Post by dsb on Nov 26, 2019 0:58:23 GMT
The ‘All Hallows Evil’ pay-per-view always brought about the strangest of bedfellows or, in this case, cell-fellows and the night’s Main Event pushes that truism to its limit.
There would be no grand entrances into the battleground for FAWN’s biggest prize and the usual fanfare both in support or against would not be available for the combatants to enjoy, despise or ignore.
The 4K closed circuit cameras beaming tonight’s ultimate fight to the basement and beyond showed the unceremonious opening of a door to a padded cell, walls and floor covered in white plastic-encased insulation, not thick, but enough to keep a crazed individual from immediately injuring themselves.
The crowd buzzes as The Ultimate Image of Human Perfection was prodded if not quite shoved into a facsimile of her quarters at Orlando General for well over a year, committed there by the less than good doctor Celia Blassenville.
Having emerged from that hell through the help of Sierra Mist and having passed through two different personalities, one of which led to the destruction of Mist, The Dream at long last, after exorcising the demon that was Olivia Dare, at least finally appeared herself.
LISA DREAM:
Returning to her skin-tight black leather instead of the crimson of ‘Red Lisa’, the barefoot Personification of Perfection nervously entered, dark eyes flashing around the enclosure. The energy in the challenger seemed nearly overloading her circuits. Despite her best contractual efforts to move the match to something approximating a ring, the attempts fell on the deaf ears of the Commissioner, Lisa Classic gulped through the less than ideal circumstances to slay another inner demon and claim FAWN’s most prestigious title.
The strategically placed streaks of red in her shoulder-length brunette locks were gone as were the half-dozen, red ‘tear streaks’ that previously led from the lower lid of Lisa’s eyes to mid-cheek. This was the legendary Lisa if even only in appearance.
The Dream’s attire was a sheath of black cowskin, her customary sleeveless vest, cut low, showing plenty of alabaster tummy, the pale skin contrasting sharply. Lisa’s long leather pants reached to uncovered feet, any Dreamophiles in the audience frustrated at having the flawless, pale stems hidden from view. A series of leather ‘strings’ cobweb across her back to keep the vest in place, though they also leave a considerable portion of her ivory back in view.
Dream moved away from the entrance as the disembodied voice of a Ring Announcer made the reason for her appearance in the rubber room official.
“Ladies and gentlemen the following contest is scheduled for one fall with no time limit and is for the FAWN World Championship! Introducing first, she is the challenger, hailing from New York City she stands at five feet six inches tall and weighs in tonight at one hundred and eighteen pounds, she is the Ultimate Image of Human Perfection… LISA DREAM!”
Lisa leaned from side to side, staying on the balls of her feet, waiting for the media’s newly ordained best ever in FAWN’s history.
They were clearly wrong.
No one could be better than perfect.
Lisa was still acclimatizing to the battlefield when the door opened a second time. The new arrival strode in with no prodding, though the set of her jaw and the quickness of her stride suggested she was no more pleased to be here than the challenger. Gothic trappings be damned, the Bankable Bombshell still sported her trademark dark blue two-piece with mellow golden trim and matching pads at knee and elbow, though she had foregone footwear, same as the challenger.
SUSANNAH BURLINGAME:
Unsnapping that ten pounds of leather and gold from around her waist, Susannah Burlingame raised it for the camera, then turned it toward Lisa. “See this, Dream?” the Rainmaker snapped. “At ‘Mania I defended it in the center of a wrestling ring in front of a sold out crowd against maybe the single strongest pillar this promotion’s ever known.” Burlingame paused, swept a hand around to indicate their current environs. “And now? Now I’m strolling into a padded cell in the dankest, remotest wing of this goddamned haunted house, the crowd is watching from a f*cking basement and I’m ‘defending’ against an escapee from a work-release program that didn’t know her own name six weeks ago. This bullshyt has Bethany’s stink on it, but you’re the headcase that made it all possible.”
Dream bared her teeth and took several aggressive steps toward the World Champion only to be stopped by Nick Castle. Swatting the zebra’s interposing hand aside without so much as a glance, the Resurgent Image of Human Perfection growled, “You think I wanted this, Wannadream? I deserve only grandest stage to reclaim that which is rightfully--”
“F*ck on outta here with that.” Burlingame barked. “Look around, babe. THIS is the only thing you rightly deserve. And tonight I’ll make sure you reclaim it with all the pomp and circumstance--”
The Rainmaker fell silent when Lisa juked past Castle to go nose to nose with the other brunette.
“I’m never going back here, Wannadream. NEVER. I’ll paint these walls with your blood, sweat and tears before I let them lock me away again.”
“Still, not enough.” Sue murmured. “Don’t worry though. I’ll put in a word with Lenore to make sure she gets you the nicest room ava-”
Lisa shoved the champ so Sue shoved her back and they would’ve come to blows then and there if Nick hadn’t intervened. “Back up. BACK UP, I said. Lisa, I want you over there. Sue, let me check your pads. Grudging silence both champion and challenger while the Senior Official and the Announcer ran through last second ablutions.
“And introducing her opponent, hailing from Stovington Vermont, she stands at five feet seven inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and thirty pounds! Representing the Black Court she is the three time FAWN World Champion! This is SUSANNAH BURLINGAME!”
Sue raised the belt as punctuation, then handed it to Castle who in turn passed it off to a FAWN tech waiting in the doorway. As soon as the tech stepped away the door swung shut and locked with an ominous ‘click’.
The speaker tucked away in the gloomiest corner of the Padded Cell voiced a polite little chime to inform champion and challenger that the time for talking was through. Burlingame and Dream made for one another at once, a razor sharp diagonal that flowed effortlessly into a serpentine spiral as the distance closed. Hands extended, each brunette sent testing swats toward their foe’s shoulders, but these were either swatted aside, ignored entirely or rebuked after a brief bit of hand-fighting. Eventually Dream tired of the Wannadream’s proximity and she sent Susan rocking back on her heels with a rough two-handed shove.
“First sample’s free, ragamuffin.” the Ultimate Image sniffed as they resumed circling. “Next time you’ll pay to bask in my pres--” Susan surged in, caught Dream in a Collar & Elbow and marched her back until Lisa’s leather-sheathed rump bumped against the ominously-padded walls. Upper lip curled in a moue of perfect distaste, The Dream cast her gaze to Nick Castle and said, “Get her back, Castle. The new money stink is overpowe--”
Lisa fell into scalding, poisonous silence when Burlingame removed her hand from the other brunette’s nape and casually patted Dream’s cheek. “That’s not me, sweetie.” Sue murmured. “That’s nervous sweat you’re smelling. And it’s all you.” She raised both hands to shoulder-level and cleared off, leaving the Personification of Perfection to scrub her cheek like she’d just laid it against a handrail on the New York subway.
Eyes narrowed to hateful slots, Lisa pushed off the wall and went for Sue’s face with her nails in the lead, unfortunately the Rainmaker simply swatted them aside and collected her noggin in a compact Side Headlock. Smiling happily as she ground that perfect temple against the point of her hip, Burlingame walked out to the middle of that unpleasantly smooth padded floor, turned in a little circle, then stuffed her flank into Lisa’s tummy and hupped her up, over and down with a low, unpleasant THUMP!
Sidling around so she was perpendicular to the challenger’s head, Sue set about planting a little cauliflower in The Dream’s flawless ears. Careful to keep her head angled up and back to better avoid the other brunette’s questing hand, Burlingame yoked up on the Headlock and dropped it down to bounce the back of Lisa’s skull against the floor. Over the resultant yelp, she said, “One of these days you’ll have to tell me your secnnhh--no, none of thatTEEERRRHH!”
Dream got a hand against the champ’s chin and tried to force a claw into her mouth. Sue pulled back that much farther to escape the encroachment but this only allowed the Waking Nightmare to catch hold of her hair with the other hand! Pulling hard enough to give the Courtier a mild case of whiplash, Lisa jabbed a few knees between Burlingame’s shoulders before she crunched in on herself and ‘smecked’ both legs around the heiress’ throat. Ankles already locked when the Headlock popped like cheap champagne, Lisa sat up, squeeeeeeezed the hold and treated herself to a single stiff overhand SLAP of that taut bronze belly.
“Not that I would EVER deign to share any of my secrets with a plebian Wannadream such as yourself.” Dream noted once she’d tucked a perfectly curled lock behind one ear. “But it is a night for magic and mayhem, so indulge me for a moment. Exactly what secret am I not sharing with--”
Burlingame pumped her knees like she was going to kip out of the trap, so The Dream slapped her belly again, then crooked that hand into a claw and sank it deep in that tawny midriff. “Ah, ah, ah, none of that now, now.” she filled her free hand with the champ’s dark locks and gave it a brief, savage pull. “Not unless you’d like to give up that shiny gold title in exchange for your--”
“Not f*cking likely.” Sue interrupted with a short, barking sneer.
“That’s what you think.” Dream noted in the midst of gouging her index finger into the Rainmaker’s navel. “You’ll give me everything I damned well please before the night is--oh, already averting your gaze in shame, are we? You go right ahead, Wannadream.”
Indeed Susannah was twisting this way and that in The Dream’s clutches, a flurry of energetic wriggling that put her forehead within inches of that softly yielding floor. The strategic merits of this new arrangement were not immediately apparent, not that it stopped Lisa from flattening one hand into a paddle so she could slap-slap-slap Sue’s vulnerable backside.
“Oh what WONDERFUL percussion!” the challenger purred. “I do hope you don’t surrender too soon, this is going to make for a sublimely Bittersweet Symph--” Lisa trailed off, consternation creasing her flawless features as the other brunette clambered into a splay-legged four point stance. “Not the most dignified manner in which to kiss the floor.” The Dream sniped. “But I suppose I shouldn’t expect anything too tasteful from the likes of--”
Burlingame hopped over Lisa’s legs, landed neatly on the other side, then skipped back the way she’d came. This pattern continued several more times, Sue’s rhythm growing steadier and steadier until she came to a dead stop in a headstand directly before the irritated challenger.
“Oh please.” Lisa scoffed. “That thing doesn’t intimidate me in the slighNNNGGGGHHHH!”
Susan pushed down and shot up, the Ace’s noggin escaping Lisa’s confines with an audible ‘pop!’ Her boots had just touched down when Susan shot in and caught the Ultimate Image in another crushing Headlock! No Scissoring her way out this time, Lisa was flat on her back with her chin wedged tight in the Courtier’s armpit, her cheek flush against the swell of the Burlingame’s right breast.
Furious with this reversal of fortune, The Dream reached for her attacker’s hair but Sue intercepted with her free hand and banged the other brunette’s knuckles against the floor. Once that was under control she stretched that arm full length and trapped it between her thighs in a Scissors. Of course that left Lisa with one hand free, which she promptly plunged into the champion’s hair. Susan endured the sting & burn to trap the Ultimate Image’s pert little nose between the knuckles of her index and middle fingers.
“You’re a perfect ten, right sweetie?” Burlingame said as she began to twissssssssssst The Dream’s shnoz. “Let’s see if we can’t make you a respectable seven!”
“YOU’LL DO NO SUDGE THINGG!” Lisa protested in a shrill, petulant tone she hated. “GED YOR FILDY HANS OFFA MY NODEMMMMPPHH!”
Sue continued amateur Rhinoplasty until the noise grew too loud, then she shifted that hand so she could cover The Dream’s mouth while continuing to keep her nose clamped shut. “Don’t like my hand in your face, huh?” Sue asked after several more seconds. “Guess you won’t like this either.” She relinquished the smother only to mash, rub, swipe and generally grind her hand all over Lisa’s protesting face! Dream beat her heels against the floor in a fury and she continued to yank on the heiress’ hair, at least until Burlingame crooked her arm into a ‘V’ and jabbed that elbow into the side of Lisa’s skull! The leather-clad lovely shuddered on impact, her resistance slowing enough for Susan to transition from the Headlock to a Crossbody Pin.
In the end Dream’s arm remained a prisoner between the Rainmaker’s stems, though now she was swatting ineffectually at Burlingame’s glutes. With Lisa’s other hand confined in a firm Wristlock, the Ace balled her free (right) hand into a fist and began to ‘pwak!’ punches against that ivory midriff! “Who needs those,” Sue nodded in the direction of the leather restraints hanging from the east wall, “to keep you tied down? All I have to do is work your belly and you’ll be begging for a fresh round of electroshock!”
Lisa writhed wildly, always keeping one shoulder off the floor to deny the encroaching Wannadream even the briefest of covers. Of course the thought of electrified “therapy also motivated Lisa‘s escape efforts, her deep-seated anxiety just the sort of thing the Commissioner sought to put on display when she decided The Dream’s return match to a semblance of sanity would be placed in the padded enclosure of the rubberized cell.
“I’m not going back there!” Lisa shouted, her voice cracking noticeably as she thrashed beneath Burlingame.
“You’re already here,” Sue assured, landing another set of jabs into the bruised tummy of the challenger.
The brown eyes of the Ultimate Image darted as Lisa Classic couldn’t seem to find an escape from the bigger, stronger brunette, but although Dream had returned to her basic black cow-skin and mannerisms, Red Lisa slipped out from desperation. Teeth bared, Lisa lifted her head enough to sink her pearlies into the Black Courtier’s side and chomp down.
Reacting immediately with a pained shriek, Sue released her Scissors, rolled off The Dream and hopped to her feet, checking the tooth-shaped welts in her side. Lisa hadn’t broken skin, but Sue’s dark pools showed a fury of their own, hers far more focused than the growing mania within Lisa’s.
The Dream surveyed the ‘rubber room’ she and the World Champion occupied. It’s similar to her environs at Orlando General’s Psych Ward, but Bethany Christian’s version had the added accoutrements of the restraints mentioned by the champion, a straightjacket placed lightly on a hook on the opposite wall, a nightstick leaned against the base of yet another, the final wall behind a drawn hospital curtain.
Going for the closest, The Dream bounced on her bare feet to the stick and snatched it, ducking under a Dropkick from the Ace as she scooped up the hardwood baton. Somersaulting and rolling up to her feet, The Dream reached vertical a second before Burlingame and with a weapon in her grasp and not yet at full ‘Red’ froth, Dream charged and used a blunt end, driving it into Sue’s solar plexus.
The Rainmaker doubled over with a deep guttural groan and paid for that reflexive response when Lisa happily, within a No Disqualification environment, brought the stick down across Sue’s spine with a double-handed axe-like grip. Burlingame crumpled to her knees, face etched and back arched in pain.
“Perfection will not be caged again!” Lisa assured, regaining her measured cadence, Red receding as she tossed the stick aside.
“I don’t need Celia’s ornaments to beat you.”
The Dream moved to a stance in front of the penitent title holder and pulled Sue up, keeping her stooped, and stuffing her foe’s head between the challenger’s leather-encased thighs. Lisa clamped tight on her Standing Headscissors and yanked Burlingame’s lower togs into a spandex wedge, deep between Sue’s bronzed buns. She shaped her hands into paddles and bringz da noise, namely her Bittersweet Symphony, smacking stinging spanks across the backside of Burlingame.
After a dozen, a wriggling Sue flinched with each further beat on the butt bongos, her derriere starting to glow from the abuse. The Ace wrapped her arms around her foe’s thighs but before she could lift and send the smaller Lisa up, over and off, The Dream dropped to her knees, sending Sue’s face into the floor. Though padded with a couple inches of foam under white latex, the impact was enough to scramble Sue’s senses further.
The World Champion rolled absently to her back next to the kneeling Dream.
“I’m Lisa Dream,” The Ultimate Image announced to the splayed Rainmaker. She turned to a 4K HD camera in one of the top corners of the enclosure beaming the action to the FAWNatics. “And in case you’re late to the show, I’M PERFECT!”
Dream raised a bare foot and SLAMMED it down at the juncture of Burlingame’s thighs, Sue instantly shooting to a seated position as if she’s had a few volts enter her system.
“NOT CRAZY!” The Dream finished.
Lisa bounded several steps away, spun on the balls of her feet and charged Sue as the Black Courtier struggled toward her feet. The Dream RAMMED a raised knee between the eyes of Burlingame, sending Sue tumbling in a ragged back somersault. Likely the best wrestler FAWN had ever seen somehow managed to end in a sagging but semi-vertical heap, on her haunches, arms limp at her side.
“You’re tough for a Wannadream,” Lisa whispered to herself more than Sue, “but you’re not nearly perfect.”
As Sue began to rise, her head still dipped, Lisa circled and charged toward the tawny-skinned warrior, bringing down a familiar hammer blow across the back of Sue’s skull, the Dreamophobes in the audience watching Lisa deliver her Dreamsicle with the ruthless efficiency of Lisa Classic rather than the manic intensity of her Red counterpart.
Flat on her face, her only movement some spastic twitches, Sue’s less than blissfully unaware as The Dream again scanned the confines. The wall restraints and straightjacket froze Lisa in her tracks so she moved to the curtain and pulled it back, revealing a smallish stainless steel toilet extending from the final wall, bolted in place and apparently in working order from the water in the bottom of the bowl.
“And they call me a psycho?” Lisa said, shaking her head softly. “But maybe this will give the Wannadream a taste of what perfection survived.”
Burlingame was up to hands and knees and the Dream collected her with a handful of dark locks, another digging into the scruff of the champ’s neck. Lisa pressed down while pulling Sue forward, never letting the still dazed champion rise from all fours, traveling along the padded floor to the metal bowl.
A feral growl mixed with Lisa’s demand her foe lift her gaze when the warriors reached the pot. Burlingame was yanked to her haunches and forced to stare into the pooled liquid of undetermined quality.
“It was Christian’s mistake to bring me here. It was your mistake to agree.”
Lisa moved both sets of fingers to the back of Sue’s scalp and pushed her face down toward the steel basin.
Burlingame swung an elbow behind her in a panic and thumped it into Lisa’s leather-sheathed chest. Blindly, she sent another and another, her face hovering over the bowl by only a few inches. The last one JOLTED into the challenger’s sternum, Lisa’s grip loosening considerably.
Reaching up and behind her, Sue gathered The Dream’s braincase in a Three Quarters Facelock and pulled her foe’s cranium forward and down, CRASHING the crown of Lisa’s skull into the front lip of the bowl. The Dream’s head violently snaps back from the impact, body following. She ended in a motionless starfish behind the gasping Rainmaker.
Features set in a grimace as she undid that stinging reminder of the Bittersweet Symphony, Burlingame looked from the toilet to Lisa and back again. “Did you,” her voice heavy with incredulity, “just try to give me a f*cking Swirly?”
The Dream didn’t reply and that was fine, as Sue wasn’t quite sure she wanted an answer. Crawling over to the stunned challenger after a few deep breaths, Susan cupped her hands over Lisa’s ears and forced her to stand when the Ace did the same. Back to the grim prison-style commode, Burlingame pumped a quintet of Kneelifts into the other brunette’s tummy to compound upon the work she’d done earlier in the match. Lisa ‘ooofffhed’, then raised a hand to shove Sue away only to find herself caught in a Wristlock. A single quick Shoulderblock to the sternum sent The Dream reeling back to the end of the World Champion’s tether which meant Burlingame had just enough slack to drop her hips and sling Lisa toward the toilet! Eyes going wide as that highlight reel worthy indignity rushed in to meet her, the Ultimate Image slammed on the brakes and careened ‘round in half circle that stopped with the back of her thighs little more than a strong heartbeat from the bowl’s edge.
Arms windmilling frantically, Lisa finally, mercifully began to catch her bal--THWHUNK! Sue leapt, spun and pumped her right knee between the challenger’s eyes! The Dream’s hands fell to her sides and she crumpled to her haunches, or rather seat on the toilet.
LEAPING KNEE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=-p6JEZ6tlBg
“I’m really, really glad the seat was down.” Burlingame told Nick Castle.
“Why’s that?”
“I’d have hated to pause the match while you fished her out of there.”
“Me? You’re the one who put her there!”
“And you’re the one who wears the stripes, buddy.”
The referee said nothing so Susan strolled over to the seated battler and reeled her into a Front Facelock. In the next instant she slung Dream’s near arm across her shoulders and caught a handful of leather waistband, a set of hooks more than up to the task of hauling Lisa to verticality and then far beyond it as the heiress dipped her knees to muscle the other brunette directly overhead. The cell’s ceiling was so low that The Dream’s toes almost brushed it so Burlingame promptly laid out on her back to THWHUMP her foe’s skull into the utilitarian padding of the floor.
SNAP BRAINBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=reHRGmTVGok
Susan floated over into a cover but rather than pin the Ultimate Image she caught the bottom edge of Lisa’s top in one hand and yanked it high enough to administer a trifecta of stinging SLAPS to her opponent’s ivory midsection.
Dream flinched, swatted Burlingame’s hand away and clambered to a woozy seat. “Kuuuuhhh… keep your grimy hands off me, Wannadream.” Lisa ordered. “I don’t know where you’ve NNNGGHHH!”
Susan put a stop to that perfect sass with a swift Toe Kick between the vulnerable brunette’s shoulders. Lisa cringed and reached for ropes that weren’t there, so the Rainmaker backed off a few steps to build up a bit of a head start before she TWHAPPED her heels into the base of her opponent’s neck.
“Where I’ve been? You don’t know where I’ve been?” Sue snarked once she’d regained her feet. “I guess that makes sense now that I think about it. I mean, you came back to ‘yourself’,” she bracketed the last word with a pair of contemptuous air quotes, “all of what, six weeks ago? Before that the last time we saw ‘Lisa Classic’,” more air quotes, though now the Courtier was strolling toward the straightjacket hanging by the front door, “you’d just had your ass handed to you by Jenny Jacobs and Celia and the Sisters were dragging you off to a room that looked a lot like this. That was what? Christ, that was three years ago. Yeah, a lot’s happened since then.”
Cupping the back of her neck in a near death-grip, Lisa struggled to a seat and snarled, “I… I destroyed them. I destroyed her. Just like I’ll destroy yoEERRRRGGGGGHHH!”
Straightjacket slung over one shoulder, Burlingame strolled around behind the other brunette, went up on tiptoe and dropped to one knee, the better to spike a Bionic Elbow into the crown of her opponent’s skull.
“You destroyed them?” Sue scoffed. “That’s rich. The fact is, ‘Lisa Dream’ hasn’t won a match in more than three years. The only victories to your name were earned by Sierra Mist’s drug-addled puppet and the woman I actually wanted to wrestle tonight. But since she vanished when you FINALLY hung an L on Olivia…” Burlingame had been working with the straightjacket, now she crouched down behind the challenger and pulled it snug against her chest.
Repeated strikes to that perfect noggin did nothing for the Dream’s response time, not even the touch of that rough canvas seemed to pierce the fog. It wasn’t until Burlingame slipped both arms into those confining sleeves that Lisa’s dark eyes popped wide open. “NOOOOOOOO!” she said in a feral shriek utterly bereft of her usual haughtiness and self control. “NO DOCTORS! NO NURSES! NO CELLS! NO JACKETS!” Lisa thrashed like a live wire, it wasn’t enough to free her from the straightjacket, but she made it to one knee in short order.
Wrapping the ends of the canvas sleeves around her hands for extra support, the Ace continued to yoke back on the trap as Dream powered to her feet. “LET ME GO, LET ME GO, LET ME GO!” Lisa shrieked loud enough to make Castle cover his ears while Susan was preoccupied shifting her feet to avoid the challenger’s stamping feet. Lips set in a thin, grim line, Burlingame matched Dream’s movements as best she could, then THUNKED a single vicious knee into the small of her back. The Ultimate Image slumped forward against her bonds, allowing Sue the opening she needed to lift her feet off the floor by a few inches. Wasn’t much in the way of clearance but the Bankable Bombshell didn’t need it, she got low and popped her hips to THWHUMP Lisa down on the back of her head and shoulders in a literal Straightjacket German Suplex.
STRAIGHTJACKET GERMAN SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=6M1IFrBeOFo
Dream ended her ride folded into a bawdy Matchbook that would’ve stayed in place quite a bit longer if Sue hadn’t rolled to her knees with the binding grip still in place. Using the sleeves to haul Lisa upright, Burlingame snuggled in close, then hopped and braced both knees between her foe’s shoulders for an oxygen-destroying Lungblower! Lisa bounced up but couldn’t roll away, so Sue pushed her onto her knees, then braced both boots against the backs of Lisa’s thighs and leaaaaaaaaaaned back to torture the other brunette’s spinal column.
“That you, Red?” Burlingame asked as she pushed with her feet and pulled with her hands. “Did Lisa let you out to play with me? Or did you let yourself out?”
“NO GAMES!” Red Lisa shrieked. “NO DOCTORS, NO CELLS, ONLY PERFECTRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHH!”
Sue pulled the crossed arms up over Lisa’s face and yanked ‘em back and forth, aggressively scrubbing the challenger’s perfect features with that rough canvas. “No such thing as perfection, baby.” Burlingame explained as she treated Lisa like she was nothing more than a taffy-pull. “There’s only The Ace. And you don’t measure--”
Red Lisa twisted to the left and kicked her left leg free of the champ’s painful confinement. A twist to the right did the same to her right leg and just like that the leather-clad lunatic planted her feet and somersaulted backward, her delightfully Dreamy tush THUMPING against the Ace’s chest. Raving with furious delight as she tore her way free of the hateful jacket, Red Lisa tossed it aside, then knotted her hands into a perfect Double Axehandle and buried it deep in Burlingame’s golden belly!
“OOOOFFFFFHHHAAAAAARRRRGGGGGHHH!”
Now it was Sue’s turn to scream like one of Harrenhal’s former patients as Red Lisa curled both hands into talons and affixed them to the center of her trunks.
“PERFECT!” the Waking Nightmare roared over her wailing adversary. “I’M RED LISA AND I’M PERFECT!”
Burlingame pressed her palms into The Dream’s shoulderblades and shoved the luscious legend into a forward somersault; Lisa, Red or otherwise, rolling off Sue’s body. As the challenger scrambled to her feet, Sue tried to do the same but there’s a significant hitch in her giddy-up from the recent mauling below, as brief as it had been.
Lisa beat the champ by a tick and when the Ace reached vertical, she’s gutted by a Toe Kick to her tawny tummy. Likely FAWN’s #1 all-time after her Mania mastery over Shea London, Burlingame doubled at the waist, dark eyes bulging. A frothing Lisa, Red in mental state if not her wardrobe, wrecked the titleholder with a stiff European Uppercut that sends Burlingame into a drunken stagger. Sue wobbles in a half circle, her back now to the wild-eyed Lisa.
From behind, The Dream swept her left arm across the Rainmaker’s throat in a backhand grip. She forced the shellshocked Black Courtier into a Dragon Sleeper but it’s all prelude to a Rolling Dreamy Cutter that SPIKED Sue’s skull into the padded floor.
ROLLING DREAMY CUTTER
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ewFmZ4qNkrM
The blasted brunette flopped to her back from the impact, while the crowd, watching on closed circuit, was stunned into silence at the thought of any version of Lisa Legend being FAWN’s World Champion. Red wasn’t so far gone as to not understand she’s got a chance at the gold with Sue in her state. She dove across the Ace in a Lateral Press, pushing a palm into Sue’s chin and another into her foe’s lower pelvis while grasping her fingers closed into the thin sheath of spandex for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOOOOOO!
Burlingame rolled out of the near-fall, late but relatively emphatically, the sponge of tonight’s special battlefield perhaps saving her from total ruin.
Lisa rose to her haunches, screeching and ripping at her own shoulder-length, dark-chocolate locks.
“STOP TRYING TO BE PERFECT!” she screamed at the Rainmaker.
Dream hopped to her feet, raced to the nearest wall and banged her head against it in…frustration? Who knows? The increasing intensity of the match, the stakes involved, and the all-too-familiar environment was clearly taking its toll on her sanity.
Apparently bouncing some semblance of awareness back into place, Lisa turned her attention back to the rising Rainmaker and, as if she’s simply been waiting for the perfect moment instead of having a momentary freak-out, Lisa turned into a perfectly-placed roundhouse kick to Susannah’s left temple.
ROUNDHOUSE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_XaNom8l7vI
Burlingame pirouetted on her bare soles but remained upright long enough to be corralled into a Side Headlock by the rampaging Lisa. Dream dragged the rubber-legged Sue toward the toilet.
“I’m number one,” she roared at a corner camera, “Which makes this Wannadream number two!”
Reaching the stainless steel commode, Lisa skillfully, for a half-crazed lunatic, stomped the pit of the champion’s near knee, forcing Sue to kneel before the non-porcelain god. Not completely aware of her surroundings, Burlingame could presumably feel Lisa’s right set of fingers dig into the back of her scalp, but it’s only on the shove down does the newly crowned FAWN’s Best Ever understand she’s going snorkeling in the loo.
AND LISA STUFFED BURLINGAME’S FACE INTO THE POT, pushing those flawless features into the murky, uncharted waters. She hitt the flusher with her free hand, giving a flailing, writhing Ace a World Title-worthy swirly.
Half the closed-circuit crowd squealed with delight, the other with disgust.
Having given the full ‘facial’, Lisa pulled out the waterlogged face of Burlingame free of the bowl, Sue sputtering and spitting. The Dream disdainfully tossed the Rainmaker to the cushioned floor and screamed at a lens.
“I’M THE BEST! IF YOU DON’T THINK SO, YOU’RE CRAZY!”
Lisa spun violently on hearing the final word, apparently not realizing it came from her own mouth.
“Who the f*ck said that?” she howled, stomping up and down, punching the padded wall.
Realizing it must be the doused Burlingame, for who else could it have been, Lisa marched toward her foe, Sue up to hands and knees.
“You’re going to find out who’s insane!” Lisa assured, as she dug her nails into Sue’s dark mop and tugged the Ace off her knees.
But The Dream found out something else altogether when a desperate Burlingame launches forward, Headbutting Lisa’s privates flush.
No amount of crazy could dispel the shockwave of pain flooding over her slender frame from her leather-encased delta. Lips curled in a tight ‘O’, Lisa duck waddled in reverse until her back met ‘rubber room’ wall.
The consummate professional, Sue understood she’s got a chance to pull this one from the fire. Forcing through the pain, she pushed to her feet and raced to a Back Elbow smash to the chin of the challenger, rocking any chromatic variety of Lisa that might be floating around in her over-occupied braincase. Sue pressed a forearm deep into Lisa’s throat to keep her foe pinned to the wall, Lisa’s legs threatening to collapse and leave her in a puddle if Burlingame didn’t.
“Doc Blassenville really did have it right, didn’t she?”
Lisa’s glazed eyes show stupor rather than rage and there’s barely a twitch of defense while Burlingame maneuvers Lisa’s left wrist into a leather cuff that’s chained to the wall. Sue pulled it TIGHT and buckled it closed, fastening a suddenly frantic Blood-Red Lisa to the facsimile of her long-time living quarters.
With a turbulent Dream shrieking and frothing and cursing at her confinement, Sue wisely took a step back, just out of danger of claws aimed at her eye sockets. With only one wrist locked, Lisa remained a dangerous trapped animal, but a gut-churning THWAP of a kick to The Dream’s ribs by the Rainmaker partially pacified the lunatic.
And with Susannah able to remain out of range of the restrained Ultimate Image, she went to town with a series of Side Kicks to dreamy midriff then a Burlingame-changer of a Super Kick that left Lisa semiconscious and dangling from her captured wrist, the cuff the only thing keeping Dream from ending at the champion’s feet.
Sue cupped a palm under the chin of the limp Lisa and raised her head. She gazed into the glassy peepers of the Ultimate Image.
“We may just leave you here, whackjob,” Burlingame informed, allowing Lisa’s chin to droop to her chest after providing the knowledge.
The Dream stirred, weakly raising her free hand toward the champ’s throat. The Ace easily intercepts, wrapping a pair of hands around The Dream’s right wrist and moving it toward the opposite cuff.
“Once I get you set in place, we’ll find out what makes you surrender your title hopes in addition to your marb--”
“NOOOOOOOOO!” Lisa jolted to manic life when her free wrist touched that well-worn leather, the Waking Nightmare lunging forward to spike a Kneelift into the champion’s navel.
Sue growled, grabbed a handful of hair and THWONKED a Headbutt between The Dream’s perfectly demented eyes. “F*cking lunatic. You’re crazier now than you’ve ever NGHHUUUURRRGGGHHH!”
Red Lisa stuffed her tummy with a second Kneelift, then grabbed hold of the strap restraining her left arm and used it as extra leverage when she leapt up and ‘smecked’ her legs around the Rainmaker’s throat. “I’M NOT CRAZY!” she bellowed in the midst of trying to squeeze Burlingame’s head clean off her shoulders. “I’M NOT CRAZY YOU NASTY LITTLE WANNADREAM, I’M PERFECTLY PERFECT! I’M RED LISNGH! NGH! NGH!”
In no mood for Dream’s assessments when she was struggling for air, Susan curled her left hand into a fist and pounded it in above the challenger’s left hip no less than half a dozen times, the Ace hunting her foe’s kidney as a means to escape those leather-sheathed Scissors. Her position was bad but the leverage was just fine, meaning Lisa sobbed in body-shocked anguish when the Courtier found her target not once, not twice but three times! Fighting off the wave of nausea with a hellacious banshee shriek, Red Lisa halved the Scissors, brought her right leg up fast and down just as quickly, the trapped brunette driving her heel into the crown of Sue’s skull! Burlingame’s legs shivered but she stayed upright, in fact she turned her face into Red Lisa’s left leg and put everything into the bite she affixed to that encroaching thigh! Red Lisa wailed, smashed another heel into her attacker’s noggin, then pulled that knee in tight enough to brace her foot against the heiress’ chest. A single convulsive kick sent Susan tumbling away, the World Champ twisting in mid-retreat before crumpling to one knee.
The Red Menace went to work on that damned restraint at once, her fingers scrabbling and ripping until she finally got the right-- the cuff popped loose and Lisa collapsed against the padded wall, holding that abraded wrist tight to her chest. “Nuuuuhhhh… never again.” she whispered to no one in particular. “Never again. Never again. My name is Red Lisa and you’ll NEVER LOCK ME UP EVER AGAIN!”
That throat-straining assertion seemed to breathe new life into the challenger as she pushed away from the wall and closed on the penitent Ace with a clarity and focus more often associated with her Dreamier half. Hands raised overhead, Red Lisa crooked ‘em into claws and raaaaaaaaked Susan from shoulders to lower back in a single savage stroke!
“AAAAHHH FAAAAAAAHHHK!” Burlingame scrambled to her feet, got scored for her efforts, then let out a surprised ‘eeeeeeep’ when the Cracked Image of Human Perfection leapt into a seat atop her shoulders.
In a normal ring the Dream Driver would’ve been a sure thing, but the low ceiling of the padded cell meant Red Lisa was practically hunched over her perch which in turn gave Susan enough time to “OOOFFFFFHHHH!” Burlingame crouched, then went up on her tiptoes to THUMP the other woman’s head against the ceiling. Lisa cringed, got bounced again, then cried out in surprise and pain when the Rainmaker doubled over fast enough to dump the challenger on her face, chest and belly. Struggling for breath after the flat landing, Red Lisa clambered to all fours and might’ve made it a whole lot farther if Sue hadn’t planted a foot beside either hip and smashed a huge Butt Bomb into her lower back!
The Perfect Fever Dream went down with a weary grunt that gurgled into a much more desperate shriek when Burlingame snatched a handful of hair and wrenched her head up and back for the Inverted Facelock that’d complete the Root of All Evil.
ROOT OF ALL EVIL:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=rXA65SeGrd8
“TAP!” Sue roared as she yoked back on the hold like she meant to snap the trapped brunette In half. “TAP OUT YOU CRAZY BYTCH!”
“What do you say, Dream?” Castle asked immediately thereafter. “You need me to call it? Just say the word and--”
“THAT’S NOT MY NAME!” the madwoman shrieked. “I’M RED LISA AND I’M OOOOOOHHHHHHHHH STAAAAAAAHHHHP!”
“You’re Red Lisa and you’re f*cking done.” Burlingame hissed as she bounced all her weight on the challenger’s straining spine. “Tap or snap, it doesn’t f*cking matter to EEERRRRRHHHHH GODDAMNED BYTCH!”
Red Lisa sank her teeth into the meat of Burlingame’s bicep to repay the slight from earlier. The surprise of it caused Sue to break the mount and the Facelock, but she made Lisa pay with a heartless stomp between the shoulders. Plunging her hands into the brunette’s hair shortly thereafter, she pulled Dream to her knees and-- Red Lisa slammed a short, merciless Uppercut between the champ’s thighs, freezing her on the spot.
Shoulders rising and falling in a spate of evil giggling, Lisa got to her feet and reeled Sue’s noggin under her left arm in a Front Facelock. From there she caught the Ace’s right leg in a snug Cradle, then dipped her knees and popped her hips to THWHUMP Burlingame against the floor with the First Verse in her Ode to Perfection. Nick swooped in to make the count but Red Lisa didn’t allow it, as she somersaulted over the planted champion to bring both women back to boot-leather with her hooks still set deep. Giggles growing that much louder, the Red Menace muscled her burden overhead only to swing her back the way she came while simultaneously dropping to her tush, Red Lisa bypassing Verse Two altogether to get to the spine-crushing dénouement! Puddled against the pads in the aftermath of these vicious verses, Sue offered no more than a soft, burbling groan as The Fever Dream leaned into her upturned haunches for the…
ODE TO PERFECTION, VERSE THREE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=VaLjZhQ8YYE
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOO!
Burlingame rolled a shoulder up at the last second to deny Red Lisa’s maniacal perfection.
This show of resilience didn’t go over well with the challenger, who promptly buried her hands in Sue’s hair all while screaming at the top of her lungs. “PERFECT!” she railed to the Ace in the midst of hauling her to verticality. “PERFECT, PERFECT, PERFECT AND YOU CAN’T DENY IT!”
Burlingame couldn’t do much of anything at the moment truth be told, so Red Lisa whipped ’round in a half circle and reached over her right shoulder with both hands to secure the Three Quarters Facelock. With one foot planted flat, she kicked the other forward and-- Sue BURIED a Mule Kick between her rival’s thighs to balance the ledger once more.
Day Dreamer forgotten, Red Lisa started to back away but didn’t get far before Sue dragged her down into a Standing Headscissors. “I think you‘d make a great World Champion, Lisa.” Burlingame muttered after she’d caught the other brunette in a Waistlock. “Long as you never leave this room, that is.”
The Ace gathered her reserves for a moment, then spun Red Lisa onto her shoulder for a Powerbomb. But rather than simply deposit her to the floor, Burlingame charged the far wall flat out and just TWHUMPED her opponent as hard as she could. The padding bounced her back a few steps and that was ok, that’s what she’d wanted. Wheeling around with Red Lisa still in position, Sue raced the other way and THWHUMPED the challenger against that wall! Wheeling around one more time, the heiress rushed to the center of the room where she finally sat out and PLANTED Red Lisa on the back of her head and shoulders. Calves hooked over Dream’s biceps, Sue leaned every bit of her weight into the cover while Castle and the rest of the Basement Dwellers counted off…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOO!
Red Lisa popped her hips and tumbled onto her stomach while Susan simply flopped backward in an exhausted sprawl.
Positioned between his vulnerable charges, Nick Castle looked back and forth, trying to decide if he should start a count or let them come around on their own. The question was driven from his mind by a sudden harsh sliding sound near the front of the room. Frowning, the Senior Official looked up just in time to see a small rectangular object come tumbling through a small open panel that’d appeared near the base of the door. It slid shut a moment thereafter but Castle barely noticed, as he was making double time toward the door.
“Hey!” he barked. “What the hell is this? What do you think you’re--”
“Watch your tone, Mr. Castle.” Celia Blassenville said from the other side of the door. “After all, this is MY experiment. And I’ve got the blessing of Anciline and Bethany. I’m afraid poor Edward was outvoted in the end.”
CELIA BLASSENVILLE:
“What the hell did you just throw in here?” asked the flummoxed ref.
“Why, a taser, of course.” The Mistress of Puppets replied. “Permanently set at a safe level, I assure you. But it should provide wonderful insight into which of these women truly WANTS the World Title.”
“A taser?” Castle couldn’t believe it. “Are you out of your goddamned mind?”
Blassenville only smiled. “Why is it the people on the other side of that door are always the ones to ask that? I’d turn around, Mr. Castle. It looks as though my little white mice are starting to stir.”
The good doctor might consider them lab rats. The FAWNatics watching on 4K closed circuit considered them a pair of the most impactful superstars in FAWN’s history and they were less than thrilled by Celia’s curve ball.
The glassy eyes of the women on the battlefield were drawn to Nick’s shout about someone being out of their goddamned mind and each regained her focus. Lisa, believing the comment directed at her, in her lack of clarity, was up first and charged a backpedaling Castle.
“Blassenville,” Nick shouted, holding up his palms beseechingly, “Blassenville’s crazy!”
The elucidation stopped Lisa in her tracks. Dream wrapped Castle in a gentle hug. She gave him a tender kiss on the forehead.
“Thank you,” she said, beaming a thousand-watt, gulp-inducing grin into Nick’s confused mug.
“Yeah. Thank you,” Burlingame chuckled as she races by The Dream and her new bestie, dipping and scooping for the taser on the padded floor.
Conspiracy theories instantly flooded Lisa’s muddled mind, Dream ‘realizing’ Nick tricked her into letting Sue grab the weapon used upon her multiple times by Celia and the Sisters. Lisa shoved him away, transfixed by a rising champion with a weapon provided by a woman who’d made her life a living hell.
Before Burlingame could brandish however, a ‘betrayed’ frothing Dream shrieked as she leapt into a Dropkick to Sue’s wrist that sends the taser flying out of the Ace’s grasp.
Dr. Blassenville watched through the small porthole window in the door, faint amusement etched on her face. She’s transformed something approximating a wrestling match into a fight for her ‘piece of cheese’. Lisa and Sue dove for the device, ending in a jumble of limbs and torsos, the taser disappearing from view within the writhing frames of champion and challenger.
A flash of crackling, blue-white light emerges from the grapplers, an acrid smell causing Castle’s face to turn sour with disgust and worry. Both the bodies of the Ultimate Image and the Rainmaker spasmed madly, the volts overwhelming each woman’s sensory systems and, as each brunette flops to her back, it’s finally clear that one lead each had implanted in the midriff of Lisa and Sue, the women now sharing the punishment of taking an already insane match to another level.
Nick hovers over each as the tremors slowly made heir way out of the sweat-soaked combatants. Christian already told him there must be a conclusive winner in AHE’s main event and so counting each woman out, saving them from more abuse, was not an option. Or was it?
Deciding Lisa and Sue have had enough and that their careers had already been shortened by this fight, he started a ten count secure in the knowledge that his job wasn’t worth what he’s seeing.
But he barely got ‘ONE’ out of his mouth when Lisa’s hand moved to the lead sticking from the rim of ivory skin between her black leather top and pants and yanked it free. She sat bolt upright, shaking out her body and turned to a shivering Sue, tawny frame still clenching tight from the aftermath.
“Rookie,” she growled, wearily pushing to her feet.
Lisa grabbed her foe’s wrist and pulled a ragdolled Burlingame to one knee. She controlled both arms of the champion, one each with arms and legs, spreading them wide in a Crucifix. Lisa lifted her outside leg and swept it across the back of Sue’s neck. With both arms essentially barred and Lisa’s leather-encased left leg pressing brutally against the back of Burlingame’s neck, the Ultimate Image of Human Perfection had Susannah caught in her DreamWeaver.
DREAMWEAVER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=scenn0wIeRc
“GIVE UP!” Lisa demanded.
Still fighting the effects of the electricity, her body not fully obeying her commands, and the increasing agonizing pressure from seemingly every angle, Sue slumped toward the mat. She barely kept herself elevated, fighting for her title life through, five, ten, fifteen seconds.
Rising a few inches, Burlingame sent a roar through the crowd and drew a look of terror from The Dream, but Sue quickly sank again and began tapping Lisa’s thigh.
“SAY IT!” Dream growled.
“I QUIT!” Burlingame howled, the Ace left without any cards to play.
“NOT YOU!” Lisa screeched.
“YOU WON LISA. LET HER GO!” Castle responded.
“You already tricked me once, Mister Man!” the wild-eyed Dream gibbered, spit bubbles flying from her lips.
“TELL ME I WON! TELL ME I’M FREE!”
The PA crackles with static as Sue wailed curses and clawed divots in the padded floor.
Lisa watched Celia’s face behind the safety glass, microphone at her lips.
“You won my dear girl. You’re free.”
The Dream dismounted the former World Champion, backpedaled to a wall and leaned heavily against it, drawing in deep breaths while Nick checks on a puddled Burlingame.
“I’m perfect,” Lisa murmured to herself. “And I’m free.”
Wiping scattered sweat-soaked strands off her forehead, Dream used the cushioned wall to push into a stumbling gait.
“I want my ticket. I want my ticket out of here.”
Castle moved from a softly stirring Sue and wrapped on the door. The sound of a heavy latch clicking preceded a creak of the door and FAWN’s greatest prize entered with the official. Lisa walked to Nick, an eye still on Burlingame, still wary of her seemingly conquered foe.
Dream snatched the belt from Castle and hugged it close.
“Blassenville is gone, so don’t think you have to fight your way out,” Nick assured.
“That bytch is never gone,” Lisa countered as she lurched toward the exit, sounding as sane as she has since the start of the match.
“But she’s that Wannadream’s problem now.”
There would be no grand entrances into the battleground for FAWN’s biggest prize and the usual fanfare both in support or against would not be available for the combatants to enjoy, despise or ignore.
The 4K closed circuit cameras beaming tonight’s ultimate fight to the basement and beyond showed the unceremonious opening of a door to a padded cell, walls and floor covered in white plastic-encased insulation, not thick, but enough to keep a crazed individual from immediately injuring themselves.
The crowd buzzes as The Ultimate Image of Human Perfection was prodded if not quite shoved into a facsimile of her quarters at Orlando General for well over a year, committed there by the less than good doctor Celia Blassenville.
Having emerged from that hell through the help of Sierra Mist and having passed through two different personalities, one of which led to the destruction of Mist, The Dream at long last, after exorcising the demon that was Olivia Dare, at least finally appeared herself.
LISA DREAM:
Returning to her skin-tight black leather instead of the crimson of ‘Red Lisa’, the barefoot Personification of Perfection nervously entered, dark eyes flashing around the enclosure. The energy in the challenger seemed nearly overloading her circuits. Despite her best contractual efforts to move the match to something approximating a ring, the attempts fell on the deaf ears of the Commissioner, Lisa Classic gulped through the less than ideal circumstances to slay another inner demon and claim FAWN’s most prestigious title.
The strategically placed streaks of red in her shoulder-length brunette locks were gone as were the half-dozen, red ‘tear streaks’ that previously led from the lower lid of Lisa’s eyes to mid-cheek. This was the legendary Lisa if even only in appearance.
The Dream’s attire was a sheath of black cowskin, her customary sleeveless vest, cut low, showing plenty of alabaster tummy, the pale skin contrasting sharply. Lisa’s long leather pants reached to uncovered feet, any Dreamophiles in the audience frustrated at having the flawless, pale stems hidden from view. A series of leather ‘strings’ cobweb across her back to keep the vest in place, though they also leave a considerable portion of her ivory back in view.
Dream moved away from the entrance as the disembodied voice of a Ring Announcer made the reason for her appearance in the rubber room official.
“Ladies and gentlemen the following contest is scheduled for one fall with no time limit and is for the FAWN World Championship! Introducing first, she is the challenger, hailing from New York City she stands at five feet six inches tall and weighs in tonight at one hundred and eighteen pounds, she is the Ultimate Image of Human Perfection… LISA DREAM!”
Lisa leaned from side to side, staying on the balls of her feet, waiting for the media’s newly ordained best ever in FAWN’s history.
They were clearly wrong.
No one could be better than perfect.
Lisa was still acclimatizing to the battlefield when the door opened a second time. The new arrival strode in with no prodding, though the set of her jaw and the quickness of her stride suggested she was no more pleased to be here than the challenger. Gothic trappings be damned, the Bankable Bombshell still sported her trademark dark blue two-piece with mellow golden trim and matching pads at knee and elbow, though she had foregone footwear, same as the challenger.
SUSANNAH BURLINGAME:
Unsnapping that ten pounds of leather and gold from around her waist, Susannah Burlingame raised it for the camera, then turned it toward Lisa. “See this, Dream?” the Rainmaker snapped. “At ‘Mania I defended it in the center of a wrestling ring in front of a sold out crowd against maybe the single strongest pillar this promotion’s ever known.” Burlingame paused, swept a hand around to indicate their current environs. “And now? Now I’m strolling into a padded cell in the dankest, remotest wing of this goddamned haunted house, the crowd is watching from a f*cking basement and I’m ‘defending’ against an escapee from a work-release program that didn’t know her own name six weeks ago. This bullshyt has Bethany’s stink on it, but you’re the headcase that made it all possible.”
Dream bared her teeth and took several aggressive steps toward the World Champion only to be stopped by Nick Castle. Swatting the zebra’s interposing hand aside without so much as a glance, the Resurgent Image of Human Perfection growled, “You think I wanted this, Wannadream? I deserve only grandest stage to reclaim that which is rightfully--”
“F*ck on outta here with that.” Burlingame barked. “Look around, babe. THIS is the only thing you rightly deserve. And tonight I’ll make sure you reclaim it with all the pomp and circumstance--”
The Rainmaker fell silent when Lisa juked past Castle to go nose to nose with the other brunette.
“I’m never going back here, Wannadream. NEVER. I’ll paint these walls with your blood, sweat and tears before I let them lock me away again.”
“Still, not enough.” Sue murmured. “Don’t worry though. I’ll put in a word with Lenore to make sure she gets you the nicest room ava-”
Lisa shoved the champ so Sue shoved her back and they would’ve come to blows then and there if Nick hadn’t intervened. “Back up. BACK UP, I said. Lisa, I want you over there. Sue, let me check your pads. Grudging silence both champion and challenger while the Senior Official and the Announcer ran through last second ablutions.
“And introducing her opponent, hailing from Stovington Vermont, she stands at five feet seven inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and thirty pounds! Representing the Black Court she is the three time FAWN World Champion! This is SUSANNAH BURLINGAME!”
Sue raised the belt as punctuation, then handed it to Castle who in turn passed it off to a FAWN tech waiting in the doorway. As soon as the tech stepped away the door swung shut and locked with an ominous ‘click’.
The speaker tucked away in the gloomiest corner of the Padded Cell voiced a polite little chime to inform champion and challenger that the time for talking was through. Burlingame and Dream made for one another at once, a razor sharp diagonal that flowed effortlessly into a serpentine spiral as the distance closed. Hands extended, each brunette sent testing swats toward their foe’s shoulders, but these were either swatted aside, ignored entirely or rebuked after a brief bit of hand-fighting. Eventually Dream tired of the Wannadream’s proximity and she sent Susan rocking back on her heels with a rough two-handed shove.
“First sample’s free, ragamuffin.” the Ultimate Image sniffed as they resumed circling. “Next time you’ll pay to bask in my pres--” Susan surged in, caught Dream in a Collar & Elbow and marched her back until Lisa’s leather-sheathed rump bumped against the ominously-padded walls. Upper lip curled in a moue of perfect distaste, The Dream cast her gaze to Nick Castle and said, “Get her back, Castle. The new money stink is overpowe--”
Lisa fell into scalding, poisonous silence when Burlingame removed her hand from the other brunette’s nape and casually patted Dream’s cheek. “That’s not me, sweetie.” Sue murmured. “That’s nervous sweat you’re smelling. And it’s all you.” She raised both hands to shoulder-level and cleared off, leaving the Personification of Perfection to scrub her cheek like she’d just laid it against a handrail on the New York subway.
Eyes narrowed to hateful slots, Lisa pushed off the wall and went for Sue’s face with her nails in the lead, unfortunately the Rainmaker simply swatted them aside and collected her noggin in a compact Side Headlock. Smiling happily as she ground that perfect temple against the point of her hip, Burlingame walked out to the middle of that unpleasantly smooth padded floor, turned in a little circle, then stuffed her flank into Lisa’s tummy and hupped her up, over and down with a low, unpleasant THUMP!
Sidling around so she was perpendicular to the challenger’s head, Sue set about planting a little cauliflower in The Dream’s flawless ears. Careful to keep her head angled up and back to better avoid the other brunette’s questing hand, Burlingame yoked up on the Headlock and dropped it down to bounce the back of Lisa’s skull against the floor. Over the resultant yelp, she said, “One of these days you’ll have to tell me your secnnhh--no, none of thatTEEERRRHH!”
Dream got a hand against the champ’s chin and tried to force a claw into her mouth. Sue pulled back that much farther to escape the encroachment but this only allowed the Waking Nightmare to catch hold of her hair with the other hand! Pulling hard enough to give the Courtier a mild case of whiplash, Lisa jabbed a few knees between Burlingame’s shoulders before she crunched in on herself and ‘smecked’ both legs around the heiress’ throat. Ankles already locked when the Headlock popped like cheap champagne, Lisa sat up, squeeeeeeezed the hold and treated herself to a single stiff overhand SLAP of that taut bronze belly.
“Not that I would EVER deign to share any of my secrets with a plebian Wannadream such as yourself.” Dream noted once she’d tucked a perfectly curled lock behind one ear. “But it is a night for magic and mayhem, so indulge me for a moment. Exactly what secret am I not sharing with--”
Burlingame pumped her knees like she was going to kip out of the trap, so The Dream slapped her belly again, then crooked that hand into a claw and sank it deep in that tawny midriff. “Ah, ah, ah, none of that now, now.” she filled her free hand with the champ’s dark locks and gave it a brief, savage pull. “Not unless you’d like to give up that shiny gold title in exchange for your--”
“Not f*cking likely.” Sue interrupted with a short, barking sneer.
“That’s what you think.” Dream noted in the midst of gouging her index finger into the Rainmaker’s navel. “You’ll give me everything I damned well please before the night is--oh, already averting your gaze in shame, are we? You go right ahead, Wannadream.”
Indeed Susannah was twisting this way and that in The Dream’s clutches, a flurry of energetic wriggling that put her forehead within inches of that softly yielding floor. The strategic merits of this new arrangement were not immediately apparent, not that it stopped Lisa from flattening one hand into a paddle so she could slap-slap-slap Sue’s vulnerable backside.
“Oh what WONDERFUL percussion!” the challenger purred. “I do hope you don’t surrender too soon, this is going to make for a sublimely Bittersweet Symph--” Lisa trailed off, consternation creasing her flawless features as the other brunette clambered into a splay-legged four point stance. “Not the most dignified manner in which to kiss the floor.” The Dream sniped. “But I suppose I shouldn’t expect anything too tasteful from the likes of--”
Burlingame hopped over Lisa’s legs, landed neatly on the other side, then skipped back the way she’d came. This pattern continued several more times, Sue’s rhythm growing steadier and steadier until she came to a dead stop in a headstand directly before the irritated challenger.
“Oh please.” Lisa scoffed. “That thing doesn’t intimidate me in the slighNNNGGGGHHHH!”
Susan pushed down and shot up, the Ace’s noggin escaping Lisa’s confines with an audible ‘pop!’ Her boots had just touched down when Susan shot in and caught the Ultimate Image in another crushing Headlock! No Scissoring her way out this time, Lisa was flat on her back with her chin wedged tight in the Courtier’s armpit, her cheek flush against the swell of the Burlingame’s right breast.
Furious with this reversal of fortune, The Dream reached for her attacker’s hair but Sue intercepted with her free hand and banged the other brunette’s knuckles against the floor. Once that was under control she stretched that arm full length and trapped it between her thighs in a Scissors. Of course that left Lisa with one hand free, which she promptly plunged into the champion’s hair. Susan endured the sting & burn to trap the Ultimate Image’s pert little nose between the knuckles of her index and middle fingers.
“You’re a perfect ten, right sweetie?” Burlingame said as she began to twissssssssssst The Dream’s shnoz. “Let’s see if we can’t make you a respectable seven!”
“YOU’LL DO NO SUDGE THINGG!” Lisa protested in a shrill, petulant tone she hated. “GED YOR FILDY HANS OFFA MY NODEMMMMPPHH!”
Sue continued amateur Rhinoplasty until the noise grew too loud, then she shifted that hand so she could cover The Dream’s mouth while continuing to keep her nose clamped shut. “Don’t like my hand in your face, huh?” Sue asked after several more seconds. “Guess you won’t like this either.” She relinquished the smother only to mash, rub, swipe and generally grind her hand all over Lisa’s protesting face! Dream beat her heels against the floor in a fury and she continued to yank on the heiress’ hair, at least until Burlingame crooked her arm into a ‘V’ and jabbed that elbow into the side of Lisa’s skull! The leather-clad lovely shuddered on impact, her resistance slowing enough for Susan to transition from the Headlock to a Crossbody Pin.
In the end Dream’s arm remained a prisoner between the Rainmaker’s stems, though now she was swatting ineffectually at Burlingame’s glutes. With Lisa’s other hand confined in a firm Wristlock, the Ace balled her free (right) hand into a fist and began to ‘pwak!’ punches against that ivory midriff! “Who needs those,” Sue nodded in the direction of the leather restraints hanging from the east wall, “to keep you tied down? All I have to do is work your belly and you’ll be begging for a fresh round of electroshock!”
Lisa writhed wildly, always keeping one shoulder off the floor to deny the encroaching Wannadream even the briefest of covers. Of course the thought of electrified “therapy also motivated Lisa‘s escape efforts, her deep-seated anxiety just the sort of thing the Commissioner sought to put on display when she decided The Dream’s return match to a semblance of sanity would be placed in the padded enclosure of the rubberized cell.
“I’m not going back there!” Lisa shouted, her voice cracking noticeably as she thrashed beneath Burlingame.
“You’re already here,” Sue assured, landing another set of jabs into the bruised tummy of the challenger.
The brown eyes of the Ultimate Image darted as Lisa Classic couldn’t seem to find an escape from the bigger, stronger brunette, but although Dream had returned to her basic black cow-skin and mannerisms, Red Lisa slipped out from desperation. Teeth bared, Lisa lifted her head enough to sink her pearlies into the Black Courtier’s side and chomp down.
Reacting immediately with a pained shriek, Sue released her Scissors, rolled off The Dream and hopped to her feet, checking the tooth-shaped welts in her side. Lisa hadn’t broken skin, but Sue’s dark pools showed a fury of their own, hers far more focused than the growing mania within Lisa’s.
The Dream surveyed the ‘rubber room’ she and the World Champion occupied. It’s similar to her environs at Orlando General’s Psych Ward, but Bethany Christian’s version had the added accoutrements of the restraints mentioned by the champion, a straightjacket placed lightly on a hook on the opposite wall, a nightstick leaned against the base of yet another, the final wall behind a drawn hospital curtain.
Going for the closest, The Dream bounced on her bare feet to the stick and snatched it, ducking under a Dropkick from the Ace as she scooped up the hardwood baton. Somersaulting and rolling up to her feet, The Dream reached vertical a second before Burlingame and with a weapon in her grasp and not yet at full ‘Red’ froth, Dream charged and used a blunt end, driving it into Sue’s solar plexus.
The Rainmaker doubled over with a deep guttural groan and paid for that reflexive response when Lisa happily, within a No Disqualification environment, brought the stick down across Sue’s spine with a double-handed axe-like grip. Burlingame crumpled to her knees, face etched and back arched in pain.
“Perfection will not be caged again!” Lisa assured, regaining her measured cadence, Red receding as she tossed the stick aside.
“I don’t need Celia’s ornaments to beat you.”
The Dream moved to a stance in front of the penitent title holder and pulled Sue up, keeping her stooped, and stuffing her foe’s head between the challenger’s leather-encased thighs. Lisa clamped tight on her Standing Headscissors and yanked Burlingame’s lower togs into a spandex wedge, deep between Sue’s bronzed buns. She shaped her hands into paddles and bringz da noise, namely her Bittersweet Symphony, smacking stinging spanks across the backside of Burlingame.
After a dozen, a wriggling Sue flinched with each further beat on the butt bongos, her derriere starting to glow from the abuse. The Ace wrapped her arms around her foe’s thighs but before she could lift and send the smaller Lisa up, over and off, The Dream dropped to her knees, sending Sue’s face into the floor. Though padded with a couple inches of foam under white latex, the impact was enough to scramble Sue’s senses further.
The World Champion rolled absently to her back next to the kneeling Dream.
“I’m Lisa Dream,” The Ultimate Image announced to the splayed Rainmaker. She turned to a 4K HD camera in one of the top corners of the enclosure beaming the action to the FAWNatics. “And in case you’re late to the show, I’M PERFECT!”
Dream raised a bare foot and SLAMMED it down at the juncture of Burlingame’s thighs, Sue instantly shooting to a seated position as if she’s had a few volts enter her system.
“NOT CRAZY!” The Dream finished.
Lisa bounded several steps away, spun on the balls of her feet and charged Sue as the Black Courtier struggled toward her feet. The Dream RAMMED a raised knee between the eyes of Burlingame, sending Sue tumbling in a ragged back somersault. Likely the best wrestler FAWN had ever seen somehow managed to end in a sagging but semi-vertical heap, on her haunches, arms limp at her side.
“You’re tough for a Wannadream,” Lisa whispered to herself more than Sue, “but you’re not nearly perfect.”
As Sue began to rise, her head still dipped, Lisa circled and charged toward the tawny-skinned warrior, bringing down a familiar hammer blow across the back of Sue’s skull, the Dreamophobes in the audience watching Lisa deliver her Dreamsicle with the ruthless efficiency of Lisa Classic rather than the manic intensity of her Red counterpart.
Flat on her face, her only movement some spastic twitches, Sue’s less than blissfully unaware as The Dream again scanned the confines. The wall restraints and straightjacket froze Lisa in her tracks so she moved to the curtain and pulled it back, revealing a smallish stainless steel toilet extending from the final wall, bolted in place and apparently in working order from the water in the bottom of the bowl.
“And they call me a psycho?” Lisa said, shaking her head softly. “But maybe this will give the Wannadream a taste of what perfection survived.”
Burlingame was up to hands and knees and the Dream collected her with a handful of dark locks, another digging into the scruff of the champ’s neck. Lisa pressed down while pulling Sue forward, never letting the still dazed champion rise from all fours, traveling along the padded floor to the metal bowl.
A feral growl mixed with Lisa’s demand her foe lift her gaze when the warriors reached the pot. Burlingame was yanked to her haunches and forced to stare into the pooled liquid of undetermined quality.
“It was Christian’s mistake to bring me here. It was your mistake to agree.”
Lisa moved both sets of fingers to the back of Sue’s scalp and pushed her face down toward the steel basin.
Burlingame swung an elbow behind her in a panic and thumped it into Lisa’s leather-sheathed chest. Blindly, she sent another and another, her face hovering over the bowl by only a few inches. The last one JOLTED into the challenger’s sternum, Lisa’s grip loosening considerably.
Reaching up and behind her, Sue gathered The Dream’s braincase in a Three Quarters Facelock and pulled her foe’s cranium forward and down, CRASHING the crown of Lisa’s skull into the front lip of the bowl. The Dream’s head violently snaps back from the impact, body following. She ended in a motionless starfish behind the gasping Rainmaker.
Features set in a grimace as she undid that stinging reminder of the Bittersweet Symphony, Burlingame looked from the toilet to Lisa and back again. “Did you,” her voice heavy with incredulity, “just try to give me a f*cking Swirly?”
The Dream didn’t reply and that was fine, as Sue wasn’t quite sure she wanted an answer. Crawling over to the stunned challenger after a few deep breaths, Susan cupped her hands over Lisa’s ears and forced her to stand when the Ace did the same. Back to the grim prison-style commode, Burlingame pumped a quintet of Kneelifts into the other brunette’s tummy to compound upon the work she’d done earlier in the match. Lisa ‘ooofffhed’, then raised a hand to shove Sue away only to find herself caught in a Wristlock. A single quick Shoulderblock to the sternum sent The Dream reeling back to the end of the World Champion’s tether which meant Burlingame had just enough slack to drop her hips and sling Lisa toward the toilet! Eyes going wide as that highlight reel worthy indignity rushed in to meet her, the Ultimate Image slammed on the brakes and careened ‘round in half circle that stopped with the back of her thighs little more than a strong heartbeat from the bowl’s edge.
Arms windmilling frantically, Lisa finally, mercifully began to catch her bal--THWHUNK! Sue leapt, spun and pumped her right knee between the challenger’s eyes! The Dream’s hands fell to her sides and she crumpled to her haunches, or rather seat on the toilet.
LEAPING KNEE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=-p6JEZ6tlBg
“I’m really, really glad the seat was down.” Burlingame told Nick Castle.
“Why’s that?”
“I’d have hated to pause the match while you fished her out of there.”
“Me? You’re the one who put her there!”
“And you’re the one who wears the stripes, buddy.”
The referee said nothing so Susan strolled over to the seated battler and reeled her into a Front Facelock. In the next instant she slung Dream’s near arm across her shoulders and caught a handful of leather waistband, a set of hooks more than up to the task of hauling Lisa to verticality and then far beyond it as the heiress dipped her knees to muscle the other brunette directly overhead. The cell’s ceiling was so low that The Dream’s toes almost brushed it so Burlingame promptly laid out on her back to THWHUMP her foe’s skull into the utilitarian padding of the floor.
SNAP BRAINBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=reHRGmTVGok
Susan floated over into a cover but rather than pin the Ultimate Image she caught the bottom edge of Lisa’s top in one hand and yanked it high enough to administer a trifecta of stinging SLAPS to her opponent’s ivory midsection.
Dream flinched, swatted Burlingame’s hand away and clambered to a woozy seat. “Kuuuuhhh… keep your grimy hands off me, Wannadream.” Lisa ordered. “I don’t know where you’ve NNNGGHHH!”
Susan put a stop to that perfect sass with a swift Toe Kick between the vulnerable brunette’s shoulders. Lisa cringed and reached for ropes that weren’t there, so the Rainmaker backed off a few steps to build up a bit of a head start before she TWHAPPED her heels into the base of her opponent’s neck.
“Where I’ve been? You don’t know where I’ve been?” Sue snarked once she’d regained her feet. “I guess that makes sense now that I think about it. I mean, you came back to ‘yourself’,” she bracketed the last word with a pair of contemptuous air quotes, “all of what, six weeks ago? Before that the last time we saw ‘Lisa Classic’,” more air quotes, though now the Courtier was strolling toward the straightjacket hanging by the front door, “you’d just had your ass handed to you by Jenny Jacobs and Celia and the Sisters were dragging you off to a room that looked a lot like this. That was what? Christ, that was three years ago. Yeah, a lot’s happened since then.”
Cupping the back of her neck in a near death-grip, Lisa struggled to a seat and snarled, “I… I destroyed them. I destroyed her. Just like I’ll destroy yoEERRRRGGGGGHHH!”
Straightjacket slung over one shoulder, Burlingame strolled around behind the other brunette, went up on tiptoe and dropped to one knee, the better to spike a Bionic Elbow into the crown of her opponent’s skull.
“You destroyed them?” Sue scoffed. “That’s rich. The fact is, ‘Lisa Dream’ hasn’t won a match in more than three years. The only victories to your name were earned by Sierra Mist’s drug-addled puppet and the woman I actually wanted to wrestle tonight. But since she vanished when you FINALLY hung an L on Olivia…” Burlingame had been working with the straightjacket, now she crouched down behind the challenger and pulled it snug against her chest.
Repeated strikes to that perfect noggin did nothing for the Dream’s response time, not even the touch of that rough canvas seemed to pierce the fog. It wasn’t until Burlingame slipped both arms into those confining sleeves that Lisa’s dark eyes popped wide open. “NOOOOOOOO!” she said in a feral shriek utterly bereft of her usual haughtiness and self control. “NO DOCTORS! NO NURSES! NO CELLS! NO JACKETS!” Lisa thrashed like a live wire, it wasn’t enough to free her from the straightjacket, but she made it to one knee in short order.
Wrapping the ends of the canvas sleeves around her hands for extra support, the Ace continued to yoke back on the trap as Dream powered to her feet. “LET ME GO, LET ME GO, LET ME GO!” Lisa shrieked loud enough to make Castle cover his ears while Susan was preoccupied shifting her feet to avoid the challenger’s stamping feet. Lips set in a thin, grim line, Burlingame matched Dream’s movements as best she could, then THUNKED a single vicious knee into the small of her back. The Ultimate Image slumped forward against her bonds, allowing Sue the opening she needed to lift her feet off the floor by a few inches. Wasn’t much in the way of clearance but the Bankable Bombshell didn’t need it, she got low and popped her hips to THWHUMP Lisa down on the back of her head and shoulders in a literal Straightjacket German Suplex.
STRAIGHTJACKET GERMAN SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=6M1IFrBeOFo
Dream ended her ride folded into a bawdy Matchbook that would’ve stayed in place quite a bit longer if Sue hadn’t rolled to her knees with the binding grip still in place. Using the sleeves to haul Lisa upright, Burlingame snuggled in close, then hopped and braced both knees between her foe’s shoulders for an oxygen-destroying Lungblower! Lisa bounced up but couldn’t roll away, so Sue pushed her onto her knees, then braced both boots against the backs of Lisa’s thighs and leaaaaaaaaaaned back to torture the other brunette’s spinal column.
“That you, Red?” Burlingame asked as she pushed with her feet and pulled with her hands. “Did Lisa let you out to play with me? Or did you let yourself out?”
“NO GAMES!” Red Lisa shrieked. “NO DOCTORS, NO CELLS, ONLY PERFECTRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHH!”
Sue pulled the crossed arms up over Lisa’s face and yanked ‘em back and forth, aggressively scrubbing the challenger’s perfect features with that rough canvas. “No such thing as perfection, baby.” Burlingame explained as she treated Lisa like she was nothing more than a taffy-pull. “There’s only The Ace. And you don’t measure--”
Red Lisa twisted to the left and kicked her left leg free of the champ’s painful confinement. A twist to the right did the same to her right leg and just like that the leather-clad lunatic planted her feet and somersaulted backward, her delightfully Dreamy tush THUMPING against the Ace’s chest. Raving with furious delight as she tore her way free of the hateful jacket, Red Lisa tossed it aside, then knotted her hands into a perfect Double Axehandle and buried it deep in Burlingame’s golden belly!
“OOOOFFFFFHHHAAAAAARRRRGGGGGHHH!”
Now it was Sue’s turn to scream like one of Harrenhal’s former patients as Red Lisa curled both hands into talons and affixed them to the center of her trunks.
“PERFECT!” the Waking Nightmare roared over her wailing adversary. “I’M RED LISA AND I’M PERFECT!”
Burlingame pressed her palms into The Dream’s shoulderblades and shoved the luscious legend into a forward somersault; Lisa, Red or otherwise, rolling off Sue’s body. As the challenger scrambled to her feet, Sue tried to do the same but there’s a significant hitch in her giddy-up from the recent mauling below, as brief as it had been.
Lisa beat the champ by a tick and when the Ace reached vertical, she’s gutted by a Toe Kick to her tawny tummy. Likely FAWN’s #1 all-time after her Mania mastery over Shea London, Burlingame doubled at the waist, dark eyes bulging. A frothing Lisa, Red in mental state if not her wardrobe, wrecked the titleholder with a stiff European Uppercut that sends Burlingame into a drunken stagger. Sue wobbles in a half circle, her back now to the wild-eyed Lisa.
From behind, The Dream swept her left arm across the Rainmaker’s throat in a backhand grip. She forced the shellshocked Black Courtier into a Dragon Sleeper but it’s all prelude to a Rolling Dreamy Cutter that SPIKED Sue’s skull into the padded floor.
ROLLING DREAMY CUTTER
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ewFmZ4qNkrM
The blasted brunette flopped to her back from the impact, while the crowd, watching on closed circuit, was stunned into silence at the thought of any version of Lisa Legend being FAWN’s World Champion. Red wasn’t so far gone as to not understand she’s got a chance at the gold with Sue in her state. She dove across the Ace in a Lateral Press, pushing a palm into Sue’s chin and another into her foe’s lower pelvis while grasping her fingers closed into the thin sheath of spandex for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOOOOOO!
Burlingame rolled out of the near-fall, late but relatively emphatically, the sponge of tonight’s special battlefield perhaps saving her from total ruin.
Lisa rose to her haunches, screeching and ripping at her own shoulder-length, dark-chocolate locks.
“STOP TRYING TO BE PERFECT!” she screamed at the Rainmaker.
Dream hopped to her feet, raced to the nearest wall and banged her head against it in…frustration? Who knows? The increasing intensity of the match, the stakes involved, and the all-too-familiar environment was clearly taking its toll on her sanity.
Apparently bouncing some semblance of awareness back into place, Lisa turned her attention back to the rising Rainmaker and, as if she’s simply been waiting for the perfect moment instead of having a momentary freak-out, Lisa turned into a perfectly-placed roundhouse kick to Susannah’s left temple.
ROUNDHOUSE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_XaNom8l7vI
Burlingame pirouetted on her bare soles but remained upright long enough to be corralled into a Side Headlock by the rampaging Lisa. Dream dragged the rubber-legged Sue toward the toilet.
“I’m number one,” she roared at a corner camera, “Which makes this Wannadream number two!”
Reaching the stainless steel commode, Lisa skillfully, for a half-crazed lunatic, stomped the pit of the champion’s near knee, forcing Sue to kneel before the non-porcelain god. Not completely aware of her surroundings, Burlingame could presumably feel Lisa’s right set of fingers dig into the back of her scalp, but it’s only on the shove down does the newly crowned FAWN’s Best Ever understand she’s going snorkeling in the loo.
AND LISA STUFFED BURLINGAME’S FACE INTO THE POT, pushing those flawless features into the murky, uncharted waters. She hitt the flusher with her free hand, giving a flailing, writhing Ace a World Title-worthy swirly.
Half the closed-circuit crowd squealed with delight, the other with disgust.
Having given the full ‘facial’, Lisa pulled out the waterlogged face of Burlingame free of the bowl, Sue sputtering and spitting. The Dream disdainfully tossed the Rainmaker to the cushioned floor and screamed at a lens.
“I’M THE BEST! IF YOU DON’T THINK SO, YOU’RE CRAZY!”
Lisa spun violently on hearing the final word, apparently not realizing it came from her own mouth.
“Who the f*ck said that?” she howled, stomping up and down, punching the padded wall.
Realizing it must be the doused Burlingame, for who else could it have been, Lisa marched toward her foe, Sue up to hands and knees.
“You’re going to find out who’s insane!” Lisa assured, as she dug her nails into Sue’s dark mop and tugged the Ace off her knees.
But The Dream found out something else altogether when a desperate Burlingame launches forward, Headbutting Lisa’s privates flush.
No amount of crazy could dispel the shockwave of pain flooding over her slender frame from her leather-encased delta. Lips curled in a tight ‘O’, Lisa duck waddled in reverse until her back met ‘rubber room’ wall.
The consummate professional, Sue understood she’s got a chance to pull this one from the fire. Forcing through the pain, she pushed to her feet and raced to a Back Elbow smash to the chin of the challenger, rocking any chromatic variety of Lisa that might be floating around in her over-occupied braincase. Sue pressed a forearm deep into Lisa’s throat to keep her foe pinned to the wall, Lisa’s legs threatening to collapse and leave her in a puddle if Burlingame didn’t.
“Doc Blassenville really did have it right, didn’t she?”
Lisa’s glazed eyes show stupor rather than rage and there’s barely a twitch of defense while Burlingame maneuvers Lisa’s left wrist into a leather cuff that’s chained to the wall. Sue pulled it TIGHT and buckled it closed, fastening a suddenly frantic Blood-Red Lisa to the facsimile of her long-time living quarters.
With a turbulent Dream shrieking and frothing and cursing at her confinement, Sue wisely took a step back, just out of danger of claws aimed at her eye sockets. With only one wrist locked, Lisa remained a dangerous trapped animal, but a gut-churning THWAP of a kick to The Dream’s ribs by the Rainmaker partially pacified the lunatic.
And with Susannah able to remain out of range of the restrained Ultimate Image, she went to town with a series of Side Kicks to dreamy midriff then a Burlingame-changer of a Super Kick that left Lisa semiconscious and dangling from her captured wrist, the cuff the only thing keeping Dream from ending at the champion’s feet.
Sue cupped a palm under the chin of the limp Lisa and raised her head. She gazed into the glassy peepers of the Ultimate Image.
“We may just leave you here, whackjob,” Burlingame informed, allowing Lisa’s chin to droop to her chest after providing the knowledge.
The Dream stirred, weakly raising her free hand toward the champ’s throat. The Ace easily intercepts, wrapping a pair of hands around The Dream’s right wrist and moving it toward the opposite cuff.
“Once I get you set in place, we’ll find out what makes you surrender your title hopes in addition to your marb--”
“NOOOOOOOOO!” Lisa jolted to manic life when her free wrist touched that well-worn leather, the Waking Nightmare lunging forward to spike a Kneelift into the champion’s navel.
Sue growled, grabbed a handful of hair and THWONKED a Headbutt between The Dream’s perfectly demented eyes. “F*cking lunatic. You’re crazier now than you’ve ever NGHHUUUURRRGGGHHH!”
Red Lisa stuffed her tummy with a second Kneelift, then grabbed hold of the strap restraining her left arm and used it as extra leverage when she leapt up and ‘smecked’ her legs around the Rainmaker’s throat. “I’M NOT CRAZY!” she bellowed in the midst of trying to squeeze Burlingame’s head clean off her shoulders. “I’M NOT CRAZY YOU NASTY LITTLE WANNADREAM, I’M PERFECTLY PERFECT! I’M RED LISNGH! NGH! NGH!”
In no mood for Dream’s assessments when she was struggling for air, Susan curled her left hand into a fist and pounded it in above the challenger’s left hip no less than half a dozen times, the Ace hunting her foe’s kidney as a means to escape those leather-sheathed Scissors. Her position was bad but the leverage was just fine, meaning Lisa sobbed in body-shocked anguish when the Courtier found her target not once, not twice but three times! Fighting off the wave of nausea with a hellacious banshee shriek, Red Lisa halved the Scissors, brought her right leg up fast and down just as quickly, the trapped brunette driving her heel into the crown of Sue’s skull! Burlingame’s legs shivered but she stayed upright, in fact she turned her face into Red Lisa’s left leg and put everything into the bite she affixed to that encroaching thigh! Red Lisa wailed, smashed another heel into her attacker’s noggin, then pulled that knee in tight enough to brace her foot against the heiress’ chest. A single convulsive kick sent Susan tumbling away, the World Champ twisting in mid-retreat before crumpling to one knee.
The Red Menace went to work on that damned restraint at once, her fingers scrabbling and ripping until she finally got the right-- the cuff popped loose and Lisa collapsed against the padded wall, holding that abraded wrist tight to her chest. “Nuuuuhhhh… never again.” she whispered to no one in particular. “Never again. Never again. My name is Red Lisa and you’ll NEVER LOCK ME UP EVER AGAIN!”
That throat-straining assertion seemed to breathe new life into the challenger as she pushed away from the wall and closed on the penitent Ace with a clarity and focus more often associated with her Dreamier half. Hands raised overhead, Red Lisa crooked ‘em into claws and raaaaaaaaked Susan from shoulders to lower back in a single savage stroke!
“AAAAHHH FAAAAAAAHHHK!” Burlingame scrambled to her feet, got scored for her efforts, then let out a surprised ‘eeeeeeep’ when the Cracked Image of Human Perfection leapt into a seat atop her shoulders.
In a normal ring the Dream Driver would’ve been a sure thing, but the low ceiling of the padded cell meant Red Lisa was practically hunched over her perch which in turn gave Susan enough time to “OOOFFFFFHHHH!” Burlingame crouched, then went up on her tiptoes to THUMP the other woman’s head against the ceiling. Lisa cringed, got bounced again, then cried out in surprise and pain when the Rainmaker doubled over fast enough to dump the challenger on her face, chest and belly. Struggling for breath after the flat landing, Red Lisa clambered to all fours and might’ve made it a whole lot farther if Sue hadn’t planted a foot beside either hip and smashed a huge Butt Bomb into her lower back!
The Perfect Fever Dream went down with a weary grunt that gurgled into a much more desperate shriek when Burlingame snatched a handful of hair and wrenched her head up and back for the Inverted Facelock that’d complete the Root of All Evil.
ROOT OF ALL EVIL:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=rXA65SeGrd8
“TAP!” Sue roared as she yoked back on the hold like she meant to snap the trapped brunette In half. “TAP OUT YOU CRAZY BYTCH!”
“What do you say, Dream?” Castle asked immediately thereafter. “You need me to call it? Just say the word and--”
“THAT’S NOT MY NAME!” the madwoman shrieked. “I’M RED LISA AND I’M OOOOOOHHHHHHHHH STAAAAAAAHHHHP!”
“You’re Red Lisa and you’re f*cking done.” Burlingame hissed as she bounced all her weight on the challenger’s straining spine. “Tap or snap, it doesn’t f*cking matter to EEERRRRRHHHHH GODDAMNED BYTCH!”
Red Lisa sank her teeth into the meat of Burlingame’s bicep to repay the slight from earlier. The surprise of it caused Sue to break the mount and the Facelock, but she made Lisa pay with a heartless stomp between the shoulders. Plunging her hands into the brunette’s hair shortly thereafter, she pulled Dream to her knees and-- Red Lisa slammed a short, merciless Uppercut between the champ’s thighs, freezing her on the spot.
Shoulders rising and falling in a spate of evil giggling, Lisa got to her feet and reeled Sue’s noggin under her left arm in a Front Facelock. From there she caught the Ace’s right leg in a snug Cradle, then dipped her knees and popped her hips to THWHUMP Burlingame against the floor with the First Verse in her Ode to Perfection. Nick swooped in to make the count but Red Lisa didn’t allow it, as she somersaulted over the planted champion to bring both women back to boot-leather with her hooks still set deep. Giggles growing that much louder, the Red Menace muscled her burden overhead only to swing her back the way she came while simultaneously dropping to her tush, Red Lisa bypassing Verse Two altogether to get to the spine-crushing dénouement! Puddled against the pads in the aftermath of these vicious verses, Sue offered no more than a soft, burbling groan as The Fever Dream leaned into her upturned haunches for the…
ODE TO PERFECTION, VERSE THREE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=VaLjZhQ8YYE
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOO!
Burlingame rolled a shoulder up at the last second to deny Red Lisa’s maniacal perfection.
This show of resilience didn’t go over well with the challenger, who promptly buried her hands in Sue’s hair all while screaming at the top of her lungs. “PERFECT!” she railed to the Ace in the midst of hauling her to verticality. “PERFECT, PERFECT, PERFECT AND YOU CAN’T DENY IT!”
Burlingame couldn’t do much of anything at the moment truth be told, so Red Lisa whipped ’round in a half circle and reached over her right shoulder with both hands to secure the Three Quarters Facelock. With one foot planted flat, she kicked the other forward and-- Sue BURIED a Mule Kick between her rival’s thighs to balance the ledger once more.
Day Dreamer forgotten, Red Lisa started to back away but didn’t get far before Sue dragged her down into a Standing Headscissors. “I think you‘d make a great World Champion, Lisa.” Burlingame muttered after she’d caught the other brunette in a Waistlock. “Long as you never leave this room, that is.”
The Ace gathered her reserves for a moment, then spun Red Lisa onto her shoulder for a Powerbomb. But rather than simply deposit her to the floor, Burlingame charged the far wall flat out and just TWHUMPED her opponent as hard as she could. The padding bounced her back a few steps and that was ok, that’s what she’d wanted. Wheeling around with Red Lisa still in position, Sue raced the other way and THWHUMPED the challenger against that wall! Wheeling around one more time, the heiress rushed to the center of the room where she finally sat out and PLANTED Red Lisa on the back of her head and shoulders. Calves hooked over Dream’s biceps, Sue leaned every bit of her weight into the cover while Castle and the rest of the Basement Dwellers counted off…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOO!
Red Lisa popped her hips and tumbled onto her stomach while Susan simply flopped backward in an exhausted sprawl.
Positioned between his vulnerable charges, Nick Castle looked back and forth, trying to decide if he should start a count or let them come around on their own. The question was driven from his mind by a sudden harsh sliding sound near the front of the room. Frowning, the Senior Official looked up just in time to see a small rectangular object come tumbling through a small open panel that’d appeared near the base of the door. It slid shut a moment thereafter but Castle barely noticed, as he was making double time toward the door.
“Hey!” he barked. “What the hell is this? What do you think you’re--”
“Watch your tone, Mr. Castle.” Celia Blassenville said from the other side of the door. “After all, this is MY experiment. And I’ve got the blessing of Anciline and Bethany. I’m afraid poor Edward was outvoted in the end.”
CELIA BLASSENVILLE:
“What the hell did you just throw in here?” asked the flummoxed ref.
“Why, a taser, of course.” The Mistress of Puppets replied. “Permanently set at a safe level, I assure you. But it should provide wonderful insight into which of these women truly WANTS the World Title.”
“A taser?” Castle couldn’t believe it. “Are you out of your goddamned mind?”
Blassenville only smiled. “Why is it the people on the other side of that door are always the ones to ask that? I’d turn around, Mr. Castle. It looks as though my little white mice are starting to stir.”
The good doctor might consider them lab rats. The FAWNatics watching on 4K closed circuit considered them a pair of the most impactful superstars in FAWN’s history and they were less than thrilled by Celia’s curve ball.
The glassy eyes of the women on the battlefield were drawn to Nick’s shout about someone being out of their goddamned mind and each regained her focus. Lisa, believing the comment directed at her, in her lack of clarity, was up first and charged a backpedaling Castle.
“Blassenville,” Nick shouted, holding up his palms beseechingly, “Blassenville’s crazy!”
The elucidation stopped Lisa in her tracks. Dream wrapped Castle in a gentle hug. She gave him a tender kiss on the forehead.
“Thank you,” she said, beaming a thousand-watt, gulp-inducing grin into Nick’s confused mug.
“Yeah. Thank you,” Burlingame chuckled as she races by The Dream and her new bestie, dipping and scooping for the taser on the padded floor.
Conspiracy theories instantly flooded Lisa’s muddled mind, Dream ‘realizing’ Nick tricked her into letting Sue grab the weapon used upon her multiple times by Celia and the Sisters. Lisa shoved him away, transfixed by a rising champion with a weapon provided by a woman who’d made her life a living hell.
Before Burlingame could brandish however, a ‘betrayed’ frothing Dream shrieked as she leapt into a Dropkick to Sue’s wrist that sends the taser flying out of the Ace’s grasp.
Dr. Blassenville watched through the small porthole window in the door, faint amusement etched on her face. She’s transformed something approximating a wrestling match into a fight for her ‘piece of cheese’. Lisa and Sue dove for the device, ending in a jumble of limbs and torsos, the taser disappearing from view within the writhing frames of champion and challenger.
A flash of crackling, blue-white light emerges from the grapplers, an acrid smell causing Castle’s face to turn sour with disgust and worry. Both the bodies of the Ultimate Image and the Rainmaker spasmed madly, the volts overwhelming each woman’s sensory systems and, as each brunette flops to her back, it’s finally clear that one lead each had implanted in the midriff of Lisa and Sue, the women now sharing the punishment of taking an already insane match to another level.
Nick hovers over each as the tremors slowly made heir way out of the sweat-soaked combatants. Christian already told him there must be a conclusive winner in AHE’s main event and so counting each woman out, saving them from more abuse, was not an option. Or was it?
Deciding Lisa and Sue have had enough and that their careers had already been shortened by this fight, he started a ten count secure in the knowledge that his job wasn’t worth what he’s seeing.
But he barely got ‘ONE’ out of his mouth when Lisa’s hand moved to the lead sticking from the rim of ivory skin between her black leather top and pants and yanked it free. She sat bolt upright, shaking out her body and turned to a shivering Sue, tawny frame still clenching tight from the aftermath.
“Rookie,” she growled, wearily pushing to her feet.
Lisa grabbed her foe’s wrist and pulled a ragdolled Burlingame to one knee. She controlled both arms of the champion, one each with arms and legs, spreading them wide in a Crucifix. Lisa lifted her outside leg and swept it across the back of Sue’s neck. With both arms essentially barred and Lisa’s leather-encased left leg pressing brutally against the back of Burlingame’s neck, the Ultimate Image of Human Perfection had Susannah caught in her DreamWeaver.
DREAMWEAVER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=scenn0wIeRc
“GIVE UP!” Lisa demanded.
Still fighting the effects of the electricity, her body not fully obeying her commands, and the increasing agonizing pressure from seemingly every angle, Sue slumped toward the mat. She barely kept herself elevated, fighting for her title life through, five, ten, fifteen seconds.
Rising a few inches, Burlingame sent a roar through the crowd and drew a look of terror from The Dream, but Sue quickly sank again and began tapping Lisa’s thigh.
“SAY IT!” Dream growled.
“I QUIT!” Burlingame howled, the Ace left without any cards to play.
“NOT YOU!” Lisa screeched.
“YOU WON LISA. LET HER GO!” Castle responded.
“You already tricked me once, Mister Man!” the wild-eyed Dream gibbered, spit bubbles flying from her lips.
“TELL ME I WON! TELL ME I’M FREE!”
The PA crackles with static as Sue wailed curses and clawed divots in the padded floor.
Lisa watched Celia’s face behind the safety glass, microphone at her lips.
“You won my dear girl. You’re free.”
The Dream dismounted the former World Champion, backpedaled to a wall and leaned heavily against it, drawing in deep breaths while Nick checks on a puddled Burlingame.
“I’m perfect,” Lisa murmured to herself. “And I’m free.”
Wiping scattered sweat-soaked strands off her forehead, Dream used the cushioned wall to push into a stumbling gait.
“I want my ticket. I want my ticket out of here.”
Castle moved from a softly stirring Sue and wrapped on the door. The sound of a heavy latch clicking preceded a creak of the door and FAWN’s greatest prize entered with the official. Lisa walked to Nick, an eye still on Burlingame, still wary of her seemingly conquered foe.
Dream snatched the belt from Castle and hugged it close.
“Blassenville is gone, so don’t think you have to fight your way out,” Nick assured.
“That bytch is never gone,” Lisa countered as she lurched toward the exit, sounding as sane as she has since the start of the match.
“But she’s that Wannadream’s problem now.”