Post by hawkeye on Jan 8, 2020 0:21:04 GMT
“Ladies and gentlemen, it is now time for our Main Event! The following contest is scheduled for one fall with a thirty minute time limit and it is for the FAWN World Championship! Introducing first, she is the challenger, hailing from Jackson, Tennessee she stands at five feet ten inches tall and weighs in tonight at one hundred and forty-eight pounds, she is the Tennessee Terror, the Witch of Razorback Holler, please welcome HARLEY JO COLLINS!”
SHINE DOWN:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4xACHH5-QwY
HARLEY JO COLLINS:
A pleased roar from those assembled as Harley Jo Collins herownself pushed through the curtain of the FAWN Arena for the first time in nearly eight months. Acknowledging the raucous welcome with the faintest of nods, the Countrycidal Maniac produced a battered silver flask from a pocket of her well-worn overalls and toasted the battle ahead with a long pull. Ritual observed, she tucked the flask away and strolled down the aisle toward the squared circle.
Slowing to a stop when she reached the reached the foot of the steel steps, Collins touched a hand to one shoulder and undid the clasps on the overalls, leaving them in a puddle at her feet. Stripped to the essentials, she wore a black fightin’ rumble-kini with white pads and plain black boots. From there she slid under the bottom rope, pushed to her feet and strode to the middle of the ring where she stretched her arms wide to better show off that near six foot frame for the hard camera. Though she said nothing, the message was clear. Harley Jo Collins had proved she could carry the promotion’s workhorse title. Tonight she would prove she could carry the big gold belt with equal ease.
With the Tennessee Terror in the ring, hoping to end the Dream Season just a month after it’s begun, a long missing but still familiar burst of blazing white pyrotechnics erupted. The flawless light show filled the upper stage and, a split second behind, the opening chords of the classic ‘O Fortuna’ replace the blazing fireworks.
O FORTUNA:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=GD3VsesSBsw
Apparently, the Crimson Calamity that is or was Red Lisa has left building in perpetuity and the minimal following the feral version of The Dream had garnered is gone as well.
LISA DREAM:
The jeers of the FAWNatics rose to a crescendo along with the stirring music. The FAWN icon, a legend in various other wrestling organizations through the years as well, moved to center stage and absorbed the spotlight and the hatred, for why wouldn’t every single person in the crowd be jealous of perfection?
Certain she’s sent a chill down the spine of every Dreamophile and Dreamophobe in the house, Lisa beamed, the further proof of her flawlessness wrapping around her midriff, the FAWN World Championship belt evidence even the most obtuse could not avoid.
Satisfied with her bask, The Dream began her first champion’s promenade in many years, the Ultimate Image of Human Perfection moving gracefully down the ramp and aisle, then ascending the ring steps with all the surety of someone who’s known from birth she’s without a single shortcoming.
Lisa halted and took a long look around the unfriendly confines before sticking a leather-clad leg through and followed the cowskin-covered limb into the battleground.
The Luscious One moved to the middle, unfastens her belt, and raised it high with her right hand, even as the assembled continued to boo their lungs out, Lisa scoffing and scowling at the Wannadreams for their sad refusal to admit she‘s the perfect title holder.
Dream was clad in skin-tight, black leather; the champ wearing her customary sleeveless vest, cut to give her pert bosom room to breathe but otherwise covering her alabaster tummy, only a slight rim of skin showing. Her long, black cowhide pants reached down to her black boots, the Dreamophiles, again frustrated at not being able to view the flawless, alabaster stems of the Personification of Perfection. 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.
With Lisa moving to her corner, the announcer took his cue.
“And her opponent, from New York, New York, standing five feet six inches tall and weighing in at one hundred and seventeen pounds, the Ultimate Image of Human Perfection… and YOUR FAWN WORLD CHAMPION…Lisa Dream!”
The beautiful dark-haired Dream exchanged her title for a microphone from an attendant and moved back to the middle. Lisa showing silent disdain for the Dreamophobes until they quiet. She pulled a stick from hip to lips.
“There is no denying perfection,” Lisa informed, “and this sad, super-sized simpleton isn’t about to prove any differently.”
The crowd let Lisa Classic know they disagree.
“It’s been a long road home to remind you Wannadreams what a champion should be. Burlingame isn’t it. Neither is this.”
Dream waved an arm in Collins’ direction.
“Let the lesson of perfection begin.”
The Dream dropped the mic, turns and strolled back to her corner, ignoring both Harley Jo at her back and the animosity crowding in from all sides.
Lisa strode from her corner with the opening bell, though her approach to the challenger wasn’t anything one might deem ‘direct’. No, the Ultimate Image chose a languid stroll along the edge of the ring, then curled in and began to circle when Collins vacated her buckles some seconds thereafter. Harley Jo made no special effort to close on the smaller brunette, but her longer stride meant it happened sooner than later, or at least would have if Lisa hadn’t sped up to increase the gap.
“So how many jugs of that bilge-water hooch did you have to pass around at the Christmas Party to secure this particular bit of graft?” The Dream sneered. “Last time anyone saw your inbred ass you were getting your head caved in by that blonde sociopath, now here you are just waltzing into a World Title Match? That’s pathetic, even for a Wannadream.”
The corner of Harley Jo’s mouth curled in the whisper of a smile, her fingertips twitched in the ghost of a claw, but her eyes remained locked on the leather-clad brunette. “Not that it’s any of your damned business, but the ‘Shine only made an appearance [I[after[/I] Bethany had offered me a shot at your narrow, gutless ass.” Collins noted. “Additionally, is questioning my presence really your best play, considering they damned near had to throw you into that cell at the Madhouse and you only won thanks to unexpected taser provided by the very woman responsible for locking you up in the first pla--”
“SHUT YOUR FILTHY MOUTH!”
The Dream launched herself at HJC, those perfectly manicured nails flashing in search of the challenger’s eyes. T’was Collins’ boot she found instead, the lanky brunette skewering Lisa’s sternum with a Big Boot that might’ve taken her head off if it’d drifted a few inches higher. Lisa hit the deck and Harley Jo came down beside her, the Tennessee Terror draping herself across Dream’s stunned frame to collect the far leg in cover good for…
ONE!
The Dream didn’t just kick out, she careened out of the cover, Lisa scrambling from beneath the lanky Destroyer like the canvas was electrified. Regaining her composure the instant she’d created some breathing room, Lisa smoothed her hair back and sniffed, “You don’t know what you’re talking about, you six-toed cretin. I exposed Burlingame for the farce that she is. Blassenville’s little experiment only ensured we reached the inevitable conclusion that much fa--”
Collins came at her with a second boot, one aimed directly at the champion’s perfect chin. Her aim didn’t falter, but Lisa’s defenses proved Dreamy and she caught the Southerner’s ankle a couple inches shy of its target. The Golden Dream tossed Harley’s leg down like it was something she’d pulled up from the bottom of a river, then made Collins pay for such temerity by THWHACKING her across the chin with an Elbow Smash that swiveled Harley Jo’s head to the- the taller brunette’s head snapped back so quickly Lisa had both hands raised before she even started to clear off.
“Steady your nerves, Collins!” she ordered. “I know tensions can run high this time of year but there’s no need to HUURRRGHH!”
The Vicious Volunteer caught Dream by the throat with one hand and stuffed the other beneath the champ’s left armpit. Just like that she took two giant steps backward and twisted her torso from right to left, all the better to send Lisa hurtling through the air with a Biel Toss that brought her THAWHAMMING down flat on the canvas!
The Dream bounced to her feet, stumbled, then collapsed backward into the buckles and wrapped her arms around the top rope like it was a lifeline. “Keep her back, Castle!” Lisa demanded at once! “She’s got strength born of obvious moral turpitude! A degenerate like that has no place in the Dream’s OOOOFFFFFFHHHH!”
Harley Jo put a stop to that perfect sass by rushing into the corner to bury the overwhelmed champion beneath a hundred and forty so pounds of Southern Avalanche Splash. Helping herself to Lisa’s left wrist as she pressed a little tighter against the wheezing brunette, Collins murmured, “Believe me, I’d have much rather clawed that gold right outta the Ace’s snotty little tummy, but since you and the Doc zapped her into hiding I gotta have my fun with you instead.”
The Reflection of Perfection grumbled a reply of some sort (probably about how she was still in the ropes and thus immune to such rough treatment) that was summarily ignored so Harley Jo could sling her across the squared circle with another Irish Whip. Dream made the trip with Collins only a strides behind, meaning it was all the more impressive when the World Champ twisted ‘round and boosted herself into a seat on the top buckle with enough time to flick a stiff kick into the taller wrestler’s chin! HJC stumbled back a ways, allowing Lisa enough time to drop back to the-NEVER MIND!
Harley came for her again, forcing the Ultimate Image to hook both arms over the ropes so she could boost a last-second Mule Kick into the challenger’s chest! “What’s the matter Wannadream, don’t like the taste of my boots?” Lisa crowed as Collins reeled away from the corner. “Well get used to it! You’re gonna love ‘em by the time this match is--” Harley Jo tried a third approach and again The Dream was ready for her, this time with a perfectly-placed Basement Dropkick to Collins’ left thigh. The brunette’s legs went out from underneath and she tumbled into a throat-first landing across the second strand.
Most wrestlers would’ve been pleased to have their opponent at such a disadvantage, but Lisa couldn’t help but snort as she’d wanted to send the reprobate’s smug face into the thinly-padded steel. Even so, Lisa Dream knew how to make the best of even imperfect situations, which was why she wasted no time clambering onto the Southerner’s back. Anchored to the top rope with both hands, Lisa shifted her feet to the base of Collins’ neck and earned a grudging ‘OOOOOHHHHH!’ from the FAWNatics when she stood up and began to bounce up and down on the writhing challenger!
“YOU THINK THIS HILLBILLY CRETIN SCARES ME?” Dream bellowed to all those that dared decry her perfection. “SHE DOESN’T! SHE’S NOTHING BUT A SOAP BOX FROM ATOP WHICH I WILL PROCLAIM MY PERFECTION TO THE WOR--”
Get off her throat, Lisa!” Nick Castle barked. “She’s in the ropes!”
“Don’t EVER interrupt me, Wannadream!” Lisa scowled. “As I was saying--”
“ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!”
An exasperated Dream hopped down from her mount, claimed a double handful of hair and dragged Collins to her feet as roughly as she could. Bundling the bigger brunette back-first in the corner, Lisa climbed onto the middle rope, helped herself to a double handful of hair and wrenched the Tennessean’s head back at an awkward angle. “Don’t think those vestigial fingers and toes are going to help you tonight, opossum face.” she purred. “Nothing will save you from my perfection.” With that she freed her right hand and promptly returned it to Harley Jo’s forehead in the form of a straight right hand.
Powerless to overcome the ingrained compulsion, those assembled for Season’s Beatings counted off ‘ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! SIX! SEVEN! EIGHT! NIOOOOOOOOHHHHHH!”
The Witch of Razorback Holler reached up with both hands and grabbed hold of the champ’s throat. Dark eyes bulging in surprise, Dream swatted and thrashed when Harley Jo stepped out of the corner, but she didn’t regain any traction until Collins swung ‘round in a half circle and set her down on the top turnbuckle.
“BREAK!” Lisa demanded at once. Danged if Harley didn’t let her loose at once, the big brunette backing off with her hands raised high overhead. “Astounding.” Dream sniffed. “Apparently there IS some sense of honor and fair play in the malformed skull of--”
TWHACK!
The Vicious Volunteer’s Big Boot found Lisa’s chin, not that the Reflection of Perfection had any time to register the pain before she toppled backward off the buckles and landed in a heap on the floor below!
Harley Jo’s eyes followed the tumbling champion with satisfaction, The Dream quieted for the moment. Perhaps guessing Lisa might be willing to sit out the count to retain her title, Collins slipped through the strands, dropped to the thinly-padded cement and claimed Dream by her shoulder-length, dark locks. Harley Jo yanked Lisa to her feet, the Personification of Perfection flashing a set of nails at the challenger’s eyes, but HJC swatted the effort away with a sweep of her left arm.
The taller brunette violently shoved her counterpart, sending Lisa hurtling into the steel barricade behind her. The Dream’s back arched, her flawless face etched in pain, Lisa Classic more attuned to the screaming synapses than perhaps her Red counterpart. She remained on her feet and staggered down the length of the ring with the Tennessee Terror in pursuit.
Latching onto a wrist, Harley Jo locked Dream to her location, swinging a raised right leg into the rim of ivory skin between Lisa’s leather vest and pants. The Dream’s dark eyes bulged as she’s bent at the waist, her abs imploding under the perfect placement of the tummy torturer.
Ears perking when she heard Castle get to ‘SIX’ on his count, HJC pivoted and tossed a groaning Lisa back in the ring, Dream rolling to a stop in the center. The Vicious Volunteer hopped to the apron and folded her way through the cables. She caught up with a rubbery Lisa as the Ultimate Image reached her feet. Harley wedged her head under the limp right arm of Dream as she wrapped her opposite arm around the champ’s left shoulder while slipping the other between Lisa’s legs.
Showing power perfection couldn’t match, Collins launched Lisa into the air, horizontal across HJC’s chest, The Dream’s chest pointed outward. With the crowd roaring and a terrified Lisa shaking her head, Harley Jo released the grip between The Dream’s stems, swinging her foe’s frame across her body, only to genuflect and CRUSH Lisa’s abdomen across bended knee.
CATATONIC GUTBUSTER
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z6FWL_TOSp4
Lisa flailed on the canvas like she’s had 10,000 volts cast through her, hugging her gutted belly. Beside her, a kneeling Harley Jo turned toward her target, peeling Lisa out of her tucked position and spreading her foe out across the mat. Collins dropped knee after knee into Lisa’s already blasted midriff, The Dream jackknifing after each until a fifth left her splayed, unable to react beyond pitiful moans.
Collins relented but only to cover the Ultimate image in a Lateral Press, hooking a leg for good measure for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Dream spasmed to life, throwing a shoulder up and rolling to her side to protect her bruised belly.
Collins almost seemed to relish treating the ‘cured’ Dream to more of her specific and brutal therapy.
“Darlin’. All you’re gonna have is bad dreams about me, because I don’t need any doctorate to ruin your life.”
Her piece said, Harley Jo fashioned her right hand into a claw. She slipped the ends of her fingers under the bottom of Lisa’s leather vest and tugged upward to show more alabaster skin, then DUG her talons into the flesh. Again Lisa writhed in anguish, Harley Jo’s infamous Belly Claw shredding her mottled midriff. Collins stuffed her left hand atop the ‘chewing’ fingers of her right to sink the digits in deeper. Between gritting teeth, the Vicious Volunteer advised Dream to surrender while she still had a working spleen. Castle took over the offers from there, asking if the Dream wanted to end her anguish. Lisa shook her head.
“NOOAHHHGAWWWD!”
The Dream thrashed wildly and was finally able to lift a kick into Collins’ ribs that broke the challenger’s concentration enough for The Dream to wrest free and roll toward the ropes. The scrambling Southerner snagged an ankle to keep Lisa from her escape to the outside. She dragged the whirling Dream back to the middle, lifted Lisa’s lower half by pulling her ankle high, and proceeded to boot Lisa in her perfect posterior.
Dream yelped in pain and embarrassment, letting the world know the disastrous place the Wannadream was headed before the end of the night. She broke loose of HJC’s grasp and butt-scooted her way to a corner, remaining seated and extending a pleading palm to the rampaging challenger.
“If anyone could rightfully dream to be me, it’s you. Always you!” Lisa assured, lower lip quivering as Collins approached.
Harley Jo shook her head.
“I might have been born at night, psycho,” HJC informed. “But it wasn’t last night.”
She hovered over the begging Dream, lifting a big right boot to stomp the Ultimate Image into the perfect mudhole. But Lisa Legend caught the effort at the ankle before Collins could hit her target. The champ tugged the captured leg toward her, sending Harley Jo plopping to her backside. Still in possession of the stem, Lisa slid out of the ring under the bottom rope. She pulled the lower limb of the Tennessee Terror with her and SLAMMED the inner side of Harley Jo’s right knee into the unforgiving steel.
Collins bit her lower lip, swallowing the waves of pain emanating from the damaged joint. But when the champion repeated the process, Harley couldn’t contain a Rebel Yell that sounded more a wail.
Satisfied she’s made the challenger aware she’s nothing but an unworthy worm and noticing Castle’s count was rising, The Dream released her grip and slid back into the squared circle, rising next to the wounded Volunteer. Lisa rubbed at her pinkened tummy, trying to show HJC she’s caused no damage but wincing when she put any pressure on it.
“Let’s see how easily I can bust YOUR gut.”
Lisa grabbed both wrists and hauled the bigger brunette out from the corner, lining her up several feet from a set of ropes. The Dream raced to the opposite strands and rebounded toward her foe. She skipped over the spread-eagled challenger, leaping into the cables. The leather-clad Lisa grabbed the top rope while springboarding off the second into a graceful back-flip, those claiming Lisa has no discernible athletic talent proven wrong. And when her Dreamysault sent her CRASHING down across Harley’s midriff, she delivered a calling card to Collins.
But while Harley Jo jackknifes under the splashing Dream, Lisa rolled away from the impact in serious pain herself, hugging her midsection, that signature maneuver perhaps not the best idea after the pounding her tummy had absorbed.
Nevertheless, the former mental patient and current Ultimate Image of Human Perfection gritted her way to vertical, an arm remaining wrapped around her midriff as she approached a rising Collins and sent a boot into HJC’s still throbbing right knee. The Tennessee Terror crumpled to a rough genuflection in front of The Dream.
Lisa grabbed Harley’s dark mane and RAMMED a series of knees into her foe’s temple, leaving Collins in a stupor and easily hauled to stooped feet. The Dream inserted Harley Jo’s lowered head between her cowskin-covered thighs and clamped down in a Standing Headscissors. She fashioned her right hand into a paddle and held it high.
“This is what you volunteered for tonight, Wannadream!”
The raising of a more traditional conducting baton would’ve resulted in hushed silence from the audience, but those patrons of the Bittersweet Symphony (both willing and un) grew all the more cacophonous as Dream prepared for a rousing rendition of her favorite Yuletide standard, ‘Losers I Have Spanked on High’.
No one in attendance actually knew the words, butt that was fine, as it was mostly designed for percussion and increasingly pained wailing both of which were expertly provided by the champion and her challenger respectively. From there the Ultimate Image segued (duh) into ‘Flat Cheeks Roasting ‘neath an Open Palm’ with nothing more than a quick, jaunty yank on the lyrca sheet music that was Collins’ black briefs.
By that point Harley Jo’s glutes were an extremely festive shade of red and Lisa’s holiday medley was more than two thirds of the way through ‘The Twelve Wannadreams of Christmas’ (I believe she’d just finished the ‘Eight Waifs a Whining’ verse) when she felt the Vicious Volunteer’s dangerous talons dig threateningly into the pits of her knees.
Not about to let the hillbilly Wannadream end her show on anything less than a flawless note, the Ghost of Christmas Perfect caught a double handful of her opponent’s togs and yanked them several inches closer to the North Pole while simultaneously hopping & dropping to her knees to finish the rousing set with THWHUNKING rendition of ‘Black & Blue Christmas’.
Sliding back from the no so merry mincemeat she’d made of one Harley Jo Collins, Lisa caught a Half Nelson and rolled the challenger onto her back so she could swivel into a domineering cover, the Ultimate Image planting the point of her left knee against the side of Collins’ jaw while her right arm hooked the far leg in a Half Matchbook good for showing off those scorched buns as well as collecting the…
ONE…
TWO…
HJC rolled onto her stomach a whisper after ‘TWO’, a reaction that confirmed her as an even bigger philistine than The Dream had suspected. “You think crawling on your belly like a worm will save you, Wannadream?” Lisa scoffed as she circled around to the prone Destroyer’s feet. “I assure you it will not. If anything it ensures easier access to the mat when it comes time to kiss it in surrender.”
“Yuuuuhhhh… you sure the paperwork Blassenville signed for you is legit?” Collins grunted as she struggled to all fours. “Because that has gotta be the craziest shyt I have heard all yeaWHOOAARRRRGGGGHHHH!”
Very much aware that she didn’t want Harley Jo vertical for the rest of the night, Lisa grabbed the challenger’s right ankle in both hands, then dipped into a deep crouch and popped up on tiptoe to yank her foe into an awkward, involuntary handstand. Didn’t last more than a second because The Dream immediately dropped to her knees which in turn THUMPED Collins’ knee against the thinly-sheathed plywood. Teeth bared in anguish, the Tennessee Terror tried to draw that injured limb in close, alas the Pernicious Perfectionist simply would not allow it. Standing up with the big brunette’s right foot still in her possession, Lisa abruptly laid out on her back while threading her legs around Collins’ captured stem mid-descent. Figure Four secured by the time she touched down, The Dream wrenched Harley Jo’s ankle this way and that while squeeeeeeeeeeeeezing the Southerner’s battered knee between her thighs.
DREAMY KNEEBAR:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ENpNDl7dXkY
“AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH GODDAMMIT!” Collins howled in undeniable agony as the Kneebar sank in deep, the challenger pushing up on both hands in the hopes of alleviating the pressure or at least increasing her mobility.
“You heard that, didn’t you?” Lisa barked at Nick Castle. “That was inbred hooligan for I submit! Go ahead and ring the bell!”
The official fancied her with a disapproving glance before turning his attention to Harley Jo. “How you doing, Harl’? Need me to call for the bell?”
“Piss on that.” the brunette growled. “If you wanna be helpful go get my flask.”
“You know I can’t do that.”
“Then kindly get the hell outta my wayRRRRRGGGGGHH!” The Witch of Razorback Holler swaddled her head in her hands when Lisa sent another vicious constriction through the Kneebar.
“Tap that mat, Wannadream.” the champion demanded. “Unless you’re ready to play the world’s biggest, ugliest Tiny Tim.”
HJC actually chuckled, (yet another indisputable sign of moral degeneracy as far as Lisa was concerned) then pushed up on her palms and began to crawl / drag their combined weight toward the ropes. The progress wasn’t fast, but the fact that there was progress of any sort irritated The Dream to no end so she redoubled her efforts to break the Wannadream’s leg off at the knee. Collins continued on despite these efforts and in no more than ten seconds she’d reached out and grabbed hold of the rubber-coated steel. “Since you won’t get my flask,” Harley Jo huffed to Castle, “perhaps you’d be willing to get this bytch offa me?”
Nick didn’t need to be told twice (or even once for that matter) he hurried down to Lisa and said, “She’s in the ropes, Lisa. Break the--”
You could imagine Castle’s surprise when The Dream did as bade before the request was entirely out of this mouth! Lest you deem this some sort of holiday miracle, Lisa’s subsequent actions proved otherwise as she immediately rose to her full height, secured BOTH of the other brunette’s ankles and draaaaaaaaaaaaaaagged her back to the center of the squared circle!
This drew protestations from all of FAWN’s hosts heavenly or otherwise, but seeing as they weren’t perfect Lisa paid them no mind at all. Instead she circled around to the challenger’s head and hauled her to her knees with a double handful of hair. The more prurient element in attendance hoped for an encore of the Symphony so they were slightly disappointed when the World Champ transitioned to a Front Facelock and slung the Southerner’s near arm across her shoulders. Getting Collins to full vertical was a process to say the least, yet Lisa made slightly easier work of it by catching HJC’s gimpy right leg behind the knee in a snug cradle. Hooks sank deep, The Dream allowed herself a couple deep breaths, then dipped low and popped her hips to take Harley Jo up, over and DOWN with the vaunted First Verse in her Ode to Perfection! Already close to the action, Castle sank to one knee and slapped the mat…
ODE TO PERFECTION, VERSE ONE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=csBxoZp01gc
ONE…
TWO…
Harley Jo’s free hand came outta nowhere to CRAAACK the champ’s perfect bridge with a full second to spare! “That’s the last time you’ll lay those disgusting hands on me, Wannadream.” Lisa promised as she began to drag the taller brunette to boot-leather. Collins offered nothing by way of reply, so The Dream stuffed a Kneelift into her belly, then whipped ‘round on one heel and reached over her right shoulder with both hands to collect a Three Quarters Facelock. The FAWNatics shot to their feet to protest such Christmas cruelty so Lisa mocked them with a snappy high kick that’d power NO!
The Vicious Volunteer got both hands against the small of Lisa’s back and shoved hard enough to send the Ultimate Image into the ropes. An obnoxious setback to be sure, however Lisa seemed to take it in stride as she bounced outta the strands and came rocketing back toward her limping oppo--
Harley Jo lunged forward to meet the champ, her splayed right hand ‘smecking’ atop the whole of Lisa’s startled face! Palming the back of that perfect skull in her other hand, Collins treated Dream’s divine dome to a single hard squeeze before she reached down and grabbed hold of her waistband. Iron Claw still in place, HJC hoisted the smaller brunette high into the sky and simply tossed her down, Lisa plummeting through a short free-fall that ended when she THAWHAMMED against canvas! Sinking to her knees beside the cratered champion, Harley Jo collected both Dreamy legs in a bundle and rolled her into a Back Press good for the…
IRON CLAW SLAM:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=q4nK2VS1frE
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Lisa shoved a shoulder a few inches off the canvas, the power of the Tennessee Terror taking The Dream’s title reign to the edge of extinction with one calamitous contrivance.
Though she’s saved herself, The Dream was seemingly on life support, dragged to her feet, Lisa leaning against the bigger brunette to remain upright. Collins placed a palm against the upper and lower portions of Lisa’s torso. With a loud grunt and a mighty heave, the Vicious Volunteer pushed an unresponsive Dream high with a Military Press.
Harley Jo enjoyed the gasps of astonishment that grew when she turned to every side of the arena with Lisa still elevated, The Dream pleadingly shaking her head.
“Don’t you darAAAAAAHHHNNNGGGHH!”
The challenger interrupts, letting Lisa drop from on high and across the tucked Tennessean, Dream’s ivory midriff gutted by the Southerners raised knees.
MILITARY PRESS GUTBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=HpDMRd2HtEk
A moaning Lisa rolled away from the impact, ending on her back, rocking from shoulder to shoulder. HJC pushed to her feet with a shyt-eating grin.
“You’re better Red than dead,” she snickered, hovering over the roiling legend.
Harley leapt into the air above the splayed Dream and went cannonball on the defenseless Dream, skewering her foe with both bony kneecaps DRIVING into the tummy of the champion. Lisa jackknifed around the impaling caps.
“AWWWGAWWWD!”
Collins pie-faced Dream back to horizontal.
“Don’t you know anything else?” The Dream grunted.
“Don’t need to with you, darlin’.”
HJC pivoted forty-five degrees to take a Schoolgirl pinning position over Lisa, Dream’s wrists glued to the canvas above her, keeping her shoulders planted as well. Harley Jo’s face hovered a couple feet above the panicked visage of The Dream.
“The perfect end,” the Vicious Volunteer purred as the Ultimate Image weakly struggled beneath her for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Somehow, Tenacious P (for perfection) thrust her pelvis and bucked a high-riding Collins up her body just enough to find room to push a shoulder off the canvas.
This time Harley Jo had a hard time believing, turning her gaze to Castle who held two fingers aloft then raised the thumb and forefinger of his opposite hand keeping them about an inch apart.
“Nicky, boy,” Harley Jo asked, shaking her head softly. “You don’t have a soft spot for psychos, do you?”
“Only my wife,” he retorted with a sly grin.
Collins cocked her head, surprised but delighted by the answer.
“Fair enough.”
Collins latched onto a wrist and tugged Lisa to her knees, The Dream settling on her haunches, chin drooping.
“What’s wrong? Is perfection finding Rocky Top too tough to climb?
“Fuhh…”
“Wrong answer,” HJC interjected.
Collins scooped her arms under those of the rubbery Dream and muscled the lethargic champ to vertical. The powerful Volunteer moved alongside her foe, slipping Lisa’s near arm across her shoulders and wrapping her arms around The Dream’s near leg. With frightful ease, Harley Jo vaulted the Personification of Perfection into a back-flip ending with Lisa’s midriff plunging into a genuflecting HJC’s upper leg.
TILT-A-WHIRL GUTBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ELwWGfJvEpg
A groaning Lisa bellowed in pain as she slopped off Collins’ knee and ended on her bruised belly, the legendary Lisa’s face more pale than usual. Harley pushed the gagging Dream to her back and climbed aboard in a Lateral Press, hooking the near leg for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Again, Lisa Classic survived, rolling to her chest to avoid another pin-fall attempt. But the rampaging challenger mounted her facedown foe, driving a knee into the base of Lisa’s spinal column and capturing a wrist in each palm. Yanking back on both, the Tennessee Terror lived up to her name, at least as far as Lisa’s concerned, by creating a makeshift Surfboard that had The Dream yelping in anguish, her upper torso peeled off the deck in a cruel arch until the champ was gazing at the rafters.
“Ask if she wants to give up to a Southern-fried WannaDream!” Harley chuckled between gritting teeth.
“Whaddyasay Lisa?” Nick queried. “I’ll call it if you want.”
The Dream only groaned and shook her head slightly in response.
Unhappy with the reply, Collins rose to her full height, placed a boot behind the base of The Dream’s neck and CURBSTOMPED Lisa’s face into the thinly-sheathed plywood, The Dream’s forehead bouncing off the deck a little too much like a rubber ball.
A beaming Collins, drinking in the roar of the crowd, fashioned her hands into the shape of a spade and every single person in the arena knew Lisa’s time at the top had come to a brief and bitter end.
Harley Jo pulled the flaccid Dream up to a ragdoll-like vertical. Collins pushed the limp Lisa’s head downward and it momentarily appeared a Symphony of revenge might be in the offing. But when Harley underhooked one of The Dream’s wilted arms then did likewise with the other, it’s clear Collins will remain true to her sigil.
But as the challenger tried to lift Dream for the coupe de grace, Lisa of whatever color had the wherewithal to snake a leg around one of the long muscular versions of the Vicious Volunteer, keeping the Ultimate Image grounded.
“Come on sweetie. Time to send you back to the looney bin.” Harley coaxed.
Lisa shrieked with rage, breaking her arms free from the underhooks and wrapping the limbs around the thighs of the challenger. Yelling in a way of which any rebel would be proud, she hauled Harley off her feet and spilled the bigger brunette over the top with a Back Body Drop that delivered Collins’ spine to the canvas, HJC arching her backbone in pain from the impact. Lisa dropped to her haunches, dark eyes darting, a hint of froth gathering in the corners of her lips, her Scarlet persona bubbling to the surface.
“No, no, no, no, no, no, NO!” Lisa’s mantra ended in a stern growl, though whether the repeated negation was meant for her opponent or her redder half was unknown. The champion’s intentions proved much easier to decipher, as Dream wasted no time hiking up Collins’ simple black briefs once she’d reeled the penitent challenger into a Standing Headscissors.
“All right you malicious opossum-faced troglodyte!” the Ultimate Image snarled in the midst of squeeeeeeeeeezing Harley Jo’s head between her thighs. “I don’t usually bother with an encore, but it’s clear you need much more culture in your liWHOOOAAAAAAHHHH!”
The Witch of Razorback Holler braced her hands against Lisa’s knees and straightened up fast, but where The Dream had dumped her burden to the canvas, HJC was content to simply hold the smaller wrestler aloft on her should-- Collins shoved Lisa off her perch and twisted around beneath her so that she landed in a picture-perfect Electric Chair. Give The Dream credit, she crossed her ankles and hunched forward, presumably in search of a Dream Driver, alas this proved a fool’s errand because Harley Jo tossed her forward and dropped to a seat which ensured Lisa THWHAMMED down flat on her face, chest and tummy from a nauseating height!
ELECTRIC CHAIR POWERBOMB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=uG951BgaPAo
Still controlling the champ’s thighs after that brutal landing, Collins rolled to one knee which in turn flipped The Dream onto her back so the Southerner could plant her tush firmly in, you guessed it, the devastated cartography of Lisa’s perfect midriff. Already on their feet by the time Nick Castle swooped in beside the action, the FAWNatics added their voices to the count of…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOO!
Dream shoved Collins clear with half a heartbeat to spare, then popped to her feet and careened toward the far corner with both hands pressed to her face! “CRAHDY WHANNADREEM!” the Reflection of Perfection wailed through her muffling palms. “YOU BRODE MY NODE!”
Castle took this assertion with a grain of salt until he noted the small red splotch on the canvas right about where Lisa’s face touched down. Cursing quietly, the Senior Official fished some rubber gloves from his back pocket and slipped them on even as he hurried after around Harley Jo, who was headed in the same direction. “Hang back, Harley.” he said brusquely. “I need to make sure she’s fit to continue.”
“Shyt on that.” Collins countered. “You’ll get all the confirmation you need after I bounce her face a few more times.” Striding ahead of the worried zebra, Harley Jo reached out, caught hold of the champ’s shoulder and whipped her ‘round to compound the damage she’d done with the Electric Chair Power-- “AHHH FAHK!”
HJC stumbled back like she was on roller skates, the Tennessee Terror scrubbing furiously at the eye Lisa had just jabbed with her perfect thumb!
Castle’s curse was much louder this time, as he was abruptly forced to choose between checking on the champion or the challenger. A quick assessment confirmed that there was in fact blood streaming from The Dream’s nose, so he sidled by Harley Jo and hurried over to Lisa. “Let me see your nose, Lisa.” he coaxed. “Do I need to get Dr. Vannacutt out--”
“NO DOCTORS!”
The leather-clad brunette planted both hands against the ref’s chest and shoved HARD! Caught off balance, Castle backpedaled with his arms windmilling frantically and would’ve gone down flat on his ass if Harley Jo hadn’t caught him by the shoulders.
“Can I smash her face in now, stripes?” Collins asked once she’d set the poor dope on his feet.
“As long as you keep it in the confines of the rules.”
The Vicious Volunteer just snorted and went straight at the Bloodied Image of Human Perfe-- Lisa rushed out to meet her with a Low Dropkick that THWHAPPED against the challenger’s knees! Harley Jo pitched forward but managed to catch hold of the top rope to prevent her face from going straight into the top turn… Collins took a deep breath and shook her head in disbelief as she realized she was mere inches from a ring of exposed steel. “Crazy bytch.” she muttered. “You’re gonna wish you’d stayed locked AAAAAWWWW GAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWD!”
Perfectly positioned between the prone challenger and the perturbed ref, Red Lisa stepped up and SLAMMED a vicious punt between Harley Jo’s thighs! Knees clapped together in the wake of this hateful shot, Collins tightened her grip on the rubber-coated steel in the hopes of maintaining vertic-- “NGH! NGH! NGH! NGH! NGH! NNNNNNNGGGGHHH!”
The Carmine Killer leapt onto the middle strand, snatched a double handful of Harley Jo’s hair and bounced her unsuspecting face against the exposed rung no less than half a dozen times! Collins tried her damndest to get an arm between her face and the steel, but after the third impact her arms were dangling limply over the top rope. Such a sign of vulnerability would’ve been more than enough for most people, alas Red Lisa wasn’t most people, (in fact some would argue she wasn’t people at all) so when the bludgeoning was done the abrading began, the champ just draaaaaaaaaaagging Harley Jo’s forehead back ‘n forth!
Astounded by just how quickly The Dream’s murderous alter-ego had manifested, Castle rushed up beside the action and barked out, “GET OFF HER, DREAM! ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!”
Lisa hopped down, twisted ‘round in mid-air and went at the referee. Walking him straight into the corner, the champion drew up a few inches short, then dabbed two fingers in the blood beneath her nostrils and made two ugly red smears on each cheek. Another few seconds passed before she whispered, “Dream’s not here, doctor man.”
Nick swallowed the lump in his throat, nodded once. “My mistake. Won’t happen again.”
But Red Lisa wasn’t listening, she’d dismissed Nick in favor of more interesting prey as soon as she heard a roar from the crowd. Shambling toward the center like an escapee from a Romero film, Harley Jo Collins wiped the worst of the blood from her face before she beckoned Lisa forward. “Thuuuuhhh… that all you got, ya crazy bytch?” she paused to spit blood on the canvas. “I thought you came here to fighEERRGGGHH!”
Red Lisa rushed her showing an Eye Rake only to pump another vile knee into the big brunette’s crotch when she caught hold of her wrists! Tearing free immediately thereafter, the Cracked Reflection of Human Depravity hit the ropes full tilt boogie and came just as fast all so she could deliver a perfect overhand Forearm Smash, the Dreamsicle just THWHAPPING down across the base of Harley Jo’s skull.
That crippling brain freeze should’ve put HJC flat on her face, but somehow the battle-tested veteran only collapsed to one knee! This didn’t seem to bother Red Lisa in the slightest, in fact she showed the world a pink-tinged smile when she hauled Harley up with a double handful of hair. Turning her back on the bigger brunette, Lisa reached over her right shoulder with both hands to secure Collins’ bleeding pate in a Three Quarters Facelock. Then she kicked her right leg forward and snapped it back to lay out on her stomach while poor Harley Jo was THWHONKED down on the crown of her skull!
DAY DREAMER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=xas0-oCch9g
Hurled into a swirling vermilion vortex courtesy of that maniacal Day Dreamer, Collins slopped down on her back in a defenseless sprawl offered no resistance when Red Lisa settled into a north-south cover and hooked the right leg in a Half Matchbook for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
Lisa nodded as the bell sounded, though distress flashed across her perfect features when the Announcer confirmed, “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, YOUR WINNER VIA PIN-FALL AND STILL THE FAWN WORLD CHAMPION… LISA DREAM!”
The flabbergasted FAWNatics shifted from stunned silence to jaded jeers for the vile victory of the champion. The announcement not only flipped a switch with the crowd but with the legendary Lisa. Hearing she’s retained her title and, in so doing, her utter impeccability, The Dream released Collins’ leg. She flopped to the side, ending on her back in an exhausted starfish.
Bringing both sets of fingers to her beak, she pressed her nose, momentarily more worried about her flawless features than her gold.
“What the hell did you do?”
The nasal tone of the Cracked Image was in less than perfect pitch and the thought was driving The Dream to distraction. It’s clearly a first-world problem of Lisa Classic than the feral Red version of the World Champ, so when she rose, Lisa demanded her belt and a mirror rather than tearing the defenseless Harley Jo to shreds.
“Give it to me,” The Dream snorted, snatching the gold and leather and raising it high to the displeasure of the arena’s occupants.
“Welcome back,” Castle said, lifting Lisa’s opposite arm to show off FAWN’s queen of the hill.
“Shut your mouth,” Classic growled, ripping her arm away from the zebra.
“There’s only me.”
Lisa pointed at the stilled Tennessee Terror.
“I did that, Wannadream.”
She turned her attention back to the crowd.
“THERE’S ONLY ME! I AM THE BEST! I AM LISA DREAM!”
SHINE DOWN:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4xACHH5-QwY
HARLEY JO COLLINS:
A pleased roar from those assembled as Harley Jo Collins herownself pushed through the curtain of the FAWN Arena for the first time in nearly eight months. Acknowledging the raucous welcome with the faintest of nods, the Countrycidal Maniac produced a battered silver flask from a pocket of her well-worn overalls and toasted the battle ahead with a long pull. Ritual observed, she tucked the flask away and strolled down the aisle toward the squared circle.
Slowing to a stop when she reached the reached the foot of the steel steps, Collins touched a hand to one shoulder and undid the clasps on the overalls, leaving them in a puddle at her feet. Stripped to the essentials, she wore a black fightin’ rumble-kini with white pads and plain black boots. From there she slid under the bottom rope, pushed to her feet and strode to the middle of the ring where she stretched her arms wide to better show off that near six foot frame for the hard camera. Though she said nothing, the message was clear. Harley Jo Collins had proved she could carry the promotion’s workhorse title. Tonight she would prove she could carry the big gold belt with equal ease.
With the Tennessee Terror in the ring, hoping to end the Dream Season just a month after it’s begun, a long missing but still familiar burst of blazing white pyrotechnics erupted. The flawless light show filled the upper stage and, a split second behind, the opening chords of the classic ‘O Fortuna’ replace the blazing fireworks.
O FORTUNA:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=GD3VsesSBsw
Apparently, the Crimson Calamity that is or was Red Lisa has left building in perpetuity and the minimal following the feral version of The Dream had garnered is gone as well.
LISA DREAM:
The jeers of the FAWNatics rose to a crescendo along with the stirring music. The FAWN icon, a legend in various other wrestling organizations through the years as well, moved to center stage and absorbed the spotlight and the hatred, for why wouldn’t every single person in the crowd be jealous of perfection?
Certain she’s sent a chill down the spine of every Dreamophile and Dreamophobe in the house, Lisa beamed, the further proof of her flawlessness wrapping around her midriff, the FAWN World Championship belt evidence even the most obtuse could not avoid.
Satisfied with her bask, The Dream began her first champion’s promenade in many years, the Ultimate Image of Human Perfection moving gracefully down the ramp and aisle, then ascending the ring steps with all the surety of someone who’s known from birth she’s without a single shortcoming.
Lisa halted and took a long look around the unfriendly confines before sticking a leather-clad leg through and followed the cowskin-covered limb into the battleground.
The Luscious One moved to the middle, unfastens her belt, and raised it high with her right hand, even as the assembled continued to boo their lungs out, Lisa scoffing and scowling at the Wannadreams for their sad refusal to admit she‘s the perfect title holder.
Dream was clad in skin-tight, black leather; the champ wearing her customary sleeveless vest, cut to give her pert bosom room to breathe but otherwise covering her alabaster tummy, only a slight rim of skin showing. Her long, black cowhide pants reached down to her black boots, the Dreamophiles, again frustrated at not being able to view the flawless, alabaster stems of the Personification of Perfection. 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.
With Lisa moving to her corner, the announcer took his cue.
“And her opponent, from New York, New York, standing five feet six inches tall and weighing in at one hundred and seventeen pounds, the Ultimate Image of Human Perfection… and YOUR FAWN WORLD CHAMPION…Lisa Dream!”
The beautiful dark-haired Dream exchanged her title for a microphone from an attendant and moved back to the middle. Lisa showing silent disdain for the Dreamophobes until they quiet. She pulled a stick from hip to lips.
“There is no denying perfection,” Lisa informed, “and this sad, super-sized simpleton isn’t about to prove any differently.”
The crowd let Lisa Classic know they disagree.
“It’s been a long road home to remind you Wannadreams what a champion should be. Burlingame isn’t it. Neither is this.”
Dream waved an arm in Collins’ direction.
“Let the lesson of perfection begin.”
The Dream dropped the mic, turns and strolled back to her corner, ignoring both Harley Jo at her back and the animosity crowding in from all sides.
Lisa strode from her corner with the opening bell, though her approach to the challenger wasn’t anything one might deem ‘direct’. No, the Ultimate Image chose a languid stroll along the edge of the ring, then curled in and began to circle when Collins vacated her buckles some seconds thereafter. Harley Jo made no special effort to close on the smaller brunette, but her longer stride meant it happened sooner than later, or at least would have if Lisa hadn’t sped up to increase the gap.
“So how many jugs of that bilge-water hooch did you have to pass around at the Christmas Party to secure this particular bit of graft?” The Dream sneered. “Last time anyone saw your inbred ass you were getting your head caved in by that blonde sociopath, now here you are just waltzing into a World Title Match? That’s pathetic, even for a Wannadream.”
The corner of Harley Jo’s mouth curled in the whisper of a smile, her fingertips twitched in the ghost of a claw, but her eyes remained locked on the leather-clad brunette. “Not that it’s any of your damned business, but the ‘Shine only made an appearance [I[after[/I] Bethany had offered me a shot at your narrow, gutless ass.” Collins noted. “Additionally, is questioning my presence really your best play, considering they damned near had to throw you into that cell at the Madhouse and you only won thanks to unexpected taser provided by the very woman responsible for locking you up in the first pla--”
“SHUT YOUR FILTHY MOUTH!”
The Dream launched herself at HJC, those perfectly manicured nails flashing in search of the challenger’s eyes. T’was Collins’ boot she found instead, the lanky brunette skewering Lisa’s sternum with a Big Boot that might’ve taken her head off if it’d drifted a few inches higher. Lisa hit the deck and Harley Jo came down beside her, the Tennessee Terror draping herself across Dream’s stunned frame to collect the far leg in cover good for…
ONE!
The Dream didn’t just kick out, she careened out of the cover, Lisa scrambling from beneath the lanky Destroyer like the canvas was electrified. Regaining her composure the instant she’d created some breathing room, Lisa smoothed her hair back and sniffed, “You don’t know what you’re talking about, you six-toed cretin. I exposed Burlingame for the farce that she is. Blassenville’s little experiment only ensured we reached the inevitable conclusion that much fa--”
Collins came at her with a second boot, one aimed directly at the champion’s perfect chin. Her aim didn’t falter, but Lisa’s defenses proved Dreamy and she caught the Southerner’s ankle a couple inches shy of its target. The Golden Dream tossed Harley’s leg down like it was something she’d pulled up from the bottom of a river, then made Collins pay for such temerity by THWHACKING her across the chin with an Elbow Smash that swiveled Harley Jo’s head to the- the taller brunette’s head snapped back so quickly Lisa had both hands raised before she even started to clear off.
“Steady your nerves, Collins!” she ordered. “I know tensions can run high this time of year but there’s no need to HUURRRGHH!”
The Vicious Volunteer caught Dream by the throat with one hand and stuffed the other beneath the champ’s left armpit. Just like that she took two giant steps backward and twisted her torso from right to left, all the better to send Lisa hurtling through the air with a Biel Toss that brought her THAWHAMMING down flat on the canvas!
The Dream bounced to her feet, stumbled, then collapsed backward into the buckles and wrapped her arms around the top rope like it was a lifeline. “Keep her back, Castle!” Lisa demanded at once! “She’s got strength born of obvious moral turpitude! A degenerate like that has no place in the Dream’s OOOOFFFFFFHHHH!”
Harley Jo put a stop to that perfect sass by rushing into the corner to bury the overwhelmed champion beneath a hundred and forty so pounds of Southern Avalanche Splash. Helping herself to Lisa’s left wrist as she pressed a little tighter against the wheezing brunette, Collins murmured, “Believe me, I’d have much rather clawed that gold right outta the Ace’s snotty little tummy, but since you and the Doc zapped her into hiding I gotta have my fun with you instead.”
The Reflection of Perfection grumbled a reply of some sort (probably about how she was still in the ropes and thus immune to such rough treatment) that was summarily ignored so Harley Jo could sling her across the squared circle with another Irish Whip. Dream made the trip with Collins only a strides behind, meaning it was all the more impressive when the World Champ twisted ‘round and boosted herself into a seat on the top buckle with enough time to flick a stiff kick into the taller wrestler’s chin! HJC stumbled back a ways, allowing Lisa enough time to drop back to the-NEVER MIND!
Harley came for her again, forcing the Ultimate Image to hook both arms over the ropes so she could boost a last-second Mule Kick into the challenger’s chest! “What’s the matter Wannadream, don’t like the taste of my boots?” Lisa crowed as Collins reeled away from the corner. “Well get used to it! You’re gonna love ‘em by the time this match is--” Harley Jo tried a third approach and again The Dream was ready for her, this time with a perfectly-placed Basement Dropkick to Collins’ left thigh. The brunette’s legs went out from underneath and she tumbled into a throat-first landing across the second strand.
Most wrestlers would’ve been pleased to have their opponent at such a disadvantage, but Lisa couldn’t help but snort as she’d wanted to send the reprobate’s smug face into the thinly-padded steel. Even so, Lisa Dream knew how to make the best of even imperfect situations, which was why she wasted no time clambering onto the Southerner’s back. Anchored to the top rope with both hands, Lisa shifted her feet to the base of Collins’ neck and earned a grudging ‘OOOOOHHHHH!’ from the FAWNatics when she stood up and began to bounce up and down on the writhing challenger!
“YOU THINK THIS HILLBILLY CRETIN SCARES ME?” Dream bellowed to all those that dared decry her perfection. “SHE DOESN’T! SHE’S NOTHING BUT A SOAP BOX FROM ATOP WHICH I WILL PROCLAIM MY PERFECTION TO THE WOR--”
Get off her throat, Lisa!” Nick Castle barked. “She’s in the ropes!”
“Don’t EVER interrupt me, Wannadream!” Lisa scowled. “As I was saying--”
“ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!”
An exasperated Dream hopped down from her mount, claimed a double handful of hair and dragged Collins to her feet as roughly as she could. Bundling the bigger brunette back-first in the corner, Lisa climbed onto the middle rope, helped herself to a double handful of hair and wrenched the Tennessean’s head back at an awkward angle. “Don’t think those vestigial fingers and toes are going to help you tonight, opossum face.” she purred. “Nothing will save you from my perfection.” With that she freed her right hand and promptly returned it to Harley Jo’s forehead in the form of a straight right hand.
Powerless to overcome the ingrained compulsion, those assembled for Season’s Beatings counted off ‘ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! SIX! SEVEN! EIGHT! NIOOOOOOOOHHHHHH!”
The Witch of Razorback Holler reached up with both hands and grabbed hold of the champ’s throat. Dark eyes bulging in surprise, Dream swatted and thrashed when Harley Jo stepped out of the corner, but she didn’t regain any traction until Collins swung ‘round in a half circle and set her down on the top turnbuckle.
“BREAK!” Lisa demanded at once. Danged if Harley didn’t let her loose at once, the big brunette backing off with her hands raised high overhead. “Astounding.” Dream sniffed. “Apparently there IS some sense of honor and fair play in the malformed skull of--”
TWHACK!
The Vicious Volunteer’s Big Boot found Lisa’s chin, not that the Reflection of Perfection had any time to register the pain before she toppled backward off the buckles and landed in a heap on the floor below!
Harley Jo’s eyes followed the tumbling champion with satisfaction, The Dream quieted for the moment. Perhaps guessing Lisa might be willing to sit out the count to retain her title, Collins slipped through the strands, dropped to the thinly-padded cement and claimed Dream by her shoulder-length, dark locks. Harley Jo yanked Lisa to her feet, the Personification of Perfection flashing a set of nails at the challenger’s eyes, but HJC swatted the effort away with a sweep of her left arm.
The taller brunette violently shoved her counterpart, sending Lisa hurtling into the steel barricade behind her. The Dream’s back arched, her flawless face etched in pain, Lisa Classic more attuned to the screaming synapses than perhaps her Red counterpart. She remained on her feet and staggered down the length of the ring with the Tennessee Terror in pursuit.
Latching onto a wrist, Harley Jo locked Dream to her location, swinging a raised right leg into the rim of ivory skin between Lisa’s leather vest and pants. The Dream’s dark eyes bulged as she’s bent at the waist, her abs imploding under the perfect placement of the tummy torturer.
Ears perking when she heard Castle get to ‘SIX’ on his count, HJC pivoted and tossed a groaning Lisa back in the ring, Dream rolling to a stop in the center. The Vicious Volunteer hopped to the apron and folded her way through the cables. She caught up with a rubbery Lisa as the Ultimate Image reached her feet. Harley wedged her head under the limp right arm of Dream as she wrapped her opposite arm around the champ’s left shoulder while slipping the other between Lisa’s legs.
Showing power perfection couldn’t match, Collins launched Lisa into the air, horizontal across HJC’s chest, The Dream’s chest pointed outward. With the crowd roaring and a terrified Lisa shaking her head, Harley Jo released the grip between The Dream’s stems, swinging her foe’s frame across her body, only to genuflect and CRUSH Lisa’s abdomen across bended knee.
CATATONIC GUTBUSTER
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z6FWL_TOSp4
Lisa flailed on the canvas like she’s had 10,000 volts cast through her, hugging her gutted belly. Beside her, a kneeling Harley Jo turned toward her target, peeling Lisa out of her tucked position and spreading her foe out across the mat. Collins dropped knee after knee into Lisa’s already blasted midriff, The Dream jackknifing after each until a fifth left her splayed, unable to react beyond pitiful moans.
Collins relented but only to cover the Ultimate image in a Lateral Press, hooking a leg for good measure for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Dream spasmed to life, throwing a shoulder up and rolling to her side to protect her bruised belly.
Collins almost seemed to relish treating the ‘cured’ Dream to more of her specific and brutal therapy.
“Darlin’. All you’re gonna have is bad dreams about me, because I don’t need any doctorate to ruin your life.”
Her piece said, Harley Jo fashioned her right hand into a claw. She slipped the ends of her fingers under the bottom of Lisa’s leather vest and tugged upward to show more alabaster skin, then DUG her talons into the flesh. Again Lisa writhed in anguish, Harley Jo’s infamous Belly Claw shredding her mottled midriff. Collins stuffed her left hand atop the ‘chewing’ fingers of her right to sink the digits in deeper. Between gritting teeth, the Vicious Volunteer advised Dream to surrender while she still had a working spleen. Castle took over the offers from there, asking if the Dream wanted to end her anguish. Lisa shook her head.
“NOOAHHHGAWWWD!”
The Dream thrashed wildly and was finally able to lift a kick into Collins’ ribs that broke the challenger’s concentration enough for The Dream to wrest free and roll toward the ropes. The scrambling Southerner snagged an ankle to keep Lisa from her escape to the outside. She dragged the whirling Dream back to the middle, lifted Lisa’s lower half by pulling her ankle high, and proceeded to boot Lisa in her perfect posterior.
Dream yelped in pain and embarrassment, letting the world know the disastrous place the Wannadream was headed before the end of the night. She broke loose of HJC’s grasp and butt-scooted her way to a corner, remaining seated and extending a pleading palm to the rampaging challenger.
“If anyone could rightfully dream to be me, it’s you. Always you!” Lisa assured, lower lip quivering as Collins approached.
Harley Jo shook her head.
“I might have been born at night, psycho,” HJC informed. “But it wasn’t last night.”
She hovered over the begging Dream, lifting a big right boot to stomp the Ultimate Image into the perfect mudhole. But Lisa Legend caught the effort at the ankle before Collins could hit her target. The champ tugged the captured leg toward her, sending Harley Jo plopping to her backside. Still in possession of the stem, Lisa slid out of the ring under the bottom rope. She pulled the lower limb of the Tennessee Terror with her and SLAMMED the inner side of Harley Jo’s right knee into the unforgiving steel.
Collins bit her lower lip, swallowing the waves of pain emanating from the damaged joint. But when the champion repeated the process, Harley couldn’t contain a Rebel Yell that sounded more a wail.
Satisfied she’s made the challenger aware she’s nothing but an unworthy worm and noticing Castle’s count was rising, The Dream released her grip and slid back into the squared circle, rising next to the wounded Volunteer. Lisa rubbed at her pinkened tummy, trying to show HJC she’s caused no damage but wincing when she put any pressure on it.
“Let’s see how easily I can bust YOUR gut.”
Lisa grabbed both wrists and hauled the bigger brunette out from the corner, lining her up several feet from a set of ropes. The Dream raced to the opposite strands and rebounded toward her foe. She skipped over the spread-eagled challenger, leaping into the cables. The leather-clad Lisa grabbed the top rope while springboarding off the second into a graceful back-flip, those claiming Lisa has no discernible athletic talent proven wrong. And when her Dreamysault sent her CRASHING down across Harley’s midriff, she delivered a calling card to Collins.
But while Harley Jo jackknifes under the splashing Dream, Lisa rolled away from the impact in serious pain herself, hugging her midsection, that signature maneuver perhaps not the best idea after the pounding her tummy had absorbed.
Nevertheless, the former mental patient and current Ultimate Image of Human Perfection gritted her way to vertical, an arm remaining wrapped around her midriff as she approached a rising Collins and sent a boot into HJC’s still throbbing right knee. The Tennessee Terror crumpled to a rough genuflection in front of The Dream.
Lisa grabbed Harley’s dark mane and RAMMED a series of knees into her foe’s temple, leaving Collins in a stupor and easily hauled to stooped feet. The Dream inserted Harley Jo’s lowered head between her cowskin-covered thighs and clamped down in a Standing Headscissors. She fashioned her right hand into a paddle and held it high.
“This is what you volunteered for tonight, Wannadream!”
The raising of a more traditional conducting baton would’ve resulted in hushed silence from the audience, but those patrons of the Bittersweet Symphony (both willing and un) grew all the more cacophonous as Dream prepared for a rousing rendition of her favorite Yuletide standard, ‘Losers I Have Spanked on High’.
No one in attendance actually knew the words, butt that was fine, as it was mostly designed for percussion and increasingly pained wailing both of which were expertly provided by the champion and her challenger respectively. From there the Ultimate Image segued (duh) into ‘Flat Cheeks Roasting ‘neath an Open Palm’ with nothing more than a quick, jaunty yank on the lyrca sheet music that was Collins’ black briefs.
By that point Harley Jo’s glutes were an extremely festive shade of red and Lisa’s holiday medley was more than two thirds of the way through ‘The Twelve Wannadreams of Christmas’ (I believe she’d just finished the ‘Eight Waifs a Whining’ verse) when she felt the Vicious Volunteer’s dangerous talons dig threateningly into the pits of her knees.
Not about to let the hillbilly Wannadream end her show on anything less than a flawless note, the Ghost of Christmas Perfect caught a double handful of her opponent’s togs and yanked them several inches closer to the North Pole while simultaneously hopping & dropping to her knees to finish the rousing set with THWHUNKING rendition of ‘Black & Blue Christmas’.
Sliding back from the no so merry mincemeat she’d made of one Harley Jo Collins, Lisa caught a Half Nelson and rolled the challenger onto her back so she could swivel into a domineering cover, the Ultimate Image planting the point of her left knee against the side of Collins’ jaw while her right arm hooked the far leg in a Half Matchbook good for showing off those scorched buns as well as collecting the…
ONE…
TWO…
HJC rolled onto her stomach a whisper after ‘TWO’, a reaction that confirmed her as an even bigger philistine than The Dream had suspected. “You think crawling on your belly like a worm will save you, Wannadream?” Lisa scoffed as she circled around to the prone Destroyer’s feet. “I assure you it will not. If anything it ensures easier access to the mat when it comes time to kiss it in surrender.”
“Yuuuuhhhh… you sure the paperwork Blassenville signed for you is legit?” Collins grunted as she struggled to all fours. “Because that has gotta be the craziest shyt I have heard all yeaWHOOAARRRRGGGGHHHH!”
Very much aware that she didn’t want Harley Jo vertical for the rest of the night, Lisa grabbed the challenger’s right ankle in both hands, then dipped into a deep crouch and popped up on tiptoe to yank her foe into an awkward, involuntary handstand. Didn’t last more than a second because The Dream immediately dropped to her knees which in turn THUMPED Collins’ knee against the thinly-sheathed plywood. Teeth bared in anguish, the Tennessee Terror tried to draw that injured limb in close, alas the Pernicious Perfectionist simply would not allow it. Standing up with the big brunette’s right foot still in her possession, Lisa abruptly laid out on her back while threading her legs around Collins’ captured stem mid-descent. Figure Four secured by the time she touched down, The Dream wrenched Harley Jo’s ankle this way and that while squeeeeeeeeeeeeezing the Southerner’s battered knee between her thighs.
DREAMY KNEEBAR:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ENpNDl7dXkY
“AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH GODDAMMIT!” Collins howled in undeniable agony as the Kneebar sank in deep, the challenger pushing up on both hands in the hopes of alleviating the pressure or at least increasing her mobility.
“You heard that, didn’t you?” Lisa barked at Nick Castle. “That was inbred hooligan for I submit! Go ahead and ring the bell!”
The official fancied her with a disapproving glance before turning his attention to Harley Jo. “How you doing, Harl’? Need me to call for the bell?”
“Piss on that.” the brunette growled. “If you wanna be helpful go get my flask.”
“You know I can’t do that.”
“Then kindly get the hell outta my wayRRRRRGGGGGHH!” The Witch of Razorback Holler swaddled her head in her hands when Lisa sent another vicious constriction through the Kneebar.
“Tap that mat, Wannadream.” the champion demanded. “Unless you’re ready to play the world’s biggest, ugliest Tiny Tim.”
HJC actually chuckled, (yet another indisputable sign of moral degeneracy as far as Lisa was concerned) then pushed up on her palms and began to crawl / drag their combined weight toward the ropes. The progress wasn’t fast, but the fact that there was progress of any sort irritated The Dream to no end so she redoubled her efforts to break the Wannadream’s leg off at the knee. Collins continued on despite these efforts and in no more than ten seconds she’d reached out and grabbed hold of the rubber-coated steel. “Since you won’t get my flask,” Harley Jo huffed to Castle, “perhaps you’d be willing to get this bytch offa me?”
Nick didn’t need to be told twice (or even once for that matter) he hurried down to Lisa and said, “She’s in the ropes, Lisa. Break the--”
You could imagine Castle’s surprise when The Dream did as bade before the request was entirely out of this mouth! Lest you deem this some sort of holiday miracle, Lisa’s subsequent actions proved otherwise as she immediately rose to her full height, secured BOTH of the other brunette’s ankles and draaaaaaaaaaaaaaagged her back to the center of the squared circle!
This drew protestations from all of FAWN’s hosts heavenly or otherwise, but seeing as they weren’t perfect Lisa paid them no mind at all. Instead she circled around to the challenger’s head and hauled her to her knees with a double handful of hair. The more prurient element in attendance hoped for an encore of the Symphony so they were slightly disappointed when the World Champ transitioned to a Front Facelock and slung the Southerner’s near arm across her shoulders. Getting Collins to full vertical was a process to say the least, yet Lisa made slightly easier work of it by catching HJC’s gimpy right leg behind the knee in a snug cradle. Hooks sank deep, The Dream allowed herself a couple deep breaths, then dipped low and popped her hips to take Harley Jo up, over and DOWN with the vaunted First Verse in her Ode to Perfection! Already close to the action, Castle sank to one knee and slapped the mat…
ODE TO PERFECTION, VERSE ONE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=csBxoZp01gc
ONE…
TWO…
Harley Jo’s free hand came outta nowhere to CRAAACK the champ’s perfect bridge with a full second to spare! “That’s the last time you’ll lay those disgusting hands on me, Wannadream.” Lisa promised as she began to drag the taller brunette to boot-leather. Collins offered nothing by way of reply, so The Dream stuffed a Kneelift into her belly, then whipped ‘round on one heel and reached over her right shoulder with both hands to collect a Three Quarters Facelock. The FAWNatics shot to their feet to protest such Christmas cruelty so Lisa mocked them with a snappy high kick that’d power NO!
The Vicious Volunteer got both hands against the small of Lisa’s back and shoved hard enough to send the Ultimate Image into the ropes. An obnoxious setback to be sure, however Lisa seemed to take it in stride as she bounced outta the strands and came rocketing back toward her limping oppo--
Harley Jo lunged forward to meet the champ, her splayed right hand ‘smecking’ atop the whole of Lisa’s startled face! Palming the back of that perfect skull in her other hand, Collins treated Dream’s divine dome to a single hard squeeze before she reached down and grabbed hold of her waistband. Iron Claw still in place, HJC hoisted the smaller brunette high into the sky and simply tossed her down, Lisa plummeting through a short free-fall that ended when she THAWHAMMED against canvas! Sinking to her knees beside the cratered champion, Harley Jo collected both Dreamy legs in a bundle and rolled her into a Back Press good for the…
IRON CLAW SLAM:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=q4nK2VS1frE
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Lisa shoved a shoulder a few inches off the canvas, the power of the Tennessee Terror taking The Dream’s title reign to the edge of extinction with one calamitous contrivance.
Though she’s saved herself, The Dream was seemingly on life support, dragged to her feet, Lisa leaning against the bigger brunette to remain upright. Collins placed a palm against the upper and lower portions of Lisa’s torso. With a loud grunt and a mighty heave, the Vicious Volunteer pushed an unresponsive Dream high with a Military Press.
Harley Jo enjoyed the gasps of astonishment that grew when she turned to every side of the arena with Lisa still elevated, The Dream pleadingly shaking her head.
“Don’t you darAAAAAAHHHNNNGGGHH!”
The challenger interrupts, letting Lisa drop from on high and across the tucked Tennessean, Dream’s ivory midriff gutted by the Southerners raised knees.
MILITARY PRESS GUTBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=HpDMRd2HtEk
A moaning Lisa rolled away from the impact, ending on her back, rocking from shoulder to shoulder. HJC pushed to her feet with a shyt-eating grin.
“You’re better Red than dead,” she snickered, hovering over the roiling legend.
Harley leapt into the air above the splayed Dream and went cannonball on the defenseless Dream, skewering her foe with both bony kneecaps DRIVING into the tummy of the champion. Lisa jackknifed around the impaling caps.
“AWWWGAWWWD!”
Collins pie-faced Dream back to horizontal.
“Don’t you know anything else?” The Dream grunted.
“Don’t need to with you, darlin’.”
HJC pivoted forty-five degrees to take a Schoolgirl pinning position over Lisa, Dream’s wrists glued to the canvas above her, keeping her shoulders planted as well. Harley Jo’s face hovered a couple feet above the panicked visage of The Dream.
“The perfect end,” the Vicious Volunteer purred as the Ultimate Image weakly struggled beneath her for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Somehow, Tenacious P (for perfection) thrust her pelvis and bucked a high-riding Collins up her body just enough to find room to push a shoulder off the canvas.
This time Harley Jo had a hard time believing, turning her gaze to Castle who held two fingers aloft then raised the thumb and forefinger of his opposite hand keeping them about an inch apart.
“Nicky, boy,” Harley Jo asked, shaking her head softly. “You don’t have a soft spot for psychos, do you?”
“Only my wife,” he retorted with a sly grin.
Collins cocked her head, surprised but delighted by the answer.
“Fair enough.”
Collins latched onto a wrist and tugged Lisa to her knees, The Dream settling on her haunches, chin drooping.
“What’s wrong? Is perfection finding Rocky Top too tough to climb?
“Fuhh…”
“Wrong answer,” HJC interjected.
Collins scooped her arms under those of the rubbery Dream and muscled the lethargic champ to vertical. The powerful Volunteer moved alongside her foe, slipping Lisa’s near arm across her shoulders and wrapping her arms around The Dream’s near leg. With frightful ease, Harley Jo vaulted the Personification of Perfection into a back-flip ending with Lisa’s midriff plunging into a genuflecting HJC’s upper leg.
TILT-A-WHIRL GUTBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ELwWGfJvEpg
A groaning Lisa bellowed in pain as she slopped off Collins’ knee and ended on her bruised belly, the legendary Lisa’s face more pale than usual. Harley pushed the gagging Dream to her back and climbed aboard in a Lateral Press, hooking the near leg for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Again, Lisa Classic survived, rolling to her chest to avoid another pin-fall attempt. But the rampaging challenger mounted her facedown foe, driving a knee into the base of Lisa’s spinal column and capturing a wrist in each palm. Yanking back on both, the Tennessee Terror lived up to her name, at least as far as Lisa’s concerned, by creating a makeshift Surfboard that had The Dream yelping in anguish, her upper torso peeled off the deck in a cruel arch until the champ was gazing at the rafters.
“Ask if she wants to give up to a Southern-fried WannaDream!” Harley chuckled between gritting teeth.
“Whaddyasay Lisa?” Nick queried. “I’ll call it if you want.”
The Dream only groaned and shook her head slightly in response.
Unhappy with the reply, Collins rose to her full height, placed a boot behind the base of The Dream’s neck and CURBSTOMPED Lisa’s face into the thinly-sheathed plywood, The Dream’s forehead bouncing off the deck a little too much like a rubber ball.
A beaming Collins, drinking in the roar of the crowd, fashioned her hands into the shape of a spade and every single person in the arena knew Lisa’s time at the top had come to a brief and bitter end.
Harley Jo pulled the flaccid Dream up to a ragdoll-like vertical. Collins pushed the limp Lisa’s head downward and it momentarily appeared a Symphony of revenge might be in the offing. But when Harley underhooked one of The Dream’s wilted arms then did likewise with the other, it’s clear Collins will remain true to her sigil.
But as the challenger tried to lift Dream for the coupe de grace, Lisa of whatever color had the wherewithal to snake a leg around one of the long muscular versions of the Vicious Volunteer, keeping the Ultimate Image grounded.
“Come on sweetie. Time to send you back to the looney bin.” Harley coaxed.
Lisa shrieked with rage, breaking her arms free from the underhooks and wrapping the limbs around the thighs of the challenger. Yelling in a way of which any rebel would be proud, she hauled Harley off her feet and spilled the bigger brunette over the top with a Back Body Drop that delivered Collins’ spine to the canvas, HJC arching her backbone in pain from the impact. Lisa dropped to her haunches, dark eyes darting, a hint of froth gathering in the corners of her lips, her Scarlet persona bubbling to the surface.
“No, no, no, no, no, no, NO!” Lisa’s mantra ended in a stern growl, though whether the repeated negation was meant for her opponent or her redder half was unknown. The champion’s intentions proved much easier to decipher, as Dream wasted no time hiking up Collins’ simple black briefs once she’d reeled the penitent challenger into a Standing Headscissors.
“All right you malicious opossum-faced troglodyte!” the Ultimate Image snarled in the midst of squeeeeeeeeeezing Harley Jo’s head between her thighs. “I don’t usually bother with an encore, but it’s clear you need much more culture in your liWHOOOAAAAAAHHHH!”
The Witch of Razorback Holler braced her hands against Lisa’s knees and straightened up fast, but where The Dream had dumped her burden to the canvas, HJC was content to simply hold the smaller wrestler aloft on her should-- Collins shoved Lisa off her perch and twisted around beneath her so that she landed in a picture-perfect Electric Chair. Give The Dream credit, she crossed her ankles and hunched forward, presumably in search of a Dream Driver, alas this proved a fool’s errand because Harley Jo tossed her forward and dropped to a seat which ensured Lisa THWHAMMED down flat on her face, chest and tummy from a nauseating height!
ELECTRIC CHAIR POWERBOMB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=uG951BgaPAo
Still controlling the champ’s thighs after that brutal landing, Collins rolled to one knee which in turn flipped The Dream onto her back so the Southerner could plant her tush firmly in, you guessed it, the devastated cartography of Lisa’s perfect midriff. Already on their feet by the time Nick Castle swooped in beside the action, the FAWNatics added their voices to the count of…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOO!
Dream shoved Collins clear with half a heartbeat to spare, then popped to her feet and careened toward the far corner with both hands pressed to her face! “CRAHDY WHANNADREEM!” the Reflection of Perfection wailed through her muffling palms. “YOU BRODE MY NODE!”
Castle took this assertion with a grain of salt until he noted the small red splotch on the canvas right about where Lisa’s face touched down. Cursing quietly, the Senior Official fished some rubber gloves from his back pocket and slipped them on even as he hurried after around Harley Jo, who was headed in the same direction. “Hang back, Harley.” he said brusquely. “I need to make sure she’s fit to continue.”
“Shyt on that.” Collins countered. “You’ll get all the confirmation you need after I bounce her face a few more times.” Striding ahead of the worried zebra, Harley Jo reached out, caught hold of the champ’s shoulder and whipped her ‘round to compound the damage she’d done with the Electric Chair Power-- “AHHH FAHK!”
HJC stumbled back like she was on roller skates, the Tennessee Terror scrubbing furiously at the eye Lisa had just jabbed with her perfect thumb!
Castle’s curse was much louder this time, as he was abruptly forced to choose between checking on the champion or the challenger. A quick assessment confirmed that there was in fact blood streaming from The Dream’s nose, so he sidled by Harley Jo and hurried over to Lisa. “Let me see your nose, Lisa.” he coaxed. “Do I need to get Dr. Vannacutt out--”
“NO DOCTORS!”
The leather-clad brunette planted both hands against the ref’s chest and shoved HARD! Caught off balance, Castle backpedaled with his arms windmilling frantically and would’ve gone down flat on his ass if Harley Jo hadn’t caught him by the shoulders.
“Can I smash her face in now, stripes?” Collins asked once she’d set the poor dope on his feet.
“As long as you keep it in the confines of the rules.”
The Vicious Volunteer just snorted and went straight at the Bloodied Image of Human Perfe-- Lisa rushed out to meet her with a Low Dropkick that THWHAPPED against the challenger’s knees! Harley Jo pitched forward but managed to catch hold of the top rope to prevent her face from going straight into the top turn… Collins took a deep breath and shook her head in disbelief as she realized she was mere inches from a ring of exposed steel. “Crazy bytch.” she muttered. “You’re gonna wish you’d stayed locked AAAAAWWWW GAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWD!”
Perfectly positioned between the prone challenger and the perturbed ref, Red Lisa stepped up and SLAMMED a vicious punt between Harley Jo’s thighs! Knees clapped together in the wake of this hateful shot, Collins tightened her grip on the rubber-coated steel in the hopes of maintaining vertic-- “NGH! NGH! NGH! NGH! NGH! NNNNNNNGGGGHHH!”
The Carmine Killer leapt onto the middle strand, snatched a double handful of Harley Jo’s hair and bounced her unsuspecting face against the exposed rung no less than half a dozen times! Collins tried her damndest to get an arm between her face and the steel, but after the third impact her arms were dangling limply over the top rope. Such a sign of vulnerability would’ve been more than enough for most people, alas Red Lisa wasn’t most people, (in fact some would argue she wasn’t people at all) so when the bludgeoning was done the abrading began, the champ just draaaaaaaaaaagging Harley Jo’s forehead back ‘n forth!
Astounded by just how quickly The Dream’s murderous alter-ego had manifested, Castle rushed up beside the action and barked out, “GET OFF HER, DREAM! ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!”
Lisa hopped down, twisted ‘round in mid-air and went at the referee. Walking him straight into the corner, the champion drew up a few inches short, then dabbed two fingers in the blood beneath her nostrils and made two ugly red smears on each cheek. Another few seconds passed before she whispered, “Dream’s not here, doctor man.”
Nick swallowed the lump in his throat, nodded once. “My mistake. Won’t happen again.”
But Red Lisa wasn’t listening, she’d dismissed Nick in favor of more interesting prey as soon as she heard a roar from the crowd. Shambling toward the center like an escapee from a Romero film, Harley Jo Collins wiped the worst of the blood from her face before she beckoned Lisa forward. “Thuuuuhhh… that all you got, ya crazy bytch?” she paused to spit blood on the canvas. “I thought you came here to fighEERRGGGHH!”
Red Lisa rushed her showing an Eye Rake only to pump another vile knee into the big brunette’s crotch when she caught hold of her wrists! Tearing free immediately thereafter, the Cracked Reflection of Human Depravity hit the ropes full tilt boogie and came just as fast all so she could deliver a perfect overhand Forearm Smash, the Dreamsicle just THWHAPPING down across the base of Harley Jo’s skull.
That crippling brain freeze should’ve put HJC flat on her face, but somehow the battle-tested veteran only collapsed to one knee! This didn’t seem to bother Red Lisa in the slightest, in fact she showed the world a pink-tinged smile when she hauled Harley up with a double handful of hair. Turning her back on the bigger brunette, Lisa reached over her right shoulder with both hands to secure Collins’ bleeding pate in a Three Quarters Facelock. Then she kicked her right leg forward and snapped it back to lay out on her stomach while poor Harley Jo was THWHONKED down on the crown of her skull!
DAY DREAMER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=xas0-oCch9g
Hurled into a swirling vermilion vortex courtesy of that maniacal Day Dreamer, Collins slopped down on her back in a defenseless sprawl offered no resistance when Red Lisa settled into a north-south cover and hooked the right leg in a Half Matchbook for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
Lisa nodded as the bell sounded, though distress flashed across her perfect features when the Announcer confirmed, “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, YOUR WINNER VIA PIN-FALL AND STILL THE FAWN WORLD CHAMPION… LISA DREAM!”
The flabbergasted FAWNatics shifted from stunned silence to jaded jeers for the vile victory of the champion. The announcement not only flipped a switch with the crowd but with the legendary Lisa. Hearing she’s retained her title and, in so doing, her utter impeccability, The Dream released Collins’ leg. She flopped to the side, ending on her back in an exhausted starfish.
Bringing both sets of fingers to her beak, she pressed her nose, momentarily more worried about her flawless features than her gold.
“What the hell did you do?”
The nasal tone of the Cracked Image was in less than perfect pitch and the thought was driving The Dream to distraction. It’s clearly a first-world problem of Lisa Classic than the feral Red version of the World Champ, so when she rose, Lisa demanded her belt and a mirror rather than tearing the defenseless Harley Jo to shreds.
“Give it to me,” The Dream snorted, snatching the gold and leather and raising it high to the displeasure of the arena’s occupants.
“Welcome back,” Castle said, lifting Lisa’s opposite arm to show off FAWN’s queen of the hill.
“Shut your mouth,” Classic growled, ripping her arm away from the zebra.
“There’s only me.”
Lisa pointed at the stilled Tennessee Terror.
“I did that, Wannadream.”
She turned her attention back to the crowd.
“THERE’S ONLY ME! I AM THE BEST! I AM LISA DREAM!”