PILLOW TALK

In a designated interview section, FAWN’s top reporter Mel Sutton stands with mic in hand in front of the organization’s logo. Looking as pretty as a picture, the blonde byliner excitedly addresses the eager fans watching at home.



MEL SUTTON





“Hello, FAWNatics! Mel Sutton, here for an exclusive with one of FAWN’s and LAW’s most popular stars, Danica Dadal. The Polish Pitbull has contacted me to help with an announcement- oh, there she is now!”



Walking from off-screen to stand next to Mel is the Beautiful Berzerker herself. Coming off a hard-fought loss to Ariane Jones earlier tonight in a Restaurant War match, Danica showered off the filth of losing and the much more prevalent filth of the various foods and drinks she came into contact with. Danica only had one match for the night, so she’s not wearing ring gear, but she’s also not in her normal post-fight comfortable sweats. The Pitbull sporting tight leather pants and tucked white buttoned blouse that looks several sizes too small, the shirt nearly audibly straining to hold back the tide of Dadal’s juggs, her cleavage pushing through ovals between each button that indicated the fabric was moments from bursting.



DANICA DADAL





Danica gives the reporter a small smile as stands beside her with hands on hips, “Thanks for coming, Mel.”



Sutton blinks several times while bobbling her head slightly, she needs a couple of seconds to respond, so distracted is she by the Lightweight’s outfit. “Uh… yes! Thank you. Miss Dadal, you have an announcement for the FAWN universe?” She extends the microphone to be picked up by the wrestler’s voice.



Danica nods, the smile fading to a cold yet beautiful look of quiet aggression, “I do.” She steps forward to fill up more of the camera’s vision, making Sutton do so as well to keep the mic in the right place.



“I lost tonight. I did. But I gave Ariane Jones’ ass a kicking it won’t soon forget beforehand! Ariane, congratulations. You beat me. You made me tap. Put that in your jean shorts pocket with pride, because it’s never happening again.”



It takes Ariane being out of the building for Danica to show any sort of sportswomanship.



“That fight was a nailbiter, a real photo-finish. So I have the confidence to ask you, cowgirl, sheriff, or whatever western fantasy you’re playing out today, for a rematch. Wanna see if lightning can strike twice? And I want to put some jazz on this, we’re a bit beyond the regular rules at this point I think you’ll agree. I want a Smother match!”



The cameraman either by base attraction or job experience zooms in on Danica’s upper body till she fills the screen. “Only way to win is to smother your opponent into giving up or knocking them out. You gave me the idea…” Danica smirks sarcastically at Ariane’s chesty innovation to the finishing move of their match.



“Do you think your gurls can stand up to mine?! Cause I’m betting I’ll retire your milkers from the dairy farm! You think you can make me go to sleep so easily? Knock me out? Well, these knockers…” Danica arcs her shoulders back the slightest bit, and it results in an explosion! The buttons on the Berserker’s top hit their limit and burst free from the blouse like a hail of bullets, Mel Sutton jerks up startled at the sight sound of the buttons clattering on the floor and against the camera’s lens.

With a jiggle that will guarantee a million views before tomorrow night, Danica’s mammoth mammaries plump to their weight and size, barely decent by the now DEEP cleavage gap in her shirt, her nipples just hidden by the fabric only through the lack of wind



“Are going to smother you!"