Post by hawkeye on Jan 9, 2023 1:06:17 GMT
Still stewing from her War Games loss at All Hallows’ Evil, the losing team’s captain paces nervously for the match to come, her elfin features pinched in stern concentration. Tonight’s fight offers a chance at a measure of revenge against a member of Charliente, one she had yet to face in singles’ competition.
The glorious, melodious and upbeat Sixpence None The Richer’s ‘There She Goes’ sweeps through the arena, Kylie’s Corps roaring to their collective feet.
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=tMfXeuv4kZE )
The group’s favorite Girl Scout moves to the curtain and pushes through, raising the decibels by double. Despite her ‘Games’ loss and a Mania failure prior, Sanders remains sure of herself and her place in the FAWNiverse.
Moving to center stage, Kylie absorbs the adulation, smiling and waving, the sight of their redeemed Pleasant Valley Princess begetting more collective love in the direction of the silvery-bobbed beauty.
KYLIE SANDERS
Drawing on echoes of her original gear, Sanders sports a simple yellow-gold sports bra topside with black boy-cut shorts, black boots and pads. As she heads down the ramp, Ky cups a hand to an ear, enjoying the chants of ‘KY-LEE’ much more than the scattered attempts of a few remaining haters to continue with ‘TROLL…TROLL…TROLL”
( www.yandy.com/products/lets-mesh-around-bra-set )
A beaming Sanders walks the aisle, happy to slap hands with her fans, gazing with delight at a poster proclaiming the Platinum Pixie as their Platinum Princess and a large placard making clear “We still love our Corps commander”, the recent discouraging results not lessening her fans’ devotion.
Kylie reaches the ring. She takes a moment to gaze around the arena at the display of affection. Sanders salutes her supporters before slipping through the cables.
Moving to the middle, Ky applauds the sellout crowd before raising a microphone to her full, Cupid’s Arrow lips.
“Thank you so much.”
The Hawkeye waits for the din to die down.
“We came up short at War Games, especially me.”
The crowd boos, refusing to entertain the thought.
“But if you’re ready, I’m ready to go back to war with all of you.”
The ruckus returns to cheers, Ky bowing to the supportive swarm.
Sanders hands the stick to the ring announcer and retreats to her assigned corner where she allows lead referee Nick Castle to check her for foreign objects. The official concludes as the announcer makes his introduction.
“Our next match is scheduled for one fall with a 20-minute time limit. From Pleasant Valley, Iowa, standing 5 feet 4 inches and weighing in at 115 pounds, the Platinum Pixie…KYLIE SANDERS!”
The house erupts in an encore of applause save for significant pockets of patronage for the Hawkeye’s lethal Latina foe. Kylie nervously hops and stretches, hoping to add to her record number of FAWN wins instead of accumulating another of her record number of losses.
Waiting for her cue, the recently reviled Cuban Missile joins in a group hug with her Caliiente counterparts, Soshana Soto and Gabby Mendoza wishing their amiga well as both have been banned from ringside for tonight’s follow-up fight.
Muy Caliente’s’ familiar accompaniment fills the Orlando airspace. the sellout throng passing on their former amateurish attempts to samba. With the Latinas and their Blackheart compatriot’s turn to the dark side, they instead test the volume of their lungs, releasing full-throated jeers.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ui0hDQLcWTg
“Time to kick that gringa bytch’s ass,” Mendoza assures.
“Hell yeah,” Soto adds. “Make her realize she don’t want any more of our heat.”
Garcia nods and strides into enemy territory, the Corps letting loose on their favorite’s increasingly bitter rival, the boos multiplying in volume as the raven-haired grappler grabs center stage and scowls at Kylie’s backers.
SOFIA GARCIA
With supportive signs mostly replaced by placards asking why Sofia’s broken so many hearts, the hot-tempered Cuban strides down the aisle. She acknowledges the pockets still supporting their Latina sister, raising a fist to salute the chicos and chicas.
The sultry Sofia wears a two-piece, neon, violet number that catches eyes and stirs hearts. Black boots and pads complete her gear. The white-hot Cuban gestures angrily at the leader of the motivated masses when she reaches the ring.
Garcia takes a predatory trip around the squared circle, her dark eyes rarely leaving Sanders. She rounds the last corner and bypasses the steps in favor of a low swooping leap that sends her skidding along the apron’s edge. She rises and hooks her arms over the top rope, hard cam side, then tumbles her way in.
A final hip swivel ensures the energy level remains high even as Garcia settles into the corner farthest from the Pixie to have her pads and boots checked by Castle.
The ring announcer takes the opportunity for the follow-up introduction.
“And her opponent, representing Charliente, hailing from Holguin, Cuba, she stands five feet two inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and fifteen pounds. She is the Cuban Missile… SOFIA GARCIA!”
The fiery islander heaves a right fist high and receives a not insubstantial ovation in return, proof at least the original Caliente crew maintain their sway over a healthy minority.
Nick waves for the bell and the desert to last month’s War Games entrée is underway.
Never the most creative combatant, Sanders heads directly for center stage while Sofia circles out of her corner, orbiting around the soon revolving Hawkeye. As the Cuban closes, Kylie reaches out and the grapplers tie up in a collar and elbow.
Each woman struggles for leverage in a waltz around the middle of the ring until the FAWN original tugs Garcia into a side headlock, working Sofia’s noggin in the crook of her right arm. Garcia’s palms raise to Kylie’s hips. She attempts to shove the Platinum Pixie off. No dice. Ky’s grip remains tight and she pulls Caliente’s Cuban with her through a quick crow hop before regaining her balance.
Sanders loosens her grasp to shift and lock arms. She hiptosses the Latina spitfire to her backside, Sofia grimacing as she lands on the tip of her tailbone.
Quickly on the move, Sanders hits the cables in front of her adversary and rebounds, diving into a low crossbody splash of the seated Garcia. Sofia’s legs point to the rafters with her shoulderblades planted and Ky across her chest for the…
ONE…
Garcia heaves the elfin blonde off after a single slap, hardly enough time for Kylie’s Corps to be disappointed. Sanders pops to her feet and takes toward a punt to Garcia’s ribs, but the Latina sweeps out the Iowan’s plant leg and Ky’s on her back before she can connect.
Sofia scrambles atop her black-n-gold target but can’t keep herself there, both women wheeling and twisting their way to the top before finding the tables quickly turned. After a half dozen flip-flopping, zero-count pins, the twosome break, ending on hands and knees a few feet distant, the FAWNatics giving each a healthy round of applause for their display of chain wrestling.
Neither grappler acknowledges the other, the heat between Caliente and Kylie having slowly bubbled to the now rolling boil after the past several months, this CNP cherry-on-top important to each fighter.
Losing on what are considered the two biggest cards of the year to her Caliente counterparts, Kylie reaches for another tie-up but calls an audible at the last second, sweeping around and behind Garcia, surrounding her foe’s midriff with a waistlock.
The Cuban Missile swings elbows, right and left, but Ky ducks each salvo, stubbornly controlling Sofia but unable to increase her advantage before Garcia walks her way to the ropes, latching onto the top strand and demanding a break.
Sanders releases and gives Sofia an unnecessary shove to a shoulder as she backs to the middle.
A snarling Sofia turns to cast her dark eyes in the gringa’s direction.
“You know I’m more heat than you can handle,” Garcia informs. “You don’t want to turn up the temperature.”
The veteran Sanders rolls her hazel peepers and motions Sofia forward.
“You’re not Gabby. Hell. You’re not Lil’ So-So. You’re the mild sauce of your little twisted troop, so try harder if you want me to be scared.”
Shouting in anger after the insult, Sofia charges her silvery-bobbed opponent and pays for it when Sanders pivots and lifts a knee DEEP into the navel of the Latina, doubling the wide-eyed Garcia, an exhale bursting from between the Cuban’s lips.
Immediately, Kylie’s on her horse. Hitting the rubber-coated steel of the ropes for a quick u-turn, the Hawkeye races and forward flips through a crisp spinning neckbreaker. Ky puts Garcia on the mat, Sofia cradling the back of her neck, boot soles pattering against the canvas as she responds to the pain and frustration.
Sanders uses her dive and its momentum to hop to her feet, the crowd roaring its approval.
Kylie hustles to her fallen foe, latching onto each ankle and raising the tawny stems of the Caliente cutie. The Pixie steps over Sofia, twisting as she does, in turn flipping the cursing Cuban to her chest, Sanders ending in reverse straddle of Garcia’s backside. Kylie, still in possession of her foe’s stems, dips into a deep crouch to secure her Boston Crab.
As she shuffles in reverse and lowers, the Platinum Pixie has Sofia grimacing then mewling in anguish as the arch grows in Garcia’s vertebrae.
“Ask her,” the Pleasant Valley Princess insists.
Castle accedes to the senior member of the roster’s wishes, only to receive a furious spitting reply in the negative from the least accomplished of the Caliente crew.
Pressing her palms to the canvas, Sofia shows her strength, pushing her frame off the deck. Garcia dips her head, tucking her chin to her chest, and somersaults forward, breaking the Crab and sending a suddenly off-balance blonde backpedaling into a corner where the back of Ky’s skull THUMPS against the top buckle, loosening the lower limbs of the blonde.
Kylie throws her arms over the top rope on either side to help herself remain upright, watching intently as Garcia pushes to her feet, one of Sofia’s hands rubbing at the base of her spine as the Cuban’s focus turns from her discomfort to the one who created it.
Garcia pushes to her feet and charges in quick succession, catching Kylie flatfooted in the corner. The Latina dips a shoulder and dives into the ivory midriff of the Hawkeye, folding Sanders between the top and middle buckles. Withdrawing slightly, the tawny-skinned grappler thrusts her shoulder in a second then third time, forcing the breath from the Pixie.
Yanking the creased Sanders from amidst the corner, Sofia sends the silver-bobbed Iowan sprinting across the canvas, the PVP scurrying to the opposite buckles where she turns into a heavy back-first impact that cuts Ky’s strings. The veteran plops ass to canvas, landing hard on her scant behind, legs splayed in front of her.
Grin growing, the Cuban Missile zooms after her target in hot pursuit, leaping from several feet out with extended stems. Her damaging derriere SLAMS into Kylie’s chest, her junk into the blonde’s chin and Sofia rides her bronco to busting, thumping away with repeated pelvic thrusts, leaving Sanders battered and bewildered.
Garcia collects the bobbling Ky under her armpits and lifts the rubbery FAWN original, standing the dazed Hawkeye in front of her so she can pirouette at warp speed and land a DEVASTATING backfist to the right temple of the Platinum Pixie. Kylie timbers to her side, out cold.
A smirking Garcia mockingly blows ‘steam’ off her clenched digits.
“And that’s how you end a gringa bytch!”
The Cuban collects Ky’s ankles and pulls her distant from the potential safety of the cables. She lets the leaden legs drop, salutes the crowd in an unsavory manner, and plants a knee on Kylie’s gulping tummy, genuflecting atop the icon of FAWN resilience for the…
ONE…
TWO…
The arrogance of the pin leaves a back door open for the reviving blonde and Sanders pushes a shoulder off the canvas. A furious Garcia stands over Ky, the Pixie gamely pushing to all fours. The desperate blonde crawls toward the ropes, but as she does, the Caliente cutie moves to a standing straddle of her adversary’s braincase and sits out, butt-thumping the back of Sanders’ skull and SPIKING the Iowan’s forehead into the thinly-sheathed plywood with her signature Cuban Sandwich.
Sofia dismounts Ky’s platinum-hued mop, shoving the flaccid Sanders to her back and climbing aboard in a more customary lateral press, hooking Kylie’s limp far leg for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
No cigar for the Cuban. A spastic jerk from Kylie’s otherwise beaten, broken body sends her Corps into hysterics, a ‘Let’s Go Kylie!’ chant erupting and soon filling the arena.
Sofia nods incredulously and takes a glance down at the demolished Sanders.
“Only an old Karen like you would get cheers for simply surviving.”
With the Pixie splayed before the nearest corner, Sofia rises and steps over Ky’s carcass, grabs the top rope on either side and hops to the bottom cable. There she launches, thrusting her legs behind her and releasing. Garcia adds a beautiful twisting conclusion to CRUSHING Kylie with a Springboard Corkscrew Splash.
Springboard Corkscrew Splash ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=JSXnenyXmFc )
The raven-haired grappler scoops both of her foe’s legs behind the knees and pulls Sanders into a tight cradle, concurring with the count for the final…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
The stubborn Sanders throws her torso to the side and, while Garcia continues to possess Sanders’ stems, the Pixie’s upper half has one only shoulder remaining on the deck.
“Are you f’n kidding?” the denied Sofia asks to no one in particular.
Rising, Garcia tugs the remains of the veteran several feet from the corner, spreading the Pixie out like a lamb for slaughter in a wide spreadeagle.
With her target placed, Sofia climbs to the nearby penthouse perch and stares into the boisterous throng, cheered on by the pockets of Latina love in the Orlando audience. Raising her arms high, Garcia launches in a graceful backflip to finish off what’s left of the aging afterthought with a momentous moonsault.
Moonsault ( www.youtube.com/shorts/djXcOm_d2pg )
But as Sofia flips toward Sanders’ ruin, the crafty former farmgirl brings her knees up, leaving tawny tummy to find bony caps from on high, Garcia gutted by the jagged landing and the impaling knees of the Pleasant Valley Princess.
A groaning, retching Sofia rolls away from the disastrous landing, ending on her back, rocking from side to side, hugging her abdomen as if to keep her internal organs in place, sobbing through the agony.
Not far, Kylie responds to her plaintive Corps, the elfin blonde pushing to hands and knees to get her hazel eyes on the eviscerated Cuban.
“Look’s who’s back,” Ky huffs between deep breaths. “Back again.”
A tired smile quickly fades as she pushes to her feet and staggers to the skewered Latina. Kylie pulls Sofia to her feet and tugs the Caliente’s Cuban into a front facelock, tossing the limp arm of her adversary over the back of her neck.
Taking a moment to gather her reserves, the silvery-bobbed veteran vaults Garcia off the canvas with just enough strength to pivot and drop the Latina’s legs over the top cable and use the spring in the rubber-coated steel to flip Sofia up and over for an expertly executed Slingshot Suplex, Garcia’s spine THUMPING atop the canvas-covered floorboards.
Slingshot Suplex ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=PBtRhCYwb5A ) :41
The momentum of the impact takes Garcia to a seated position and a quickly rising Kylie sends a soccer kick between the dark-haired grappler’s shoulderblades. Sofia’s chest thrusts forward in response, the Cuban’s body arching in anguish. Ky wraps her hands around her foe’s cranium and pulls the reeling Garcia to her feet.
Sanders bullies Sofia back-first into a corner. She slips her arms under the thighs of the Latina and vaults Garcia to a seat on the top buckle. Turning to the middle of the ring with a grip on Sofia’s wrists, Kylie crosses her adversary’s arms as she spins and forces the Cuban into flight, ripping the Missile off her pad and POUNDING Garcia into the deck with an Iconoclasm.
Iconoclasm ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=GlDWO254zdQ )
Kylie scoots to a seated position, the crown of Sofia’s skull nestled tight to the juncture of her slender thighs. Sanders reaches forward, grasping a raised leg, and pulls the limb toward her, Garcia captured in a cradle for the…
ONE…
TWO…
It’s the Latina’s turn to show her stamina, kicking loose and heaving a shoulder off the canvas, Castle hopping to his feet with two fingers raised.
Moving quickly, the Hawkeye shoves Garcia to her chest and mounts her foe in a reverse-facing straddle of Sofia’s waist. The iconic Iowan raises her right arm high, fashioning the digits into a claw and raising the roof as Kylie’s Corps chants in unison.
“FARM…HAND!”
Kylie buries her talons into the left hammy of the squirming Garcia, sinking her clamp into the meat of the muscle and the nerve bundle beneath, gnawing her fingers into the thigh just below the curve of the Latina’s golden glute.
Sanders’ Farm Hand chews into the undefended flesh, forcing an involuntary spasm from the limb, Sofia yelping in pain. After a dozen seconds of hard work on the ‘farm’, the Cuban’s leg appears dead, Garcia trying to crawl from below Kylie’s undercarriage, pulling the gnarled stem like deadweight.
Rising from her backward-facing squat atop the waist of the wriggling, mewling Sofia, Sanders shakes out her hand, the fingers cramping from overuse. She turns and admires the welts in the Latina’s hamstring as well as the hitch in Sofia’s stride when Latina Heat uses the ropes to reach vertical.
“Not feeling so mouthy are ya?” the Platinum Pixie presumes.
A snarling Garcia limps through a sidestep away from the ropes, trying to work out the knots in her muscle while keeping clear of a pursuing PVP. The slowed Caliente cutie is caught by Sanders in a collar-and-elbow and with Sofia’s weakened stance, the Hawkeye easily shifts hip to hip with her foe, the women pointed in opposite directions.
The Pixie wraps her near arm around the Latina’s abdomen with a backhand grip and propels Sofia into the air, sitting out when Garcia’s head and shoulders are pointed to the mat. The ring-rattling conclusion of Ky’s Child of the Corn gutwrench driver leaves her dazed foe stacked on her shoulders.
Child of the Corn ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=_QnXw6m1GYw :05
Kylie cleverly keeps Sofia’s near leg hooked and, from her seat next to Garcia, holds her folded adversary in place for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
The Missile launches her shoulders off the canvas with a tremor, flopping to her side to save her match life.
A hopeful Sanders turns her gaze momentarily to Castle, but FAWN’s lead referee assures it’s only a two-count. The veteran slaps the canvas in disappointment and turns her attention back to her glassy-eyed opponent, Garcia having reached all fours but seemingly stuck in place, trying to blink her senses back into place.
A determined Pixie grabs a wrist and yanks Sofia back to her feet as she rises. Ky slips a dipped arm between Garcia’s tawny lower limbs and hups the fiery Cuban across her shoulders in a fireman’s carry.
Instantly, the Corps is on its feet, waiting for their cherished favorite to end the conflict in style with her iconic Pleasant Valley Driver.
Pleasant Valley Driver ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=yHOLSibZZJA )
But with Sofia ready for launch, Garcia throws pointed elbow after elbow into Kylie’s left temple, Sanders’ head rocked a half-dozen times by the desperate Sofia until the blonde’s strength fails her, Garcia slipping away, dropping to the canvas behind her foe.
Latina Heat keeps it simple from there, BLASTING a forearm shiver into the back of Sanders’ skull, the impact sending a potentially concussed Kylie down to one knee. Opportunity knocking, the Cuban backpedals to the nearest ropes and surges to the genuflecting Pixie. Sofia uses the lowered target to deliver a wicked Shining Wizard, the sweeping boot PLOWING into Kylie’s cheek and jaw, spinning the Hawkeye in a violent 180, Sanders ending in a twisted heap next to the Latina.
Shining Wizard ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=iiHreVqEhsY )
Sofia spreads the gobsmacked Pixie into a lifeless starfish and climbs aboard in a full body press pin, determined to end Muy Caliente’s war with the final victory with the…
ONE…
TWO…
Ky pushes a shoulder a few inches off the canvas, so little the Corps’ concern fills the arena. Sofia snatches her foe’s silvery mop and shakes the head of the beleaguered Sanders.
“You’re melting from Latina Heat, bytch,” Garcia informs vociferously.
Sofia shoves Kylie to her chest, sliding into position next to her, all the while applying her Cuban Crossface submission, then wrenching at the Pixie’s neck and back.
Cuban Crossface ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=lKmy4q-RPLs ) 3:56
The Missile works her gringa grappler like a part-time job, twisting the veteran into a Platinum pretzel.
“Ask her,” Sofia demands.
Nick does as he’s told, but a grimacing, teary-eyed Kylie refuses his offer with a grunt in the negative and the slightest shake of her head. Ky pivots slightly and reaches a boot toward the ropes, but inches away, Sofia gator rolls the women to the center, reapplying the vile grip and bearing down on the besieged blonde once more.
“Quit,” Garcia demands, her lip inches from Ky’s left ear. “QUIT!”
The persistent Platinum Pixie refuses to say the magic word, not with her fans adding “PLEASE…DON’T…!” to Sofia’s mandate.
Finally, the Cuban releases her submission, sinking her digits into Kylie’s scalp and SLAMMING her foe’s face into the mat. She scrubs it for good measure, drawing copious heat from the Corps for the shabby treatment of their redeemed heroine.
Sofia curses the FAWNatics in her mother tongue as she rises and forces Kylie to her back with a vicious stomp to the ribs that has Sanders collapsing around the impact.
Showing the fire of her acrobatics, the Missile leaps into an airborne somersault, dropping her legs across the Pleasant Valley Princess, one across her foe’s chest, the other her throat.
Somersault Legdrop ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=jvGzbzTJZRc ) :10
Ky quakes beneath the destructive impact and, with Garcia’s legs remaining draped across her foe’s body, Castle drops next to the duo, slapping the canvas for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
A furious Sofia runs both sets of fingers through her long, raven locks, unable to understand what is keeping her enemy from succumbing. She latches onto the platinum blonde bob, pulling Ky to a seated position, and slaps whatever taste remains from her foe.
Garcia pulls Kylie up as she rises, but as both women reach their feet, a flashing toe kick from the Pixie digs DEEP into Sofia’s solar plexus. Bent at the waist, the Cuban offers her noggin to Ky and Sanders doesn’t refuse, pulling it into a tight side headlock.
Gathering her bearings for a moment, Sanders’ muscle memory kicks in and she surges toward the ropes in front of her, pulling Sofia along for the ride. A few feet from the cables, Kylie leaps toward them, placing boot soles against the top strand. Using her abbreviated legs like pistons, she sends the duo through a tight u-turn and PLANTS Garcia’s head into the deck with a Springboard Bulldog.
Springboard Bulldog ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=8k0Ob4SC9sw ) 1:05
The Pixie is a little slow to press her advantage, pushing the Cuban to her back after a moment to rub her tailbone and blink a few more marbles into place. She climbs aboard her adversary in a tight lateral press, hooking Garcia’s far leg for a…
ONE…
TWO…
Sofia kicks loose, saving herself, but ending in a cloudy-eyed stupor, finding it difficult to move beyond a hip and shoulder.
Sanders, kneeling on her haunches next to the Latina, solves that problem, grabbing a wrist and ripping Garcia to her feet. Kylie pivots and tosses Sofia off with an Irish Whip, Latina Heat racing to the buckles and turning into a ring-rattling, back-first collision with the corner.
Ky chases after, seeing a blasted Garcia wavering in front of her. She sprints to her target, but Sofia uses her grips on the top ropes to vault her right leg high and catch Kylie on the chin. Sanders pirouettes and falls into the corner, Sofia’s stems draped over the shoulders of the Hawkeye.
But before the Cuban can take advantage, the veteran wraps her arms around the calves of her rival and YANKS Sofia down in a modified version of her Waterwheel Slam.
Waterwheel Slam ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=SevF_nbT4Lo ) :53
With Sofia face down and motionless after impact, a kneeling, spent Sanders sneaks an extra breath or two, seemingly unsure how to handle the Heat.
Instead of moving to the splayed Garcia, Sanders strides to the nearest corner and climbs.
Never a high-flyer of great renown, still Kylie was once upon a time trained by Shea London on the aerial arts. The Pixie rises carefully and turns to face her target. Steadying, the Platinum Pixie watches intently as Sofia, up to one knee, begins rising further, spinning toward her. The action prompts Ky to rise from her crouch and leap into the Orlando atmosphere.
The blonde’s boots lead the way, Kylie aiming a missile dropkick at Garcia’s chin.
The Cuban’s dark eyes widen in shock, but she has the sense to throw her body clear and leave Kylie nothing but thin air. Sanders THUMPS to the empty canvas, bouncing inches off the mat from the impact. Ky reaches for the base of her spine, her vertebrae taking the brunt of the damage from Sanders’ disastrous mistake.
As Kylie arches in anguish on the canvas, Sofia takes her foe’s place on the penthouse perch, ascending more fluidly to her position. She leaves Ky ‘s flight, both height and distance, far behind. Garcia reaches the stratosphere and PLOWS her soles into the face of the turning Sanders. The Cuban’s Missile lands with every bit of explosive force, sending the Pixie back somersaulting halfway across the ring. Kylie ends wedged into the opposite corner, shoulders leaning against the bottom buckle, her hazel eyes glassy.
Having kipped to her feet, Sofia runs toward the stymied Hawkeye. She leaps, pivoting 90 degrees in midair to slap a violent hip check into the mug of the Platinum Pixie. Her noggin rocked by the force, Kylie’s in little condition to object as Garcia grabs her ankles and drags Sanders’ broken frame to the middle.
Having been so close to victory multiple times previously, Sofia passes on the pin, apparently believing something more impactful is necessary to leave Kylie out for good.
As the Cuban plays with the emotions of the discouraged Corps and her own jubilant supporters, pumping a fist toward members of her Caliente Crew, the stubborn Iowan shoves slowly to her knees. The movement catches Garcia’s eye.
Sofia cartwheels toward her penitent foe, wrapping her golden-skinned legs around Kylie’s head when reaching a handstand next to the Hawkeye. With the scissors tightened, Garcia barrel-rolls forward, bringing Sanders with her, SPIKING her foe’s skull into the canvas with her Havana Sunset (headscissors DDT)
HAVANA SUNSET:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=jvGzbzTJZRc
Kylie flops to her back, all senses removed from her person by Sofia’s signature. She spreads in a wide starfish, Garcia collecting the alabaster left leg of the FAWN original, Sofia gaining a huge singles victory with the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Incredibly, Kylie throws a shoulder up one more time, digging deeper than even her truest believers could hope. The seated Cuban is beside herself as well as Sanders, a look of disbelief plastered, ‘what do I do?” all over her face.
The ‘Eureka’ moment comes soon enough, the Cuban pulling a flaccid Kylie to jellied legs from where Sofia guts her gringa with a toe kick to the tummy. With Sanders doubled at the waist, Sofia hops atop the lowered back of the Pixie, ready to deliver Garcia Later and finish Sanders without the shadow of a doubt with her Cuban Code Red.
Garcia Later ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lkji68FlDXE ) 10:23
But the seated landing across her vertebrae forces Kylie’s legs to liquify, the blonde unknowingly saving herself from ruin as she drops to hands and knees. Garcia dismounts her foe, stomping away from the fortunate fighter, a frustrated Sofia cursing as she turns to view the depleted Iowan.
“Get your ass up,” Sofia shouts and Sanders responds as if on cue, wearily pushing toward vertical.
Garcia backpedals to the nearest cables, rebounding with momentum toward her target when a second, or maybe third, wind enters the Platinum Pixie. Kylie leaps forward with shoulders lowered, NAILING the charging Cuban with a SPEAR from out of nowhere that nearly splits Garcia in half. The folded Sophia is PLANTED to the canvas with the perfect tackle.
Running on fumes and the last ounces of adrenaline, a sweat-soaked Kylie draws a gutted Garcia to her feet, then dips and hups Sofia across her shoulders in the ever so familiar fireman’s carry. With the Corps threatening to take the roof off, and with an arm wrapped behind the Cuban’s neck and knees, Kylie’s deadly Pleasant Valley Diver is hit with such force as to leave little doubt to the outcome.
Pleasant Valley Driver ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=yHOLSibZZJA )
An unconscious Sofia snoozes through the lateral press and leg-hook for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREEE!
With the ringing bell, Kylie’s body loses all tension. She lies spent atop her foe, leg hook unfastened, and there she remains through the announcer’s call.
“Your winner by pinfall, the Platinum Pixie, Kylie Sanders!”
Castle peels an exhausted Sanders off her foe, helping the Hawkeye to her feet. Ky only stays upright by leaning into the lead official. Nick raises an arm while assisting the victor from collapsing. A consumed Kylie turns to whisper in the man’s ear.
“Damn, Nick. I might be getting too old to keep up with these chicas.”
Castle looks down at the splattered Garcia.
“At least some evidence to the contrary,” he replies.
The glorious, melodious and upbeat Sixpence None The Richer’s ‘There She Goes’ sweeps through the arena, Kylie’s Corps roaring to their collective feet.
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=tMfXeuv4kZE )
The group’s favorite Girl Scout moves to the curtain and pushes through, raising the decibels by double. Despite her ‘Games’ loss and a Mania failure prior, Sanders remains sure of herself and her place in the FAWNiverse.
Moving to center stage, Kylie absorbs the adulation, smiling and waving, the sight of their redeemed Pleasant Valley Princess begetting more collective love in the direction of the silvery-bobbed beauty.
KYLIE SANDERS
Drawing on echoes of her original gear, Sanders sports a simple yellow-gold sports bra topside with black boy-cut shorts, black boots and pads. As she heads down the ramp, Ky cups a hand to an ear, enjoying the chants of ‘KY-LEE’ much more than the scattered attempts of a few remaining haters to continue with ‘TROLL…TROLL…TROLL”
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A beaming Sanders walks the aisle, happy to slap hands with her fans, gazing with delight at a poster proclaiming the Platinum Pixie as their Platinum Princess and a large placard making clear “We still love our Corps commander”, the recent discouraging results not lessening her fans’ devotion.
Kylie reaches the ring. She takes a moment to gaze around the arena at the display of affection. Sanders salutes her supporters before slipping through the cables.
Moving to the middle, Ky applauds the sellout crowd before raising a microphone to her full, Cupid’s Arrow lips.
“Thank you so much.”
The Hawkeye waits for the din to die down.
“We came up short at War Games, especially me.”
The crowd boos, refusing to entertain the thought.
“But if you’re ready, I’m ready to go back to war with all of you.”
The ruckus returns to cheers, Ky bowing to the supportive swarm.
Sanders hands the stick to the ring announcer and retreats to her assigned corner where she allows lead referee Nick Castle to check her for foreign objects. The official concludes as the announcer makes his introduction.
“Our next match is scheduled for one fall with a 20-minute time limit. From Pleasant Valley, Iowa, standing 5 feet 4 inches and weighing in at 115 pounds, the Platinum Pixie…KYLIE SANDERS!”
The house erupts in an encore of applause save for significant pockets of patronage for the Hawkeye’s lethal Latina foe. Kylie nervously hops and stretches, hoping to add to her record number of FAWN wins instead of accumulating another of her record number of losses.
Waiting for her cue, the recently reviled Cuban Missile joins in a group hug with her Caliiente counterparts, Soshana Soto and Gabby Mendoza wishing their amiga well as both have been banned from ringside for tonight’s follow-up fight.
Muy Caliente’s’ familiar accompaniment fills the Orlando airspace. the sellout throng passing on their former amateurish attempts to samba. With the Latinas and their Blackheart compatriot’s turn to the dark side, they instead test the volume of their lungs, releasing full-throated jeers.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ui0hDQLcWTg
“Time to kick that gringa bytch’s ass,” Mendoza assures.
“Hell yeah,” Soto adds. “Make her realize she don’t want any more of our heat.”
Garcia nods and strides into enemy territory, the Corps letting loose on their favorite’s increasingly bitter rival, the boos multiplying in volume as the raven-haired grappler grabs center stage and scowls at Kylie’s backers.
SOFIA GARCIA
With supportive signs mostly replaced by placards asking why Sofia’s broken so many hearts, the hot-tempered Cuban strides down the aisle. She acknowledges the pockets still supporting their Latina sister, raising a fist to salute the chicos and chicas.
The sultry Sofia wears a two-piece, neon, violet number that catches eyes and stirs hearts. Black boots and pads complete her gear. The white-hot Cuban gestures angrily at the leader of the motivated masses when she reaches the ring.
Garcia takes a predatory trip around the squared circle, her dark eyes rarely leaving Sanders. She rounds the last corner and bypasses the steps in favor of a low swooping leap that sends her skidding along the apron’s edge. She rises and hooks her arms over the top rope, hard cam side, then tumbles her way in.
A final hip swivel ensures the energy level remains high even as Garcia settles into the corner farthest from the Pixie to have her pads and boots checked by Castle.
The ring announcer takes the opportunity for the follow-up introduction.
“And her opponent, representing Charliente, hailing from Holguin, Cuba, she stands five feet two inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and fifteen pounds. She is the Cuban Missile… SOFIA GARCIA!”
The fiery islander heaves a right fist high and receives a not insubstantial ovation in return, proof at least the original Caliente crew maintain their sway over a healthy minority.
Nick waves for the bell and the desert to last month’s War Games entrée is underway.
Never the most creative combatant, Sanders heads directly for center stage while Sofia circles out of her corner, orbiting around the soon revolving Hawkeye. As the Cuban closes, Kylie reaches out and the grapplers tie up in a collar and elbow.
Each woman struggles for leverage in a waltz around the middle of the ring until the FAWN original tugs Garcia into a side headlock, working Sofia’s noggin in the crook of her right arm. Garcia’s palms raise to Kylie’s hips. She attempts to shove the Platinum Pixie off. No dice. Ky’s grip remains tight and she pulls Caliente’s Cuban with her through a quick crow hop before regaining her balance.
Sanders loosens her grasp to shift and lock arms. She hiptosses the Latina spitfire to her backside, Sofia grimacing as she lands on the tip of her tailbone.
Quickly on the move, Sanders hits the cables in front of her adversary and rebounds, diving into a low crossbody splash of the seated Garcia. Sofia’s legs point to the rafters with her shoulderblades planted and Ky across her chest for the…
ONE…
Garcia heaves the elfin blonde off after a single slap, hardly enough time for Kylie’s Corps to be disappointed. Sanders pops to her feet and takes toward a punt to Garcia’s ribs, but the Latina sweeps out the Iowan’s plant leg and Ky’s on her back before she can connect.
Sofia scrambles atop her black-n-gold target but can’t keep herself there, both women wheeling and twisting their way to the top before finding the tables quickly turned. After a half dozen flip-flopping, zero-count pins, the twosome break, ending on hands and knees a few feet distant, the FAWNatics giving each a healthy round of applause for their display of chain wrestling.
Neither grappler acknowledges the other, the heat between Caliente and Kylie having slowly bubbled to the now rolling boil after the past several months, this CNP cherry-on-top important to each fighter.
Losing on what are considered the two biggest cards of the year to her Caliente counterparts, Kylie reaches for another tie-up but calls an audible at the last second, sweeping around and behind Garcia, surrounding her foe’s midriff with a waistlock.
The Cuban Missile swings elbows, right and left, but Ky ducks each salvo, stubbornly controlling Sofia but unable to increase her advantage before Garcia walks her way to the ropes, latching onto the top strand and demanding a break.
Sanders releases and gives Sofia an unnecessary shove to a shoulder as she backs to the middle.
A snarling Sofia turns to cast her dark eyes in the gringa’s direction.
“You know I’m more heat than you can handle,” Garcia informs. “You don’t want to turn up the temperature.”
The veteran Sanders rolls her hazel peepers and motions Sofia forward.
“You’re not Gabby. Hell. You’re not Lil’ So-So. You’re the mild sauce of your little twisted troop, so try harder if you want me to be scared.”
Shouting in anger after the insult, Sofia charges her silvery-bobbed opponent and pays for it when Sanders pivots and lifts a knee DEEP into the navel of the Latina, doubling the wide-eyed Garcia, an exhale bursting from between the Cuban’s lips.
Immediately, Kylie’s on her horse. Hitting the rubber-coated steel of the ropes for a quick u-turn, the Hawkeye races and forward flips through a crisp spinning neckbreaker. Ky puts Garcia on the mat, Sofia cradling the back of her neck, boot soles pattering against the canvas as she responds to the pain and frustration.
Sanders uses her dive and its momentum to hop to her feet, the crowd roaring its approval.
Kylie hustles to her fallen foe, latching onto each ankle and raising the tawny stems of the Caliente cutie. The Pixie steps over Sofia, twisting as she does, in turn flipping the cursing Cuban to her chest, Sanders ending in reverse straddle of Garcia’s backside. Kylie, still in possession of her foe’s stems, dips into a deep crouch to secure her Boston Crab.
As she shuffles in reverse and lowers, the Platinum Pixie has Sofia grimacing then mewling in anguish as the arch grows in Garcia’s vertebrae.
“Ask her,” the Pleasant Valley Princess insists.
Castle accedes to the senior member of the roster’s wishes, only to receive a furious spitting reply in the negative from the least accomplished of the Caliente crew.
Pressing her palms to the canvas, Sofia shows her strength, pushing her frame off the deck. Garcia dips her head, tucking her chin to her chest, and somersaults forward, breaking the Crab and sending a suddenly off-balance blonde backpedaling into a corner where the back of Ky’s skull THUMPS against the top buckle, loosening the lower limbs of the blonde.
Kylie throws her arms over the top rope on either side to help herself remain upright, watching intently as Garcia pushes to her feet, one of Sofia’s hands rubbing at the base of her spine as the Cuban’s focus turns from her discomfort to the one who created it.
Garcia pushes to her feet and charges in quick succession, catching Kylie flatfooted in the corner. The Latina dips a shoulder and dives into the ivory midriff of the Hawkeye, folding Sanders between the top and middle buckles. Withdrawing slightly, the tawny-skinned grappler thrusts her shoulder in a second then third time, forcing the breath from the Pixie.
Yanking the creased Sanders from amidst the corner, Sofia sends the silver-bobbed Iowan sprinting across the canvas, the PVP scurrying to the opposite buckles where she turns into a heavy back-first impact that cuts Ky’s strings. The veteran plops ass to canvas, landing hard on her scant behind, legs splayed in front of her.
Grin growing, the Cuban Missile zooms after her target in hot pursuit, leaping from several feet out with extended stems. Her damaging derriere SLAMS into Kylie’s chest, her junk into the blonde’s chin and Sofia rides her bronco to busting, thumping away with repeated pelvic thrusts, leaving Sanders battered and bewildered.
Garcia collects the bobbling Ky under her armpits and lifts the rubbery FAWN original, standing the dazed Hawkeye in front of her so she can pirouette at warp speed and land a DEVASTATING backfist to the right temple of the Platinum Pixie. Kylie timbers to her side, out cold.
A smirking Garcia mockingly blows ‘steam’ off her clenched digits.
“And that’s how you end a gringa bytch!”
The Cuban collects Ky’s ankles and pulls her distant from the potential safety of the cables. She lets the leaden legs drop, salutes the crowd in an unsavory manner, and plants a knee on Kylie’s gulping tummy, genuflecting atop the icon of FAWN resilience for the…
ONE…
TWO…
The arrogance of the pin leaves a back door open for the reviving blonde and Sanders pushes a shoulder off the canvas. A furious Garcia stands over Ky, the Pixie gamely pushing to all fours. The desperate blonde crawls toward the ropes, but as she does, the Caliente cutie moves to a standing straddle of her adversary’s braincase and sits out, butt-thumping the back of Sanders’ skull and SPIKING the Iowan’s forehead into the thinly-sheathed plywood with her signature Cuban Sandwich.
Sofia dismounts Ky’s platinum-hued mop, shoving the flaccid Sanders to her back and climbing aboard in a more customary lateral press, hooking Kylie’s limp far leg for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
No cigar for the Cuban. A spastic jerk from Kylie’s otherwise beaten, broken body sends her Corps into hysterics, a ‘Let’s Go Kylie!’ chant erupting and soon filling the arena.
Sofia nods incredulously and takes a glance down at the demolished Sanders.
“Only an old Karen like you would get cheers for simply surviving.”
With the Pixie splayed before the nearest corner, Sofia rises and steps over Ky’s carcass, grabs the top rope on either side and hops to the bottom cable. There she launches, thrusting her legs behind her and releasing. Garcia adds a beautiful twisting conclusion to CRUSHING Kylie with a Springboard Corkscrew Splash.
Springboard Corkscrew Splash ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=JSXnenyXmFc )
The raven-haired grappler scoops both of her foe’s legs behind the knees and pulls Sanders into a tight cradle, concurring with the count for the final…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
The stubborn Sanders throws her torso to the side and, while Garcia continues to possess Sanders’ stems, the Pixie’s upper half has one only shoulder remaining on the deck.
“Are you f’n kidding?” the denied Sofia asks to no one in particular.
Rising, Garcia tugs the remains of the veteran several feet from the corner, spreading the Pixie out like a lamb for slaughter in a wide spreadeagle.
With her target placed, Sofia climbs to the nearby penthouse perch and stares into the boisterous throng, cheered on by the pockets of Latina love in the Orlando audience. Raising her arms high, Garcia launches in a graceful backflip to finish off what’s left of the aging afterthought with a momentous moonsault.
Moonsault ( www.youtube.com/shorts/djXcOm_d2pg )
But as Sofia flips toward Sanders’ ruin, the crafty former farmgirl brings her knees up, leaving tawny tummy to find bony caps from on high, Garcia gutted by the jagged landing and the impaling knees of the Pleasant Valley Princess.
A groaning, retching Sofia rolls away from the disastrous landing, ending on her back, rocking from side to side, hugging her abdomen as if to keep her internal organs in place, sobbing through the agony.
Not far, Kylie responds to her plaintive Corps, the elfin blonde pushing to hands and knees to get her hazel eyes on the eviscerated Cuban.
“Look’s who’s back,” Ky huffs between deep breaths. “Back again.”
A tired smile quickly fades as she pushes to her feet and staggers to the skewered Latina. Kylie pulls Sofia to her feet and tugs the Caliente’s Cuban into a front facelock, tossing the limp arm of her adversary over the back of her neck.
Taking a moment to gather her reserves, the silvery-bobbed veteran vaults Garcia off the canvas with just enough strength to pivot and drop the Latina’s legs over the top cable and use the spring in the rubber-coated steel to flip Sofia up and over for an expertly executed Slingshot Suplex, Garcia’s spine THUMPING atop the canvas-covered floorboards.
Slingshot Suplex ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=PBtRhCYwb5A ) :41
The momentum of the impact takes Garcia to a seated position and a quickly rising Kylie sends a soccer kick between the dark-haired grappler’s shoulderblades. Sofia’s chest thrusts forward in response, the Cuban’s body arching in anguish. Ky wraps her hands around her foe’s cranium and pulls the reeling Garcia to her feet.
Sanders bullies Sofia back-first into a corner. She slips her arms under the thighs of the Latina and vaults Garcia to a seat on the top buckle. Turning to the middle of the ring with a grip on Sofia’s wrists, Kylie crosses her adversary’s arms as she spins and forces the Cuban into flight, ripping the Missile off her pad and POUNDING Garcia into the deck with an Iconoclasm.
Iconoclasm ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=GlDWO254zdQ )
Kylie scoots to a seated position, the crown of Sofia’s skull nestled tight to the juncture of her slender thighs. Sanders reaches forward, grasping a raised leg, and pulls the limb toward her, Garcia captured in a cradle for the…
ONE…
TWO…
It’s the Latina’s turn to show her stamina, kicking loose and heaving a shoulder off the canvas, Castle hopping to his feet with two fingers raised.
Moving quickly, the Hawkeye shoves Garcia to her chest and mounts her foe in a reverse-facing straddle of Sofia’s waist. The iconic Iowan raises her right arm high, fashioning the digits into a claw and raising the roof as Kylie’s Corps chants in unison.
“FARM…HAND!”
Kylie buries her talons into the left hammy of the squirming Garcia, sinking her clamp into the meat of the muscle and the nerve bundle beneath, gnawing her fingers into the thigh just below the curve of the Latina’s golden glute.
Sanders’ Farm Hand chews into the undefended flesh, forcing an involuntary spasm from the limb, Sofia yelping in pain. After a dozen seconds of hard work on the ‘farm’, the Cuban’s leg appears dead, Garcia trying to crawl from below Kylie’s undercarriage, pulling the gnarled stem like deadweight.
Rising from her backward-facing squat atop the waist of the wriggling, mewling Sofia, Sanders shakes out her hand, the fingers cramping from overuse. She turns and admires the welts in the Latina’s hamstring as well as the hitch in Sofia’s stride when Latina Heat uses the ropes to reach vertical.
“Not feeling so mouthy are ya?” the Platinum Pixie presumes.
A snarling Garcia limps through a sidestep away from the ropes, trying to work out the knots in her muscle while keeping clear of a pursuing PVP. The slowed Caliente cutie is caught by Sanders in a collar-and-elbow and with Sofia’s weakened stance, the Hawkeye easily shifts hip to hip with her foe, the women pointed in opposite directions.
The Pixie wraps her near arm around the Latina’s abdomen with a backhand grip and propels Sofia into the air, sitting out when Garcia’s head and shoulders are pointed to the mat. The ring-rattling conclusion of Ky’s Child of the Corn gutwrench driver leaves her dazed foe stacked on her shoulders.
Child of the Corn ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=_QnXw6m1GYw :05
Kylie cleverly keeps Sofia’s near leg hooked and, from her seat next to Garcia, holds her folded adversary in place for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
The Missile launches her shoulders off the canvas with a tremor, flopping to her side to save her match life.
A hopeful Sanders turns her gaze momentarily to Castle, but FAWN’s lead referee assures it’s only a two-count. The veteran slaps the canvas in disappointment and turns her attention back to her glassy-eyed opponent, Garcia having reached all fours but seemingly stuck in place, trying to blink her senses back into place.
A determined Pixie grabs a wrist and yanks Sofia back to her feet as she rises. Ky slips a dipped arm between Garcia’s tawny lower limbs and hups the fiery Cuban across her shoulders in a fireman’s carry.
Instantly, the Corps is on its feet, waiting for their cherished favorite to end the conflict in style with her iconic Pleasant Valley Driver.
Pleasant Valley Driver ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=yHOLSibZZJA )
But with Sofia ready for launch, Garcia throws pointed elbow after elbow into Kylie’s left temple, Sanders’ head rocked a half-dozen times by the desperate Sofia until the blonde’s strength fails her, Garcia slipping away, dropping to the canvas behind her foe.
Latina Heat keeps it simple from there, BLASTING a forearm shiver into the back of Sanders’ skull, the impact sending a potentially concussed Kylie down to one knee. Opportunity knocking, the Cuban backpedals to the nearest ropes and surges to the genuflecting Pixie. Sofia uses the lowered target to deliver a wicked Shining Wizard, the sweeping boot PLOWING into Kylie’s cheek and jaw, spinning the Hawkeye in a violent 180, Sanders ending in a twisted heap next to the Latina.
Shining Wizard ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=iiHreVqEhsY )
Sofia spreads the gobsmacked Pixie into a lifeless starfish and climbs aboard in a full body press pin, determined to end Muy Caliente’s war with the final victory with the…
ONE…
TWO…
Ky pushes a shoulder a few inches off the canvas, so little the Corps’ concern fills the arena. Sofia snatches her foe’s silvery mop and shakes the head of the beleaguered Sanders.
“You’re melting from Latina Heat, bytch,” Garcia informs vociferously.
Sofia shoves Kylie to her chest, sliding into position next to her, all the while applying her Cuban Crossface submission, then wrenching at the Pixie’s neck and back.
Cuban Crossface ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=lKmy4q-RPLs ) 3:56
The Missile works her gringa grappler like a part-time job, twisting the veteran into a Platinum pretzel.
“Ask her,” Sofia demands.
Nick does as he’s told, but a grimacing, teary-eyed Kylie refuses his offer with a grunt in the negative and the slightest shake of her head. Ky pivots slightly and reaches a boot toward the ropes, but inches away, Sofia gator rolls the women to the center, reapplying the vile grip and bearing down on the besieged blonde once more.
“Quit,” Garcia demands, her lip inches from Ky’s left ear. “QUIT!”
The persistent Platinum Pixie refuses to say the magic word, not with her fans adding “PLEASE…DON’T…!” to Sofia’s mandate.
Finally, the Cuban releases her submission, sinking her digits into Kylie’s scalp and SLAMMING her foe’s face into the mat. She scrubs it for good measure, drawing copious heat from the Corps for the shabby treatment of their redeemed heroine.
Sofia curses the FAWNatics in her mother tongue as she rises and forces Kylie to her back with a vicious stomp to the ribs that has Sanders collapsing around the impact.
Showing the fire of her acrobatics, the Missile leaps into an airborne somersault, dropping her legs across the Pleasant Valley Princess, one across her foe’s chest, the other her throat.
Somersault Legdrop ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=jvGzbzTJZRc ) :10
Ky quakes beneath the destructive impact and, with Garcia’s legs remaining draped across her foe’s body, Castle drops next to the duo, slapping the canvas for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
A furious Sofia runs both sets of fingers through her long, raven locks, unable to understand what is keeping her enemy from succumbing. She latches onto the platinum blonde bob, pulling Ky to a seated position, and slaps whatever taste remains from her foe.
Garcia pulls Kylie up as she rises, but as both women reach their feet, a flashing toe kick from the Pixie digs DEEP into Sofia’s solar plexus. Bent at the waist, the Cuban offers her noggin to Ky and Sanders doesn’t refuse, pulling it into a tight side headlock.
Gathering her bearings for a moment, Sanders’ muscle memory kicks in and she surges toward the ropes in front of her, pulling Sofia along for the ride. A few feet from the cables, Kylie leaps toward them, placing boot soles against the top strand. Using her abbreviated legs like pistons, she sends the duo through a tight u-turn and PLANTS Garcia’s head into the deck with a Springboard Bulldog.
Springboard Bulldog ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=8k0Ob4SC9sw ) 1:05
The Pixie is a little slow to press her advantage, pushing the Cuban to her back after a moment to rub her tailbone and blink a few more marbles into place. She climbs aboard her adversary in a tight lateral press, hooking Garcia’s far leg for a…
ONE…
TWO…
Sofia kicks loose, saving herself, but ending in a cloudy-eyed stupor, finding it difficult to move beyond a hip and shoulder.
Sanders, kneeling on her haunches next to the Latina, solves that problem, grabbing a wrist and ripping Garcia to her feet. Kylie pivots and tosses Sofia off with an Irish Whip, Latina Heat racing to the buckles and turning into a ring-rattling, back-first collision with the corner.
Ky chases after, seeing a blasted Garcia wavering in front of her. She sprints to her target, but Sofia uses her grips on the top ropes to vault her right leg high and catch Kylie on the chin. Sanders pirouettes and falls into the corner, Sofia’s stems draped over the shoulders of the Hawkeye.
But before the Cuban can take advantage, the veteran wraps her arms around the calves of her rival and YANKS Sofia down in a modified version of her Waterwheel Slam.
Waterwheel Slam ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=SevF_nbT4Lo ) :53
With Sofia face down and motionless after impact, a kneeling, spent Sanders sneaks an extra breath or two, seemingly unsure how to handle the Heat.
Instead of moving to the splayed Garcia, Sanders strides to the nearest corner and climbs.
Never a high-flyer of great renown, still Kylie was once upon a time trained by Shea London on the aerial arts. The Pixie rises carefully and turns to face her target. Steadying, the Platinum Pixie watches intently as Sofia, up to one knee, begins rising further, spinning toward her. The action prompts Ky to rise from her crouch and leap into the Orlando atmosphere.
The blonde’s boots lead the way, Kylie aiming a missile dropkick at Garcia’s chin.
The Cuban’s dark eyes widen in shock, but she has the sense to throw her body clear and leave Kylie nothing but thin air. Sanders THUMPS to the empty canvas, bouncing inches off the mat from the impact. Ky reaches for the base of her spine, her vertebrae taking the brunt of the damage from Sanders’ disastrous mistake.
As Kylie arches in anguish on the canvas, Sofia takes her foe’s place on the penthouse perch, ascending more fluidly to her position. She leaves Ky ‘s flight, both height and distance, far behind. Garcia reaches the stratosphere and PLOWS her soles into the face of the turning Sanders. The Cuban’s Missile lands with every bit of explosive force, sending the Pixie back somersaulting halfway across the ring. Kylie ends wedged into the opposite corner, shoulders leaning against the bottom buckle, her hazel eyes glassy.
Having kipped to her feet, Sofia runs toward the stymied Hawkeye. She leaps, pivoting 90 degrees in midair to slap a violent hip check into the mug of the Platinum Pixie. Her noggin rocked by the force, Kylie’s in little condition to object as Garcia grabs her ankles and drags Sanders’ broken frame to the middle.
Having been so close to victory multiple times previously, Sofia passes on the pin, apparently believing something more impactful is necessary to leave Kylie out for good.
As the Cuban plays with the emotions of the discouraged Corps and her own jubilant supporters, pumping a fist toward members of her Caliente Crew, the stubborn Iowan shoves slowly to her knees. The movement catches Garcia’s eye.
Sofia cartwheels toward her penitent foe, wrapping her golden-skinned legs around Kylie’s head when reaching a handstand next to the Hawkeye. With the scissors tightened, Garcia barrel-rolls forward, bringing Sanders with her, SPIKING her foe’s skull into the canvas with her Havana Sunset (headscissors DDT)
HAVANA SUNSET:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=jvGzbzTJZRc
Kylie flops to her back, all senses removed from her person by Sofia’s signature. She spreads in a wide starfish, Garcia collecting the alabaster left leg of the FAWN original, Sofia gaining a huge singles victory with the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Incredibly, Kylie throws a shoulder up one more time, digging deeper than even her truest believers could hope. The seated Cuban is beside herself as well as Sanders, a look of disbelief plastered, ‘what do I do?” all over her face.
The ‘Eureka’ moment comes soon enough, the Cuban pulling a flaccid Kylie to jellied legs from where Sofia guts her gringa with a toe kick to the tummy. With Sanders doubled at the waist, Sofia hops atop the lowered back of the Pixie, ready to deliver Garcia Later and finish Sanders without the shadow of a doubt with her Cuban Code Red.
Garcia Later ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lkji68FlDXE ) 10:23
But the seated landing across her vertebrae forces Kylie’s legs to liquify, the blonde unknowingly saving herself from ruin as she drops to hands and knees. Garcia dismounts her foe, stomping away from the fortunate fighter, a frustrated Sofia cursing as she turns to view the depleted Iowan.
“Get your ass up,” Sofia shouts and Sanders responds as if on cue, wearily pushing toward vertical.
Garcia backpedals to the nearest cables, rebounding with momentum toward her target when a second, or maybe third, wind enters the Platinum Pixie. Kylie leaps forward with shoulders lowered, NAILING the charging Cuban with a SPEAR from out of nowhere that nearly splits Garcia in half. The folded Sophia is PLANTED to the canvas with the perfect tackle.
Running on fumes and the last ounces of adrenaline, a sweat-soaked Kylie draws a gutted Garcia to her feet, then dips and hups Sofia across her shoulders in the ever so familiar fireman’s carry. With the Corps threatening to take the roof off, and with an arm wrapped behind the Cuban’s neck and knees, Kylie’s deadly Pleasant Valley Diver is hit with such force as to leave little doubt to the outcome.
Pleasant Valley Driver ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=yHOLSibZZJA )
An unconscious Sofia snoozes through the lateral press and leg-hook for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREEE!
With the ringing bell, Kylie’s body loses all tension. She lies spent atop her foe, leg hook unfastened, and there she remains through the announcer’s call.
“Your winner by pinfall, the Platinum Pixie, Kylie Sanders!”
Castle peels an exhausted Sanders off her foe, helping the Hawkeye to her feet. Ky only stays upright by leaning into the lead official. Nick raises an arm while assisting the victor from collapsing. A consumed Kylie turns to whisper in the man’s ear.
“Damn, Nick. I might be getting too old to keep up with these chicas.”
Castle looks down at the splattered Garcia.
“At least some evidence to the contrary,” he replies.