Post by dsb on Nov 26, 2019 0:59:47 GMT
Skye and Charlie fidgeted backstage. Living up to the axiom if you weren’t nervous, you weren’t ready, the Hearts discussed strategy and why they were ready to be sent looking for title candy on this All Hallows Evil card before their challengers.
Having proven themselves yet again on FAWN’s biggest stage, America’s Sweethearts living up to their name and their titles at Mania, remained FAWN Tag Team Champions, the beloved blonde and brunette standing at the pinnacle. Besting the Amazonian bridesmaids of Valerie Stipanovic and Mariel McGinty, Leggs, Inc, all questions of the Hearts had been answered by now. But Bethany Christian must’ve had another in mind if she demanded her merch moneymakers head to the squared circle early.
The FAWNatics murmured with confusion when Taylor Swift’s ‘Style’ emerged from the speakers, the masses instantly curious at why their champions were claiming the ring first.
STYLE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=-CmadmM5cOk
Well beyond worrying about one of the commissioner’s surprises at this point, the hottest team in the organization shared a pair of high fives and headed into the roar of the crowd beyond the curtain.
A moment later, a spotlight shined on a stunning, dimpled platinum blonde as she burst through, the crowd raising the decibels to outrageous levels.
CHARLIE DAWSON:
The gorgeous grappler raised a gaudy gold belt high with one hand and cupped the other to an ear as she moved to center stage. She dared the throng to get louder and, when the blushing blonde dropped to one knee to show the capacity crowd her partner standing behind, the SweetHeartAttack was claiming most of the standing room only crowd like a full-on coronary.
The frenetic Lil’est Mitchell, tag belt around her slender waist, waved her arms upward, beckoning the FAWNatics to keep the love coming. Charlie, having strapped her belt in place, raises her hands high and the babyfaced brunette laced fingers with her fellow titleholder.
SKYE MITCHELL:
Skye pulled her partner up and they pivoted into an adorable hug, their foreheads pressing together, words exchanged under the roar of the AHE crowd, the beloved duo on an unforgettable roll that lifted both from the edge of jobberdom to the highest reaches of FAWN fame.
Charlie and Skye broke from their huddle and headed for the ring, blonde and brunette making it a point to slap every single hand offered their way, becoming title holders in no way affecting the love for their supporters.
Reaching the squared circle, the Darling of the Desert and the Lil’est Mitchell slid under the bottom rope, sprang to their feet and unzipped their hot pink hoodies. Charlie shrugged hers off to reveal a light blue fightin’ two piece that, in spite of its somewhat modest cut, still managed to raise the blood pressure of quite a few spectators. For her part, Skye sported a royal purple lycra bikini top and short shorts, with white pads and boots, the old school fans no doubt noting the distinct similarity in Skylar’s togs with the gear worn by her older sister Cynthia at the beginning of her career.
The Announcer had a hell of a time raising his voice over Tay-Tay’s and the adoring multitudes, but he did his best as Charlie and Skye took a lap around the ring, pointing and clapping at their admirers.
“Tonight’s next match is scheduled for one fall with a thirty minute time limit and is for the FAWN Tag Team Championships. First, at a total combined weight of two-hundred and twenty-six pounds ... Charlie Dawson... Skylar Mitchell, Innocence Unleashed and the undisputed FAWN Tag Team Champions…AMMMEEERRRIIICCCAAA’S SWWWEEEETTTHHHEEEAAARRRTTTSSS!”
Charlotte and Skylar met each other mid-ring. They shared a high-five as their music faded. From one side of the arena “SWEEET” came booming and it was met by an equally loud “HEARTS” from the opposite direction. Dawson and Mitchell led the chant war, beaming and chuckling. The crowd, unstoppable, continued while the champs moved to their corner, unclip their belts and handed over their prizes for safekeeping.
Astounded the chant continued when they returned to the middle, if anything louder than before, the champs waved to their countless devotees, the Hearts acting like the favorites they’re now considered to be.
But when the pounding, ominous beginning of Disturbed’s 'Down With the Sickness' filled the arena, all eyes moved to the upper stage.
DOWN WITH THE SICKNESS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=09LTT0xwdfw
The arena was suddenly bathed in inky blackness. But instead of a pin spotlight illuminating the long-time boss woman of FAWN, the Tron cuts to a live shot from the heart of the executive box, high above the confused champions, her music fading.
Seated behind a giant mahogany desk, an impeccably dressed Bethany Christian smiled as she rifled through a set of papers, finally placing her signature on the bottom page before looking up at the lens capturing the moment.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Bethany began.
The FAWNatics didn’t need more said from the businesswoman to erupt in anger for keeping their heroines waiting, the Hearts ready to claim another ‘W’.
But Christian would not be swayed. She waited patiently, finally standing behind her desk, holding the signed page aloft.
“If you cretins are done, perhaps I can make my announcement.”
The jeers erupted once more within the darkness. This time Bethany did not wait.
“SHUT YOUR DAMN MOUTHS! I’m talking to your girl scouts.”
The lights emerged over the ring and the ring alone, Bethany’s visage on the ‘Tron hovering above. The statuesque brunette still awed most with her appearance, her long, muscular frame as impressive as ever in a tight blue, pinstripe suit and skirt
“Hello ladies. Welcome to All Hallows Evil.”
Skye and Charlie cheerily waved toward the ‘Tron, playing along, confident they could take anyone Bethany scrounged up in the back.
“Tonight’s tag match is one of my own creation. It’s what I call a Trick-or-Treat match. Don’t bother asking which you get. Instead, I’ll let my special guest explain.”
The screen flickered to black, only the ring and its occupants remaining flooded in illumination for long seconds, the Hearts increasingly agitated.
…UNTIL…
The crashing chords of 'The World is Not Enough' from Garbage echoed through the arena, every single person collectively losing their shit as the erstwhile anthem of FAWN’s most insufferable heiress enveloped every single soul.
THE WORLD IS NOT ENOUGH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=8C5NLfYdZaE
“I know how to hurt. I know how to heal. I know what to show and what to conceal.”
“I know when to talk. And I know when to touch. No one ever died from wanting too much…”
The crowd was at fever pitch, wondering if it could be true!?
A spotlight blinked into a long streak of light as Shirley Manson pronounces “The World Is Not Enough” and, at the end of the beam…YES. GOD DAMN IT. YES.
PORTIA FRICKIN VANBUREN THE FOURTH!
The strawberry blonde patrician smirked surreptitiously, reveling in the amazement she felt radiating from the concealed hordes. No boos yet. The crowd was simply too stunned and yes, perhaps delighted at seeing an icon return.
And VanBuren’s music was not the only the classic version of Fortune’s Favorite. The Hamptons and Monaco native looked flawless in her immaculate, old-school white tennis togs, namely a form-fitting, Louis Vuitton tank top and short skirt with white socks and thousand-dollar tennies. In her right hand, Precious, her beloved polo mallet, VanBuren showing she could still be sporty with or without equine accompaniment.
In the other hand, unsurprisingly, a microphone she drew to her ruby lips.
“I believe Miss Christian told you Jerseys to shut your festering pieholes!”
Only now do the first boos flow freely, quickly before becoming a torrent, Baby enjoying every ounce of hatred, seemingly feeling back in her special place.
“Thank you for the gracious welcome back, swamp scum.”
Portia hadn’t lost a bit of her acerbic tongue and VanBuren turned it toward the Sweethearts as she slowly sashayed toward the ring.
“And to think, the two of you are champions in the organization I MADE FAMOUS. It makes me want to vomit. What’s become of this place when two little Jersey trollops are dominating the roster?”
Portia shook her head, disgusted. In the ring, both Skye and Charlie, without amplifiers, motioned VanBuren to join them and find out.
“No, no, no, sweethearts.”
Baby stopped to consider.
“Damn. I meant that as an insult but it’s actually your team’s name. In any case. Ladies. I’ve already accomplished everything in that ring. But both your trick AND your treat have not. Their first task? To eliminate you from FAWN existence.”
Portia pivoted and swept an arm behind her, toward the stage. Mitchell and Dawson move to the corner nearest VanBuren to gaze upon the stooges she now apparently employed.
But instead of appearing on the now flood-lit platform, there was a rustle from behind. Two black-hooded figures leapt over the steel barricade, slid into the ring, and delivered bombastic Forearms to the back of the champions’ skulls.
The women turned the dazed Sweethearts toward them with tugs of a shoulder. Stereo Toe Kicks, doubled the young blood at their waists. The intruders corralled each champ in a Front Facelock before simultaneously PLOWING the crown of Skye and Charlie’s heads into the deck with Spike DDTs, Dawson and Mitchell flopping to wide, motionless spreadeagles next to each other.
The trespassers scrambled to their feet and rip off their hoodies casting them aside, each golden-brown woman in sparkling golden two-piece battle gear. The crowd could barely believe their eyes as Portia raised the stick to her lips.
“Welcome back Amara Singh and Alexis Suguitan…the GOLD STANDARD. Mister Castle tonight’s final trick is that this match has no disqualifications…now ring the damn bell!”
AMARA SINGH:
ALEXIS SUGUITAN:
Nick Castle hadn’t become the Senior Official in an organization such as FAWN by just listening to a perpetual duplicity engine like Portia Ophelia VanBuren the 4th. He tilted his head toward Bethany’s skybox, the zebra’s gaze ever so slightly judgmental. Christian must’ve caught it even at long range because she smiled sweetly and rolled a hand toward Portia as if to say, ‘You heard the lady.’ Careful to keep his reproach strictly internal, Nick turned to the Timekeeper and called for an official start to this athletically sanctioned mugging.
In motion the instant the bell sounded, Singh & Suguitan focused their attention on Charlie with a double handful of hair that hauled the knock-kneed champ to her feet in a hateful stereo tug. No DQ or not, Portia’s golden terrors shifted their hands to Dawson’s wrists, then pivoted her toward an empty swath of ring and sent her bustling to the ropes with a tandem Irish Whip. More than a little muzzy after the Forearm Smash and DDT blitzkrieg, Charlie made the journey and return trip on autopilot, the stupefied Sweetheart only vaguely aware that Alexis had stepped clear of her partner. This revelation was still flitting through her brain when the Bollywood Bombshell dipped low, caught Dawson with a shoulder in the belly and cinched both arms ‘round her upper thighs. Just like that Amara was up on tiptoe, an extremely aggressive en pointe that saw her spin a half circle and drop to her knees to THAWHUMP Charlie to the deck with a Spinebuster!
SPINEBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=MSwnRfnji8o
Flashing a merciless smile as the base of Charlie’s skull bounced offa the thinly-sheathed plywood, Amara slid back a bit to collect the Desert Darling’s boots in both hands. Then she was on her feet again, hands locked with the champ’s shins snugged beneath her armpits. “The reign of peasants is over.” the former Eurasian Champion cooed. “Tonight begins a new Golden Era.” With that she jerked Dawson into an ungainly headstand and simply plowed forward until Charlie was stretched out on her belly with the challenger sinking deep, deep, DEEP into a Cawnpore Crab!
CAWNPORE CRAB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=NgjA6tZ5aeQ
Dawson yowled to life at once, the flummoxed fighter frantically reaching for the ropes, then her own hair to better spread out the pa--THWHUNK!
Alexis Suguitan introduced herself in the most merciless way possible, the Penthouse Panther coming off the ropes full speed ahead to power a vertical leap that ended with the point of her right knee slamming into the back of Dawson’s head! Charlie jolted nastily while Alexis simply somersaulted clear of the crime scene to return to verticality brushing invisible dust from one shoulder.
“Another, if you would Alexis.” Amara teased while leaaaaaaaaaning back on her hold. “I believe the little peasant wants some more.”
“So do I.” Suguitan hissed before running the ropes a second time. Alexis’ second leap was as flawless as the first, but instead of dropping the knee she ‘thwhumped!’ both boots down beside Charlie’s noggin, then pressed the toe of her left boot against the Sweetheart’s vulnerable noggin and grrrrrrrrrrrrround it back and forth like she was crushing a particularly offensive insect.
“TRICK OR TREAT, ASSHOLES!” Suguitan bellowed to the crowd with her arms stretched wide. “DID YOU MISS USSNNNGGGHH!”
The brunette got her answer in the form of a Dropkick delivered to her cheek courtesy of one Skye Mitchell. The shot sent Alexis stumbling toward one corner while the galvanized champ landed on her belly directly beside the Golden Empress. “You filthy little brat.” Singh tossed Charlie’s legs aside and rose to her full height. “You’ll pay for defying NNNNGGGHHH!” Mitchell popped up like the mat was a trampoline and flicked out her right leg to THWHACK that foot across the back of Amara’s skull!
JUMPING ENZUGIRI:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=DyS48LsOiNQ
Singh crumpled to one knee, pushed up and staggered away from Skye, leaving the Lil’est Mitchell to hone in on Alexis Suguitan. Crossing the canvas between ‘em in the blink of an eye, Skye sprang onto the big brunette’s shoulders, locked her ankles and torqued her hips to take the one-time Associate down with a Poisoned ‘RaNO!
Showing a knowledge of their opponent’s tactics that gave lie to the improvised nature of their attack, Suguitan wrapped her arms around Mitchell’s shins and leaned forward to remain rooted to the canvas while the champ ended up draped down her attacker’s back in an awkward handstand that saw Skye’s fingertips straining to find purchase on the mat. “Nice try, shrimp.” Alexis muttered as she stalked closer to the corner. “But nice isn’t going to save you on a night like this.” The trussed Tar Heel offered some brand of reply, alas it didn’t make it beyond the first syllable before Suguitan snapped forward and down which in turn whipped her sweet burden up, over and down, Skye’s worried, wide-eyed mug BWUUUNGING off the top turnbuckle with whiplash-inducing force.
INVERTED ALABAMA SLAM:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wne14R67pHw
Mitchell’s legs gave out on impact, but her arms dropped fortuitously over the top rope, thus preventing an ungainly penance against the middle buckle. Now whether this was fortuitous for the champions or the challengers was promptly answered when Suguitan grabbed Skye by one shoulder and spun her around to face the rest of the ring. A glance over one shoulder and then the Penthouse Panther stepped aside to clear the path for her partner, Amara rushing in like a golden bronze freight train to TWHWHUMP Mitchell against the buckles with a sternum-crushing Avalanche Splash.
“Feel that, little girl?” Singh purred in her prey’s ear. “That’s the dustbin of history creaking open to accept you and the other piece of candy-coated trash.”
She didn’t wait for a response, rather she grabbed Mitchell by the scruff of the neck, twisted into the champ and hurled her out of the corner at a high rate of speed to-- ‘OOOOOHHHHHHHHH!’ rose the groan of sympathetic anguish from the Basement Dwellers when Skye ran headlong into a Discus Lariat from Alexis that had all the charm of razorblade slipped inside a candy apple.
The blow turned Skye inside out, yet somehow the Lil’est Mitchell pushed to one knee and--
“Avert your gaze, urchin.” Amara demanded as she stepped in and worked her head beneath Mitchell’s right arm while simultaneously hooking her own right arm across the champ’s chest. With her free (left) hand, she reached across the small of Skye’s back, caught hold of her left wrist and bent it up between her shoulders in a Hammerlock. Sparing a look at Alexis, Amara asked, “Would you mind?”
“Not at all.” Suguitan rounded on her heel and ran the ropes, Portia’s Thrilla from Manila shrieking down her own back-trail to THWHONK a Knee Trembler into the back of Mitchell’s skull which in turn prompted Singh to snap down and back, the Bollywood Bombshell laying out with all her weight to SPIKE the crown of Skye’s skull into the canvas!
AVERT YOUR GAZE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=GckG47nyzQ4
The move that’d soon be known far and wide as ‘Avert Your Gaze’ left Skye Mitchell slopped out flat on her back with the Gold Standard looming over her, Amara and Alexis licking their chops while they contemplated--
“WATCH OUT FOR THE OTHER JERSEY!” Portia shouted from the floor just as Charlie Dawson leapt from the apron to the top rope. Swinging their attention to the remaining Sweetheart, Singh and Suguitan got a perfect view of the Springboard Crossbody coming their way and as a show of appreciation they… strolled off in opposite directions, leaving Charlie to THA-WHAM down flat on the recently vacated canvas.
Smirking at the increasingly deflated atmosphere in the Madhouse basement, Alexis strolled back to Dawson, caught a huge handful of hair and hauled her up into a Front Facelock. “I think that’s enough treats for these brats.” she told Amara.
Singh’s answering grin was nothing short of terrifying. “Tricks from now on, then.”
That was all the signal Alexis needed to muscle the weary blonde up for what would’ve been a Vertical Suplex if she hadn’t stopped at three o’clock to drape Dawson’s ankles over Sing’s right shoulder. Gold Standard held the position while they looked to Portia, who offered her new duo a benevolent smile. Then Alexis snapped down and back for another thunderous DDT, a Golden Spike in fact, one that went right through the collective heart of Sweetheart Nation.
GOLDEN SPIKE @ 1:32
www.youtube.com/watch?v=F1VCjtvJzb0
Suguitan immediately spun to one knee, crawled over to the starfished blonde and settled her gold-sheathed glutes atop her mug in a snug Reverse Face Sit. It was unquestionably a pin, so Castle moved in to make the count, but he drew back when Alexis wedged her boots against the sides of Charlie’s head and pushed up just enough to keep a shoulder off the mat.
“Good, that’s PERFECT, Alexis!” VanBuren praised Suguitan’s application with a golf clap. “This doesn’t end until the two of you say it does.”
While Alexis warmed up her refurbished 911, Amara stalked over to Skye Mitchell and shoveled her onto her belly with a nudge from one imperious boot. Working with an urgency that seemed utterly misplaced given their dominance thus far, Singh dropped into a squat, caught hold of the North Carolinian’s elbows and yanked ’em off the mat.
“You will remember my name, peasant.” the Bombshell almost whispered. “You’ll ALL remember my name.”
Prophecy delivered, she dropped into a seat in the small of Skye’s back, draped the brunette’s arms over the thighs and secured the Chinlock for a truly hateful application of the Camel Clutch!
CAMEL CLUTCH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=USM4dls7pGI
“AAAAAAAAAAWWWWWW GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWD!” Mitchell broke more hearts than she stole with that piteous wail. “STAAAAAAAAHHHHP! CHARLIE! CHARLIE, HELP MEEERRRRRGGGHHH!” Amara drew her knotted fists over Skye’s mouth and scrubbed back and forth to effectively snuff the champ’s caterwauling.
“Charlie can’t help you, bytch.” Alexis snickered as the smothering Sweetheart burbled against the underside of her golden briefs. “She’s got her own problems.”
Everyone knew it was coming, but forewarned wasn’t always forearmed, as evidenced by the resounding groan from those assembled when Suguitan fashioned her right hand into a spade and buried it deep in the center of Dawson’s blue briefs.
“That’s it, dig and tear, dig and tear!” Portia called. “Grab your own wrist for extra leverage, ’Lexis! Lean over and press down with all your weight! Make the little Jersey scream! Make her BEG YOU to surrender those Tag Titles!” Gripping her right wrist in her left hand, just as Baby advised, Alexis hunkered over and really began to squeeeeeeeeeeze.
“You heard, Baby.” she hissed to the sobbing blonde. “Beg. Beg for mercy, sweetheart.”
The doe-eyed blonde howled in agony, though most of the volume was muffled by Alexis’ undercarriage. Portia watched with the satisfaction of a teacher enjoying her pupil’s work and knowing she will profit from it just as much.
“Make your point, ladies,” VanBuren shouted over the jeering. “And make these Jerseys footnotes in FAWN history.”
Suguitan continued to bear down, ‘chewing’ on Charlie’s crotch while cutting off her foe’s air supply with her perfectly-positioned ass. Meanwhile, Amara threatened to snap the spine of the Lil’est Mitchell just because she could.
The shocking return of three of the most vile interlopers ever to darken FAWN’s door still had many in the crowd too stunned to react as vociferously as they otherwise might, but Skylar wasn’t among them. Her head pointed to the rafters, Singh RIPPING back on Mitchell’s backbone, the diminutive brunette wailed in agony from the most devastating Camel in the industry.
The Indian empress fell into a bridge to curl Skye to gruesome levels, some in the front rows pleading with Castle to stop the fight, or more accurately the mauling. The man in stripes didn’t get the chance. With some vertebrae likely displaced already, a teary eyed Skylar tapped Amara’s golden-brown thigh weakly but noticeably. The eagle-eyed Nick hopped to his feet and enthusiastically called for the bell.
But the Gold Standard did not relent!
Singh continued her torture at Portia’s urging. VanBuren then called to Castle.
“You incompetent. The blonde’s legal!”
Suddenly unsure of himself, he motioned to the Timekeeper to hold his call. He looked to the fading fight of Dawson, arms weakly flopping, no seeming direction, the pain and smothering combining to leave her a helpless pile of loser.
“No,” Castle murmured to himself, watching Alexis continue her white-knuckle grip on Charlie’s kitty until Dawson was limp, the platinum blonde overcome in more ways than one.
“Hell no!” Nick added, this time insisting the bell bring this massacre to an end.
It chimes for the end of the Sweethearts’ reign, but Alexis and Amara wanted the history their leader demanded. The Filipino catfighter released her 911, unclenching her claw and peeling her tawny backside off the greasy face of the unconscious Dawson. She moved to Singh’s continued Clutch and leapt above, coming DOWN IN A SPLASH atop the curled Skye, surely putting a crease in the brunette’s spinal column, perhaps permanently.
The crowd groans, some turning away from the vicious double-team. They booed their lungs sore as Amara finally let the broken Mitchell flop into a facedown spreadeagle, motionless.
Portia barely beat the EMTs into the ring. Baby, having already collected the tag gold, congratulated her team and presented the prizes as the Announcer made it official.
“Your winners and NEW Tag Team Champions…Amara Singh, Alexis Suguitan…the Gold Standard!”
“As promised,” VanBuren assured her charges.
Singh and Suguitan raised the belts high to ear-splitting hatred from the FAWNatics. As they enjoyed the spoils of war, Portia dropped into a Reverse Face Sit of Dawson and took a victory lap with her own 911, apparently intent on making sure that Charlie, like Skye, would never be seen in the organization again.
She rode the blonde vigorously as medical personnel carefully slid Mitchell onto a board then lifted and placed the diminutive, dark-haired Sweetheart on a stretcher likely headed to some Orlando ICU.
Baby punctuated her facial scrubbing with a punch to Charlie’s alabaster midriff. Receiving no response, she dismounted and called out to the paramedics.
“You have one over her too.”
VanBuren rose and slid between her team, lifting the inner arms high as Amara and Alexis pushed the belts to the sky on the outside.
Apparently it was time for the tag team division to be brought to a new level, one that would not involve ‘petulant children’ like America’s Sweethearts. No. This set of champions set a new standard.
A Gold Standard.
Having proven themselves yet again on FAWN’s biggest stage, America’s Sweethearts living up to their name and their titles at Mania, remained FAWN Tag Team Champions, the beloved blonde and brunette standing at the pinnacle. Besting the Amazonian bridesmaids of Valerie Stipanovic and Mariel McGinty, Leggs, Inc, all questions of the Hearts had been answered by now. But Bethany Christian must’ve had another in mind if she demanded her merch moneymakers head to the squared circle early.
The FAWNatics murmured with confusion when Taylor Swift’s ‘Style’ emerged from the speakers, the masses instantly curious at why their champions were claiming the ring first.
STYLE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=-CmadmM5cOk
Well beyond worrying about one of the commissioner’s surprises at this point, the hottest team in the organization shared a pair of high fives and headed into the roar of the crowd beyond the curtain.
A moment later, a spotlight shined on a stunning, dimpled platinum blonde as she burst through, the crowd raising the decibels to outrageous levels.
CHARLIE DAWSON:
The gorgeous grappler raised a gaudy gold belt high with one hand and cupped the other to an ear as she moved to center stage. She dared the throng to get louder and, when the blushing blonde dropped to one knee to show the capacity crowd her partner standing behind, the SweetHeartAttack was claiming most of the standing room only crowd like a full-on coronary.
The frenetic Lil’est Mitchell, tag belt around her slender waist, waved her arms upward, beckoning the FAWNatics to keep the love coming. Charlie, having strapped her belt in place, raises her hands high and the babyfaced brunette laced fingers with her fellow titleholder.
SKYE MITCHELL:
Skye pulled her partner up and they pivoted into an adorable hug, their foreheads pressing together, words exchanged under the roar of the AHE crowd, the beloved duo on an unforgettable roll that lifted both from the edge of jobberdom to the highest reaches of FAWN fame.
Charlie and Skye broke from their huddle and headed for the ring, blonde and brunette making it a point to slap every single hand offered their way, becoming title holders in no way affecting the love for their supporters.
Reaching the squared circle, the Darling of the Desert and the Lil’est Mitchell slid under the bottom rope, sprang to their feet and unzipped their hot pink hoodies. Charlie shrugged hers off to reveal a light blue fightin’ two piece that, in spite of its somewhat modest cut, still managed to raise the blood pressure of quite a few spectators. For her part, Skye sported a royal purple lycra bikini top and short shorts, with white pads and boots, the old school fans no doubt noting the distinct similarity in Skylar’s togs with the gear worn by her older sister Cynthia at the beginning of her career.
The Announcer had a hell of a time raising his voice over Tay-Tay’s and the adoring multitudes, but he did his best as Charlie and Skye took a lap around the ring, pointing and clapping at their admirers.
“Tonight’s next match is scheduled for one fall with a thirty minute time limit and is for the FAWN Tag Team Championships. First, at a total combined weight of two-hundred and twenty-six pounds ... Charlie Dawson... Skylar Mitchell, Innocence Unleashed and the undisputed FAWN Tag Team Champions…AMMMEEERRRIIICCCAAA’S SWWWEEEETTTHHHEEEAAARRRTTTSSS!”
Charlotte and Skylar met each other mid-ring. They shared a high-five as their music faded. From one side of the arena “SWEEET” came booming and it was met by an equally loud “HEARTS” from the opposite direction. Dawson and Mitchell led the chant war, beaming and chuckling. The crowd, unstoppable, continued while the champs moved to their corner, unclip their belts and handed over their prizes for safekeeping.
Astounded the chant continued when they returned to the middle, if anything louder than before, the champs waved to their countless devotees, the Hearts acting like the favorites they’re now considered to be.
But when the pounding, ominous beginning of Disturbed’s 'Down With the Sickness' filled the arena, all eyes moved to the upper stage.
DOWN WITH THE SICKNESS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=09LTT0xwdfw
The arena was suddenly bathed in inky blackness. But instead of a pin spotlight illuminating the long-time boss woman of FAWN, the Tron cuts to a live shot from the heart of the executive box, high above the confused champions, her music fading.
Seated behind a giant mahogany desk, an impeccably dressed Bethany Christian smiled as she rifled through a set of papers, finally placing her signature on the bottom page before looking up at the lens capturing the moment.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Bethany began.
The FAWNatics didn’t need more said from the businesswoman to erupt in anger for keeping their heroines waiting, the Hearts ready to claim another ‘W’.
But Christian would not be swayed. She waited patiently, finally standing behind her desk, holding the signed page aloft.
“If you cretins are done, perhaps I can make my announcement.”
The jeers erupted once more within the darkness. This time Bethany did not wait.
“SHUT YOUR DAMN MOUTHS! I’m talking to your girl scouts.”
The lights emerged over the ring and the ring alone, Bethany’s visage on the ‘Tron hovering above. The statuesque brunette still awed most with her appearance, her long, muscular frame as impressive as ever in a tight blue, pinstripe suit and skirt
“Hello ladies. Welcome to All Hallows Evil.”
Skye and Charlie cheerily waved toward the ‘Tron, playing along, confident they could take anyone Bethany scrounged up in the back.
“Tonight’s tag match is one of my own creation. It’s what I call a Trick-or-Treat match. Don’t bother asking which you get. Instead, I’ll let my special guest explain.”
The screen flickered to black, only the ring and its occupants remaining flooded in illumination for long seconds, the Hearts increasingly agitated.
…UNTIL…
The crashing chords of 'The World is Not Enough' from Garbage echoed through the arena, every single person collectively losing their shit as the erstwhile anthem of FAWN’s most insufferable heiress enveloped every single soul.
THE WORLD IS NOT ENOUGH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=8C5NLfYdZaE
“I know how to hurt. I know how to heal. I know what to show and what to conceal.”
“I know when to talk. And I know when to touch. No one ever died from wanting too much…”
The crowd was at fever pitch, wondering if it could be true!?
A spotlight blinked into a long streak of light as Shirley Manson pronounces “The World Is Not Enough” and, at the end of the beam…YES. GOD DAMN IT. YES.
PORTIA FRICKIN VANBUREN THE FOURTH!
The strawberry blonde patrician smirked surreptitiously, reveling in the amazement she felt radiating from the concealed hordes. No boos yet. The crowd was simply too stunned and yes, perhaps delighted at seeing an icon return.
And VanBuren’s music was not the only the classic version of Fortune’s Favorite. The Hamptons and Monaco native looked flawless in her immaculate, old-school white tennis togs, namely a form-fitting, Louis Vuitton tank top and short skirt with white socks and thousand-dollar tennies. In her right hand, Precious, her beloved polo mallet, VanBuren showing she could still be sporty with or without equine accompaniment.
In the other hand, unsurprisingly, a microphone she drew to her ruby lips.
“I believe Miss Christian told you Jerseys to shut your festering pieholes!”
Only now do the first boos flow freely, quickly before becoming a torrent, Baby enjoying every ounce of hatred, seemingly feeling back in her special place.
“Thank you for the gracious welcome back, swamp scum.”
Portia hadn’t lost a bit of her acerbic tongue and VanBuren turned it toward the Sweethearts as she slowly sashayed toward the ring.
“And to think, the two of you are champions in the organization I MADE FAMOUS. It makes me want to vomit. What’s become of this place when two little Jersey trollops are dominating the roster?”
Portia shook her head, disgusted. In the ring, both Skye and Charlie, without amplifiers, motioned VanBuren to join them and find out.
“No, no, no, sweethearts.”
Baby stopped to consider.
“Damn. I meant that as an insult but it’s actually your team’s name. In any case. Ladies. I’ve already accomplished everything in that ring. But both your trick AND your treat have not. Their first task? To eliminate you from FAWN existence.”
Portia pivoted and swept an arm behind her, toward the stage. Mitchell and Dawson move to the corner nearest VanBuren to gaze upon the stooges she now apparently employed.
But instead of appearing on the now flood-lit platform, there was a rustle from behind. Two black-hooded figures leapt over the steel barricade, slid into the ring, and delivered bombastic Forearms to the back of the champions’ skulls.
The women turned the dazed Sweethearts toward them with tugs of a shoulder. Stereo Toe Kicks, doubled the young blood at their waists. The intruders corralled each champ in a Front Facelock before simultaneously PLOWING the crown of Skye and Charlie’s heads into the deck with Spike DDTs, Dawson and Mitchell flopping to wide, motionless spreadeagles next to each other.
The trespassers scrambled to their feet and rip off their hoodies casting them aside, each golden-brown woman in sparkling golden two-piece battle gear. The crowd could barely believe their eyes as Portia raised the stick to her lips.
“Welcome back Amara Singh and Alexis Suguitan…the GOLD STANDARD. Mister Castle tonight’s final trick is that this match has no disqualifications…now ring the damn bell!”
AMARA SINGH:
ALEXIS SUGUITAN:
Nick Castle hadn’t become the Senior Official in an organization such as FAWN by just listening to a perpetual duplicity engine like Portia Ophelia VanBuren the 4th. He tilted his head toward Bethany’s skybox, the zebra’s gaze ever so slightly judgmental. Christian must’ve caught it even at long range because she smiled sweetly and rolled a hand toward Portia as if to say, ‘You heard the lady.’ Careful to keep his reproach strictly internal, Nick turned to the Timekeeper and called for an official start to this athletically sanctioned mugging.
In motion the instant the bell sounded, Singh & Suguitan focused their attention on Charlie with a double handful of hair that hauled the knock-kneed champ to her feet in a hateful stereo tug. No DQ or not, Portia’s golden terrors shifted their hands to Dawson’s wrists, then pivoted her toward an empty swath of ring and sent her bustling to the ropes with a tandem Irish Whip. More than a little muzzy after the Forearm Smash and DDT blitzkrieg, Charlie made the journey and return trip on autopilot, the stupefied Sweetheart only vaguely aware that Alexis had stepped clear of her partner. This revelation was still flitting through her brain when the Bollywood Bombshell dipped low, caught Dawson with a shoulder in the belly and cinched both arms ‘round her upper thighs. Just like that Amara was up on tiptoe, an extremely aggressive en pointe that saw her spin a half circle and drop to her knees to THAWHUMP Charlie to the deck with a Spinebuster!
SPINEBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=MSwnRfnji8o
Flashing a merciless smile as the base of Charlie’s skull bounced offa the thinly-sheathed plywood, Amara slid back a bit to collect the Desert Darling’s boots in both hands. Then she was on her feet again, hands locked with the champ’s shins snugged beneath her armpits. “The reign of peasants is over.” the former Eurasian Champion cooed. “Tonight begins a new Golden Era.” With that she jerked Dawson into an ungainly headstand and simply plowed forward until Charlie was stretched out on her belly with the challenger sinking deep, deep, DEEP into a Cawnpore Crab!
CAWNPORE CRAB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=NgjA6tZ5aeQ
Dawson yowled to life at once, the flummoxed fighter frantically reaching for the ropes, then her own hair to better spread out the pa--THWHUNK!
Alexis Suguitan introduced herself in the most merciless way possible, the Penthouse Panther coming off the ropes full speed ahead to power a vertical leap that ended with the point of her right knee slamming into the back of Dawson’s head! Charlie jolted nastily while Alexis simply somersaulted clear of the crime scene to return to verticality brushing invisible dust from one shoulder.
“Another, if you would Alexis.” Amara teased while leaaaaaaaaaning back on her hold. “I believe the little peasant wants some more.”
“So do I.” Suguitan hissed before running the ropes a second time. Alexis’ second leap was as flawless as the first, but instead of dropping the knee she ‘thwhumped!’ both boots down beside Charlie’s noggin, then pressed the toe of her left boot against the Sweetheart’s vulnerable noggin and grrrrrrrrrrrrround it back and forth like she was crushing a particularly offensive insect.
“TRICK OR TREAT, ASSHOLES!” Suguitan bellowed to the crowd with her arms stretched wide. “DID YOU MISS USSNNNGGGHH!”
The brunette got her answer in the form of a Dropkick delivered to her cheek courtesy of one Skye Mitchell. The shot sent Alexis stumbling toward one corner while the galvanized champ landed on her belly directly beside the Golden Empress. “You filthy little brat.” Singh tossed Charlie’s legs aside and rose to her full height. “You’ll pay for defying NNNNGGGHHH!” Mitchell popped up like the mat was a trampoline and flicked out her right leg to THWHACK that foot across the back of Amara’s skull!
JUMPING ENZUGIRI:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=DyS48LsOiNQ
Singh crumpled to one knee, pushed up and staggered away from Skye, leaving the Lil’est Mitchell to hone in on Alexis Suguitan. Crossing the canvas between ‘em in the blink of an eye, Skye sprang onto the big brunette’s shoulders, locked her ankles and torqued her hips to take the one-time Associate down with a Poisoned ‘RaNO!
Showing a knowledge of their opponent’s tactics that gave lie to the improvised nature of their attack, Suguitan wrapped her arms around Mitchell’s shins and leaned forward to remain rooted to the canvas while the champ ended up draped down her attacker’s back in an awkward handstand that saw Skye’s fingertips straining to find purchase on the mat. “Nice try, shrimp.” Alexis muttered as she stalked closer to the corner. “But nice isn’t going to save you on a night like this.” The trussed Tar Heel offered some brand of reply, alas it didn’t make it beyond the first syllable before Suguitan snapped forward and down which in turn whipped her sweet burden up, over and down, Skye’s worried, wide-eyed mug BWUUUNGING off the top turnbuckle with whiplash-inducing force.
INVERTED ALABAMA SLAM:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wne14R67pHw
Mitchell’s legs gave out on impact, but her arms dropped fortuitously over the top rope, thus preventing an ungainly penance against the middle buckle. Now whether this was fortuitous for the champions or the challengers was promptly answered when Suguitan grabbed Skye by one shoulder and spun her around to face the rest of the ring. A glance over one shoulder and then the Penthouse Panther stepped aside to clear the path for her partner, Amara rushing in like a golden bronze freight train to TWHWHUMP Mitchell against the buckles with a sternum-crushing Avalanche Splash.
“Feel that, little girl?” Singh purred in her prey’s ear. “That’s the dustbin of history creaking open to accept you and the other piece of candy-coated trash.”
She didn’t wait for a response, rather she grabbed Mitchell by the scruff of the neck, twisted into the champ and hurled her out of the corner at a high rate of speed to-- ‘OOOOOHHHHHHHHH!’ rose the groan of sympathetic anguish from the Basement Dwellers when Skye ran headlong into a Discus Lariat from Alexis that had all the charm of razorblade slipped inside a candy apple.
The blow turned Skye inside out, yet somehow the Lil’est Mitchell pushed to one knee and--
“Avert your gaze, urchin.” Amara demanded as she stepped in and worked her head beneath Mitchell’s right arm while simultaneously hooking her own right arm across the champ’s chest. With her free (left) hand, she reached across the small of Skye’s back, caught hold of her left wrist and bent it up between her shoulders in a Hammerlock. Sparing a look at Alexis, Amara asked, “Would you mind?”
“Not at all.” Suguitan rounded on her heel and ran the ropes, Portia’s Thrilla from Manila shrieking down her own back-trail to THWHONK a Knee Trembler into the back of Mitchell’s skull which in turn prompted Singh to snap down and back, the Bollywood Bombshell laying out with all her weight to SPIKE the crown of Skye’s skull into the canvas!
AVERT YOUR GAZE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=GckG47nyzQ4
The move that’d soon be known far and wide as ‘Avert Your Gaze’ left Skye Mitchell slopped out flat on her back with the Gold Standard looming over her, Amara and Alexis licking their chops while they contemplated--
“WATCH OUT FOR THE OTHER JERSEY!” Portia shouted from the floor just as Charlie Dawson leapt from the apron to the top rope. Swinging their attention to the remaining Sweetheart, Singh and Suguitan got a perfect view of the Springboard Crossbody coming their way and as a show of appreciation they… strolled off in opposite directions, leaving Charlie to THA-WHAM down flat on the recently vacated canvas.
Smirking at the increasingly deflated atmosphere in the Madhouse basement, Alexis strolled back to Dawson, caught a huge handful of hair and hauled her up into a Front Facelock. “I think that’s enough treats for these brats.” she told Amara.
Singh’s answering grin was nothing short of terrifying. “Tricks from now on, then.”
That was all the signal Alexis needed to muscle the weary blonde up for what would’ve been a Vertical Suplex if she hadn’t stopped at three o’clock to drape Dawson’s ankles over Sing’s right shoulder. Gold Standard held the position while they looked to Portia, who offered her new duo a benevolent smile. Then Alexis snapped down and back for another thunderous DDT, a Golden Spike in fact, one that went right through the collective heart of Sweetheart Nation.
GOLDEN SPIKE @ 1:32
www.youtube.com/watch?v=F1VCjtvJzb0
Suguitan immediately spun to one knee, crawled over to the starfished blonde and settled her gold-sheathed glutes atop her mug in a snug Reverse Face Sit. It was unquestionably a pin, so Castle moved in to make the count, but he drew back when Alexis wedged her boots against the sides of Charlie’s head and pushed up just enough to keep a shoulder off the mat.
“Good, that’s PERFECT, Alexis!” VanBuren praised Suguitan’s application with a golf clap. “This doesn’t end until the two of you say it does.”
While Alexis warmed up her refurbished 911, Amara stalked over to Skye Mitchell and shoveled her onto her belly with a nudge from one imperious boot. Working with an urgency that seemed utterly misplaced given their dominance thus far, Singh dropped into a squat, caught hold of the North Carolinian’s elbows and yanked ’em off the mat.
“You will remember my name, peasant.” the Bombshell almost whispered. “You’ll ALL remember my name.”
Prophecy delivered, she dropped into a seat in the small of Skye’s back, draped the brunette’s arms over the thighs and secured the Chinlock for a truly hateful application of the Camel Clutch!
CAMEL CLUTCH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=USM4dls7pGI
“AAAAAAAAAAWWWWWW GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWD!” Mitchell broke more hearts than she stole with that piteous wail. “STAAAAAAAAHHHHP! CHARLIE! CHARLIE, HELP MEEERRRRRGGGHHH!” Amara drew her knotted fists over Skye’s mouth and scrubbed back and forth to effectively snuff the champ’s caterwauling.
“Charlie can’t help you, bytch.” Alexis snickered as the smothering Sweetheart burbled against the underside of her golden briefs. “She’s got her own problems.”
Everyone knew it was coming, but forewarned wasn’t always forearmed, as evidenced by the resounding groan from those assembled when Suguitan fashioned her right hand into a spade and buried it deep in the center of Dawson’s blue briefs.
“That’s it, dig and tear, dig and tear!” Portia called. “Grab your own wrist for extra leverage, ’Lexis! Lean over and press down with all your weight! Make the little Jersey scream! Make her BEG YOU to surrender those Tag Titles!” Gripping her right wrist in her left hand, just as Baby advised, Alexis hunkered over and really began to squeeeeeeeeeeze.
“You heard, Baby.” she hissed to the sobbing blonde. “Beg. Beg for mercy, sweetheart.”
The doe-eyed blonde howled in agony, though most of the volume was muffled by Alexis’ undercarriage. Portia watched with the satisfaction of a teacher enjoying her pupil’s work and knowing she will profit from it just as much.
“Make your point, ladies,” VanBuren shouted over the jeering. “And make these Jerseys footnotes in FAWN history.”
Suguitan continued to bear down, ‘chewing’ on Charlie’s crotch while cutting off her foe’s air supply with her perfectly-positioned ass. Meanwhile, Amara threatened to snap the spine of the Lil’est Mitchell just because she could.
The shocking return of three of the most vile interlopers ever to darken FAWN’s door still had many in the crowd too stunned to react as vociferously as they otherwise might, but Skylar wasn’t among them. Her head pointed to the rafters, Singh RIPPING back on Mitchell’s backbone, the diminutive brunette wailed in agony from the most devastating Camel in the industry.
The Indian empress fell into a bridge to curl Skye to gruesome levels, some in the front rows pleading with Castle to stop the fight, or more accurately the mauling. The man in stripes didn’t get the chance. With some vertebrae likely displaced already, a teary eyed Skylar tapped Amara’s golden-brown thigh weakly but noticeably. The eagle-eyed Nick hopped to his feet and enthusiastically called for the bell.
But the Gold Standard did not relent!
Singh continued her torture at Portia’s urging. VanBuren then called to Castle.
“You incompetent. The blonde’s legal!”
Suddenly unsure of himself, he motioned to the Timekeeper to hold his call. He looked to the fading fight of Dawson, arms weakly flopping, no seeming direction, the pain and smothering combining to leave her a helpless pile of loser.
“No,” Castle murmured to himself, watching Alexis continue her white-knuckle grip on Charlie’s kitty until Dawson was limp, the platinum blonde overcome in more ways than one.
“Hell no!” Nick added, this time insisting the bell bring this massacre to an end.
It chimes for the end of the Sweethearts’ reign, but Alexis and Amara wanted the history their leader demanded. The Filipino catfighter released her 911, unclenching her claw and peeling her tawny backside off the greasy face of the unconscious Dawson. She moved to Singh’s continued Clutch and leapt above, coming DOWN IN A SPLASH atop the curled Skye, surely putting a crease in the brunette’s spinal column, perhaps permanently.
The crowd groans, some turning away from the vicious double-team. They booed their lungs sore as Amara finally let the broken Mitchell flop into a facedown spreadeagle, motionless.
Portia barely beat the EMTs into the ring. Baby, having already collected the tag gold, congratulated her team and presented the prizes as the Announcer made it official.
“Your winners and NEW Tag Team Champions…Amara Singh, Alexis Suguitan…the Gold Standard!”
“As promised,” VanBuren assured her charges.
Singh and Suguitan raised the belts high to ear-splitting hatred from the FAWNatics. As they enjoyed the spoils of war, Portia dropped into a Reverse Face Sit of Dawson and took a victory lap with her own 911, apparently intent on making sure that Charlie, like Skye, would never be seen in the organization again.
She rode the blonde vigorously as medical personnel carefully slid Mitchell onto a board then lifted and placed the diminutive, dark-haired Sweetheart on a stretcher likely headed to some Orlando ICU.
Baby punctuated her facial scrubbing with a punch to Charlie’s alabaster midriff. Receiving no response, she dismounted and called out to the paramedics.
“You have one over her too.”
VanBuren rose and slid between her team, lifting the inner arms high as Amara and Alexis pushed the belts to the sky on the outside.
Apparently it was time for the tag team division to be brought to a new level, one that would not involve ‘petulant children’ like America’s Sweethearts. No. This set of champions set a new standard.
A Gold Standard.