Puppers and Puppies
RUE ANN MACKENNA:
Rue Ann sits in a crate and looks out on the cityscape of Orlando at night. She chugs her beer and tries to appreciate the city below. Coming up here always helps her collect her thoughts. It also reminds her of people she knew, like a wrestler who told the world she was a superhero. Rue still chooses to believe, wherever that woman is, it was probably true.
She throws back the last of the stout and tosses the empty bottle into a nearby basket before looking down at the cooler that’s easily almost the same size as her. It’s brimming with ice and various bottles, of which she pokes around to find her next drink.
A hand knocks twice on the door jamb to the roof, “Mackenna? How are ya now?”
Standing at the doorway was Rue Ann’s conquered foe of that evening Hazeema McMurray, accompanied by her clients and life long friends Olunike Waite and La Sombra. The young trio made up the Canadian stable branded The Northern Coalition.
HAZEEMA MCMURRAY
OLUNIKE WAITE
LA SOMBRA
A lopsided smile comes across Rue Ann’s face, “You actually showed! Props to ya!” She raises a beer to them, “Come on down, enough crates for everyone.”
As the diverse group comes toward her Rue sees they did not come empty-handed. McMurray and Sombra each have a six-pack of beer called “Puppers” with an adorable labrador on the label, while Olunike had a portable grill and clear bag of frozen stakes.
Rue notices the beers. “Aww, ya didn’t have to. I brought a few extras.” She motions to the absurd pile of drinks and thumbs through the bottles. “Moosehead, Dragon Stout, Molson Export, Sleeman’s Honey Brown.” She looks back at the trio. “I wasn’t sure what your preferences were and I wasn’t about to insult anyone with Coors.” Rue Ann pulls out a stout and knocks the cap off with her church key, which she tosses to Hazeema for use.
She gulps from the beer. “Well, you brought a grill, so you all three didn’t come to jump me unless you plan on grilling my tits…” She pauses and shrugs. “Which would be fair.” Rue Ann finally catches herself. “Ugh, my mama would smack me. Hi, I’m Rue Ann!” She juts her hand out toward Hazeema’s clients.
Olunike sets down the grill and meats, wraps one hand near her belt buckle and takes Mackenna’s hand with the other in a strong grip, “Olunike Waite. Pleasure to meet you. Good fight.”
The tallest of the group does not smile or give any indication of pleasure, but Rue sees no malice in her eyes and the handshake is of a polite firmness. Waite is dressed in her standard casual wear of workman’s boots, blue jeans and a fully buttoned flannel shirt. Tucked in of course. Her formal mannerisms and stoic face didn’t hide the fact that this woman turns heads when she walks by.
LA Sombra steps up next and takes Rue’s hand in both of hers, “I am La Sombra, The Laughing Skull, thank you for breaking that man’s hand.” The Mexi-Canadian went sans facepaint letting her strikingly beautiful face go unfiltered, Dressed in a silk beige crop top with flared wrists and collars and dark form-fitting jeans, Rue was certain she wanted to test drive all the fresh recruits once she had her fun with pigtails.
“Gotta teach pigs to behave or they’ll run all over you,” Mackenna sneaks a peek down La Sombra’s presented cleavage before turning to the grill at the sound of sizzling meat. Hazeema spread four slabs of thick steaks on the grill. The battered but bright rookie seemed to take her loss in stride. Donning her now trademark black skirt that had redhead’s fingers twitching to grab that ass again, Hazeema was braless and her red blouse unbuttoned… but her treasured chest was covered by a FAWN trademarked ice pack fashioned to wrap around the upper body. Nicknamed “The Glass Cutter” by the girls in the back.
Rue turns and smiles back at La Sombra. “I promise you, it was my pleasure. I learned to do that back when I was a bouncer at a strip club.” She sips the beer and shrugs. “FAWN management, however, is not as thankful.”
Hazeema looks back at Rue Ann and cocks an eyebrow. “Did they slap you on the wrist?”
“On the wallet,” Rue Ann replies. “This and my next three paychecks don’t exist ‘cuz I’m getting fined for touching a fan. Also, they’re weighing a suspension for a month.”
La Sombra’s voice rises slightly, trying not to betray her anger at this. “He groped Hazeema! He touched her and broke the bond between audience and fighter.”
“And I broke the bond between his hand and his wrist,” Rue says, her smile even bigger.
Olunike shakes her head as if she’s trying to shake this absurdity off. “You’ve done worse to women in the ring.”
“You did worse to me,” Hazeema adds, hugging her girls closer to her chest.
“That’s the thing,” Rue Ann replies. She points the beer at Hazeema. “You can’t sue FAWN for what I did to you in the ring ‘cuz you’re a fighter.”
Hearing Rue Ann call her that is oddly comforting. A slight warm glow builds in Hazeema’s chest as Rue Ann continues.
“Same with any woman I’ve fought. I can’t sue for anything done to me. But a fan, well, when they buy the ticket they assume they’re going to see hot women fighting and maybe more,” Rue gives a wink to Hazeema. “Not get a perfect bone break, and the asshole’s already lawyered up. Granted, it’s also been broadcast to multiple countries that he groped a fighter so it probably won’t go far, but I annoyed management and I made security look bad.” MacKenna rolls her eyes. “They are very sensitive, and their union leader is more so. I got a lecture on emasculating those who work so hard to ensure our safety.”
“Clearly not hard enough,” Olunike takes a Dragon stout of politeness and pops the cap off with her thumb, which Rue considers very impressive since it was a twist-off.
“We were having a match in a bar down in Regina, and a drunk grabbed Sombra’s ass,” Olunike takes a sip,” I punched his ticket and we had to take down a whole birthday party. No one was recording and the guys didn’t want to admit to the cops that 20 men got beat up by a few girls.”
“Hah! I’m starting to like you Canucks.”
A few minutes later the enticing smell and sound of sizzling steaks fill the roof. “Here ya go,” McMurray slides some meat on La Sombra’s plate, “ Get yourself some Berta beef.”
“Whoa, whoa… ” Olunike puts up a cautious hand, “....where’s the salt and pepper, bud?”
Hazeema brandishes a spatula threateningly, “Don’t you start that with me!”
“S and P. The choice for me,” Waite speaks age-old wisdom and takes another sip of stout. Rue Ann chews her stake and watches as all three debate different culinary styles of grilling.
Hazeema angrily waves her spatula at her cohorts before turning to Rue Ann. “What do you think? How do you season steak?”
Rue swallows a chunk of the meat. “I mean, a good steak shouldn’t need any seasoning besides the blood coming out of it.”
Hazeema triumphantly points to Rue Ann as if she’s been backed up.
“But Mama always made a steak glaze. A li’l bit of peach, a li’l bit of habanero. Some salt, some vinegar.” She cuts another piece up. “I’m surprised none of you are going to bat of HP Sauce.”
Olunike cocks her head at the little ginger. “You know about House of Parliment sauce?! They get that down here?”
Rue Ann shakes her head. “Naw. From age four to seven, we spent half the year livin’ in parts of the Great White North. Mama was still wrasslin’ then. Spent some time in Alberta, about a year total in Ontario, and a bit of time in New Brunswick when an old stablemate of her was trying to start a promotion there.” She wipes some of the steak’s blood from her chin. “Maple Maidens n Mayhem. It was around for a bit before getting bought out.”
La Sombra stares at Rue Ann. “Who is your mother?”
“Jolene MacKenna,” Rue Ann says, fighting back dread. She’d managed to live out of her mom’s shadow but it always loomed, although she is desperately proud of her mom’s legacy. “Started out in ‘77 as Sweet Baby MacKenna for the first all-women’s cable promotion. By ‘80, she was Mountain Honey MacKenna. By ‘82, most people called her that Goddamn Monster MacKenna and cursed her stable, Hedonism.” Rue Ann steadies a beer at her lips. “She runs the Kentucky Killhouse now, a training school. Tries to straddle old school and the newer styles.”
“Oh we know her!” Hazeema chirped up, “ She could really scrap, and the Maple Maidens still has a following up north.”
Olunike nodded raising a beer to Rue. “ Yeah, Hedonism left they’re on wrestling. In and out of the ring… not that I’m telling tales out of school mind you…”
Mackenna agrees silently, not wanting to explore further on the topic of her mother’s success, or her stable’s. Personal reason aside she’s gotten into many a fight defending their choices to a heartbroken fan or an old vet bearing a grudge. Picking up On the ginger’s change in mood Hazeema pivots the conversation to the night’s events. “Hey, nice fight tonight. Not How imagined my debut going but this is FAWN after all so I knew it was a possibility, huh?” She pops the tab on a Puppers and hands it to the hillbilly.
Rue, takes the beer with a haughty smirk. "Sure, the beating sucked, but you gotta admit my sleight of hand skills proves I'm a perfect rogue."
The other members of The N.C. go still as they wait to see their manager’s reaction before acting on the impulse to defend her and attack Rue.
Hazeema shakes her head side to side weighing up the events of the bout, "...... I cannot deny that." Waite and Sombra visibly relax but they still reserve the right to beat ginger ass if things get heated.
Rue winks. "I must be a little bit mage cuz I know I cast Mordenkainen's lubrication in your pussy," Olunike stops herself before drinking her beer and screws up her face in disgust, “ Oh that’s offsides bud.”
McMurray puts a hand, she’s been humbled enough, "You were rolling hot tonight, I freely admit that but I got a big jump in experience points and I'll be a whole different challenge rating next time."
Rue sips her drink and smiles. "You went from level one to level five. But Tiamat is Tiamat, sweet tits."
Haz points a finger at the redhead from her drinking hand while Sombra subtly moves behind Mackenna, Ready to break an empty beer bottle over her dome."I was at least level 3! I nearly had you tapping at several points."
"Darn those regen powers," Rue says jokingly, throwing a beer back. "Seriously, though, were you not trained for taking it out of the ring?"
Hazeema shrugs, "No. Only in-ring and exercises. My trainer was from a very formal, British circuit."
"That's great in Britain, but you're not there right now. Heaven help you if you go down to Mexico." Rue tilts a beer to the rookie, "You've gotta get some hardcore training. You've gotta be able to take worse than what I gave you cuz there's way worse than me out there."
Hazeema absentmindedly adjusts her icepack bra, "I believe that, but once I heal up I have to avenge myself for that display. You and me, doesn't have to be next ppv but at some point, I'm gonna cast compel duel!"
Rue shrugs, "I'll forego a saving throw and let the spell succeed. But next time, I'm making you cum if you don't do better. I'm gonna know your taste." She smiles, "Not that I think you'll mind."
Sombra and Olunike meet eyes, still measuring whether or not to turn this into a stomp session. A wave of conflicting emotion clouds Hazeema's face before answering "it'll be a low DC on that persuasion check, true. Next time though I'm coming out on top! And by that, I mean winning, not... the other thing, You know what I mean!" Flustered, she sticks out a hand for the Kentucky native to shake.
Rue takes Hazeema's hand, then yanks her in for a long, deep kiss. As she pulls away, she smiles. "We don't have to wait for a match for you to cum out on top, you know."
McMurray purses her lips and considers the offer, "..... You stomped on my breasts from the top rope, I'm absolutely too sore for that tonight. Raincheck?"
Rue contemplates. "Fair, although I give good tit massages." She looks down at Hazeema's rack. "Feel better, sweater puppies." And gives each a quick peck.
"Heheh," she hates it but she's charmed by that.
“Tell you what,” Rue says. “Let’s make it interesting. Let’s make it a stipulation match. Something that’ll make the fans go wild but also keep all the action in the ring.” She gestures to Hazeema’s lovely chest and the ice pack. “So there’s a little less need for this.”
Hazeema perks up but her cohorts tense. It’s like hearing the Devil start to lay out an offer, no matter how nice she’s been tonight.
“Go on,” Hazeema bids.”
“Covered cage match,” Rue says, killing off one beer before opening the next. “No one gets in after the bell rings, and no one gets out till it’s done. And the only way to win is submission. No pinfalls, no knockouts, no DQ.”
Hazeema chews her lower lip, considering the possibilities. It would definitely remove the portion of tonight’s match where she lost complete and total control. But Olunike and La Sombra exchange worried glances.
“So no guardrails, no steel steps--”
“No gropey fans,” Hazeema adds in with a smile.
Rue Ann nods solemnly. “I will definitely miss getting to break a wrist or three, but yes. That element will be removed. The loser is the one to verbal give up. No tapping.”
Hazeema imagines having Rue Ann under her complete control and hearing her have to scream out, “I quit!” It’s hard to deny it’s enticing… especially as she imagines everything else she’ll get to do to her, and Rue’s obvious state of undress in the fantasy.
“This is sounding good,” Hazeema admits. “So an ‘I Quit’ match.”
Rue ponders. “Yelling ya quit is embarrassing. But what say we up the humiliation factor.” La Sombra steps forward and looks ready to speak. Rue looks at her and smiles but says firmly, “I’m challenging Hazeema. This is between myself and her. No disrespect, but she’s entering the ring and challenges are part of it. If she doesn’t like what I’m offering, she can say no and we’ll never discuss my idea again.”
La Sombra weighs this but hesitantly steps back. Rue looks back to Hazeema.
“Instead of ‘I Quit,’ the loser has to scream, ‘I’m a little bitch’ to get the match to end.” Rue smiles. “I’m sure you’d love to hear me cry that out.”
Hazeema freezes. Yes, she would. But having to yell it herself….
“Oh,” Rue says. She looks at Olunike and La Sombra. “And maybe don’t just kick my ass for this offer - let her at least just say no.” The addendum puts both women into high alert. “The winner gets to do what they want to the loser, uninterrupted, after the match. So the cage doesn’t release the loser till the winner has her satisfaction.” The hillbilly winks.
“Wait a second!” Olunike yells. “I don’t like this one bit!”
“Then I won’t challenge you to this match,” Rue states flatly. “But, again, I’m challenging Hazeema and it’s her fight to agree to or pass on.” She looks back at the rookie fighter. “Look, there’s obvious high risk but also high reward.” Rue Ann leans back and teasingly pulls at the collar of her hope to show off her cleavage. “After all, I bet you’d really enjoy making me pay back everything for tonight. You can even let your friends have a turn on me if I lose.”
“That’s not how we do things!” McMurray’s squeaks. The very idea leaving her feeling scandalized. “But… just being in the match gets our group attention from the big leagues, I know management loves a good gimmick when they can sneak one through.’
“That they do.” Rue gives a single nod.
“Alright. Let's do it. Go big or go home right?” Hazeema sticks out her hand to shake on it, “No matter who wins, we’ll keep it clean and we’ll with respect after. Deal?” Unseen by Hazeema and Rue, Olunike and La Sombra communicate something silently and make a prophecy of action that will be determined by Mackenna’s action on the night of the match.
Rue Ann takes Hazeema’s hand and yanks her close, pulling her into a hard, deep kiss. Hazeema barely knows what’s going on before strong arms wrap around her and she feels Rue’s firm, warm body crushed against hers. But… she hates to admit it, it’s a good kiss. She closes her eyes and enjoys it, replying with as much passion before Rue Ann finally disengages. Hazeema’s head feels as though it’s beginning to spin.
“It’s a date,” Rue says slyly. Her face grows serious for a moment. “But I’m coming at you hard in this match. Just ‘cuz we can’t go outside the ring doesn’t mean this won’t be brutal. It will be harder than tonight.” She looks to La Sombra and Olunike. “You two need to unteach her that polite nonsense whoever filled her head with across the pond and prepare her for a knock-down, drag-out ‘white trash party that ran out of whiskey’ style fight.”
The two women look at each other and nod.
Rue Ann looks back at Hazeema. “And I’m dead serious. If I win, they don’t interfere with my playtime with you - just like no one will stop you from having your way with me.”
“What will happen if we do interfere?” Olunike asks, half daring Rue Ann to threaten her.
The response isn’t what was expected. The ginger looks at the Canadian fwrestler. “Then you’ll show all of FAWN that Hazeema can’t keep her word when it comes to a challenge, and that she has to be bailed out, which will be unfair to her.”
Olunike squints and weighs this. She’d expected angry threats or a promise of reprisal. Not logic.
Hazeema cups Rue Ann’s chin and turns it to her. “Just us. This is our fight.” She smiles. “And I’m going to make you regret this challenge.”
“Kinky,” Rue replies. “I might be into that.” She looks back to the cooler and begins to dig. “Well, now that’s over and your friends here haven’t just lunged at me. Who wants dessert? There’s a bakery in town and the owner’s Canadian. He says these are traditional desserts up there.” Rue Ann pulls out two packages. “We’ve got butter tarts and blueberry grunts.” She looks up at the women. “I’m still not convinced he wasn’t making names up.”
Desserts are had. Stories of fights, in and out of the ring are shared. After a couple of hours, the Northern Coalition depart with Hazeema beaming while her compatriots are polite but concerned. When it’s just Rue Ann she reaches into her back pocket and retrieves the phone she’s felt buzzing all night. She unlocks it to see a series of texts of messages from her mother.
“You don’t offer to meet your enemies for beers!” the first one reads.
“You don’t build a dynasty on civility,” bellows the second text.
“I know what you’re thinking. I was young and naive, too,” explains the third. “But I know how this ends. Learn from my mistakes. She’ll never be anything but a body to drop.”
Rue stares at the last message for a minute before deleting it, and all the other unread messages. She looks out over the city of Orlando and its lights, trying not to think about anything but a good evening and a nice kiss.
