Post by hawkeye on Mar 10, 2023 0:57:46 GMT
With 2023 off to a fast start courtesy what some considered an upset of the dangerous Estrina Starfire, the woman with the most seniority on FAWN’s roster paces nervously, appearing more a rookie.
Though tonight’s foe is more a guest star in Orlando the last few years, the Emirati Assassin always poses a difficult test to pass. Elfin features pinched in stern concentration, the worry in Sanders’ face seems to clear when the Platinum Pixie hears her own version of Old Glory emanate from the bowl.
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. With a final fantastic run a possibility for the organization original, at least in the hearts of her Corps, Sanders seems 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 from the swarm.
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’ that overwhelm her accompaniment.
( 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 to be worth more than gold and a large placard making clear “We’ll always love our Corps commander”.
Reaching the ring and climbing the steps, Ky takes a moment to gaze around the arena at the massive 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.
“Are you ready to march with me to victory?”
The crowd responds with an energetic “YES’ chant.
“Well, if you’re all with me, there’s no way I can lose.”
The ovation seems to choke up the Hawkeye.
Sanders hands her stick to the ring announcer and retreats to her assigned corner where she allows lead referee Nick Castle to begin his cursory check as her introduction commences.
“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 as 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.
With the crowd stirring in anticipation, they erupt in surprise and alarm 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 the self-proclaimed Best Thing to Ever Happen to FAWN, though she’s happened less and less in Orlando, her time mostly spent headlining a Saudi-funded European offshoot. The hands of the former Lightweight champion spread to the sides.
All of the Lights youtu.be/HAfFfqiYLp0?t=65
ZOE SCOTT
‘Popping’ her flashbulb sigil, the Ultimate Diva swaggers toward the ring as every light in the building strobes.
Delighting in the stunned faces, the dazzling brunette beauty wears her customary grey Calvin Klein-style sports bra and briefs, monogrammed with her own name instead of the famous designer, her pads glittering gold.
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 a ready-made assistant not available on this side of the Atlantic, Zoe selects a nearby ring technician and clicks her fingers.
“Take these,” she snaps. “And be sure I receive them in the same condition or you will find yourself without employment.”
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.
“And her opponent, who will bring the lightweight division back to the forefront of FAWN. The long dark night soon to be 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, the jeering crowd making sure Zoe knows she lost to Lisa Dream the last time she planned her triumphant return.
Without ever acknowledging the Pleasant Valley Princess, the Pixie mere steps away, the Dubai Diva lifts the stick to her lips.
“Your eyes do not deceive. I have allowed you to become the luckiest crowd in FAWN’s long history once more. Despite that awful Dream delaying the inevitable, tonight I will break all your hearts and reclaim the division I made important. First, I will destroy this sad shell of a failure then sandblast that sorry brat, making my division and ultimately FAWN relevant again.”
Apparently done, Zoe walks toward her corner, microphone still in hand. Peeking over a shoulder, the Emirati realizes Kylie’s attention has been diverted, waving to a devoted daughter of the Corps.
Spinning on a dime, she races to the Platinum Pixie and THUMPS Sanders in the back of the skull with the microphone, a loud THUNK conveying the brutal connection.
With the attack before the bell, Castle can’t disqualify the vile Zoe and, when Scott tosses the stick out of the ring and demands the bell, Nick can do little but follow FAWN’s liberal rubrics regarding starting matches.
As the outraged crowd, lets Scott and Castle know what they think about the opening tableau, the tolling starts the match with Kylie semi-conscious at Zoe’s feet.
“Back to being a punching bag for the best,” Zoe chuckles, sinking a set of manicured nails into the scalp of the FAWN original.
Scott rips Ky to her feet and gives the bleary-eyed Pixie a wicked bytch slap that spins the blonde’s head like it’s on a swivel. When Sanders’ noggin returns from the trip, a dazed look on the blonde’s face, the Dubai Diva stuffs Kylie’s head under an arm, securing a front facelock, then tosses a limp arm of the Hawkeye over a shoulder.
Grabbing a handful of spandex on Sanders’ hip, the Best Thing That Ever Happened launches Kylie into a vertical suplex position, stalling Sanders out with the Hawkeye’s boot soles pointed to the rafters. There the brunette shows her power superiority, keeping Ky overturned and elevated, the blood rushing to the Iowan’s head until Zoe allows Kylie to tumble over and CRASH to the canvas.
Vertical Suplex ( www.youtube.com/shorts/enk_0Twr158 )
Ky bounces off the deck to a seated position, face pinched in pain, grasping at the base of her spine with a palm.
The Emirati Assassin kips to her feet to jeers from Kylie’s Corps. She dramatically dusts off a shoulder, them the opposite number, showing the fans the best lightweight ever is out of Sanders’ league.
Grabbing a wrist and shoulder, Scott hauls an already reeling Kylie to her feet and Irish Whips her foe to the far ropes. With Zoe settling in a crouch as she positions her mid-ring for the Platinum Pixie’s return, the assembled understand the Oil Baroness isn’t interested in making this a long night’s work.
As Kylie closes the gap between them, Zoe springs out of her crouch and nearly decapitates Ky with a rising palm strike to the jaw, Scott rightly monikered the Showstopper.
Showstopper ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=f-JtQQsO2CI )
The Pixie’s head snaps back in violent, whiplash fashion, her ivory-skinned frame following suit until she lies in a motionless spreadeagle beneath a beaming Dubai Diva.
Crowd silenced, they watch in their own stupor as Scott drops her body across the flattened Sanders in a lateral press, hooking the far leg for good measure for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Ky resuscitates, spasming enough to lift a shoulder off the deck and keep her match hopes alive against the loathsome Zoe.
Scott shakes her head in disdain.
“Know your place, farm girl. My division is for the glitterati, not for some over-the-hill, Midwestern clodhopper.”
Zoe wraps both hands around blonde’s braincase and pulls Kylie up with her as she rises. A dipping Scott draws a wobbling Ky close, embracing the Pixie. The glamorous Emirati cinches her arms around Sanders, drawing a breathy grasp as Scott closes the bearhug tight on her adversary.
Zoe lifts the smaller woman off the canvas, Ky weakly prying at Scott’s arms without success, when the Emirati Assassin genuflects and sends Kylie’s crotch CRASHING down on the plank of the brunette’s upper right leg. Privates punished, Ky hops into the air, knees knocking by the time she comes down, elfin features twisted in pain.
Frozen in front of a rising Diva, Kylie can manage nothing in the way of defense when Zoe sinks a set of ruby-tipped nails into Sanders’ platinum, pixie-cut hair and sits out. The wide-eyed face of the veteran THUMPS into the thinly-sheathed floorboards, bouncing off the deck, the sit-out facebuster rocking the floundering Hawkeye.
Sit-out facebuster ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=tomRsejZZCY ) :27
Kylie remains face down, offering little more than a twitch or two, Zoe continuing to rampage over FAWN’s elder stateswoman.
Scott sneeringly rolls Ky to her back, Sanders remaining within the outstretched legs of her foe. The Best Thing The Ever Happened to FAWN reaches forward and collects Kylie’s abbreviated, alabaster lower limbs, then folds the Pixie’s legs atop Kylie’s chest in a matchbook for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
The body of the Pleasant Valley Princess springs open, both shoulders off the mat with a split-second to spare. Ky flops to her side, still alive, her never-say-die attitude shining through. But having to apply it this early must be shocking and disheartening to her Corps.
Zoe snatches Kylie’s silvery locks, pulls her foe’s head up and NAILS her foe on the crown of her cranium with the pointed elbow of the opposite arm, over and over, a half-dozen connecting before the Oil Baroness tosses Ky’s limp form aside and pushes to her feet.
The brunette bows to the frustrated fans, angered by her domination of their beloved Pixie.
Scott drops to her side and rolls under the bottom rope, the soles of her custom tennies touching the arena floor.
Again, using Kylie’s hair as a handle, Zoe drags Sanders toward the nearest ring post from outside. She draws her foe’s spine to the steel, bending the vertebrae around the unforgiving post, trying to break Kylie’s back while Castle calls for the Emirati Assassin to halt her vile attack.
Ring post attack ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=N39-kRet_OA ) 1:30
With one grip in the Hawkeye’s hair and the other around an ankle, Zoe makes a torturous bow out of the wailing Sanders, Kylie pleading for a break and Castle demanding one. But not until Nick starts a count and makes it to ‘FOUR’ does Zoe end her cruelty, Scott releasing and kicking Ky back toward the middle.
Having rolled several feet from the corner, the Pixie ends on her back, an arm twisted behind and underneath, the Iowan looking broken by the Dubai Diva.
Zoe slides under the bottom rope and climbs to the top buckle, high above her splattered foil. From her penthouse perch, Zoe dives toward her target with a leaping somersault senton.
But instead of CRASHING across the open ivory tummy of the Pixie, Zoe finds nothing but unforgiving mat, the ring rattling when Kylie rolls out of reach of the aerial assault.
For long seconds, a spent Sanders and a stymied Scott stare into the rafters. And it’s the blonde bulldog moving to vertical first. But Zoe isn’t far behind, reaching her stance a second behind Ky.
The extra tick is all the Hawkeye needs to drive a toe kick deep into the Diva’s tanned abdomen, doubling her foe. Ky follows up quickly, blasting the lowered head of the brunette back with frightening force courtesy a nasty European Uppercut under the chin. Scott throws her arms over the ropes on either side of a corner as she tumbles in tight to the crease.
Kylie scoops her arms beneath the Ultimate Diva’s thighs and boosts Zoe to a seat on the top buckle. Sanders crosses the arms of the stunned Scott as she turns away from the self-proclaimed Best Lightweight Ever. Leaning forward with her grips still in place, the wily veteran RIPS Zoe off her elevated stool, sending the Baroness clattering to the canvas with an Iconoclasm.
Iconoclasm ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=GlDWO254zdQ )
Sanders butt-scoots her way to an awkward pin attempt, the Dubai Diva down for…
ONE…
…and that’s all as Zoe shoves the Platinum Pixie off and rolls out of the ring.
Landing on her feet, she backpedals to the steel barricade behind her to gather some breathing room. But Sanders isn’t interested in her adversary getting valuable downtime. Ky slides out around a corner, out of the Ultimate Diva’s line of sight, and comes barreling around, NAILING Zoe with a spear that would make any Hawkeye footballer proud.
Sanders nearly splits Scott in half with the tackle, the Emirati Assassin’s body folding around the delving shoulder of the blonde before Zoe is POUNDED into the thinly-padded concrete.
A kneeling Sanders pumps a fist to the roaring crowd. She hauls a moaning, gutted Zoe up with her and leans the dark-haired grappler against the steel divider, Zoe’s pained features pointed toward the delighted mob. Behind her foe, Ky dips her head between Scott’s sinewy stems and lifts the startled Scott to an electric chair seat atop Kylie’s shoulders.
Zoe tries to send the Pixie backflipping to a piledriving spike hurricarana by throwing her body weight backward, but Sanders uses the barricade to hold onto vertical and keep her balance, Scott draped down her back.
With Kylie’s arms wrapping around her foe’s shins, Sanders uses her underappreciated strength to buggywhip Zoe’s body forward into a variation of her Iowa Waterwheel slam, Ky sitting out while the Oil Baroness slams face and chest-fist into the thinly-sheathed cement of the arena floor.
Iowa Waterwheel ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=SevF_nbT4Lo ) 1:00
The crowd can’t help but reflexively groan in sympathy for a moment, but then, realizing who’s received the brunt of the attack, roars back to life, the ovation enormous when Kylie springs to her feet and celebrates with her adoring Corps.
With Castle’s count growing, Kylie scoops Scott off the floor and stuffs her lightweight rival back into the ring.
The Platinum Pixie climbs to the apron and steps a leg through the rubber-coated steel strands when two women in red hoodies and similarly hued spandex boy-cut trunks hop the juncture of two barricades at the corner of the ring area.
Reaching Ky’s remaining planted boot simultaneously, each grabs the ankle and yanks toward them, upending Sanders, Kylie’s wickets split on the middle rope.
The cloaked women leap to ringside and begin pumping the middle cable up and down on either side of the straddling Sanders, Ky caught in a terrible predicament as the rope drives into her tenderized privates again and again. The Pixie’s hazel eyes grow watery, her jaw dropping wide.
Momentarily taken aback by the assault, Castle finally intervenes, calling for the bell. The tolling rings throughout the bowl as the duo end Sanders’ anguish-inducing ride, then shove the bow-legged blonde into the confines of the ring.
The women scrape a whimpering Ky off the canvas, collecting her in a double front facelock. They lay out in unison, SPIKING the skull of the Pleasant Valley Princess into the deck, the Hawkeye tumbling over in a somersault to an unconscious starfish.
As Nick places himself between the intruders and the demolished Platinum Pixie, the ring announcer confirms what the jeering crowd suspects.
“Your winner…by disqualification…Kylie Sanders!”
The ‘W’ is of little solace to the Corps or the comatose Kylie.
And Sanders’ defender is eliminated by a punt to the crotch from the taller of the interlopers. Nick collapses to his knocking knees then timbers to his side, hands buried between his legs.
With all of the other ring’s occupants on the canvas, the women tear off their scarlet hoodies, revealing a pair of Asian Invaders, Reiko Ohno and Seah Sin.
REIKO OHNO
SEAH SIN
The second generation of the Invasion throw their arms high and wide in celebration of their feat. In response, the FAWNatics drown them in decibels, the boos ear-splitting. But it’s clear neither Seah nor Reiko care. However, they do seem upset when a confused Zoe struggles to her feet.
“You trollops cost me this mUHHHH.”
The Emirati Assassin is interrupted by a toe kick to tanned tummy from Sin.
Ohno steps close, locking her arms with the Dubai Diva, spinning the breathless Zoe so the crown of her head is pushed between Scott’s shoulderblades. Reiko twists further so they change positions and the ninja puts an end to Zoe’s night with her Ohno She Did’n.
Oh No She Did’n ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=gqN-6J8MJWM )
With the Oil Baroness knocked cold, a grinning Reiko lounges next to the head of the twitching Scott.
Meanwhile, Seah rolls FAWN’s lead official out of the ring and moves to gather the organization original in black-n-gold. The Little Dragon scrapes Kylie off the deck as Ohno moves to the outside, peers under the skirt of the apron and emerges with a steel chair.
Reiko slides the folding furniture into the squared circle and follows behind. Once in, the Yokohama native peels Zoe off the deck and bum-rushes the brunette to the ropes, tossing the self-proclaimed best lightweight ever over the top, Zoe crashing and burning to the floor below.
With Seah having tugged the rubbery Kylie into a dragon sleeper position, the Korean threatens to put Sanders’ lights out right then and there. But with the barest urging from her partner, Sin lays out and CRACKS the back of Kylie’s skull into the steel with a reverse DDT into the seatpan of the chair.
Reverse DDT ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=iLqCYclGPt0 )
Silenced for a moment by the brutality against their girl, the angered Corps delivers their hate for the Invasion in growing volume.
Seah and Reiko rise and straddle Kylie’s carcass with wide grins. Ohno calls for a microphone and snatches it when tossed to her.
“It’s time to show all of you losers our strength and determination has been replenished. We have broken your figurehead.”
Seah stuffs a boot sole atop Kylie’s chest and chuckles at the elfin features of the dozing Pixie.
“And to follow, there is one last war left between the weak, splintered gaijin of this roster and the Invasion. We will finish the final battle victors, with all your pathetic soldiers at our feet, just like this pitiful Girl Scout of the past. First. We will end her for good. Then we will come for the rest.”
Reiko drops the stick atop the softly gulping midriff of the Platinum Pixie and together the Invaders make their exit, leaving quite a statement in their wake.
Though tonight’s foe is more a guest star in Orlando the last few years, the Emirati Assassin always poses a difficult test to pass. Elfin features pinched in stern concentration, the worry in Sanders’ face seems to clear when the Platinum Pixie hears her own version of Old Glory emanate from the bowl.
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. With a final fantastic run a possibility for the organization original, at least in the hearts of her Corps, Sanders seems 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 from the swarm.
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’ that overwhelm her accompaniment.
( 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 to be worth more than gold and a large placard making clear “We’ll always love our Corps commander”.
Reaching the ring and climbing the steps, Ky takes a moment to gaze around the arena at the massive 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.
“Are you ready to march with me to victory?”
The crowd responds with an energetic “YES’ chant.
“Well, if you’re all with me, there’s no way I can lose.”
The ovation seems to choke up the Hawkeye.
Sanders hands her stick to the ring announcer and retreats to her assigned corner where she allows lead referee Nick Castle to begin his cursory check as her introduction commences.
“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 as 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.
With the crowd stirring in anticipation, they erupt in surprise and alarm 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 the self-proclaimed Best Thing to Ever Happen to FAWN, though she’s happened less and less in Orlando, her time mostly spent headlining a Saudi-funded European offshoot. The hands of the former Lightweight champion spread to the sides.
All of the Lights youtu.be/HAfFfqiYLp0?t=65
ZOE SCOTT
‘Popping’ her flashbulb sigil, the Ultimate Diva swaggers toward the ring as every light in the building strobes.
Delighting in the stunned faces, the dazzling brunette beauty wears her customary grey Calvin Klein-style sports bra and briefs, monogrammed with her own name instead of the famous designer, her pads glittering gold.
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 a ready-made assistant not available on this side of the Atlantic, Zoe selects a nearby ring technician and clicks her fingers.
“Take these,” she snaps. “And be sure I receive them in the same condition or you will find yourself without employment.”
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.
“And her opponent, who will bring the lightweight division back to the forefront of FAWN. The long dark night soon to be 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, the jeering crowd making sure Zoe knows she lost to Lisa Dream the last time she planned her triumphant return.
Without ever acknowledging the Pleasant Valley Princess, the Pixie mere steps away, the Dubai Diva lifts the stick to her lips.
“Your eyes do not deceive. I have allowed you to become the luckiest crowd in FAWN’s long history once more. Despite that awful Dream delaying the inevitable, tonight I will break all your hearts and reclaim the division I made important. First, I will destroy this sad shell of a failure then sandblast that sorry brat, making my division and ultimately FAWN relevant again.”
Apparently done, Zoe walks toward her corner, microphone still in hand. Peeking over a shoulder, the Emirati realizes Kylie’s attention has been diverted, waving to a devoted daughter of the Corps.
Spinning on a dime, she races to the Platinum Pixie and THUMPS Sanders in the back of the skull with the microphone, a loud THUNK conveying the brutal connection.
With the attack before the bell, Castle can’t disqualify the vile Zoe and, when Scott tosses the stick out of the ring and demands the bell, Nick can do little but follow FAWN’s liberal rubrics regarding starting matches.
As the outraged crowd, lets Scott and Castle know what they think about the opening tableau, the tolling starts the match with Kylie semi-conscious at Zoe’s feet.
“Back to being a punching bag for the best,” Zoe chuckles, sinking a set of manicured nails into the scalp of the FAWN original.
Scott rips Ky to her feet and gives the bleary-eyed Pixie a wicked bytch slap that spins the blonde’s head like it’s on a swivel. When Sanders’ noggin returns from the trip, a dazed look on the blonde’s face, the Dubai Diva stuffs Kylie’s head under an arm, securing a front facelock, then tosses a limp arm of the Hawkeye over a shoulder.
Grabbing a handful of spandex on Sanders’ hip, the Best Thing That Ever Happened launches Kylie into a vertical suplex position, stalling Sanders out with the Hawkeye’s boot soles pointed to the rafters. There the brunette shows her power superiority, keeping Ky overturned and elevated, the blood rushing to the Iowan’s head until Zoe allows Kylie to tumble over and CRASH to the canvas.
Vertical Suplex ( www.youtube.com/shorts/enk_0Twr158 )
Ky bounces off the deck to a seated position, face pinched in pain, grasping at the base of her spine with a palm.
The Emirati Assassin kips to her feet to jeers from Kylie’s Corps. She dramatically dusts off a shoulder, them the opposite number, showing the fans the best lightweight ever is out of Sanders’ league.
Grabbing a wrist and shoulder, Scott hauls an already reeling Kylie to her feet and Irish Whips her foe to the far ropes. With Zoe settling in a crouch as she positions her mid-ring for the Platinum Pixie’s return, the assembled understand the Oil Baroness isn’t interested in making this a long night’s work.
As Kylie closes the gap between them, Zoe springs out of her crouch and nearly decapitates Ky with a rising palm strike to the jaw, Scott rightly monikered the Showstopper.
Showstopper ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=f-JtQQsO2CI )
The Pixie’s head snaps back in violent, whiplash fashion, her ivory-skinned frame following suit until she lies in a motionless spreadeagle beneath a beaming Dubai Diva.
Crowd silenced, they watch in their own stupor as Scott drops her body across the flattened Sanders in a lateral press, hooking the far leg for good measure for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Ky resuscitates, spasming enough to lift a shoulder off the deck and keep her match hopes alive against the loathsome Zoe.
Scott shakes her head in disdain.
“Know your place, farm girl. My division is for the glitterati, not for some over-the-hill, Midwestern clodhopper.”
Zoe wraps both hands around blonde’s braincase and pulls Kylie up with her as she rises. A dipping Scott draws a wobbling Ky close, embracing the Pixie. The glamorous Emirati cinches her arms around Sanders, drawing a breathy grasp as Scott closes the bearhug tight on her adversary.
Zoe lifts the smaller woman off the canvas, Ky weakly prying at Scott’s arms without success, when the Emirati Assassin genuflects and sends Kylie’s crotch CRASHING down on the plank of the brunette’s upper right leg. Privates punished, Ky hops into the air, knees knocking by the time she comes down, elfin features twisted in pain.
Frozen in front of a rising Diva, Kylie can manage nothing in the way of defense when Zoe sinks a set of ruby-tipped nails into Sanders’ platinum, pixie-cut hair and sits out. The wide-eyed face of the veteran THUMPS into the thinly-sheathed floorboards, bouncing off the deck, the sit-out facebuster rocking the floundering Hawkeye.
Sit-out facebuster ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=tomRsejZZCY ) :27
Kylie remains face down, offering little more than a twitch or two, Zoe continuing to rampage over FAWN’s elder stateswoman.
Scott sneeringly rolls Ky to her back, Sanders remaining within the outstretched legs of her foe. The Best Thing The Ever Happened to FAWN reaches forward and collects Kylie’s abbreviated, alabaster lower limbs, then folds the Pixie’s legs atop Kylie’s chest in a matchbook for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
The body of the Pleasant Valley Princess springs open, both shoulders off the mat with a split-second to spare. Ky flops to her side, still alive, her never-say-die attitude shining through. But having to apply it this early must be shocking and disheartening to her Corps.
Zoe snatches Kylie’s silvery locks, pulls her foe’s head up and NAILS her foe on the crown of her cranium with the pointed elbow of the opposite arm, over and over, a half-dozen connecting before the Oil Baroness tosses Ky’s limp form aside and pushes to her feet.
The brunette bows to the frustrated fans, angered by her domination of their beloved Pixie.
Scott drops to her side and rolls under the bottom rope, the soles of her custom tennies touching the arena floor.
Again, using Kylie’s hair as a handle, Zoe drags Sanders toward the nearest ring post from outside. She draws her foe’s spine to the steel, bending the vertebrae around the unforgiving post, trying to break Kylie’s back while Castle calls for the Emirati Assassin to halt her vile attack.
Ring post attack ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=N39-kRet_OA ) 1:30
With one grip in the Hawkeye’s hair and the other around an ankle, Zoe makes a torturous bow out of the wailing Sanders, Kylie pleading for a break and Castle demanding one. But not until Nick starts a count and makes it to ‘FOUR’ does Zoe end her cruelty, Scott releasing and kicking Ky back toward the middle.
Having rolled several feet from the corner, the Pixie ends on her back, an arm twisted behind and underneath, the Iowan looking broken by the Dubai Diva.
Zoe slides under the bottom rope and climbs to the top buckle, high above her splattered foil. From her penthouse perch, Zoe dives toward her target with a leaping somersault senton.
But instead of CRASHING across the open ivory tummy of the Pixie, Zoe finds nothing but unforgiving mat, the ring rattling when Kylie rolls out of reach of the aerial assault.
For long seconds, a spent Sanders and a stymied Scott stare into the rafters. And it’s the blonde bulldog moving to vertical first. But Zoe isn’t far behind, reaching her stance a second behind Ky.
The extra tick is all the Hawkeye needs to drive a toe kick deep into the Diva’s tanned abdomen, doubling her foe. Ky follows up quickly, blasting the lowered head of the brunette back with frightening force courtesy a nasty European Uppercut under the chin. Scott throws her arms over the ropes on either side of a corner as she tumbles in tight to the crease.
Kylie scoops her arms beneath the Ultimate Diva’s thighs and boosts Zoe to a seat on the top buckle. Sanders crosses the arms of the stunned Scott as she turns away from the self-proclaimed Best Lightweight Ever. Leaning forward with her grips still in place, the wily veteran RIPS Zoe off her elevated stool, sending the Baroness clattering to the canvas with an Iconoclasm.
Iconoclasm ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=GlDWO254zdQ )
Sanders butt-scoots her way to an awkward pin attempt, the Dubai Diva down for…
ONE…
…and that’s all as Zoe shoves the Platinum Pixie off and rolls out of the ring.
Landing on her feet, she backpedals to the steel barricade behind her to gather some breathing room. But Sanders isn’t interested in her adversary getting valuable downtime. Ky slides out around a corner, out of the Ultimate Diva’s line of sight, and comes barreling around, NAILING Zoe with a spear that would make any Hawkeye footballer proud.
Sanders nearly splits Scott in half with the tackle, the Emirati Assassin’s body folding around the delving shoulder of the blonde before Zoe is POUNDED into the thinly-padded concrete.
A kneeling Sanders pumps a fist to the roaring crowd. She hauls a moaning, gutted Zoe up with her and leans the dark-haired grappler against the steel divider, Zoe’s pained features pointed toward the delighted mob. Behind her foe, Ky dips her head between Scott’s sinewy stems and lifts the startled Scott to an electric chair seat atop Kylie’s shoulders.
Zoe tries to send the Pixie backflipping to a piledriving spike hurricarana by throwing her body weight backward, but Sanders uses the barricade to hold onto vertical and keep her balance, Scott draped down her back.
With Kylie’s arms wrapping around her foe’s shins, Sanders uses her underappreciated strength to buggywhip Zoe’s body forward into a variation of her Iowa Waterwheel slam, Ky sitting out while the Oil Baroness slams face and chest-fist into the thinly-sheathed cement of the arena floor.
Iowa Waterwheel ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=SevF_nbT4Lo ) 1:00
The crowd can’t help but reflexively groan in sympathy for a moment, but then, realizing who’s received the brunt of the attack, roars back to life, the ovation enormous when Kylie springs to her feet and celebrates with her adoring Corps.
With Castle’s count growing, Kylie scoops Scott off the floor and stuffs her lightweight rival back into the ring.
The Platinum Pixie climbs to the apron and steps a leg through the rubber-coated steel strands when two women in red hoodies and similarly hued spandex boy-cut trunks hop the juncture of two barricades at the corner of the ring area.
Reaching Ky’s remaining planted boot simultaneously, each grabs the ankle and yanks toward them, upending Sanders, Kylie’s wickets split on the middle rope.
The cloaked women leap to ringside and begin pumping the middle cable up and down on either side of the straddling Sanders, Ky caught in a terrible predicament as the rope drives into her tenderized privates again and again. The Pixie’s hazel eyes grow watery, her jaw dropping wide.
Momentarily taken aback by the assault, Castle finally intervenes, calling for the bell. The tolling rings throughout the bowl as the duo end Sanders’ anguish-inducing ride, then shove the bow-legged blonde into the confines of the ring.
The women scrape a whimpering Ky off the canvas, collecting her in a double front facelock. They lay out in unison, SPIKING the skull of the Pleasant Valley Princess into the deck, the Hawkeye tumbling over in a somersault to an unconscious starfish.
As Nick places himself between the intruders and the demolished Platinum Pixie, the ring announcer confirms what the jeering crowd suspects.
“Your winner…by disqualification…Kylie Sanders!”
The ‘W’ is of little solace to the Corps or the comatose Kylie.
And Sanders’ defender is eliminated by a punt to the crotch from the taller of the interlopers. Nick collapses to his knocking knees then timbers to his side, hands buried between his legs.
With all of the other ring’s occupants on the canvas, the women tear off their scarlet hoodies, revealing a pair of Asian Invaders, Reiko Ohno and Seah Sin.
REIKO OHNO
SEAH SIN
The second generation of the Invasion throw their arms high and wide in celebration of their feat. In response, the FAWNatics drown them in decibels, the boos ear-splitting. But it’s clear neither Seah nor Reiko care. However, they do seem upset when a confused Zoe struggles to her feet.
“You trollops cost me this mUHHHH.”
The Emirati Assassin is interrupted by a toe kick to tanned tummy from Sin.
Ohno steps close, locking her arms with the Dubai Diva, spinning the breathless Zoe so the crown of her head is pushed between Scott’s shoulderblades. Reiko twists further so they change positions and the ninja puts an end to Zoe’s night with her Ohno She Did’n.
Oh No She Did’n ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=gqN-6J8MJWM )
With the Oil Baroness knocked cold, a grinning Reiko lounges next to the head of the twitching Scott.
Meanwhile, Seah rolls FAWN’s lead official out of the ring and moves to gather the organization original in black-n-gold. The Little Dragon scrapes Kylie off the deck as Ohno moves to the outside, peers under the skirt of the apron and emerges with a steel chair.
Reiko slides the folding furniture into the squared circle and follows behind. Once in, the Yokohama native peels Zoe off the deck and bum-rushes the brunette to the ropes, tossing the self-proclaimed best lightweight ever over the top, Zoe crashing and burning to the floor below.
With Seah having tugged the rubbery Kylie into a dragon sleeper position, the Korean threatens to put Sanders’ lights out right then and there. But with the barest urging from her partner, Sin lays out and CRACKS the back of Kylie’s skull into the steel with a reverse DDT into the seatpan of the chair.
Reverse DDT ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=iLqCYclGPt0 )
Silenced for a moment by the brutality against their girl, the angered Corps delivers their hate for the Invasion in growing volume.
Seah and Reiko rise and straddle Kylie’s carcass with wide grins. Ohno calls for a microphone and snatches it when tossed to her.
“It’s time to show all of you losers our strength and determination has been replenished. We have broken your figurehead.”
Seah stuffs a boot sole atop Kylie’s chest and chuckles at the elfin features of the dozing Pixie.
“And to follow, there is one last war left between the weak, splintered gaijin of this roster and the Invasion. We will finish the final battle victors, with all your pathetic soldiers at our feet, just like this pitiful Girl Scout of the past. First. We will end her for good. Then we will come for the rest.”
Reiko drops the stick atop the softly gulping midriff of the Platinum Pixie and together the Invaders make their exit, leaving quite a statement in their wake.