Post by hawkeye on May 9, 2022 22:40:13 GMT
With the crowd stirring in anticipation, they erupt in surprise after a loud, synthesized shout of ALL OF THE LIGHTS!
Every light lowers save five spots which resolve in a single beam at the top of the ramp. Into that pool of illumination steps a long since departed figure, hands spread out to the sides.
My God. It is. It’s Zoe Scott. Not seen since losing her lightweight title to Estrina Starfire nearly three years ago.
All of the Lights youtu.be/HAfFfqiYLp0?t=65
ZOE SCOTT
‘Popping’ her flashbulb sigil, the former lightweight champion swaggers toward the ring as every light in the building strobes back on.
Delighting in the stunned faces, the Diva wears her customary grey Calvin Klein-style sports bra and briefs, monogrammed with her own name instead of the famous designer.
Her pads are gold, but no longer accompanied by the ten pounds of leather and gold strapped around her waist just before her departure and absconded with by the traveling circus that is Maria Alves.
The Oil Baroness’ prominent Chanel shades are in place, while her sneakers bear telltale design touches and branding from Off White.
Halting before the ring steps, Scott removes her eyewear and holds them out behind her. With no ready-made assistant, Zoe selects a nearby ring technician and clicks her fingers at him.
“Take these,” she snaps. “And be sure I receive them in the same condition or tonight will be your last night working with this organization.”
Dismissing the worried looking man, the brunette sidles to the announcer‘s table. She hands the man a script. He looks it over and, after a loud demand from Scott, reads it.
“Tonight’s next match will bring the lightweight division back to the forefront of FAWN where it belongs. The long dark night is over. From the Kingdom of Dubai...weighing in at one hundred and sixteen pounds and standing at five feet four inches tall… she is the Ultimate Diva, the Best Thing that Ever Happened to FAWN, the...uh...the Greatest Lightweight Wrestler in the World... ZOE SCOTT!"
Scott grabs the microphone, turns to the ring, hops to the apron, slips through the ropes and makes her way to center stage where she lifts the stick to her lips, the stunned crowd mostly silent.
“Your eyes do not deceive. You are the luckiest crowd in FAWN’s long history. You are here for the biggest return since the prodigal son in the Bible. I’m here to make my division and ultimately FAWN relevant again. So let the hard work begin. I challenge any lightweight in the back, including the champion. That is if she’s not still in hiding, fighting lesser competition throughout the world. Come home. Face the Diva. Face the best.”
The Diva barely has time for her mic drop before she’s instantly upstaged when the lights dim and the classic O Fortuna echoes through the arena.
O Fortuna (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EJC-_j3SnXk )
If coming back to FAWN from years across the pond is shocking, the return of a soul from hell itself sends the FAWNatics into hysterics.
Delivered to the underworld by Adelaide Brewster at All Hallows Evil 2020, could the Ultimate Image of Human Perfection sink into the green mire and her ultimate demise, only to escape her torment and return?
The masses remain on the edge of their seats, waiting breathlessly.
And when a single spotlight breaks the gloom, their question is answered!
The FAWNatics rise in a crescendo along with the stirring music when the industry icon appears, again in the spotlight figuratively and literally.
Sins apparently washed away, the crowd welcomes her with a resounding, ear-splitting ovation, Lisa looking upon the assembled with a serene grin.
This is no Red Lisa. Nor is it the Dream from years prior. Clad in neither her iconic, skin-tight, black leather nor the red version, Lisa is instead a vision in white. A diaphanous pale miniskirt makes her appear an angel has eluded the demons imprisoning her to find redemption in the mortal realm. And for the Dreamophiles in the audience, apparently everyone from the massive reaction, Lisa’s ivory legs are finally in view, perfection covered only to mid-thigh by the delicate skirt. Ankle boots and pads in white as well.
LISA DREAM
The Personification of Perfection strides down the ramp and aisle having sent a chill down the spine of Dreamophile and Dreamophobe alike.
For those familiar with The Dream there is an eerie smile in place, eerie in that it seems sincere, Dream nodding to the cheers if not yet comfortable enough to slap extended hands.
Reaching the ring, Lisa takes a lap around the squared circle, the spooked Zoe keeping her eyes glued to Dream’s promenade.
The reborn Lisa reaches the ring steps and ascends.
Dream halts for a long look around the bowl, beaming under the adulation, then slips through the ropes. She moves to Scott, the Oil Baroness immediately retreating deep into her corner, demanding Nick Castle keep Lisa away.
“Don’t try anything,” Nick implores.
But the only movement is the raising of Lisa’s right hand for a shake.
“My trip to the fiery crucible has liberated me, Nick. I only wish to show my friend we are all perfect in our own way.
Zoe recovers her courage enough to push past Castle and slap the hand aside, drawing a chorus of boos from the FAWNatics.
Dream shrugs and moves to home territory as her music fades.
The announcer, unprepared, tries to pull The Dream’s stats from memory.
“And her opponent, from New York, New York, standing 5 feet 6 inches tall and weighing in at 117 pounds, the Ultimate Image of Human Perfection… and refugee from the River Styx…Lisa Dream!”
The beautiful dark-haired Dream affirms the man’s new moniker and bows in his direction, then the fans, and finally Zoe as the bell brings the match of returning superstars to order.
The Dubai Diva seems hesitant, curling a path out of her corner slowly while Lisa moves to the middle and waits for Zoe to join her. The Emirati orbits around the resurrected Dream, unsure what to expect from another version of a woman who’s spent time in both a psych ward and the seventh level of hell.
Finally throwing her frame forward, Scott hooks up with Ultimate Image in a collar-and-elbow. Both beauties fight for leverage, the self-proclaimed Best Ever slowly gaining an advantage and walking Lisa to the set of buckles behind her.
Castle calls for a break and Zoe responds as directed, lifting her hands high, palms pointing forward.
“You’re not the only one who’s seen the light,” the Diva assures, before sending a flashing toe kick delving deep into the belly of The Dream.
Lisa doubles at the waist with a deep grunt. Scott immediately pulls The Dream’s lowered head into a front facelock. Throwing an arm of the living legend over her shoulders, Zoe reaches down Lisa’s back and latches onto the back rim of the miniscule white tube of white spandex that serves as the trunks under Lisa’s skirt. With Dream perfectly situated, Zoe launches Lisa, pointing Dream’s boot soles to the rafters, her overturned skirt inside out.
Scott holds the seemingly inevitable vertical suplex for a half dozen seconds before sending the Personification of Perfection plummeting to earth more directly with a vicious brainbuster.
Brainbuster ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tnr5JShbcTg ) @ :23
The mat THUMPS with Lisa’s landing and The Dream ends in a wide spreadeagle, twitching a couple times before the Diva pivots to a crossbody pin, hooking a leg to make Dream’s return as anticlimactic as any in history with the…
ONE…
TWO…
Lisa’s body spasms. Enough to throw a shoulder off the canvas. She rolls to her side as the Oil Baroness stares daggers at Castle. He offers two raised fingers as evidence of nearfall.
Zoe’s nose scrunches as if she’s downwind of a sewer. She sinks her fingers into Lisa’s slightly lighter and shorter locks. There’s still enough to yank The Dream to her feet as Scott rises.
“You’re the same phony you always were,” Zoe pronounces. “But thanks for coming back to be my bytch.”
Zoe loads a European Uppercut and nearly takes Lisa’s head off her shoulders with a nasty upward swipe that connects beneath Lisa’s lowered chin. Dream’s arms pinwheel as she backpedals into the ropes behind her. Hitting the rubber-coated steel, a dazed Dream staggers in a rebound to the waiting Diva.
Again, Zoe impales Dream with a toe kick to the tummy. Grabbing dual handfuls of her foe’s locks, Scott leaps, extending her legs in a ‘V’ and uses gravity to drop to her derriere, PLANTING Lisa’s forehead into the thinly-sheathed plywood with a sit-out facebuster.
Sit-out facebuster ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=sll-3Pm7RqM )
A face down Dream is unmoving. Zoe moves to her foe’s side and pulls the carcass of her fellow brunette to her back, laying atop in a lateral press for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Lisa kicks free from an ignominious defeat, the odd sound of FAWNatics cheering Lisa’s escape from defeat filling the arena.
“Seriously? You’re rooting for this daft has-been when you’ve got the Best Ever staring you in the face?” Zoe asks.
The jeers from the sellout crowd make it clear. They are.
“Play whatever role you like,” Zoe growls as she pulls a sagging Lisa up with her and flings her foe to the far ropes courtesy an Irish Whip.
The Dream scurries to the ropes and rebounds. She ducks under a scythe-like swipe of a clothesline from the Dubai Diva, travelling to the next set of cables and making a similar u-turn.
Zoe spins to face her charging adversary, pivots and scoops Lisa up beside her right hip then drops to the canvas, altering the alignment of Lisa’s vertebrae with a sidewalk slam.
Sidewalk Slam ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=adbA8e3gMd0 ) :31
Pin pre-made, a sneering Zoe leans into another attempt via a back press and gets the…
ONE…
TWO…
…and Scott comes up short again, Lisa thrusting a shoulder off the deck to stay alive.
The Dream reaches a seated position and Zoe slides to one knee behind her, sticking the bony cap between Lisa’s shoulderblades and snatching both wrists like handlebars. With both upper limbs in her control, the former lightweight champ pulls back on the arms while thrusting her knee forward, drawing a yelp of pain from Lisa.
“You may not have lost your soul, but you sure as hell lost your fight,” Zoe says, twisting and yanking further, Lisa’s flawless features etched in anguish.
“Escaping this is nothing compared to what I’ve done,” The Dream responds.
A snarling Scott amps up the pressure on Lisa’s wings. “You sure?”
Seemingly less so, Lisa pushes into Zoe’s knee, increasing the pain in order to slowly work her way to vertical. Scott gives up her surfboard halfway there, spinning Lisa to face her and sweeping her right arm across The Dream’s chest for a reverse STO.
Reverse STO ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zk3GbUW_ZX4 )
But before Scott can send Lisa crashing to her beak, Lisa’s near elbow CRACKS into the back of the Dubai Diva’s skull one, two, three times. Taking advantage of her positioning, The Dream snakes her near leg around that of Scott, moves her near arm in front of Zoe’s clavicle and delivers the back of the brunette’s noggin to the canvas with a BANG via an inverted Russian Legsweep.
Zoe cradles her braincase with both arms, her boot soles pattering against the canvas. The crowd, timid at celebrating a successful maneuver by the Ultimate Image, can’t help when the surreal image of Lisa kipping to her feet and starting a rhythmic clap enters their eyesight. They respond like confused but accepting Pavlovian dogs.
The Dream reaches down to control Zoe’s head with both hands, forcing the Best Ever to her feet. But with Scott up, Zoe pushes Dream back a couple steps with a shove to her shoulders then surges forward with right arm drawn into a clothesline.
Lisa ducks under. The women spin toward each other, the reborn Image decking Zoe with a shoulder block to the sternum before Scott can attack.
As much shocked as hurt, the Diva stares up at a hovering Lisa in disbelief. When The Dream heads to the ropes for a little momentum, Scott scurries to vertical, only to be NAILED with a precise dropkick to the chin. The bewildered Oil Baroness remains upright only with the help of the corner she’s been backed into.
An arm thrown over the top rope on either side, Zoe slumps in the buckles, her fast start barely a memory, particularly when the ivory skirt of a charging Dream ruffles in the wind, as the resurrected legend leaps into a full body SPLASH on the cornered heiress.
Dream buries her fellow lightweight with the limited mass she can muster. It’s enough to put Zoe on skates as Lisa pushes her past, Scott stumbling to center stage before taking a dramatic header to her chin dead center.
The crowd roars to life as Lisa sidles into the six of the slowly ascending Diva, motioning the spoiled brat to rise. Racing in from Zoe’s blind spot, The Dream captures Scott’s head with a sweeping right arm, the Ultimate Image clamping tight and lifting off. Sitting out, Lisa BULLDOGS Zoe’s skull into the canvas, then shoves Scott’s deadweight to her back.
The Dream climbs atop her foe then rolls to a back press double-leg cradle for the…
ONE…
TWO…
NO!
Zoe shows she’s not ready for the resurgent Dream to end her unrivalled ambition, tossing Lisa off and raising a shoulder in the process.
A seated, sour-faced Dream slaps the mat in frustration.
But there are no recriminations sent in Castle’s direction, taking the FAWNatics aback.
The resurrected Dream instead spins to face the surviving Diva, Lisa on her haunches. The Ultimate Image moves to the chest-down Scott’s feet, lifting and folding her foe’s lower legs. With her foe’s limbs creased beneath her body, The Dream leans forward, taking Zoe’s stems from her.
“I can see why you made it to the top,” Lisa says as she slips to the Diva’s left, corralling a wing. “But let’s give you a real test.”
Lisa slides her frame under the arm, then quickly collects a crossface grip, finishing off her Dreamy Stretch.
Dreamy Stretch ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=GwQQod_g_7A )
Lisa wrenches on the captured arm, spine and neck of the wailing Oil Baroness, Scott squealing in pain but offering no surrender despite the offer from Castle.
Turning the Dubai Diva into a pretzel, Lisa advises Zoe to surrender and fight another day, but Scott understands returning with a loss will be devastating. The dark-haired grappler fights through the agonizing pain until the Personification of Perfection realizes she’ll need to do more.
Releasing the grip, Lisa cleverly rolls Zoe into a small package for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Scott breaks loose with a half-second to spare, Lisa coming up short with the sly approach.
Unable to steal the win, Lisa scrambles to her feet as Zoe attempts the same. Dream beats her to a gutting toe kick to Scott’s tanned tummy.
A great gust of an exhale bursts from between the Diva’s pursed lips as she doubles breathlessly.
Instantly, Lisa is a runner out of the blocks, racing to the rubber-coated steel in front of her. Looking spry for a returnee from Hades, The Dream sprints to Zoe, the bent Diva continuing to suck wind.
The former lightweight champion has bigger problems when Lisa pulls out a signature from her less benevolent days, sweeping a looping arc of a right arm down across the back of Zoe’s neck and DESTROYING the Emirati with a clubbing Dreamsicle.
Scott’s beautiful features meet canvas-covered plywood at a horrific rate of speed, the arrogant Diva faceplanting into the deck. Lisa skids to a stop on her knees after levelling her foe then turns to the crowd.
There’s no claim of perfection from the resurrected Dream, Lisa’s escape from perdition apparently having moderated her megalomania. Instead, she gives a wholesome fist pump that’s returned by a roar from the crowd. A smooch of her little creamy bicep is overlooked on the arrogance scale by a throng seemingly wanting to believe in The Dream’s salvation.
The Ultimate Image rises and moves to a face down Scott, pulling Zoe up to her knees with a wrist and shoulder. She swaps her grip to a side headlock and grinds the Diva’s noggin against a hip then a rib cage then an underarm as her foe ascends.
With her boot soles beneath her, Zoe’s hands move to Lisa’s hips. She surges forward and throws The Dream off, Lisa using the momentum to race and rebound out of the ropes again. Lisa bears down with a shoulderblock, but a limber Zoe leapfrogs Dream, sending the refugee from the underworld barreling toward another set of cables.
When the Diva lands, she immediately spins and runs after The Dream, meeting her foe with a lifted knee just as Dream bounds out of the strands.
Lisa’s GUTTED, somersaulting over the impaling kneecap, landing with a rattling CRASH across the canvas.
A wincing Dream rises to a seat, one hand reaching for the base of her spine while the opposite arm swaddles her churning abdomen. Zoe increases the pain in her foe’s vertebrae with a soccer kick to the backbone, Lisa’s frame thrusting forward from the impact.
Scott surrounds the head of The Dream with a dual-handed grip, tugging the struggling leader of the Dreamophiles to stooped feet.
With Lisa still doubled, Zoe applies a front facelock, tosses a limp arm of Dream over her shoulders, snatches a knee, wrapping an arm around the pit, and violently sends Lisa whipping to the canvas, head and spine THUNKING against the mat with a nasty Spinning Neckbreaker.
Swinging Neckbreaker ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=SdwHoIDszcw ) :23
The Dream cradles her braincase, boots pattering, and Zoe is on her foe once more. Snatching Lisa’s noggin with both hands, the Best Ever pulls The Dream to stooped feet and keeps the pressure on the aching neck of her foe.
Slowly, the arrogant Emirati twists the captured Lisa and pivots her own frame, so the women are back to back. In a flash, Scott drops to her backside. Lisa’s neck is wickedly whiplashed from the Hangman’s version of the neckbreaker.
Hangman’s Neckbreaker ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=27cYbPg4pcY )
Dream flops from seated to a hip and shoulder, a gloating Zoe smirking as she watches a demolished Lisa over a shoulder.
The Oil Baroness pushes to her feet and hovers over the broken Dream, pointing and barking at the Ultimate Image, the legend struggling to make hands and knees, let alone vertical.
“There may not be another available hellmouth around these parts until All Hallows’ Evil, but I sure as hell can put this woman in hospital.”
The crowd jeers the jawing Diva when the strangest sound breaks out in the back rows. It’s soft at first then echoes. “LET’S…GO…LEE-SA! LET’S…GO…LEE-SA!”
Zoe demands the assembled morons of central Florida shut their damn mouths. But ‘Florida Man’ and about 15,000 of his best friends aren’t paying the Oil Baroness any mind.
“Ok! OK!” Zoe screams. “Get ready Orlando General!”
Scott plucks Dream off the deck, scoops an arm between her foe’s rubbery, ivory-skinned stems and ‘hups’ the Personification of Perfection onto a shoulder in perfect slamming position.
Zoe surges forward to put a little sauce on the meat, upping the ante to a running powerslam that would likely put a Lisa-sized dent in the canvas-covered plywood. But before Zoe can deliver legend to hardwood, Lisa slips out the back door, landing behind the startled Emirati.
Scott spins into a jaw-jacking forearm that sends her through a pirouette. It’s The Dream’s turn to scoop her counterpart, placing an overturned Zoe across her right shoulder and…
THWAM!
It might have been a slam of the standard variety, but it seems to have done the job from the pain etched in the Diva’s face, Zoe melting back to horizontal, the steam escaping from the Best Ever.
Lisa raises an arm overhead and twirls it like she has an invisible lasso, gearing the FAWNatics up once more like an old pro. She skips over the splayed Scott and leaps into the cables at Zoe’s right side, landing her boots on the middle while lightly grabbing the top. And OVER The Dream goes, backflipping into a perfect Dreamysault, Lisa’s alabaster midriff CRASHING across the tawny tummy of the Dubai Diva.
Dreamysault ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=71Qt01zUoyM )
Zoe jackknifes under the breathtaking landing before ending flat against the canvas, Lisa hooking a leg from her crossbody position for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
The stubborn Diva again shows her determination to spoil The Dream’s triumphant return by shoving a shoulder up and rolling to her side.
The features of the Ultimate Image scrunch in frustration, but she’s quickly on her feet circling Zoe with a rhythmic clap as Scott wraps an arm around her bruised belly and shakes a few cobwebs out of her attic, wobbling as she leans on a palm, listing in a seated position.
Dream dips, reaching for Zoe’s head, when the Diva’s hands flash to the front waistband of Lisa’s skirt and she tugs her counterpart forward. The Dream trips over Scott and falls throat-first across the middle rope.
The crowd boos as a gasping, kneeling Dream has her rosy neck pressed tight against the rubber-coated steel, a risen Zoe lifting a leg and laying it over a shoulder, the better to ‘ride’ Lisa, hopping on her filly, up and down, cutting off the air supply as Lisa’s windpipe collapses against the cable.
Nick scolds the Dubai Diva, but the Best Ever chooses to ignore the official until he starts his count, finally dismounting Lisa at ‘FOUR’.
As Zoe apologizes to Castle, facetiously begging for forgiveness, a gagging, flushed Dream desperately tries to refill her lungs with O2. She pushes to her feet and staggers to a corner, throwing an arm over the top rope on either side.
With Scott concluding her fun with the referee, the Diva turns her attention back to the broken Dream, motioning her foe forward. The provocation and the newly won support of the crowd egging Dream on, the Ultimate Image pushes out of the buckles, striding with arms extended for a collar-and-elbow.
But Zoe has something else in mind, throwing a blindingly fast Showstopper that connects FLUSH with Lisa’s chin. The wicked palm heel strike straightens Lisa like a board and she timbers to the deck, out cold.
Showstopper ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=f-JtQQsO2CI )
A beaming Zoe blows on her “steaming” right hand, knowing she hit her ‘stopper full force. Scott drops to her knees next to the starfished Dream, the legend’s consciousness knocked into next month. The Best Ever presses her palms into chest and tummy in a domineering pin, the Oil Baroness doing push-ups on Lisa while Castle counts out the…
ONE..
TWO…
THRENOOO!
The Dream twists a shoulder up, Zoe shoved off enough to lose contact, the pin broken.
Furious, Scott delivers an open-hand SMACK to the midriff of the Ultimate Image, the sting further rousing her foe, flawless face twisting in pain.
“Wanna…”
Lisa cuts herself off.
“What? What did you say has-been?” Zoe asks.
Dream growls but swallows any words that might be percolating. Instead, she rolls up to hands and knees, only to be sent rolling involuntarily from a vicious kick to the ribs, the battering of Dream silencing the enthusiasm of the FAWNatics.
“The bytch tried to steal my thunder,” Zoe shouts to anyone who’ll listen. “But there’s only going to be one headline coming out of Spring Break and that’s the return of the Best Ever, not the rebirth of a new flavor of psycho.”
The words reenergize those who can hear Scott, a new chant emerging from the crowd aimed at the Emirati.
“WANNA…DREAM! WANNA…DREAM!”
Zoe insists the putrid masses shut their pie-holes, but the words grow louder, Lisa responding with a raised first as she makes it up to one knee.
Scott grabs Lisa by the ears and rips the fugitive from the inferno to her feet. Sidling behind the rubbery Dream, Zoe ducks and slips her head between Lisa’s thighs, her arms surrounding The Dream’s slender legs.
Showing she’s no slouch strength-wise, Scott calls upon a burst of effort, lifting the former World Champion onto her shoulders in an electric chair position. The crowd’s concern reaches a fever pitch, as they understand Zoe’s evil Blessing is not far.
With her foe seemingly powerless to prevent it, Scott reaches both arms high, looking to lace her fingers behind the neck of the legend and put an end to tonight’s battle with her favorite finishing maneuver.
Blessing ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=i-Swo1_qQa4 )
But before the Diva can clasp her hands. The Dream throws her body weight in reverse, backflipping to a landing on the canvas while sending Zoe in the same direction but in a much less controlled landing, the Ultimate Image SPIKING the crown of Zoe’s cranium into the canvas with a reverse hurricarana rightfully called the Dream Destroyer.
Dream Destroyer ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=fy28SzNv_RA ) :17
For a moment, Zoe pops to her feet from the force of the blow, but the Oil Baroness is out on her feet. She staggers in semi-conscious backpedal and rebounds out of the ropes in a zombie-like state.
A risen Dream takes the reins of the Dubai Diva, sliding shoulder to shoulder and sweeping an arm in a backhand grip across the throat of her foe. Lisa pulls Zoe into an arched dragon sleeper position, holding her there until the crowd spikes to life in anticipation.
Dream smiles mischievously before sending Zoe pinwheeling to the deck with her new and improved version of her Dreamy Cutter.
Dreamy Cutter ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=yRiL72oLrus ) :24
Scott ends in a twitching spreadeagle from the ring-rattling impact, Zoe spilling to her back and inviting The Dream’s perfect conclusion to her return with the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOO!
The crowd provides its commentary to the unlikely kick-out with a ‘HOLY…SHIT” chant, followed quickly by “THIS…IS…AWESOME!”
The look on The Dream’s face screams the former much more than the latter, but the reborn Lisa moves with conviction rather than spouting platitudes about perfection.
She pulls a flaccid Scott to stooped feet and tugs Zoe’s lowered head between her thighs, clamping down in a standing head scissors.
Lisa raises a couple slightly curved palms, letting the crowd believe the Bittersweet Symphony remains in her repertoire. She beams like a cat amongst the pigeons, the crowd roaring in expectation.
But after a chuckle, this Lisa shakes her head, instead collecting both of Zoe’s arms in underhooks, locking her fingers at the base of Scott’s spine. But The Dream calls another audible, breaking the grip then reaching her hooked hands behind the pits of the brunette beauty’s knees.
Lisa pops Zoe into an elevated package and PLOWS the crown of Scott’s skull into the deck with her Fallen Angel, a package piledriver, the brutal impact wrecking the Diva when Lisa sits out and PLANTS Zoe into unconsciousness.
Fallen Angel ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=1tqUZWYT5eI ) :05
Lisa keeps the jackknifed Zoe folded between her extended legs, slightly widened into a ‘V’, leaning cheek to cheek, Lisa’s face to Zoe’s derriere.
The count is a fait d’accompli.
A worried Nick slaps the canvas for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREEE!
The Dream tosses Zoe’s husk to the side and wearily pushes to her feet.
Castle raises an arm as the announcer provides the obvious.
“Your winner…by pinfall…Lisa Dream!”
Dream nods to the crowd’s appreciation in a way that can only be called graciously. She calls for a microphone and the FAWNatics steel themselves for the inevitable swerve when the Ultimate Image raises the stick to her lips.
“It’s great to be back. And it’s going to get greater!”
Lisa hands the mic to Castle after the simple, sincere words, the crowd’s ovation growing as Dream ascends a corner and genuinely celebrates with what she formerly considered the Wannadream rabble. A reawakened Dream is back from the netherworld and apparently ready for a new life.
With a semi-conscious Zoe rolling out of the ring and plopping to the floor, her return ruined by the resurrected Dream, Lisa has the squared circle to herself.
But only for a moment. A woman with a shock of blonde locks and a variety of tattoos leaps over the guardrail and slides into the ring in the blindspot of the celebrating Dream.
Dressed in a blue, cut-off t-shirt with red lettering indicating “I AM HERE”, red bell bottoms and boots with a black belt, a snarling Rebecca Ravage hops to her feet and races at the unsuspecting Lisa.
REBECCA RAVAGE
The crowd’s warnings go unnoticed by the delighted Dream. Ravage slips between the elevated legs of her foe, turns, wrapping her arms around an alarmed Lisa’s lower limbs and pulling The Dream off her perch. She POWERBOMBS Lisa into the canvas, apparently attempting to send her back to hell.
Instead, Rebecca sends the Ultimate Image into unconsciousness from the brutal impact, Lisa laid out in a wide spreadeagle.
Ravage hovers over the splayed Dream spouting a profanity-filled tirade and making a mudhole out of the insensate Lisa with a hailstorm of stomps until a bevy of officials enter and pull the raging Ravage off.
Rebecca shakes off the men and exits through the ropes, snatching a microphone from the loitering announcer.
“This woman is a fraud and if I’m going to show you. She’ll have to bring her batshit crazy to beat me. And you know what? That still won’t be enough!”
Rebecca throws the stick to the floor and heads up the aisle, Lisa only now stirring back to life with the assistance of the attendants in the ring.
Her night ruined.
Every light lowers save five spots which resolve in a single beam at the top of the ramp. Into that pool of illumination steps a long since departed figure, hands spread out to the sides.
My God. It is. It’s Zoe Scott. Not seen since losing her lightweight title to Estrina Starfire nearly three years ago.
All of the Lights youtu.be/HAfFfqiYLp0?t=65
ZOE SCOTT
‘Popping’ her flashbulb sigil, the former lightweight champion swaggers toward the ring as every light in the building strobes back on.
Delighting in the stunned faces, the Diva wears her customary grey Calvin Klein-style sports bra and briefs, monogrammed with her own name instead of the famous designer.
Her pads are gold, but no longer accompanied by the ten pounds of leather and gold strapped around her waist just before her departure and absconded with by the traveling circus that is Maria Alves.
The Oil Baroness’ prominent Chanel shades are in place, while her sneakers bear telltale design touches and branding from Off White.
Halting before the ring steps, Scott removes her eyewear and holds them out behind her. With no ready-made assistant, Zoe selects a nearby ring technician and clicks her fingers at him.
“Take these,” she snaps. “And be sure I receive them in the same condition or tonight will be your last night working with this organization.”
Dismissing the worried looking man, the brunette sidles to the announcer‘s table. She hands the man a script. He looks it over and, after a loud demand from Scott, reads it.
“Tonight’s next match will bring the lightweight division back to the forefront of FAWN where it belongs. The long dark night is over. From the Kingdom of Dubai...weighing in at one hundred and sixteen pounds and standing at five feet four inches tall… she is the Ultimate Diva, the Best Thing that Ever Happened to FAWN, the...uh...the Greatest Lightweight Wrestler in the World... ZOE SCOTT!"
Scott grabs the microphone, turns to the ring, hops to the apron, slips through the ropes and makes her way to center stage where she lifts the stick to her lips, the stunned crowd mostly silent.
“Your eyes do not deceive. You are the luckiest crowd in FAWN’s long history. You are here for the biggest return since the prodigal son in the Bible. I’m here to make my division and ultimately FAWN relevant again. So let the hard work begin. I challenge any lightweight in the back, including the champion. That is if she’s not still in hiding, fighting lesser competition throughout the world. Come home. Face the Diva. Face the best.”
The Diva barely has time for her mic drop before she’s instantly upstaged when the lights dim and the classic O Fortuna echoes through the arena.
O Fortuna (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EJC-_j3SnXk )
If coming back to FAWN from years across the pond is shocking, the return of a soul from hell itself sends the FAWNatics into hysterics.
Delivered to the underworld by Adelaide Brewster at All Hallows Evil 2020, could the Ultimate Image of Human Perfection sink into the green mire and her ultimate demise, only to escape her torment and return?
The masses remain on the edge of their seats, waiting breathlessly.
And when a single spotlight breaks the gloom, their question is answered!
The FAWNatics rise in a crescendo along with the stirring music when the industry icon appears, again in the spotlight figuratively and literally.
Sins apparently washed away, the crowd welcomes her with a resounding, ear-splitting ovation, Lisa looking upon the assembled with a serene grin.
This is no Red Lisa. Nor is it the Dream from years prior. Clad in neither her iconic, skin-tight, black leather nor the red version, Lisa is instead a vision in white. A diaphanous pale miniskirt makes her appear an angel has eluded the demons imprisoning her to find redemption in the mortal realm. And for the Dreamophiles in the audience, apparently everyone from the massive reaction, Lisa’s ivory legs are finally in view, perfection covered only to mid-thigh by the delicate skirt. Ankle boots and pads in white as well.
LISA DREAM
The Personification of Perfection strides down the ramp and aisle having sent a chill down the spine of Dreamophile and Dreamophobe alike.
For those familiar with The Dream there is an eerie smile in place, eerie in that it seems sincere, Dream nodding to the cheers if not yet comfortable enough to slap extended hands.
Reaching the ring, Lisa takes a lap around the squared circle, the spooked Zoe keeping her eyes glued to Dream’s promenade.
The reborn Lisa reaches the ring steps and ascends.
Dream halts for a long look around the bowl, beaming under the adulation, then slips through the ropes. She moves to Scott, the Oil Baroness immediately retreating deep into her corner, demanding Nick Castle keep Lisa away.
“Don’t try anything,” Nick implores.
But the only movement is the raising of Lisa’s right hand for a shake.
“My trip to the fiery crucible has liberated me, Nick. I only wish to show my friend we are all perfect in our own way.
Zoe recovers her courage enough to push past Castle and slap the hand aside, drawing a chorus of boos from the FAWNatics.
Dream shrugs and moves to home territory as her music fades.
The announcer, unprepared, tries to pull The Dream’s stats from memory.
“And her opponent, from New York, New York, standing 5 feet 6 inches tall and weighing in at 117 pounds, the Ultimate Image of Human Perfection… and refugee from the River Styx…Lisa Dream!”
The beautiful dark-haired Dream affirms the man’s new moniker and bows in his direction, then the fans, and finally Zoe as the bell brings the match of returning superstars to order.
The Dubai Diva seems hesitant, curling a path out of her corner slowly while Lisa moves to the middle and waits for Zoe to join her. The Emirati orbits around the resurrected Dream, unsure what to expect from another version of a woman who’s spent time in both a psych ward and the seventh level of hell.
Finally throwing her frame forward, Scott hooks up with Ultimate Image in a collar-and-elbow. Both beauties fight for leverage, the self-proclaimed Best Ever slowly gaining an advantage and walking Lisa to the set of buckles behind her.
Castle calls for a break and Zoe responds as directed, lifting her hands high, palms pointing forward.
“You’re not the only one who’s seen the light,” the Diva assures, before sending a flashing toe kick delving deep into the belly of The Dream.
Lisa doubles at the waist with a deep grunt. Scott immediately pulls The Dream’s lowered head into a front facelock. Throwing an arm of the living legend over her shoulders, Zoe reaches down Lisa’s back and latches onto the back rim of the miniscule white tube of white spandex that serves as the trunks under Lisa’s skirt. With Dream perfectly situated, Zoe launches Lisa, pointing Dream’s boot soles to the rafters, her overturned skirt inside out.
Scott holds the seemingly inevitable vertical suplex for a half dozen seconds before sending the Personification of Perfection plummeting to earth more directly with a vicious brainbuster.
Brainbuster ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tnr5JShbcTg ) @ :23
The mat THUMPS with Lisa’s landing and The Dream ends in a wide spreadeagle, twitching a couple times before the Diva pivots to a crossbody pin, hooking a leg to make Dream’s return as anticlimactic as any in history with the…
ONE…
TWO…
Lisa’s body spasms. Enough to throw a shoulder off the canvas. She rolls to her side as the Oil Baroness stares daggers at Castle. He offers two raised fingers as evidence of nearfall.
Zoe’s nose scrunches as if she’s downwind of a sewer. She sinks her fingers into Lisa’s slightly lighter and shorter locks. There’s still enough to yank The Dream to her feet as Scott rises.
“You’re the same phony you always were,” Zoe pronounces. “But thanks for coming back to be my bytch.”
Zoe loads a European Uppercut and nearly takes Lisa’s head off her shoulders with a nasty upward swipe that connects beneath Lisa’s lowered chin. Dream’s arms pinwheel as she backpedals into the ropes behind her. Hitting the rubber-coated steel, a dazed Dream staggers in a rebound to the waiting Diva.
Again, Zoe impales Dream with a toe kick to the tummy. Grabbing dual handfuls of her foe’s locks, Scott leaps, extending her legs in a ‘V’ and uses gravity to drop to her derriere, PLANTING Lisa’s forehead into the thinly-sheathed plywood with a sit-out facebuster.
Sit-out facebuster ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=sll-3Pm7RqM )
A face down Dream is unmoving. Zoe moves to her foe’s side and pulls the carcass of her fellow brunette to her back, laying atop in a lateral press for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Lisa kicks free from an ignominious defeat, the odd sound of FAWNatics cheering Lisa’s escape from defeat filling the arena.
“Seriously? You’re rooting for this daft has-been when you’ve got the Best Ever staring you in the face?” Zoe asks.
The jeers from the sellout crowd make it clear. They are.
“Play whatever role you like,” Zoe growls as she pulls a sagging Lisa up with her and flings her foe to the far ropes courtesy an Irish Whip.
The Dream scurries to the ropes and rebounds. She ducks under a scythe-like swipe of a clothesline from the Dubai Diva, travelling to the next set of cables and making a similar u-turn.
Zoe spins to face her charging adversary, pivots and scoops Lisa up beside her right hip then drops to the canvas, altering the alignment of Lisa’s vertebrae with a sidewalk slam.
Sidewalk Slam ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=adbA8e3gMd0 ) :31
Pin pre-made, a sneering Zoe leans into another attempt via a back press and gets the…
ONE…
TWO…
…and Scott comes up short again, Lisa thrusting a shoulder off the deck to stay alive.
The Dream reaches a seated position and Zoe slides to one knee behind her, sticking the bony cap between Lisa’s shoulderblades and snatching both wrists like handlebars. With both upper limbs in her control, the former lightweight champ pulls back on the arms while thrusting her knee forward, drawing a yelp of pain from Lisa.
“You may not have lost your soul, but you sure as hell lost your fight,” Zoe says, twisting and yanking further, Lisa’s flawless features etched in anguish.
“Escaping this is nothing compared to what I’ve done,” The Dream responds.
A snarling Scott amps up the pressure on Lisa’s wings. “You sure?”
Seemingly less so, Lisa pushes into Zoe’s knee, increasing the pain in order to slowly work her way to vertical. Scott gives up her surfboard halfway there, spinning Lisa to face her and sweeping her right arm across The Dream’s chest for a reverse STO.
Reverse STO ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zk3GbUW_ZX4 )
But before Scott can send Lisa crashing to her beak, Lisa’s near elbow CRACKS into the back of the Dubai Diva’s skull one, two, three times. Taking advantage of her positioning, The Dream snakes her near leg around that of Scott, moves her near arm in front of Zoe’s clavicle and delivers the back of the brunette’s noggin to the canvas with a BANG via an inverted Russian Legsweep.
Zoe cradles her braincase with both arms, her boot soles pattering against the canvas. The crowd, timid at celebrating a successful maneuver by the Ultimate Image, can’t help when the surreal image of Lisa kipping to her feet and starting a rhythmic clap enters their eyesight. They respond like confused but accepting Pavlovian dogs.
The Dream reaches down to control Zoe’s head with both hands, forcing the Best Ever to her feet. But with Scott up, Zoe pushes Dream back a couple steps with a shove to her shoulders then surges forward with right arm drawn into a clothesline.
Lisa ducks under. The women spin toward each other, the reborn Image decking Zoe with a shoulder block to the sternum before Scott can attack.
As much shocked as hurt, the Diva stares up at a hovering Lisa in disbelief. When The Dream heads to the ropes for a little momentum, Scott scurries to vertical, only to be NAILED with a precise dropkick to the chin. The bewildered Oil Baroness remains upright only with the help of the corner she’s been backed into.
An arm thrown over the top rope on either side, Zoe slumps in the buckles, her fast start barely a memory, particularly when the ivory skirt of a charging Dream ruffles in the wind, as the resurrected legend leaps into a full body SPLASH on the cornered heiress.
Dream buries her fellow lightweight with the limited mass she can muster. It’s enough to put Zoe on skates as Lisa pushes her past, Scott stumbling to center stage before taking a dramatic header to her chin dead center.
The crowd roars to life as Lisa sidles into the six of the slowly ascending Diva, motioning the spoiled brat to rise. Racing in from Zoe’s blind spot, The Dream captures Scott’s head with a sweeping right arm, the Ultimate Image clamping tight and lifting off. Sitting out, Lisa BULLDOGS Zoe’s skull into the canvas, then shoves Scott’s deadweight to her back.
The Dream climbs atop her foe then rolls to a back press double-leg cradle for the…
ONE…
TWO…
NO!
Zoe shows she’s not ready for the resurgent Dream to end her unrivalled ambition, tossing Lisa off and raising a shoulder in the process.
A seated, sour-faced Dream slaps the mat in frustration.
But there are no recriminations sent in Castle’s direction, taking the FAWNatics aback.
The resurrected Dream instead spins to face the surviving Diva, Lisa on her haunches. The Ultimate Image moves to the chest-down Scott’s feet, lifting and folding her foe’s lower legs. With her foe’s limbs creased beneath her body, The Dream leans forward, taking Zoe’s stems from her.
“I can see why you made it to the top,” Lisa says as she slips to the Diva’s left, corralling a wing. “But let’s give you a real test.”
Lisa slides her frame under the arm, then quickly collects a crossface grip, finishing off her Dreamy Stretch.
Dreamy Stretch ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=GwQQod_g_7A )
Lisa wrenches on the captured arm, spine and neck of the wailing Oil Baroness, Scott squealing in pain but offering no surrender despite the offer from Castle.
Turning the Dubai Diva into a pretzel, Lisa advises Zoe to surrender and fight another day, but Scott understands returning with a loss will be devastating. The dark-haired grappler fights through the agonizing pain until the Personification of Perfection realizes she’ll need to do more.
Releasing the grip, Lisa cleverly rolls Zoe into a small package for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Scott breaks loose with a half-second to spare, Lisa coming up short with the sly approach.
Unable to steal the win, Lisa scrambles to her feet as Zoe attempts the same. Dream beats her to a gutting toe kick to Scott’s tanned tummy.
A great gust of an exhale bursts from between the Diva’s pursed lips as she doubles breathlessly.
Instantly, Lisa is a runner out of the blocks, racing to the rubber-coated steel in front of her. Looking spry for a returnee from Hades, The Dream sprints to Zoe, the bent Diva continuing to suck wind.
The former lightweight champion has bigger problems when Lisa pulls out a signature from her less benevolent days, sweeping a looping arc of a right arm down across the back of Zoe’s neck and DESTROYING the Emirati with a clubbing Dreamsicle.
Scott’s beautiful features meet canvas-covered plywood at a horrific rate of speed, the arrogant Diva faceplanting into the deck. Lisa skids to a stop on her knees after levelling her foe then turns to the crowd.
There’s no claim of perfection from the resurrected Dream, Lisa’s escape from perdition apparently having moderated her megalomania. Instead, she gives a wholesome fist pump that’s returned by a roar from the crowd. A smooch of her little creamy bicep is overlooked on the arrogance scale by a throng seemingly wanting to believe in The Dream’s salvation.
The Ultimate Image rises and moves to a face down Scott, pulling Zoe up to her knees with a wrist and shoulder. She swaps her grip to a side headlock and grinds the Diva’s noggin against a hip then a rib cage then an underarm as her foe ascends.
With her boot soles beneath her, Zoe’s hands move to Lisa’s hips. She surges forward and throws The Dream off, Lisa using the momentum to race and rebound out of the ropes again. Lisa bears down with a shoulderblock, but a limber Zoe leapfrogs Dream, sending the refugee from the underworld barreling toward another set of cables.
When the Diva lands, she immediately spins and runs after The Dream, meeting her foe with a lifted knee just as Dream bounds out of the strands.
Lisa’s GUTTED, somersaulting over the impaling kneecap, landing with a rattling CRASH across the canvas.
A wincing Dream rises to a seat, one hand reaching for the base of her spine while the opposite arm swaddles her churning abdomen. Zoe increases the pain in her foe’s vertebrae with a soccer kick to the backbone, Lisa’s frame thrusting forward from the impact.
Scott surrounds the head of The Dream with a dual-handed grip, tugging the struggling leader of the Dreamophiles to stooped feet.
With Lisa still doubled, Zoe applies a front facelock, tosses a limp arm of Dream over her shoulders, snatches a knee, wrapping an arm around the pit, and violently sends Lisa whipping to the canvas, head and spine THUNKING against the mat with a nasty Spinning Neckbreaker.
Swinging Neckbreaker ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=SdwHoIDszcw ) :23
The Dream cradles her braincase, boots pattering, and Zoe is on her foe once more. Snatching Lisa’s noggin with both hands, the Best Ever pulls The Dream to stooped feet and keeps the pressure on the aching neck of her foe.
Slowly, the arrogant Emirati twists the captured Lisa and pivots her own frame, so the women are back to back. In a flash, Scott drops to her backside. Lisa’s neck is wickedly whiplashed from the Hangman’s version of the neckbreaker.
Hangman’s Neckbreaker ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=27cYbPg4pcY )
Dream flops from seated to a hip and shoulder, a gloating Zoe smirking as she watches a demolished Lisa over a shoulder.
The Oil Baroness pushes to her feet and hovers over the broken Dream, pointing and barking at the Ultimate Image, the legend struggling to make hands and knees, let alone vertical.
“There may not be another available hellmouth around these parts until All Hallows’ Evil, but I sure as hell can put this woman in hospital.”
The crowd jeers the jawing Diva when the strangest sound breaks out in the back rows. It’s soft at first then echoes. “LET’S…GO…LEE-SA! LET’S…GO…LEE-SA!”
Zoe demands the assembled morons of central Florida shut their damn mouths. But ‘Florida Man’ and about 15,000 of his best friends aren’t paying the Oil Baroness any mind.
“Ok! OK!” Zoe screams. “Get ready Orlando General!”
Scott plucks Dream off the deck, scoops an arm between her foe’s rubbery, ivory-skinned stems and ‘hups’ the Personification of Perfection onto a shoulder in perfect slamming position.
Zoe surges forward to put a little sauce on the meat, upping the ante to a running powerslam that would likely put a Lisa-sized dent in the canvas-covered plywood. But before Zoe can deliver legend to hardwood, Lisa slips out the back door, landing behind the startled Emirati.
Scott spins into a jaw-jacking forearm that sends her through a pirouette. It’s The Dream’s turn to scoop her counterpart, placing an overturned Zoe across her right shoulder and…
THWAM!
It might have been a slam of the standard variety, but it seems to have done the job from the pain etched in the Diva’s face, Zoe melting back to horizontal, the steam escaping from the Best Ever.
Lisa raises an arm overhead and twirls it like she has an invisible lasso, gearing the FAWNatics up once more like an old pro. She skips over the splayed Scott and leaps into the cables at Zoe’s right side, landing her boots on the middle while lightly grabbing the top. And OVER The Dream goes, backflipping into a perfect Dreamysault, Lisa’s alabaster midriff CRASHING across the tawny tummy of the Dubai Diva.
Dreamysault ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=71Qt01zUoyM )
Zoe jackknifes under the breathtaking landing before ending flat against the canvas, Lisa hooking a leg from her crossbody position for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
The stubborn Diva again shows her determination to spoil The Dream’s triumphant return by shoving a shoulder up and rolling to her side.
The features of the Ultimate Image scrunch in frustration, but she’s quickly on her feet circling Zoe with a rhythmic clap as Scott wraps an arm around her bruised belly and shakes a few cobwebs out of her attic, wobbling as she leans on a palm, listing in a seated position.
Dream dips, reaching for Zoe’s head, when the Diva’s hands flash to the front waistband of Lisa’s skirt and she tugs her counterpart forward. The Dream trips over Scott and falls throat-first across the middle rope.
The crowd boos as a gasping, kneeling Dream has her rosy neck pressed tight against the rubber-coated steel, a risen Zoe lifting a leg and laying it over a shoulder, the better to ‘ride’ Lisa, hopping on her filly, up and down, cutting off the air supply as Lisa’s windpipe collapses against the cable.
Nick scolds the Dubai Diva, but the Best Ever chooses to ignore the official until he starts his count, finally dismounting Lisa at ‘FOUR’.
As Zoe apologizes to Castle, facetiously begging for forgiveness, a gagging, flushed Dream desperately tries to refill her lungs with O2. She pushes to her feet and staggers to a corner, throwing an arm over the top rope on either side.
With Scott concluding her fun with the referee, the Diva turns her attention back to the broken Dream, motioning her foe forward. The provocation and the newly won support of the crowd egging Dream on, the Ultimate Image pushes out of the buckles, striding with arms extended for a collar-and-elbow.
But Zoe has something else in mind, throwing a blindingly fast Showstopper that connects FLUSH with Lisa’s chin. The wicked palm heel strike straightens Lisa like a board and she timbers to the deck, out cold.
Showstopper ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=f-JtQQsO2CI )
A beaming Zoe blows on her “steaming” right hand, knowing she hit her ‘stopper full force. Scott drops to her knees next to the starfished Dream, the legend’s consciousness knocked into next month. The Best Ever presses her palms into chest and tummy in a domineering pin, the Oil Baroness doing push-ups on Lisa while Castle counts out the…
ONE..
TWO…
THRENOOO!
The Dream twists a shoulder up, Zoe shoved off enough to lose contact, the pin broken.
Furious, Scott delivers an open-hand SMACK to the midriff of the Ultimate Image, the sting further rousing her foe, flawless face twisting in pain.
“Wanna…”
Lisa cuts herself off.
“What? What did you say has-been?” Zoe asks.
Dream growls but swallows any words that might be percolating. Instead, she rolls up to hands and knees, only to be sent rolling involuntarily from a vicious kick to the ribs, the battering of Dream silencing the enthusiasm of the FAWNatics.
“The bytch tried to steal my thunder,” Zoe shouts to anyone who’ll listen. “But there’s only going to be one headline coming out of Spring Break and that’s the return of the Best Ever, not the rebirth of a new flavor of psycho.”
The words reenergize those who can hear Scott, a new chant emerging from the crowd aimed at the Emirati.
“WANNA…DREAM! WANNA…DREAM!”
Zoe insists the putrid masses shut their pie-holes, but the words grow louder, Lisa responding with a raised first as she makes it up to one knee.
Scott grabs Lisa by the ears and rips the fugitive from the inferno to her feet. Sidling behind the rubbery Dream, Zoe ducks and slips her head between Lisa’s thighs, her arms surrounding The Dream’s slender legs.
Showing she’s no slouch strength-wise, Scott calls upon a burst of effort, lifting the former World Champion onto her shoulders in an electric chair position. The crowd’s concern reaches a fever pitch, as they understand Zoe’s evil Blessing is not far.
With her foe seemingly powerless to prevent it, Scott reaches both arms high, looking to lace her fingers behind the neck of the legend and put an end to tonight’s battle with her favorite finishing maneuver.
Blessing ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=i-Swo1_qQa4 )
But before the Diva can clasp her hands. The Dream throws her body weight in reverse, backflipping to a landing on the canvas while sending Zoe in the same direction but in a much less controlled landing, the Ultimate Image SPIKING the crown of Zoe’s cranium into the canvas with a reverse hurricarana rightfully called the Dream Destroyer.
Dream Destroyer ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=fy28SzNv_RA ) :17
For a moment, Zoe pops to her feet from the force of the blow, but the Oil Baroness is out on her feet. She staggers in semi-conscious backpedal and rebounds out of the ropes in a zombie-like state.
A risen Dream takes the reins of the Dubai Diva, sliding shoulder to shoulder and sweeping an arm in a backhand grip across the throat of her foe. Lisa pulls Zoe into an arched dragon sleeper position, holding her there until the crowd spikes to life in anticipation.
Dream smiles mischievously before sending Zoe pinwheeling to the deck with her new and improved version of her Dreamy Cutter.
Dreamy Cutter ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=yRiL72oLrus ) :24
Scott ends in a twitching spreadeagle from the ring-rattling impact, Zoe spilling to her back and inviting The Dream’s perfect conclusion to her return with the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOO!
The crowd provides its commentary to the unlikely kick-out with a ‘HOLY…SHIT” chant, followed quickly by “THIS…IS…AWESOME!”
The look on The Dream’s face screams the former much more than the latter, but the reborn Lisa moves with conviction rather than spouting platitudes about perfection.
She pulls a flaccid Scott to stooped feet and tugs Zoe’s lowered head between her thighs, clamping down in a standing head scissors.
Lisa raises a couple slightly curved palms, letting the crowd believe the Bittersweet Symphony remains in her repertoire. She beams like a cat amongst the pigeons, the crowd roaring in expectation.
But after a chuckle, this Lisa shakes her head, instead collecting both of Zoe’s arms in underhooks, locking her fingers at the base of Scott’s spine. But The Dream calls another audible, breaking the grip then reaching her hooked hands behind the pits of the brunette beauty’s knees.
Lisa pops Zoe into an elevated package and PLOWS the crown of Scott’s skull into the deck with her Fallen Angel, a package piledriver, the brutal impact wrecking the Diva when Lisa sits out and PLANTS Zoe into unconsciousness.
Fallen Angel ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=1tqUZWYT5eI ) :05
Lisa keeps the jackknifed Zoe folded between her extended legs, slightly widened into a ‘V’, leaning cheek to cheek, Lisa’s face to Zoe’s derriere.
The count is a fait d’accompli.
A worried Nick slaps the canvas for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREEE!
The Dream tosses Zoe’s husk to the side and wearily pushes to her feet.
Castle raises an arm as the announcer provides the obvious.
“Your winner…by pinfall…Lisa Dream!”
Dream nods to the crowd’s appreciation in a way that can only be called graciously. She calls for a microphone and the FAWNatics steel themselves for the inevitable swerve when the Ultimate Image raises the stick to her lips.
“It’s great to be back. And it’s going to get greater!”
Lisa hands the mic to Castle after the simple, sincere words, the crowd’s ovation growing as Dream ascends a corner and genuinely celebrates with what she formerly considered the Wannadream rabble. A reawakened Dream is back from the netherworld and apparently ready for a new life.
With a semi-conscious Zoe rolling out of the ring and plopping to the floor, her return ruined by the resurrected Dream, Lisa has the squared circle to herself.
But only for a moment. A woman with a shock of blonde locks and a variety of tattoos leaps over the guardrail and slides into the ring in the blindspot of the celebrating Dream.
Dressed in a blue, cut-off t-shirt with red lettering indicating “I AM HERE”, red bell bottoms and boots with a black belt, a snarling Rebecca Ravage hops to her feet and races at the unsuspecting Lisa.
REBECCA RAVAGE
The crowd’s warnings go unnoticed by the delighted Dream. Ravage slips between the elevated legs of her foe, turns, wrapping her arms around an alarmed Lisa’s lower limbs and pulling The Dream off her perch. She POWERBOMBS Lisa into the canvas, apparently attempting to send her back to hell.
Instead, Rebecca sends the Ultimate Image into unconsciousness from the brutal impact, Lisa laid out in a wide spreadeagle.
Ravage hovers over the splayed Dream spouting a profanity-filled tirade and making a mudhole out of the insensate Lisa with a hailstorm of stomps until a bevy of officials enter and pull the raging Ravage off.
Rebecca shakes off the men and exits through the ropes, snatching a microphone from the loitering announcer.
“This woman is a fraud and if I’m going to show you. She’ll have to bring her batshit crazy to beat me. And you know what? That still won’t be enough!”
Rebecca throws the stick to the floor and heads up the aisle, Lisa only now stirring back to life with the assistance of the attendants in the ring.
Her night ruined.