Post by hawkeye on Jul 5, 2021 14:37:34 GMT
Perhaps inevitably, after the World Champion put the California Angel in the hospital after Spring Break and left Lady Liberty looking like a tired, poor and huddled mass after Mayhem, ethereal chimes draw the FAWNatics’ attention to her Summer Swelter opponent. The crowd remains hopeful the Disney-adjacent royalty can do what her Greater Good cohorts could not, as the heavenly strings transport everyone in the arena to a faraway place and time.
Giselle’s Theme ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=oEBNIzOIbVs ) by Lindsey Stirling
Feeling a flight of fancy, the crowd’s murmurs grow in anticipation as they crane their necks to see the beautiful heroine Lady Liberty brought to the organization. The fans are not disappointed by the sight of the fresh-faced brunette appearing from stage right.
PRINCESS GISELLE
The rookie moves to center stage as many gaze in wonder at a woman torn out of a fairy tale. The dark-haired beauty wears what can only be called FAWNticized Sleeping Beauty gear.
( www.amiclubwear.com/costume-storybook-jj1-4615sultrysnow.html ) red boots instead of pumps
She strides to the ring bouncing between each side of the aisle, making certain to touch each fan reaching. Her beaming smile is muted after the destruction of her teammates in back-to-back pay-per-views, but she continues to melt the hearts of those around her.
As the crowd loudly demonstrates its approval, the ovation grows when Giselle lifts a silver wand high and blasts a glitter bomb into the air above, scattering metallic, glimmering confetti into the front rows.
The radiant Princess ascends the steps and enters, moving to the middle where she curtsies cutely to the fans. When the roar finally lowers, the ring announcer realizes his opportunity.
“Our next match is scheduled for one fall with a 60-minute time limit and is for the FAWN WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP. Standing five feet and weighing 115 pounds, hailing from the Magic Kingdom, the stunning Belle of the Brawl…PRINCESS GISELLE!”
The stunning brunette waves to every corner of the arena, a new ovation bubbling around her. Giselle moves to the corner farthest from the entrance, handing over her wand and letting Castle pat her down. Finding nothing wrong with the paragon of virtue and corporate cuteness, Nick tosses the enchanted baton to a FAWN attendant as all eyes move to the upper stage, waiting for the bombshell title holder and her so-called ‘co-champion’.
With the rampage the golden-brown goddess is on, the crowd can only imagine how arrogant the Empress and her contemptuous manager will be.
The FAWNatics aren’t held in suspense for long, as the captivating groove of Priyanka Chopra and Pitbull’s "Exotic” breaks through the buzz, heralding the imminent arrival of the gilded Subcontinental Siren.
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sPhhZg9v9NU ).
Materializing is a set of musclebound men clad in gold loin clothes and sandals. They carry their Subcontinental Siren. Excited yet repulsed by the appearance of the Empress, the despicable Singh draws the enmity of nearly every arena occupant.
AMARA SINGH
The behemoths carry the ornate bed where upon the Bombshell lies. As the ‘exotic’ grappler is carried toward the ring on the curious conveyance, the FAWNatics batter her with boos. The anger only grows when the long-scorned Manhattanite appears, VanBuren shouting directions at Singh’s transporters.
PORTIA VANBUREN
Flawless in her immaculate, white tennis togs; a form-fitting, Louis Vuitton tank, short skirt with white socks and thousand-dollar tennies, tonight’s main event participant skips past and leads the men and their beloved Empress to the war zone.
The greedy hands of Fortune’s Favorite hold the World Title belt, Baby patting and lifting the hardware high as if she’s the title’s owner. No longer does the blonde point to her charge when featuring the symbol of dominance, FAWN’s only manager to ever lead a woman to a Tag and World Title belt now considering herself as much a champion as the woman who’s been fighting in the ring.
Behind and above, the copper-skinned beauty is clearly annoyed at VanBuren’s antics. She calls for the belt to be given to her. Baby either doesn’t hear the call over the crowd’s boisterous hate or acts s much. The men follow Portia’s direction as she leads them to the squared circle and the Princess within.
The announcer greets the spectacular arrival of the Subcontinent’s most acclaimed warrior.
"And her opponent! Standing 5 feet 6 inches tall and weighing in at 133 pounds from Cawnpore, India…the Empress…the Bollywood Bombshell…AND THE FAWN WORLD CHAMPION…AMARA SINGH!"
Having reached their destination, the men lower the palanquin until it is even with the apron. Singh gracefully slides from bedside to ringside. Portia takes the nearby steps and helps Amara slip from beneath a sparkling golden robe, revealing the curvy form beneath.
The momentary striptease draws a round of rabid applause within the jeers, Singh dropping a pearly sneer upon the peasants before snatching her belt from Baby. She moves through the ropes, taking center stage.
Amara is clad in her iconic and lavishly designed, gold bra with matching gold and red, lacy harem pants, her feet bare. Singh’s raven tresses fall just past her shoulders in wild waves, dark copper skin glowing under the lights. The Bombshell raises a microphone to her full rosy lips, but VanBuren, having entered behind, requests Amara provide her the amplifier.
After considerable thought, Singh hands the stick to her representative.
“Bow down to Your Empress,” Portia demands, the crowd not having it.
“Tonight, we eliminate the last vestige of a group that was neither great nor good. There is no room for pretenders as champions and this will be shown soon enough.”
The brief cryptic message is sufficient for the slender socialite. Sneering at their jeers, VanBuren drops the mic and leads Singh to her corner. Amara reluctantly hands over the organization’s top prize and watches Baby hop to the floor below, only then turning her full attention to Giselle, the final domino standing in her effort to accentuate her control of FAWN.
The most recent addition to the Greater Good doesn’t seem cowed by the losses of her compatriots to Amara. Singh put Colleen O’Neal in the hospital and rocked the Independence Day right out of Lady Liberty, but the brunette isn’t timid, charging Amara. A startled Singh, not ready for quite so much aggression, swings her head and torso between the upper and middle ropes, calling on Castle to keep the challenger back.
Nick obliges, providing Amara a shield. The Bollywood Bombshell reenters and shoots an arm over the official’s shoulder, poking the dark brown pools of the Disney-adjacent royalty.
Giselle yelps in pain. She turns and retreats from Castle. Nick turns and shoots lasers at the champion.
“What did you see?” Singh asks and when no immediate reply comes, she adds “That’s right.”
Singh stalks her foe, waiting for the blinded brunette to turn in her direction before linking arms at the elbows and pivoting to toss her across the canvas with an arm drag. Giselle rolls up from her tumbling impact with the canvas. She turns and staggers toward the approaching Amara and is sent through another, this time popping to her feet with a grimace and flopping into the buckles via a backpedal, back ending against the champ’s corner.
Below, Portia provides a courteous golf clap, though she seems more bored than pleased with the result. Singh races in after, launches and spins to RAM her backside into Princess G, the challenger shaken by the collision. Amara tosses her stumbling foe past and stalks from behind, keeping it simple with a brutal clothesline that flattens the Belle of the Brawl to face and chest.
Amara stands over the prostate fan favorite in a straddle, raising her arms high and wide, smirking at the jeering FAWNatics.
“These bytches think they’re something special. Hell. You do too. And look at them.”
Giselle rises to hands and knees beneath the hovering threat of a Camel Clutch from the foremost purveyor. The Indian grappler softens the spine of the brunette with a nasty butt bump, driving Princess G flat to the canvas once more. Instead of posting both arms and wreaking havoc in record time, the scornful Singh slaps the top of Giselle’s dome, moves from a straddle to her side and pulls the challenger to her feet. She roughly tugs Giselle’s dark mane, so the combatants are nose to nose.
“Usually, they save the best for last,” Singh spits. “Guess they made an exception for you.”
Amara tosses the baby-faced Belle to the ropes in front of her. ‘Ain’t nothing but a G’ rebounds through a u-turn and nearly gets her head taken off by a more standard but more powerful clothesline, Singh leaping into this version and sending Giselle through a horrifying backflip, PG again landing on her chest. She absently rolls to her back and stares blankly at the rafters. A risen Amara stares down.
“I get the whole Greater Good finally triumphs storyline is a heart jerker, but that’s nothing more than a fairy tale. You’ve got reality to deal with.”
The Empress delivers a brutal stomp to Giselle’s midriff, Princess G jackknifing around the impact, eyes bulging and breath bursting. The champ swings a soccer kick at the raised chin of her foe, but the Theme Park Monarch drops to her back to avoid the blow and pulls the off-balance Amara to the deck, rolling the title holder into It’s a Small Package World.
Amara frantically struggles through…
ONE…
TWO…
…before kicking loose and scrambling to her feet to deliver the third of her clotheslining amigos.
Princess G isn’t so accommodating. She ducks under this version. And when the grapplers spin toward each other, PG delivers a toe kick deep to the golden-brown tummy of the World Champion. Amara doubles at the waist with a deep groan. Giselle dips an arm between the legs of the frozen Singh, scooping and turning her foe onto a shoulder then delivering the Bombshell to the deck with a SLAM.
With the Empress sprawled, slightly arched in pain from the impact against her vertebrae, the native of the Magic Kingdom skips over her foe, hits the ropes and returns in a sprint that ends with her leaping into a senton that hits dead center of Amara’s center. It’s Singh’s turn to end in a groaning ‘V’ beneath her foe. In a pre-made pin, Giselle’s back across Amara’s abdomen, the Belle of the Brawl scoops an arm behind both knees of the champion and rolls her foe into a cradle, Amara’s ass pointed to the lights above for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Singh pushes out of trouble, sending Giselle sprawling with a powerful shove. The fresh-faced fighter seems unperturbed, leaping to her feet. She heads to the ropes behind her as an unsteady Amara reaches vertical. As Singh turns to face the charging Princess. She ducks and Giselle leapfrogs over, instantly turning on the burners to the next set of ropes. These she hits head on.
As the Empress again spins in a 180 to keep up with the surging PG, Giselle back somersaults out of the cables, Amara catching her around the waist mid-tumble. The snarling Singh yanks Giselle high off the canvas for a nasty ending to the gymnastics, but the Theme Park Monarch breaks free, grabbing Amara’s noggin in a side headlock at her zenith and PLANTS the champ to the deck with a Wheelbarrow Bulldog.
Wheelbarrow Bulldog ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=uWoVOJtppBc ) 2:58
The rocked Singh flops to her back from the force and Giselle dives aboard. This time Portia is legit concerned about losing her meal ticket before she gets to punch it.
VanBuren starts to slip into the ring, but she’s on the opposite side from the action and there’s no way she’ll get there before the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Singh’s pelvic thrust clears Giselle from her lateral press and the sweat-slicked Subcontinental Siren survives. Ending in a dazed seat on her haunches, her dark eyes glazed, Amara hardly seems to know her surroundings. Further proof arrives in the form a soccer kick to the chest from the risen Giselle that folds Singh’s thighs atop her calves, again placing bronzed shoulders to canvas.
Instead of covering again, the Belle of the Brawl heads for the nearest buckles and deftly climbs to the top. She turns to face her target and launches from Splash Mountain, her body tucking tight as she reaches her highest height. PG unfolds for the last portion of her match-winning journey, heading for the splash heard round the world.
Splash Mountain ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=JzsnTKwEFSc )
But the resourceful Amara unfolds her legs from beneath and gets her boot soles up to SKEWER the gut of the descending Princess. Giselle rolls away gutted, hugging her ivory-skinned belly, groaning and gagging. Perhaps realizing how crucial the mistake is, she tries to slip under the bottom rope, but Portia’s there to block the way, the self-proclaimed co-champion living up to her managerial role, keeping the Princess within the battlefield with a shove in the opposite direction.
The match becomes a race to see who can reach their feet first, each woman showing the ravages of an increasingly intense battle for FAWN supremacy. They also show the determination necessary to attain their goal, both grapplers reaching vertical simultaneously, each set of dark eyes focused on the other.
The combatants stride to each other and throw arms, apparently for a collar-and-elbow, but PG ducks under, sweeps around and secures a waistlock from behind. She tries to Snap Suplex her foe, but Singh successfully grapevines a leg and keeps herself grounded. The Disney-adjacent royalty stubbornly tries again, but the power-packed Singh is anchored and connects with a back elbow that crashes into Giselle’s temple. Released from the lock, Amara trails after the staggered brunette.
She catches Giselle by a shoulder and turns the brunette to face her, immediately pivoting and lighting up her challenger with a blazing chop to the collarbone that sends a requisite ‘WOOOO’ through the crowd.
The backpedaling, wincing royalty is treated to a second and third, a blistering red welt emerging. Belted into a backpedal to the champ’s corner, Giselle has no answer when a dipping Singh grabs the middle ropes on either side and thrusts forward, PLUNGING a shoulder into the open, gulping midriff of the Theme Park Monarch. Giselle is folded deeper and deeper into the corner with each, Singh happy with a half-dozen, leaving the babyfaced brunette a gasping wreck, wedged in place.
The beaming champ grabs Giselle by the ankles and yanks her out, Princess G’s pert backside thumping to the canvas directly in front of the buckles, one arm of the challenger wrapping around her bruised tummy.
Unsurprisingly, Singh turns her nefarious glutes toward the Belle of the Brawl and STUFFS them into the angelic features of the Greater Good’s dark-haired cherub. Face buried under the bronzed behind of the champion, Giselle spasms wildly, her arms pressed against the thighs of the Bollywood Bombshell, fruitlessly pushing against the muscular lower limbs.
With Castle slow to start his count, Amara swabs Giselle’s face with salty, sultry figure-8’s, enjoying every second of her Harem Shake.
On the outside, Portia’s face turns sour as she watches the FAWNatics in rapt attention for the woman she’s carried to a tag championship and the highest honor in the organization.
The Empress hasn’t had her fill of humiliating the last member of the Greater Good’s gauntlet, but apparently Nick’s reached his limit, Singh giving a last exotic waggle to finish the show at the count of ‘FOUR’. Amara pulls free of the sagging, seated ragdoll, Giselle’s face coated with a greasy sheen of perspiration from being submerged under Amara’s derriere.
A satisfied Singh turns to her manager not for advice but for a wink, as if to inform the slender socialite she might be next.
Amara returns her attention to the Princess, sinking both sets of fingers into Giselle’s dark mane. She yanks the dazed Disney-adjacent royalty to her feet and leans PG deep into the corner. Fashioning her right elbow into a point, Singh RAMS it into the crown of Giselle’s dipped noggin, sending the challenger down to a penitent knee.
“No, no,” Amara purrs. “You’re a heroine, not a China Doll.”
Singh scoops her arms under those of the Theme Park Monarch and lifts the flagging Giselle out of her genuflection. The champ jogs to the opposite corner, taps the buckle, and spins into a sprint at her wobbling target. The Indian grappler closes quickly, leaping and landing her bare feet on the front of Giselle’s thighs. Singh’s fingers lace and cup across the back of PG’s head. Amara throws her mass backwards and monkey flips the slender brunette nearly halfway across the ring.
Giselle lands on her pert derriere, her flawless features pinching in pain, hands racing to massage her bruised tailbone. It’s not the last point of pain, as a charging Amara BLASTS a soccer kick into the base of Singh’s spine. Giselle’s chest heaves forward from the impact, her vertebrae curling from the collision.
From behind, the Empress muffs Princess G’s ears and hauls the yipping fairy tale fighter to her feet. Singh sidles beside her foe and slips her right arm across Giselle’s throat, hooking the neck in a backhand grip. She pulls the struggling brunette into a dragon sleeper position, the noose tightening around her foe’s carotid, the devious Amara letting gravity work for her. With the blood dammed to Giselle’s brain, the flails of panic begin from the Princess, arms swinging wildly but finding no purchase.
As the situation becomes more dire, the crowd lowly groaning in anticipation of another triumphant defense by the Empress, the Belle of the Brawl keeps the fairy tale alive, pushing off her boot heels and backflipping out of the dragon. She deftly lands on her feet and, having escaped the champ’s grip, purposefully backpedals to the ropes behind her.
Adding the spring of the cables to her step, she dashes toward a startled Singh, leaping onto the champion’s back, arms wrapping around Amara’s braincase in a standard sleeper grip while her alabaster legs scissor the golden-brown midriff of the Bollywood Bombshell.
Giselle’s arms tighten, sending a bug-eyed Singh into a worried, wobbly dance, Amara desperately trying to shake off her challenger. When that fails, she pries at the cinching limbs of the Theme Park Monarch, but Giselle is riding her filly tight, seemingly no chance of being dismounting.
Gathering her strength and balance, Amara reaches over a shoulder and gets her hands around the head of her foe. She forward flips the slender, sinewy Princess off her back and to the canvas but not in the way Singh suspected would be the case. The athleticism of the Princess is on display as she lands on her boot soles, cat-like. PG sprints to the ropes in front of her and rebounds into a courageous charge but is damn well FLATTENED by a shoulder block from the Empress.
Amara stares down at the confounded and wincing Giselle with a growl. She leaps above the splayed challenger, leg drop aimed at the brunette’s throat, only for PG to roll clear. Singh SPIKES her tailbone into the thinly-sheathed plywood and the frenzied fight for control continues, the Belle of the Brawl kipping to her feet to a roar from the crowd.
PG pushes Amara out of her seat, Singh shoved to all fours before Giselle mounts her in a standing, forward-facing straddle of the World Champion’s skull. The Fairy Tale Fighter shows a hint of spitefulness as she pulls Amara’s head into a tight standing scissors then drops to her knees THUMPING Singh’s exotic features into the deck, drawing an ‘ooooh’ from the crowd.
Kneeling Facebuster ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=3-Ox6jqRXig ) 00:27
Giselle rolls from knees to backside, turning the dazed Empress with her. She reaches forward, snagging a leg of her foe behind the knee then leaning into a bridge, sending Singh’s considerable caboose heavenward, her shoulders planted to the mat for the…
ONE…
TWO…
The Bombshell bursts free, her powerful frame spasming, removing her from the pinning predicament.
On her back in front of the Theme Park Monarch, Amara isn’t safe after breaking free. Giselle quickly snaps her sinewy, ivory stems around the head of the champion, clamping and flexing her lower limbs around the temples of the titleholder. The Princess pushes up on her palms to increase the pressure and a flush fills Singh’s features. She wrenches at the encasing legs, scraping her nails, drawing a yip from the Belle of the Brawl.
But Amara only finds a way out from the vise when she gets her bare soles planted and pushes backward, stacking the scissoring brunette on her shoulders for the…
ONE…
TWO…
The Greater Good’s Fairy Tale Fighter is forced to release her compressing stems and roll away. The baby-faced battler takes a quick glance at Castle and seeing two raised fingers, sighs in relief. Giselle latches onto a wrist and shoulder of the Empress and pulls Singh up. But Amara brings a European Uppercut with her, snapping Giselle’s head back in whiplash fashion with the looping collision.
It’s a quick exchange from would-be Irish Whipped to Irish Whipper for the Subcontinental Siren. She heaves PG across the canvas and almost instantly follows behind, looking to squash the Disney-adjacent royalty like Jiminy Cricket. But as Giselle reaches the corner, she nimbly travels up, climbing the buckles like stairs. Reaching the top, she turns to a fast-approaching Amara and leaps at the suddenly wide-eyed Indian, dropping the champ with a meteora.
Meteora ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=EZvwITKxo88 ) 00:27
Giselle rides the Empress to the canvas in style, SLAMMING the back of her foe’s skull into the thinly-covered plywood. Singh’s folded frame is quickly snatched by the Theme Park Monarch, PG’s arms looping around the calves of the upturned haunches of the Empress. She holds on as Singh weakly squirms through…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Amara kicks loose to a groan from the crowd and not little relief from Portia, Baby more worried about the loss of her contract to potentially fight Singh for the title at RW&B than for the woman she represented as a manager.
Sent sprawling forward to all fours, the Belle of the Brawl catches herself and turns to see a struggling Singh, the Empress trying to regain her bearings and less than successful in doing so. A risen Giselle plucks Amara off the canvas and gets her chance to deliver the Indian grappler to a set of buckles. Singh races and flies into the corner from the surprisingly strong heave of the Princess. The impact is harsh enough Amara’s sturdy bronzed legs give way and Singh flops to her cheeks, leaning into the buckles in a glassy-eyed stupor.
Hustling to the opposite corner, the babyfaced beauty u-turns and flashes across the squared circle, doubling her fun with a meteora modified from her first, vaulting into the corner and CRASHING into the increasingly vulnerable Singh.
Corner meteora ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=EZvwITKxo88 )
A ragdolled Empress flops forward as PG bounces away from her impact with the champ. The Fairy Tale Fighter pulls Amara to her feet, closing in on a Greater Good finale.
Giselle pulls the faltering champ to her feet, tosses a limp arm of Singh across her shoulders while wrapping her left arm around the back of Amara’s neck in a front facelock. Using the opposite arm as a hook, PG pulls the left leg of the Empress high and to the side. With practiced ease and startling strength, the Theme Park Monarch buggywhips Singh through a brutal swinging neckbreaker, SPIKING her foe’s skull into the mat with Mister Toad’s Wild Ride.
Mister Toad’s Wild Ride ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=uWoVOJtppBc ) 3:43
The body of the Empress bonelessly slops into a spreadeagle and the Princess scrambles to cover in a lateral press for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Singh pushes out from underneath, turning to her side. She stares pleadingly at Portia who shrugs, not in a position to help if she wanted.
“Get your ass up, Empress,” VanBuren encourages. “You beat those other phonies. This is just one more.”
Singh grits her perfect pearlies and starts pushing to vertical when a risen Giselle helps her the rest of the way. The smaller woman takes advantage of Amara’s state, using the chance to bully the golden-brown warrior deep into a set of ropes and flinging her across the canvas with a whip.
Giselle follows her foe to center stage and waits for the champ’s return. She lowers on Singh’s approach, dipping and flipping the charging Bombshell high into the Orlando night with a back body drop. The slender brunette gets surprising elevation and the landing for Amara across her spine is a ring rattler. Singh rises to a seat, arching in pain, perhaps coming to the conclusion it’s the Theme Park Monarch who’s Greater Good’s ultimate boss.
The babyfaced brunette hits the cables in front of the titleholder and u-turns into a dropkick to the Indian grappler’s chest, flattening Amara, the Bombshell’s back again CRASHING against the canvas. Giselle passes on another pin attempt, knowing it’ll take more. She heads to the nearest set of buckles and ascends, turning to face her destiny, determined to reach the peak of Splash Mountain on her second attempt.
But as she spins to bring her destination in sight, an indomitable Amara struggles to her feet and launches herself into the ropes next to Giselle’s stance, rocking the Princess and sending her tumbling from her perch, one alabaster leg on either side of the top rope, the rubber-coated steel RAMMING into her kitty.
Giselle’s eyes go wide, her jaw dropping from the pulses of pain from her crotch. Things go from bad to worse when Singh snatches the uppermost strand and push-pulls it up and down, continually THRUSTING it deep between her foe’s thighs. Giselle chirps in anguish, her eyes welling as the champ uses every second Castle allots her to torture the Fairy Tale Fighter, now locked in nightmare. It’s a full ten-second ride before Amara lifts her arms high at Nick’s count of ‘FOUR’.
Giselle pushes against the rope beneath and between her, lifting her crotch off the invasive cable, wincing, lower lip quivering. The Princess gingerly begins to dismount inward when a charging Singh CRASHES into the challenger, sending her flying out instead, the brunette tumbling off the apron before puddling on the floor, ending in a fetal ball, massaging her privates before a silenced crowd.
Portia remains planted around a corner from the wreckage as Amara begins a conversation with Castle, making sure to pull the man’s gaze away from the pooled Princess. Van Buren stealthily approaches, yanking the grimacing Giselle to her feet, the Belle of the Brawl’s hands buried between her thighs, massaging and protecting. PG cowers from what she’s sure is coming, but Baby pats her on the head patronizingly and lifts the brunette onto the apron, stuffing her back under the ropes.
Singh rolls her dark pools in her manager’s general direction, unhappy with the lack of punishment afforded the challenger. She ends her conversation with the official, moving to the ropes and scooping the still impaired Princess to vertical.
The Theme Park Monarch pushes Amara off a few steps and waddles away to create some space, but she’s only pissed off the champ. The Empress charges and POUNDS Giselle’s chest with a forearm smash and another and another, the bruised Fairy Tale Fighter ending bedraggled against the ropes.
Singh sends her to the opposite strands, following to the middle, Amara at her station when the babyfaced brunette returns out of the rebound. Singh pivots and scoops the smaller, slender challenger off her feet alongside her right hip, ready for a sidewalk slam. But the Theme Park Monarch’s momentum takes Giselle out of Amara’s control. PG flips and twists amidst the Bombshell’s frame, appearing to reach the pinnacle of Space Mountain.
Space Mountain ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=uWoVOJtppBc ) 3:08
But before she reaches the summit, Singh’s strength allows her to regain control and NAIL Giselle with a version of the Rock Bottom she calls the Bolly Blast.
Bolly Blast ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=euZirZIylcw ) 00:17
Ending on her haunches next to a splayed Princess, a sweat-soaked, spent Singh collapses across what’s left of the challenger in a pin, hoping for the fight to end with the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Gisele digs deep into her Greater Goodness to shift a shoulder off the canvas. Amara rises from the failure with a look of disbelief that turns to anger. She snatches a handful of dark locks and tugs the challenger to rubbery legs, keeping the Princess bent at the waist. Singh inserts the lowered head of Giselle between her thighs and clamps tight, wrapping her arms around the gulping ivory tummy of her foe.
Grunting as she masses her remaining power, Singh LAUNCHES the smaller Belle of the Brawl into a front flip up her frame, catching Giselle on her shoulders then sitting out, nearly driving Giselle THROUGH the canvas with her Power Bolly Bomb.
Power Bolly Bomb ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=DKeJvM38OEs ) 2:22
Amara leans forward atop a folded, semiconscious Giselle, resting her body on PG’s upturned ass and thighs for the…
ONE…
TWO…
…but not THREE as the Empress pushes the demolished Giselle to the side, breaking the pin of her own accord.
As the crowd rains its boos upon the scowling Bollywood Bombshell, Singh maneuvers the Theme Park Monarch to her chest with the shovel of a boot. The insensate faux royal unaware Amara is mounting her in a familiar forward-facing crouch.
As the crowd laments with their jeers, Singh posts one arm then the other over bended knees, then scoops laced fingers under Giselle’s chin and HAULS back for all she’s worth, the brunette’s body in a horrible arch instantly. Giselle shrieks back to life, her face pointed to the rafters and then some as the master of the Clutch plies her trade.
Camel Clutch ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=d-vwCVj6cfI&list=PLwPxcAsGDneEzx7-y3EIfQ0F7Un9g389R )
The Princess fights on for several agonizing seconds, but the anguish quickly becomes too much. She taps the knee of the titleholder as best she can, spitting out a muffled “I QUIPPH”.
It’s plenty for an attentive Castle who calls for the bell then returns to Amara, prying at her to break the submission as the tolling commences. Only when he starts a count to disqualify the victor does Singh relent, lifting Giselle’s head as she rises and SLAMMING it to the deck.
The brunette’s head bounces off the plywood, providing the Princess some measure of relief in unconsciousness.
Portia, having already collected the big prize, rises the steps as the announcer makes it official.
“Your winner by submission and STILL FAWN World Champion…the Golden Empress…The Bollywood Bombshell…AMARA SINGH!”
VanBuren shoves Castle away from lifting Amara’s arm and takes on the task while raising the belt with her opposite hand.
A sweat-drenched Singh isn’t having it. She demands the gold be presented to its rightful owner and Baby reluctantly gives up her bottle…for now, Amara hoisting with both hands and stepping in front of Portia to take her rightful spotlight.
Giselle’s Theme ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=oEBNIzOIbVs ) by Lindsey Stirling
Feeling a flight of fancy, the crowd’s murmurs grow in anticipation as they crane their necks to see the beautiful heroine Lady Liberty brought to the organization. The fans are not disappointed by the sight of the fresh-faced brunette appearing from stage right.
PRINCESS GISELLE
The rookie moves to center stage as many gaze in wonder at a woman torn out of a fairy tale. The dark-haired beauty wears what can only be called FAWNticized Sleeping Beauty gear.
( www.amiclubwear.com/costume-storybook-jj1-4615sultrysnow.html ) red boots instead of pumps
She strides to the ring bouncing between each side of the aisle, making certain to touch each fan reaching. Her beaming smile is muted after the destruction of her teammates in back-to-back pay-per-views, but she continues to melt the hearts of those around her.
As the crowd loudly demonstrates its approval, the ovation grows when Giselle lifts a silver wand high and blasts a glitter bomb into the air above, scattering metallic, glimmering confetti into the front rows.
The radiant Princess ascends the steps and enters, moving to the middle where she curtsies cutely to the fans. When the roar finally lowers, the ring announcer realizes his opportunity.
“Our next match is scheduled for one fall with a 60-minute time limit and is for the FAWN WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP. Standing five feet and weighing 115 pounds, hailing from the Magic Kingdom, the stunning Belle of the Brawl…PRINCESS GISELLE!”
The stunning brunette waves to every corner of the arena, a new ovation bubbling around her. Giselle moves to the corner farthest from the entrance, handing over her wand and letting Castle pat her down. Finding nothing wrong with the paragon of virtue and corporate cuteness, Nick tosses the enchanted baton to a FAWN attendant as all eyes move to the upper stage, waiting for the bombshell title holder and her so-called ‘co-champion’.
With the rampage the golden-brown goddess is on, the crowd can only imagine how arrogant the Empress and her contemptuous manager will be.
The FAWNatics aren’t held in suspense for long, as the captivating groove of Priyanka Chopra and Pitbull’s "Exotic” breaks through the buzz, heralding the imminent arrival of the gilded Subcontinental Siren.
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sPhhZg9v9NU ).
Materializing is a set of musclebound men clad in gold loin clothes and sandals. They carry their Subcontinental Siren. Excited yet repulsed by the appearance of the Empress, the despicable Singh draws the enmity of nearly every arena occupant.
AMARA SINGH
The behemoths carry the ornate bed where upon the Bombshell lies. As the ‘exotic’ grappler is carried toward the ring on the curious conveyance, the FAWNatics batter her with boos. The anger only grows when the long-scorned Manhattanite appears, VanBuren shouting directions at Singh’s transporters.
PORTIA VANBUREN
Flawless in her immaculate, white tennis togs; a form-fitting, Louis Vuitton tank, short skirt with white socks and thousand-dollar tennies, tonight’s main event participant skips past and leads the men and their beloved Empress to the war zone.
The greedy hands of Fortune’s Favorite hold the World Title belt, Baby patting and lifting the hardware high as if she’s the title’s owner. No longer does the blonde point to her charge when featuring the symbol of dominance, FAWN’s only manager to ever lead a woman to a Tag and World Title belt now considering herself as much a champion as the woman who’s been fighting in the ring.
Behind and above, the copper-skinned beauty is clearly annoyed at VanBuren’s antics. She calls for the belt to be given to her. Baby either doesn’t hear the call over the crowd’s boisterous hate or acts s much. The men follow Portia’s direction as she leads them to the squared circle and the Princess within.
The announcer greets the spectacular arrival of the Subcontinent’s most acclaimed warrior.
"And her opponent! Standing 5 feet 6 inches tall and weighing in at 133 pounds from Cawnpore, India…the Empress…the Bollywood Bombshell…AND THE FAWN WORLD CHAMPION…AMARA SINGH!"
Having reached their destination, the men lower the palanquin until it is even with the apron. Singh gracefully slides from bedside to ringside. Portia takes the nearby steps and helps Amara slip from beneath a sparkling golden robe, revealing the curvy form beneath.
The momentary striptease draws a round of rabid applause within the jeers, Singh dropping a pearly sneer upon the peasants before snatching her belt from Baby. She moves through the ropes, taking center stage.
Amara is clad in her iconic and lavishly designed, gold bra with matching gold and red, lacy harem pants, her feet bare. Singh’s raven tresses fall just past her shoulders in wild waves, dark copper skin glowing under the lights. The Bombshell raises a microphone to her full rosy lips, but VanBuren, having entered behind, requests Amara provide her the amplifier.
After considerable thought, Singh hands the stick to her representative.
“Bow down to Your Empress,” Portia demands, the crowd not having it.
“Tonight, we eliminate the last vestige of a group that was neither great nor good. There is no room for pretenders as champions and this will be shown soon enough.”
The brief cryptic message is sufficient for the slender socialite. Sneering at their jeers, VanBuren drops the mic and leads Singh to her corner. Amara reluctantly hands over the organization’s top prize and watches Baby hop to the floor below, only then turning her full attention to Giselle, the final domino standing in her effort to accentuate her control of FAWN.
The most recent addition to the Greater Good doesn’t seem cowed by the losses of her compatriots to Amara. Singh put Colleen O’Neal in the hospital and rocked the Independence Day right out of Lady Liberty, but the brunette isn’t timid, charging Amara. A startled Singh, not ready for quite so much aggression, swings her head and torso between the upper and middle ropes, calling on Castle to keep the challenger back.
Nick obliges, providing Amara a shield. The Bollywood Bombshell reenters and shoots an arm over the official’s shoulder, poking the dark brown pools of the Disney-adjacent royalty.
Giselle yelps in pain. She turns and retreats from Castle. Nick turns and shoots lasers at the champion.
“What did you see?” Singh asks and when no immediate reply comes, she adds “That’s right.”
Singh stalks her foe, waiting for the blinded brunette to turn in her direction before linking arms at the elbows and pivoting to toss her across the canvas with an arm drag. Giselle rolls up from her tumbling impact with the canvas. She turns and staggers toward the approaching Amara and is sent through another, this time popping to her feet with a grimace and flopping into the buckles via a backpedal, back ending against the champ’s corner.
Below, Portia provides a courteous golf clap, though she seems more bored than pleased with the result. Singh races in after, launches and spins to RAM her backside into Princess G, the challenger shaken by the collision. Amara tosses her stumbling foe past and stalks from behind, keeping it simple with a brutal clothesline that flattens the Belle of the Brawl to face and chest.
Amara stands over the prostate fan favorite in a straddle, raising her arms high and wide, smirking at the jeering FAWNatics.
“These bytches think they’re something special. Hell. You do too. And look at them.”
Giselle rises to hands and knees beneath the hovering threat of a Camel Clutch from the foremost purveyor. The Indian grappler softens the spine of the brunette with a nasty butt bump, driving Princess G flat to the canvas once more. Instead of posting both arms and wreaking havoc in record time, the scornful Singh slaps the top of Giselle’s dome, moves from a straddle to her side and pulls the challenger to her feet. She roughly tugs Giselle’s dark mane, so the combatants are nose to nose.
“Usually, they save the best for last,” Singh spits. “Guess they made an exception for you.”
Amara tosses the baby-faced Belle to the ropes in front of her. ‘Ain’t nothing but a G’ rebounds through a u-turn and nearly gets her head taken off by a more standard but more powerful clothesline, Singh leaping into this version and sending Giselle through a horrifying backflip, PG again landing on her chest. She absently rolls to her back and stares blankly at the rafters. A risen Amara stares down.
“I get the whole Greater Good finally triumphs storyline is a heart jerker, but that’s nothing more than a fairy tale. You’ve got reality to deal with.”
The Empress delivers a brutal stomp to Giselle’s midriff, Princess G jackknifing around the impact, eyes bulging and breath bursting. The champ swings a soccer kick at the raised chin of her foe, but the Theme Park Monarch drops to her back to avoid the blow and pulls the off-balance Amara to the deck, rolling the title holder into It’s a Small Package World.
Amara frantically struggles through…
ONE…
TWO…
…before kicking loose and scrambling to her feet to deliver the third of her clotheslining amigos.
Princess G isn’t so accommodating. She ducks under this version. And when the grapplers spin toward each other, PG delivers a toe kick deep to the golden-brown tummy of the World Champion. Amara doubles at the waist with a deep groan. Giselle dips an arm between the legs of the frozen Singh, scooping and turning her foe onto a shoulder then delivering the Bombshell to the deck with a SLAM.
With the Empress sprawled, slightly arched in pain from the impact against her vertebrae, the native of the Magic Kingdom skips over her foe, hits the ropes and returns in a sprint that ends with her leaping into a senton that hits dead center of Amara’s center. It’s Singh’s turn to end in a groaning ‘V’ beneath her foe. In a pre-made pin, Giselle’s back across Amara’s abdomen, the Belle of the Brawl scoops an arm behind both knees of the champion and rolls her foe into a cradle, Amara’s ass pointed to the lights above for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Singh pushes out of trouble, sending Giselle sprawling with a powerful shove. The fresh-faced fighter seems unperturbed, leaping to her feet. She heads to the ropes behind her as an unsteady Amara reaches vertical. As Singh turns to face the charging Princess. She ducks and Giselle leapfrogs over, instantly turning on the burners to the next set of ropes. These she hits head on.
As the Empress again spins in a 180 to keep up with the surging PG, Giselle back somersaults out of the cables, Amara catching her around the waist mid-tumble. The snarling Singh yanks Giselle high off the canvas for a nasty ending to the gymnastics, but the Theme Park Monarch breaks free, grabbing Amara’s noggin in a side headlock at her zenith and PLANTS the champ to the deck with a Wheelbarrow Bulldog.
Wheelbarrow Bulldog ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=uWoVOJtppBc ) 2:58
The rocked Singh flops to her back from the force and Giselle dives aboard. This time Portia is legit concerned about losing her meal ticket before she gets to punch it.
VanBuren starts to slip into the ring, but she’s on the opposite side from the action and there’s no way she’ll get there before the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Singh’s pelvic thrust clears Giselle from her lateral press and the sweat-slicked Subcontinental Siren survives. Ending in a dazed seat on her haunches, her dark eyes glazed, Amara hardly seems to know her surroundings. Further proof arrives in the form a soccer kick to the chest from the risen Giselle that folds Singh’s thighs atop her calves, again placing bronzed shoulders to canvas.
Instead of covering again, the Belle of the Brawl heads for the nearest buckles and deftly climbs to the top. She turns to face her target and launches from Splash Mountain, her body tucking tight as she reaches her highest height. PG unfolds for the last portion of her match-winning journey, heading for the splash heard round the world.
Splash Mountain ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=JzsnTKwEFSc )
But the resourceful Amara unfolds her legs from beneath and gets her boot soles up to SKEWER the gut of the descending Princess. Giselle rolls away gutted, hugging her ivory-skinned belly, groaning and gagging. Perhaps realizing how crucial the mistake is, she tries to slip under the bottom rope, but Portia’s there to block the way, the self-proclaimed co-champion living up to her managerial role, keeping the Princess within the battlefield with a shove in the opposite direction.
The match becomes a race to see who can reach their feet first, each woman showing the ravages of an increasingly intense battle for FAWN supremacy. They also show the determination necessary to attain their goal, both grapplers reaching vertical simultaneously, each set of dark eyes focused on the other.
The combatants stride to each other and throw arms, apparently for a collar-and-elbow, but PG ducks under, sweeps around and secures a waistlock from behind. She tries to Snap Suplex her foe, but Singh successfully grapevines a leg and keeps herself grounded. The Disney-adjacent royalty stubbornly tries again, but the power-packed Singh is anchored and connects with a back elbow that crashes into Giselle’s temple. Released from the lock, Amara trails after the staggered brunette.
She catches Giselle by a shoulder and turns the brunette to face her, immediately pivoting and lighting up her challenger with a blazing chop to the collarbone that sends a requisite ‘WOOOO’ through the crowd.
The backpedaling, wincing royalty is treated to a second and third, a blistering red welt emerging. Belted into a backpedal to the champ’s corner, Giselle has no answer when a dipping Singh grabs the middle ropes on either side and thrusts forward, PLUNGING a shoulder into the open, gulping midriff of the Theme Park Monarch. Giselle is folded deeper and deeper into the corner with each, Singh happy with a half-dozen, leaving the babyfaced brunette a gasping wreck, wedged in place.
The beaming champ grabs Giselle by the ankles and yanks her out, Princess G’s pert backside thumping to the canvas directly in front of the buckles, one arm of the challenger wrapping around her bruised tummy.
Unsurprisingly, Singh turns her nefarious glutes toward the Belle of the Brawl and STUFFS them into the angelic features of the Greater Good’s dark-haired cherub. Face buried under the bronzed behind of the champion, Giselle spasms wildly, her arms pressed against the thighs of the Bollywood Bombshell, fruitlessly pushing against the muscular lower limbs.
With Castle slow to start his count, Amara swabs Giselle’s face with salty, sultry figure-8’s, enjoying every second of her Harem Shake.
On the outside, Portia’s face turns sour as she watches the FAWNatics in rapt attention for the woman she’s carried to a tag championship and the highest honor in the organization.
The Empress hasn’t had her fill of humiliating the last member of the Greater Good’s gauntlet, but apparently Nick’s reached his limit, Singh giving a last exotic waggle to finish the show at the count of ‘FOUR’. Amara pulls free of the sagging, seated ragdoll, Giselle’s face coated with a greasy sheen of perspiration from being submerged under Amara’s derriere.
A satisfied Singh turns to her manager not for advice but for a wink, as if to inform the slender socialite she might be next.
Amara returns her attention to the Princess, sinking both sets of fingers into Giselle’s dark mane. She yanks the dazed Disney-adjacent royalty to her feet and leans PG deep into the corner. Fashioning her right elbow into a point, Singh RAMS it into the crown of Giselle’s dipped noggin, sending the challenger down to a penitent knee.
“No, no,” Amara purrs. “You’re a heroine, not a China Doll.”
Singh scoops her arms under those of the Theme Park Monarch and lifts the flagging Giselle out of her genuflection. The champ jogs to the opposite corner, taps the buckle, and spins into a sprint at her wobbling target. The Indian grappler closes quickly, leaping and landing her bare feet on the front of Giselle’s thighs. Singh’s fingers lace and cup across the back of PG’s head. Amara throws her mass backwards and monkey flips the slender brunette nearly halfway across the ring.
Giselle lands on her pert derriere, her flawless features pinching in pain, hands racing to massage her bruised tailbone. It’s not the last point of pain, as a charging Amara BLASTS a soccer kick into the base of Singh’s spine. Giselle’s chest heaves forward from the impact, her vertebrae curling from the collision.
From behind, the Empress muffs Princess G’s ears and hauls the yipping fairy tale fighter to her feet. Singh sidles beside her foe and slips her right arm across Giselle’s throat, hooking the neck in a backhand grip. She pulls the struggling brunette into a dragon sleeper position, the noose tightening around her foe’s carotid, the devious Amara letting gravity work for her. With the blood dammed to Giselle’s brain, the flails of panic begin from the Princess, arms swinging wildly but finding no purchase.
As the situation becomes more dire, the crowd lowly groaning in anticipation of another triumphant defense by the Empress, the Belle of the Brawl keeps the fairy tale alive, pushing off her boot heels and backflipping out of the dragon. She deftly lands on her feet and, having escaped the champ’s grip, purposefully backpedals to the ropes behind her.
Adding the spring of the cables to her step, she dashes toward a startled Singh, leaping onto the champion’s back, arms wrapping around Amara’s braincase in a standard sleeper grip while her alabaster legs scissor the golden-brown midriff of the Bollywood Bombshell.
Giselle’s arms tighten, sending a bug-eyed Singh into a worried, wobbly dance, Amara desperately trying to shake off her challenger. When that fails, she pries at the cinching limbs of the Theme Park Monarch, but Giselle is riding her filly tight, seemingly no chance of being dismounting.
Gathering her strength and balance, Amara reaches over a shoulder and gets her hands around the head of her foe. She forward flips the slender, sinewy Princess off her back and to the canvas but not in the way Singh suspected would be the case. The athleticism of the Princess is on display as she lands on her boot soles, cat-like. PG sprints to the ropes in front of her and rebounds into a courageous charge but is damn well FLATTENED by a shoulder block from the Empress.
Amara stares down at the confounded and wincing Giselle with a growl. She leaps above the splayed challenger, leg drop aimed at the brunette’s throat, only for PG to roll clear. Singh SPIKES her tailbone into the thinly-sheathed plywood and the frenzied fight for control continues, the Belle of the Brawl kipping to her feet to a roar from the crowd.
PG pushes Amara out of her seat, Singh shoved to all fours before Giselle mounts her in a standing, forward-facing straddle of the World Champion’s skull. The Fairy Tale Fighter shows a hint of spitefulness as she pulls Amara’s head into a tight standing scissors then drops to her knees THUMPING Singh’s exotic features into the deck, drawing an ‘ooooh’ from the crowd.
Kneeling Facebuster ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=3-Ox6jqRXig ) 00:27
Giselle rolls from knees to backside, turning the dazed Empress with her. She reaches forward, snagging a leg of her foe behind the knee then leaning into a bridge, sending Singh’s considerable caboose heavenward, her shoulders planted to the mat for the…
ONE…
TWO…
The Bombshell bursts free, her powerful frame spasming, removing her from the pinning predicament.
On her back in front of the Theme Park Monarch, Amara isn’t safe after breaking free. Giselle quickly snaps her sinewy, ivory stems around the head of the champion, clamping and flexing her lower limbs around the temples of the titleholder. The Princess pushes up on her palms to increase the pressure and a flush fills Singh’s features. She wrenches at the encasing legs, scraping her nails, drawing a yip from the Belle of the Brawl.
But Amara only finds a way out from the vise when she gets her bare soles planted and pushes backward, stacking the scissoring brunette on her shoulders for the…
ONE…
TWO…
The Greater Good’s Fairy Tale Fighter is forced to release her compressing stems and roll away. The baby-faced battler takes a quick glance at Castle and seeing two raised fingers, sighs in relief. Giselle latches onto a wrist and shoulder of the Empress and pulls Singh up. But Amara brings a European Uppercut with her, snapping Giselle’s head back in whiplash fashion with the looping collision.
It’s a quick exchange from would-be Irish Whipped to Irish Whipper for the Subcontinental Siren. She heaves PG across the canvas and almost instantly follows behind, looking to squash the Disney-adjacent royalty like Jiminy Cricket. But as Giselle reaches the corner, she nimbly travels up, climbing the buckles like stairs. Reaching the top, she turns to a fast-approaching Amara and leaps at the suddenly wide-eyed Indian, dropping the champ with a meteora.
Meteora ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=EZvwITKxo88 ) 00:27
Giselle rides the Empress to the canvas in style, SLAMMING the back of her foe’s skull into the thinly-covered plywood. Singh’s folded frame is quickly snatched by the Theme Park Monarch, PG’s arms looping around the calves of the upturned haunches of the Empress. She holds on as Singh weakly squirms through…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Amara kicks loose to a groan from the crowd and not little relief from Portia, Baby more worried about the loss of her contract to potentially fight Singh for the title at RW&B than for the woman she represented as a manager.
Sent sprawling forward to all fours, the Belle of the Brawl catches herself and turns to see a struggling Singh, the Empress trying to regain her bearings and less than successful in doing so. A risen Giselle plucks Amara off the canvas and gets her chance to deliver the Indian grappler to a set of buckles. Singh races and flies into the corner from the surprisingly strong heave of the Princess. The impact is harsh enough Amara’s sturdy bronzed legs give way and Singh flops to her cheeks, leaning into the buckles in a glassy-eyed stupor.
Hustling to the opposite corner, the babyfaced beauty u-turns and flashes across the squared circle, doubling her fun with a meteora modified from her first, vaulting into the corner and CRASHING into the increasingly vulnerable Singh.
Corner meteora ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=EZvwITKxo88 )
A ragdolled Empress flops forward as PG bounces away from her impact with the champ. The Fairy Tale Fighter pulls Amara to her feet, closing in on a Greater Good finale.
Giselle pulls the faltering champ to her feet, tosses a limp arm of Singh across her shoulders while wrapping her left arm around the back of Amara’s neck in a front facelock. Using the opposite arm as a hook, PG pulls the left leg of the Empress high and to the side. With practiced ease and startling strength, the Theme Park Monarch buggywhips Singh through a brutal swinging neckbreaker, SPIKING her foe’s skull into the mat with Mister Toad’s Wild Ride.
Mister Toad’s Wild Ride ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=uWoVOJtppBc ) 3:43
The body of the Empress bonelessly slops into a spreadeagle and the Princess scrambles to cover in a lateral press for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Singh pushes out from underneath, turning to her side. She stares pleadingly at Portia who shrugs, not in a position to help if she wanted.
“Get your ass up, Empress,” VanBuren encourages. “You beat those other phonies. This is just one more.”
Singh grits her perfect pearlies and starts pushing to vertical when a risen Giselle helps her the rest of the way. The smaller woman takes advantage of Amara’s state, using the chance to bully the golden-brown warrior deep into a set of ropes and flinging her across the canvas with a whip.
Giselle follows her foe to center stage and waits for the champ’s return. She lowers on Singh’s approach, dipping and flipping the charging Bombshell high into the Orlando night with a back body drop. The slender brunette gets surprising elevation and the landing for Amara across her spine is a ring rattler. Singh rises to a seat, arching in pain, perhaps coming to the conclusion it’s the Theme Park Monarch who’s Greater Good’s ultimate boss.
The babyfaced brunette hits the cables in front of the titleholder and u-turns into a dropkick to the Indian grappler’s chest, flattening Amara, the Bombshell’s back again CRASHING against the canvas. Giselle passes on another pin attempt, knowing it’ll take more. She heads to the nearest set of buckles and ascends, turning to face her destiny, determined to reach the peak of Splash Mountain on her second attempt.
But as she spins to bring her destination in sight, an indomitable Amara struggles to her feet and launches herself into the ropes next to Giselle’s stance, rocking the Princess and sending her tumbling from her perch, one alabaster leg on either side of the top rope, the rubber-coated steel RAMMING into her kitty.
Giselle’s eyes go wide, her jaw dropping from the pulses of pain from her crotch. Things go from bad to worse when Singh snatches the uppermost strand and push-pulls it up and down, continually THRUSTING it deep between her foe’s thighs. Giselle chirps in anguish, her eyes welling as the champ uses every second Castle allots her to torture the Fairy Tale Fighter, now locked in nightmare. It’s a full ten-second ride before Amara lifts her arms high at Nick’s count of ‘FOUR’.
Giselle pushes against the rope beneath and between her, lifting her crotch off the invasive cable, wincing, lower lip quivering. The Princess gingerly begins to dismount inward when a charging Singh CRASHES into the challenger, sending her flying out instead, the brunette tumbling off the apron before puddling on the floor, ending in a fetal ball, massaging her privates before a silenced crowd.
Portia remains planted around a corner from the wreckage as Amara begins a conversation with Castle, making sure to pull the man’s gaze away from the pooled Princess. Van Buren stealthily approaches, yanking the grimacing Giselle to her feet, the Belle of the Brawl’s hands buried between her thighs, massaging and protecting. PG cowers from what she’s sure is coming, but Baby pats her on the head patronizingly and lifts the brunette onto the apron, stuffing her back under the ropes.
Singh rolls her dark pools in her manager’s general direction, unhappy with the lack of punishment afforded the challenger. She ends her conversation with the official, moving to the ropes and scooping the still impaired Princess to vertical.
The Theme Park Monarch pushes Amara off a few steps and waddles away to create some space, but she’s only pissed off the champ. The Empress charges and POUNDS Giselle’s chest with a forearm smash and another and another, the bruised Fairy Tale Fighter ending bedraggled against the ropes.
Singh sends her to the opposite strands, following to the middle, Amara at her station when the babyfaced brunette returns out of the rebound. Singh pivots and scoops the smaller, slender challenger off her feet alongside her right hip, ready for a sidewalk slam. But the Theme Park Monarch’s momentum takes Giselle out of Amara’s control. PG flips and twists amidst the Bombshell’s frame, appearing to reach the pinnacle of Space Mountain.
Space Mountain ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=uWoVOJtppBc ) 3:08
But before she reaches the summit, Singh’s strength allows her to regain control and NAIL Giselle with a version of the Rock Bottom she calls the Bolly Blast.
Bolly Blast ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=euZirZIylcw ) 00:17
Ending on her haunches next to a splayed Princess, a sweat-soaked, spent Singh collapses across what’s left of the challenger in a pin, hoping for the fight to end with the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Gisele digs deep into her Greater Goodness to shift a shoulder off the canvas. Amara rises from the failure with a look of disbelief that turns to anger. She snatches a handful of dark locks and tugs the challenger to rubbery legs, keeping the Princess bent at the waist. Singh inserts the lowered head of Giselle between her thighs and clamps tight, wrapping her arms around the gulping ivory tummy of her foe.
Grunting as she masses her remaining power, Singh LAUNCHES the smaller Belle of the Brawl into a front flip up her frame, catching Giselle on her shoulders then sitting out, nearly driving Giselle THROUGH the canvas with her Power Bolly Bomb.
Power Bolly Bomb ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=DKeJvM38OEs ) 2:22
Amara leans forward atop a folded, semiconscious Giselle, resting her body on PG’s upturned ass and thighs for the…
ONE…
TWO…
…but not THREE as the Empress pushes the demolished Giselle to the side, breaking the pin of her own accord.
As the crowd rains its boos upon the scowling Bollywood Bombshell, Singh maneuvers the Theme Park Monarch to her chest with the shovel of a boot. The insensate faux royal unaware Amara is mounting her in a familiar forward-facing crouch.
As the crowd laments with their jeers, Singh posts one arm then the other over bended knees, then scoops laced fingers under Giselle’s chin and HAULS back for all she’s worth, the brunette’s body in a horrible arch instantly. Giselle shrieks back to life, her face pointed to the rafters and then some as the master of the Clutch plies her trade.
Camel Clutch ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=d-vwCVj6cfI&list=PLwPxcAsGDneEzx7-y3EIfQ0F7Un9g389R )
The Princess fights on for several agonizing seconds, but the anguish quickly becomes too much. She taps the knee of the titleholder as best she can, spitting out a muffled “I QUIPPH”.
It’s plenty for an attentive Castle who calls for the bell then returns to Amara, prying at her to break the submission as the tolling commences. Only when he starts a count to disqualify the victor does Singh relent, lifting Giselle’s head as she rises and SLAMMING it to the deck.
The brunette’s head bounces off the plywood, providing the Princess some measure of relief in unconsciousness.
Portia, having already collected the big prize, rises the steps as the announcer makes it official.
“Your winner by submission and STILL FAWN World Champion…the Golden Empress…The Bollywood Bombshell…AMARA SINGH!”
VanBuren shoves Castle away from lifting Amara’s arm and takes on the task while raising the belt with her opposite hand.
A sweat-drenched Singh isn’t having it. She demands the gold be presented to its rightful owner and Baby reluctantly gives up her bottle…for now, Amara hoisting with both hands and stepping in front of Portia to take her rightful spotlight.