Post by hawkeye on May 3, 2021 23:24:43 GMT
An hour after March to War…
The ‘FAWN.com Exclusive’ logo faded out to reveal Joanna Coleman sitting on a bench in the locker room beside Becky Clayton. A far cry from her recent post PPV appearances, the Camouflage Crusher looked grim and downright exhausted as she held a heavy icepack to the back of her neck.
BECKY CLAYTON:
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m here with Becky Clayton. Becky, obviously a disappointing end to the night. It was a battle from bell to bell, but Amara Singh overcame your best efforts and in doing so became the new FAWN World Champion. Now, we’ve been friends for a long time so I hope you’ll forgive me for starting with a stupid question. How are you feeling?”
Clayton took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders a couple times before answering. “It’s not stupid, Jo. It’s the question a friend would ask and I appreciate it. Right now I’m far from my best, clearly. I spent a lot of time in various versions of the Camel Clutch tonight and I know I’m going to be feeling it for the next several days. And then there’s the issue of my knee, which Baby decided to wrap around the ring-post late in the match. So right now? I’m not great. I’m hurting, disappointed and most of all, angry. You know what I’m not? Broken. Amara might have the World Title tonight, but we both know that match could’ve gone my way, especially if I’d played it smarter and just kicked Baby’s head off her shoulders at the first opportunity.”
Joanna nodded, waited a beat before asking her next question. “So I take it that means you plan to invoke a rematch as soon as possible?”
Clayton shrugged her shoulders which caused another grimace of pain. “I’ve been here for more than a decade and never once kissed Bethany Christian’s ass, so I’m probably not in a position to invoke much of anything, unfortunately. And if VanBuren’s going to be running interference on Amara’s challengers in the front office that could mean it’s a long time before I get in the ring with her again. But I’ve never been one to invoke, ask or demand, Jo. I’m more than happy to EARN things and if that’s what I have to do to get back to the World Title, then that’s what I’ll… what the hell do you want?”
SIERRA MIST:
Joanna looked up from her subject and was startled to find Sierra Mist watching from all of ten feet away. Smiling at the blonde’s question, the doctor turned patient turned harbinger replied, “I have a message, Rebecca. The Red Moon is rising. When it reaches its zenith, the feast will begin. We do hope you’ll join us… you’re the main course, after--”
Becky stood up and took a threatening step toward Sierra. “You don’t scare me, Mist. Talk all the spooky bullshyt you want, everyone knows you’re just a puppet. So do me a favor, why don’t you? If the puppeteer is so eager to give me a message, tell her she can do it herseNNNNGGGHHH!”
Adelaide Brewster came out of nowhere with a Double Axehandle that smashed into the back of Becky’s injured neck! The Camouflage Crusher pitched forward onto her hands and knees, started to rise and cursed aloud when the Brewster buried two hands in her hair. Bex winced and balled her hands into fists only to shriek in surprised anguish when the Daughter of Darkness began yanking her head from side to side!
ADELAIDE BREWSTER:
“Hey, get off her, Adelaide! She’s in no shape to fight!” Joanna shouted. “Security! I need security in here!” Brewster paid her no mind, though Sierra Mist moved to the door and managed to lock it tight a good five seconds before someone started pounding on the outside.
Hauling Clayton to her feet after the brutal neck punishment, Adelaide pointed her toward a bank of lockers and charged across the tiles to BUH-WHAAAAAM! the now former World Champion’s head against the battered gray steel. Becky shuddered violently, but managed to put a steadying hand against the lockers. She was still fighting to clear the fog between her ears when Adelaide murmured, “The time for gold is past, chattel. The only color that matters now is red. And I promise, there’s a great deal of it in your future.”
“Fuuuhhhh… f*ck AAAAARRRRRRRGGGGAAAAAWWWW!” Becky screamed long and loud when Brewster wrenched her head back and bit down on the side of her neck!
Gnawing and worrying at the vulnerable flesh for almost ten seconds, the Darling of the Abattoir let go and stepped back, her absence finally allowing Clayton to crumple to her knees. “Consider this your invitation to the feast, soldier.” Brewster murmured after she wiped a thumb across her bottom lip. “I do hope you’ll accept.”
Not peckish enough to wait for an answer, Adelaide turned away and brushed by Joanna to stroll through the door so graciously opened by Sierra Mist. Baring her teeth at the startled officials crowding the hall, Brewster left Joanna Coleman tending to Becky with nothing but a faint, nasty laugh to prove she’d ever been there.
The ‘FAWN.com Exclusive’ logo faded out to reveal Joanna Coleman sitting on a bench in the locker room beside Becky Clayton. A far cry from her recent post PPV appearances, the Camouflage Crusher looked grim and downright exhausted as she held a heavy icepack to the back of her neck.
BECKY CLAYTON:
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m here with Becky Clayton. Becky, obviously a disappointing end to the night. It was a battle from bell to bell, but Amara Singh overcame your best efforts and in doing so became the new FAWN World Champion. Now, we’ve been friends for a long time so I hope you’ll forgive me for starting with a stupid question. How are you feeling?”
Clayton took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders a couple times before answering. “It’s not stupid, Jo. It’s the question a friend would ask and I appreciate it. Right now I’m far from my best, clearly. I spent a lot of time in various versions of the Camel Clutch tonight and I know I’m going to be feeling it for the next several days. And then there’s the issue of my knee, which Baby decided to wrap around the ring-post late in the match. So right now? I’m not great. I’m hurting, disappointed and most of all, angry. You know what I’m not? Broken. Amara might have the World Title tonight, but we both know that match could’ve gone my way, especially if I’d played it smarter and just kicked Baby’s head off her shoulders at the first opportunity.”
Joanna nodded, waited a beat before asking her next question. “So I take it that means you plan to invoke a rematch as soon as possible?”
Clayton shrugged her shoulders which caused another grimace of pain. “I’ve been here for more than a decade and never once kissed Bethany Christian’s ass, so I’m probably not in a position to invoke much of anything, unfortunately. And if VanBuren’s going to be running interference on Amara’s challengers in the front office that could mean it’s a long time before I get in the ring with her again. But I’ve never been one to invoke, ask or demand, Jo. I’m more than happy to EARN things and if that’s what I have to do to get back to the World Title, then that’s what I’ll… what the hell do you want?”
SIERRA MIST:
Joanna looked up from her subject and was startled to find Sierra Mist watching from all of ten feet away. Smiling at the blonde’s question, the doctor turned patient turned harbinger replied, “I have a message, Rebecca. The Red Moon is rising. When it reaches its zenith, the feast will begin. We do hope you’ll join us… you’re the main course, after--”
Becky stood up and took a threatening step toward Sierra. “You don’t scare me, Mist. Talk all the spooky bullshyt you want, everyone knows you’re just a puppet. So do me a favor, why don’t you? If the puppeteer is so eager to give me a message, tell her she can do it herseNNNNGGGHHH!”
Adelaide Brewster came out of nowhere with a Double Axehandle that smashed into the back of Becky’s injured neck! The Camouflage Crusher pitched forward onto her hands and knees, started to rise and cursed aloud when the Brewster buried two hands in her hair. Bex winced and balled her hands into fists only to shriek in surprised anguish when the Daughter of Darkness began yanking her head from side to side!
ADELAIDE BREWSTER:
“Hey, get off her, Adelaide! She’s in no shape to fight!” Joanna shouted. “Security! I need security in here!” Brewster paid her no mind, though Sierra Mist moved to the door and managed to lock it tight a good five seconds before someone started pounding on the outside.
Hauling Clayton to her feet after the brutal neck punishment, Adelaide pointed her toward a bank of lockers and charged across the tiles to BUH-WHAAAAAM! the now former World Champion’s head against the battered gray steel. Becky shuddered violently, but managed to put a steadying hand against the lockers. She was still fighting to clear the fog between her ears when Adelaide murmured, “The time for gold is past, chattel. The only color that matters now is red. And I promise, there’s a great deal of it in your future.”
“Fuuuhhhh… f*ck AAAAARRRRRRRGGGGAAAAAWWWW!” Becky screamed long and loud when Brewster wrenched her head back and bit down on the side of her neck!
Gnawing and worrying at the vulnerable flesh for almost ten seconds, the Darling of the Abattoir let go and stepped back, her absence finally allowing Clayton to crumple to her knees. “Consider this your invitation to the feast, soldier.” Brewster murmured after she wiped a thumb across her bottom lip. “I do hope you’ll accept.”
Not peckish enough to wait for an answer, Adelaide turned away and brushed by Joanna to stroll through the door so graciously opened by Sierra Mist. Baring her teeth at the startled officials crowding the hall, Brewster left Joanna Coleman tending to Becky with nothing but a faint, nasty laugh to prove she’d ever been there.