What more could it hurt to--”
“Guys, can I leave now?” Kanako says. “Not too thrilled about being dressed like a catgirl in public. This sort of thing comes back to haunt you years later on social media.”
“That’s what I said!” Cosworth enthusiastically affirms. “Two to one! In your FACE, Yoona!”
Park opens her mouth to snap back, but Akiyama interrupts her with an upraised hand and says, “We need to talk after you’re done here.”
“We will,” Yoona assures with a slight nod, then Kanako raises up on her toes and gives a couple of ‘good luck’ pecks on the cheek to each of her friends before slipping backstage through the curtains.
“Sooooooooooooo… uhhhhhhhh...” Camille hems and haws when the fans remain perplexed and quiet. “...this is awkward. Got any ideas to fire up the crowd again?”
With a derisive snort and a roll of her eyes, Park raises the microphone to her lips and shouts, “KYLIE SANDERS SUCKS!”
“YOU LEAVE KYLIE ALONE!” a lone voice wails in protest, but it’s immediately drowned out by an eruption of cheers from everyone else.
KY-LIE SUCKS!
KY-LIE SUCKS!
KY-LIE SUCKS!
Camille can’t help but giggle, equal parts amused and amazed that her girlfriend always seemed to know what to say to get a reaction. Hand-in-hand, the lovers march towards the ring with their eyes locked on their Phi Theta Tappa counterparts the whole way. When they’re about three strides away from the ring, however, Merle climbs down to the floor and intercepts them at the bottom of the ramp. With someone from the C-suite screaming at him through his earpiece, the referee frowns and shakes his head as he tries to block the pair of wrestlers from advancing further.
“I’m sorry, Camille, but you aren’t medically cleared,” the referee says, sounding genuinely apologetic. “It’d be an insurance and liability nightmare if we let you--”
“Listen dude…” Yoona sighs, “...if you don’t get out of my way, in about five seconds I’mma kick you in the balls so hard you’re gonna be like, ‘Damn, Yoona, your catfight-themed cryptocurrency is pure genius and I should’ve bought in before the price of BITCHcoin quadrupled, and I wish you didn’t just--’”
“I’m sorry, I really am,” the man repeats, not-so-subtly moving his hands to cover his groin. “If it were up to me--”
“Merle, please,” Camille says softly, so softly that it’s barely audible, and Merle feels a lump forming in his throat.
“Please, it’s Mania…”
Torn between the desperate, pleading look on Cosworth’s face and the angry, screeching voice in his earpiece, Merle spins about looking for help from someone, anyone. The crowd is clearly on Camille’s side, chanting, “LET THEM FIGHT! LET THEM FIGHT!” but still, FAWN’s junior referee is not swayed.
Next, his eyes fall upon the sisters of Phi Theta Tappa.
“DON’T LOOK AT US, INCEL!” Allison screams at him. “QUIT BEING A WEAK-DICK BETA MALE AND ENFORCE YOUR AUTHORITY!”
“SHE’S BREAKING THE RULES!” Piper concurs. “LOCK HER UP! LOCK HER UP!”
And suddenly, Merle’s decision is made.
“Oh no, a sudden and unforeseen equipment malfunction has cut off lines of communication with the executive office,” he flatly proclaims as he removes his earpiece and shoves it deep in his pocket. “I must now rely solely upon my discretion and instincts to maintain order for the next five to ten minutes.”
With that, he turns to the timekeeper and signals for the opening bell, and all at once, there’s a flurry of activity.
The FAWNatics scream their collective heads off, while the sisters of Phi Theta Tappa whine and whinge in the way that only they can. Out on the floor, Camille is so overjoyed that she feels her heart might burst, and at a total loss for words, she simply jumps into Merle’s arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and her hands around his shoulders.
“SOCIAL MEDIA,” Park grunts with a conspicuous cough, and that’s enough to return Cosworth to her senses.
Camille dismounts with a quickly muttered apology, blushing heavily and avoiding eye contact with Merle. Fortunately, the official maintains just a bit more professional decorum and he gently nudges her in the direction of the ring.
“Security’s probably on its way already, so make it quick,” he advises under his breath.
The Girl of Tomorrow gets the hint and springs into action, taking a running start before leaping into the ring and facing off against both members of Orlando’s most hated sorority. A couple of steps behind, the official enters in less impressive fashion by rolling underneath the bottom rope. The Slim Reaper, however, remains out on the floor with her back towards her putative opponents and facing the entrance ramp.
“Go do your Superman shit, Cam,” Yoona calls over her shoulder. “I’ll take care of security.”
Cosworth is about to protest, but right on cue, a half dozen men in black shirts stomp through the curtains and begin making their way towards the ring. They come to a stop a couple of yards away from Park, and the team leader steps forward to deliver an ultimatum, though it’s Yoona who speaks first.
“Bruh, this ain’t gonna end the way you think,” she chortles. “I’m the goddamn Reaper, and you don’t even have a name.”
The man holds up the ID badge attached to the end of his lanyard and states, “Miss, I have a name and -- NNNNGGGHH...”
That’s as far as he gets before Yoona steps forward and fires a precisely aimed Snap Kick that splits his thighs and pulverizes his gonads.
“FUCK YOU, THAT’S A CUNT NAME!” she shouts at the man as he curls into a fetal ball on the ground.
“No… why…? I was only three decades from retirement…” the guard wheezes. “...I should’ve bought more BITCHcoin...”
Upon seeing their colleague’s fate, the rest of the security team takes a step back, no one wanting to be the next target of the Slim Reaper’s ire. In the ring, Camille shakes her head in disapproval at her girlfriend’s antics, though she knows to not divert her attention from either Piper or Allison. Her savviness pays off when Phi Theta Tappa realize the numbers game is in their advantage, and they rush past the referee to double team Cosworth.
“GET ’ER, PIPES!” Addison yells as she charges forward with a fist raised. “SHE’S AL--”
A woosh of air, a sickening pop, and a roar from the crowd interrupt her mid-sentence. The Mean Girl skids to a stop, and it takes her a moment to realize that the woman who had just been in front of her eyes has now vanished.
“Oh no, Allie…” her sorority sister groans from behind her. “...she’s got that retard strength...”
Addison spins on her heels and sees Sexton crumpled on the mat and struggling to get up, gutted by a Spear so vicious and so quick that it could only be fully appreciated on slow-motion replay. Still nowhere to be seen, however, is the Girl of Tomorrow.
“L-L-Look out, she’s…” Piper warns and Allison swivels her head around immediately, but it’s already too late.
The redhead turns around just as Camille leaps off the top rope into a high-arcing front somersault. Addison starts to shout an expletive, though her words are immediately muffled by a faceful of crotch when Cosworth lands in a seat across her shoulders. The Mean Girl flails about in a blind panic for a couple of seconds, then Camille squeezes her thighs shut and throws herself backwards to launch Allison across the ring with a Springboard Dragonrana.
SPRINGBOARD DRAGONRANA:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=prQ7mmLjlWs
Fortunately for the redhead and unfortunately for the blonde, Sexton is there to break Addison’s fall after a short flight with a rough landing. The sorority sisters end up in a discombobulated tangle of limbs, though Piper had clearly taken the brunt of the impact. Allison clambers to her feet and roughly drags Piper upright as well, then she gives the Las Vegas native a couple of stinging slaps to the cheeks to rouse Sexton from her stupor.
“Get with it, Pipes!” Addison demands. “We are NOT getting blown out by some emotional lesb -- AARRRGGHH!”
In focusing on her comrade, Allison had taken her eyes off of her opponent, an unwise decision against anyone but an especially egregious error against a wrestler as dynamic as the Girl of Tomorrow. Approaching from behind and sliding one arm between the redhead’s legs, Camille scoops the other woman onto her shoulder and twirls away from the safety of the ropes. Standing in the center of the ring after a pirouette, Cosworth drops to a seat while she heaves her burden off her shoulder, slamming Addison to the deck with a picture-perfect Blue Thunder Bomb.
BLUE THUNDER BOMB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pc3yIaA7u2w
Watching her partner get flattened triggers Piper’s well-honed instincts of self-preservation, and she immediately turns tail, slides out of the ring, and starts staggering towards the entrance ramp. Once she gets there, however, she sees that the way is blocked by a mass of humanity as Yoona Park continues to brawl with the remnants of the security team. Rather than take her chances at slipping by the pandemonium, Sexton does an about-face and heads for the nearest barricade, hoping to escape through the crowd.
She didn’t count on Camille being hot on her heels though, and as soon as she pivots, she’s met with the acrobatic brunette hurtling through the air and coming at her headfirst. Deciding to literally cut a corner, Cosworth leaps from the floor, sails clear over the bottom turnbuckle, and directly into Sexton. Camille catches Piper’s head in a Front Facelock precisely at the moment of impact, then her excess inertia spins them in a half circle before they topple over, Cosworth landing flat on her back and driving Sexton’s skull into the thinly-padded ground with a Suicide Dive DDT.
SUICIDE DIVE DDT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=oGMxADQ8EF0
Fueled by the adrenaline coursing through her veins and the FAWNatics buzzing at redline, Camille kips to her feet hardly a second later. She grabs an insensate Piper by an arm and stuffs the blonde back into the ring, then re-enters herself just as Allison is gaining a second wind after the Blue Thunder Bomb. Evidently possessed of greater villainous valor than her blonde counterpart, Addison insists upon fighting further rather than beating a hasty retreat.
The Mean Girl lunges forward with her ruby-tipped claws extended, seeking to even the odds by gashing her opponent across the eyes. Allison’s swing is wild and telegraphed, however, and Cosworth gracefully dodges underneath while hooking an arm across the redhead’s chest. A look of shock flashes across Addison’s features, and a moment later, she’s hurtling through the air once more as Camille launches into a standing backflip and takes her along for the ride.
MOONSAULT SIDE SLAM:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=c_-34SLZ308
Allison’s head gets driven straight into Piper’s gut at the end of the Moonsault Side Slam, leaving both members of Phi Theta Tappa in a piled in an ‘X’ in the center of the ring. Camille’s still riding a combat-high unlike any she’d ever known though, and she pops back to her feet in the blink of an eye. With one great stride she lopes to a corner, and with another she summits the top turnbuckle. Before the fans even have a chance to raise the phones and start recording, Cosworth launches into the ether, twisting 180 degrees along one axis then somersaulting 630 degrees along another in a nigh-impossible display of leaping ability and acrobatic acumen before she crashes onto the pair of sorority sisters.
CORKSCREW 630 SENTON:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=qopbyZIwHwM
Her ninety second burst of adrenaline finally expended at the conclusion of her Corkscrew 630 Senton, Camille reclines against the shattered remains of her opponents, gulping deep breaths of air and beckoning for the referee to bring things to a close. Merle figures that it doesn’t matter who’s the legal woman on the Phi Theta Tappa side of things given that Cosworth is technically pinning both of them, so he calmly gets down on the mat, and along with every fan in the building, counts out an entirely academic…
ONE
TWO
THREE
...before the audience unleashes a final, extended exultation so loud that it overpowers both the timekeeper’s bell and the ring announcer’s proclamation that -- for the first time since the waning days of 2017 -- Camille Cosworth had found her way into the winner’s circle.
For her part, Camille just reclines on the bodies of her erstwhile foes and basks in the glory, the amid the raucous cheers she picks out her girlfriend cheerfully shouting, “LOOKS LIKE TEAM ROCKET’S BLASTING OFF AGAIN!”
Cosworth cranes her head around and sees Yoona dogpiled underneath the last two remaining members of the security force, the pair of men not daring to let Slim Reaper up lest they end up strewn about in unconscious heaps like the rest of their team. Park doesn’t look particularly distressed being buried underneath four hundred pounds of man-flesh, and she even flashes a jaunty double thumbs up which sends Camille into a fit of giggles.
The FAWNatics would not let their heroine rest for long though, especially not when she’d been absent for ages, and soon they’re demanding, “SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH!”
Less adept at public speaking than her paramour, Camille tries to wave them off, and yet that only makes the audience more insistent.
SPEECH!
SPEECH!
SPEECH!
SPEECH!
Soon, Yoona joins in with the fans, and not long after that, even the two guards holding her down get caught up in the moment and start chanting along. When Merle procures a microphone from the table and holds it out to her, Cosworth can deny the crowd no longer and she takes the stick after allowing the referee to help her to her feet.
“Uhhh… wow… wwooooooowww…” Camille says, nervously scratching her head. “I… I don’t know what to say guys… I guess… I’m back?”
Hearing the words out loud from her own mouth triggers a flood of emotions, and almost absentmindedly, she adds, “Holy shit, I’m back...”
Hearing the usually G-rated Cosworth use any kind of profanity brings profound delight and amusement to the FAWNatics, and when the Girl of Tomorrow gestures for them to simmer down on their hooting and hollering, they do the opposite and take it up a notch.
CAMMY SAID A BAAAAAAAAAAD WORD!
CAMMY SAID A BAAAAAAAAAAD WORD!
CAMMY SAID A BAAAAAAAAAAD WORD!
CAMMY SAID A BAAAAAAAAAAD WORD!
“Oh, come on, guys! Stop it!” Camille wheedles, her ears suddenly feeling very, very hot with the entire building gently chiding her.
CAMMY SAID A BAAAAAAAAAAD WORD!
CAMMY SAID A BAAAAAAAAAAD WORD!
CAMMY SAID A BAAAAAAAAAAD WORD!
CAMMY SAID A BAAAAAAAAAAD WORD!
“I did not! You all misheard!” she insists as she props her fists on her hips in mock petulance.
CAMMY SAID A BAAAAAAAAAAD WORD!
CAMMY SAID A BAAAAAAAAAAD WORD!
CAMMY SAID A BAAAAAAAAAAD WORD!
CAMMY SAID A BAAAAAAAAAAD WORD!
Thinking back to her entrance, Camille decides to try Yoona’s tactic for manipulating the fans’ chants and tentatively offers, “Umm… Kylie Sanders sucks?”
“NO! NOT YOU TOO!” an aggrieved, betrayed voice cries out, but the trick works like a charm and in an instant the audience has forgotten Cosworth’s vituperation, instead rhythmically calling out, “KY-LIE SUCKS! KY-LIE SUCKS! KY-LIE SUCKS!”
Camille knows she still owes her supporters in Tomorrow-Morrow Land some words though, and when she raises the microphone once more, a hush falls over the crowd.
“There’s so, so, sooooooooo much I want to say, so many feelings that I’ve bottled up inside me,” she begins. “I’m not gonna lie, guys. I’ve had some dark days these last couple of years. A lot of dark days, actually. Days when I wanted to wallow in my misery. Days when I wanted to give up on ever making it back. Days when I wanted to just… just… curl up and die…”
Camille trails off, lowering her gaze to her toes and pensively chewing on her lip, searching for the words and perhaps the courage to continue her speech. After several long, long seconds, each of them passing in reverent silence, she finally finds what she’s looking for.
“But I didn’t,” Cosworth says, her face and her voice and her posture becoming resolute and confident. “I didn’t, because I made a promise. A promise to ALL of you. A promise that when I fly, you fly with me. And in the darkest of the dark days, I realized that you all made a promise to me too...”
Camille throws the microphone aside and shouts at the top of her lungs, “BECAUSE WHEN I FLY, YOU FLY WITH ME! AND WHEN I FALL…”
The Girl of Tomorrow dashes forward, sprinting past a very surprised Merle and leaping over the still-unconscious bodies of Allison Addison and Piper Sexton. She leaps onto the center of the top rope, for a heartbeat perfectly balanced with the arches of her feet on that springy, rubber-coated steel, and then she launches once more. Granted even more velocity by the recoil of the cable, Camille cleanly sails over the narrow aisle, over the barricade, over the first, second, third, fourth, and fifth rows of the audience to OOHs and AHHs.
The FAWNatics expect her to land with a flourish, perhaps a somersault into a dramatic three-point landing, as is her wont. Instead she turns over during the apex of her flight, splayed out in midair like a starfish with arms and legs out wide and her face towards the ceiling. Still, her longtime fans know that this is merely the precursor to some acrobatic stunt, a double axel into a pike into a handspring into a spinaroonie, or something equally absurd and ridiculous.
Then gravity takes over, and she starts to drop, and those impressed murmurs quickly curdle into cries of concern.
Despite plummeting downwards at an ever-accelerating rate, Camille remains relaxed and motionless, laid out in a spreadeagle and making no effort to protect herself. She gets closer and closer and closer to a disastrous landing, and just when catastrophe seems inevitable, Tomorrow-Morrow Land springs into action. Rather than disperse, the fans directly underneath her surge together, bracing one against another against another against another and raising their hands to provide a cushion. A moment later, when her airtime is finally exhausted, Camille lands not upon the cold, unforgiving cement, but among the embrace of her most ardent supporters, earning a most epic ovation for completing a most epic Trust-Fall straight from the heavens.
“...YOU GOT ME.”