Post by hawkeye on Dec 31, 2023 3:27:40 GMT
As FAWN reaches its grand finale of 2023, the crowd courses with anticipation at the thought of Kat Braddock NOT making it through the year with the World belt for the entire 365. One woman stands in her way.
And when Katy Perry’s California Gurls blasts from the arena’s speakers, the crowd rises as one to show their support for the Greater Good’s greatest goodest grappler ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=F57P9C4SAW4 )
With her eye-blink reign as World Champion having receded to an afterthought for most, the marks and casuals still erupt in a cascade of cheers, knowing their beloved auburn-haired favorite will be joining them from Seventh Heaven to claim the title a second time.
Having adopted the enduring Golden State Wrestling icon back into the FAWN fold, the Angel’s Choir lets their adoration flow freely when the redhead emerges and takes a jaunty stance on the upper stage, hands on hips, deferential to the ovation.
The veteran beams from ear to ear, garbed in her iconic tight spandex one-piece, halved in pink and sky blue with pink boots to mid-thigh and silver fingerless gloves.
COLLEEN O’NEAL
Though O’Neal didn’t blossom into a star until she left for the LA-based fed, she’s now a shining light in the organization originally chewing her up and spitting her out. Ready to push back her career twilight, the Angel’s ready to run further with her Orlando opportunity.
Holding her position on the stage, the FAWNatics roar a second time when they see the challenger won’t be coming to the ring without back-up.
The babyfaced Heaven Hughes marches next to her mentor, a shower of golden sparks behind her, the City of Angels’ very own cherub raising the volume to fever pitch. Having been saved from post-match peril by Colleen at AHE, the fans are over the moon Heaven has seemingly rejoined the Greater Good, perhaps on her way to full-fledged status with the group.
HEAVEN HUGHES
The sporty, sun-kissed blonde appears the perfect billboard for Cali. Much more wholesome and pleasing than the Quake from the same state, a beaming Hughes waves to the captivated masses. O’Neal’s corner cover is clad in a black and yellow, zippered Body Glove diving top; similarly-hued and branded boy-cut trunks; her tanned legs and feet bare.
The ginger Bay Area native motions for the Santa Monica Sweetheart to join her on her classic sprint to the ring. Together, the adored GSW imports dash to the squared circle. Both slide in under the bottom rope and pop to their feet, absorbing the ovation.
The ring announcer waits for the music to fade to break through the ovation.
“Tonight’s next match is scheduled for one fall with a 60-minute time limit and is for the FAWN World Championship! Standing 5’ 3” inches tall and weighing in at 114 pounds. From San Francisco, the auburn-haired artist, the Ginger Genius, the California Angel…Colleen O’Neal!”
With Heaven clapping for her mentor, Colleen bows to her reborn Choir, face flushing with excitement, the GSW icon ready to continue writing another glorious FAWN chapter at Seasons’ Beatings.
With the Cali imports in the ring and waiting, bouncing with nervous energy, a Richter scale rumble courses through the arena. The previous ovation changes to an earthquake-sized round of boos from the sellout throng, the masses knowing all too well what the tremor means.
The hatred rises to a crescendo when the speakers transition to Van Halen's ‘Beautiful Girls’. A barrage of pyrotechnics explodes from the rafters in time with the chords, the fiery white sparks illuminating the cavernous space in a momentarily blinding light.
Beautiful Girls (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bJ9h2m06sFQ )
After the flash, in the light show’s place, is the ill-mannered, ass-kicking blonde Brat center stage. Her usual shit-eating ‘I’m the biggest bytch in town’ grin has returned and next to the champ is her new worker bee. Bianca Simpson, FAWN’s long-time Jobber Extraordinaire, having made the biggest mark of her unnoteworthy career as Kat’s stooge, is back for another heaping helping of abuse.
Not that she’s at all competent as a combatant, Bianca is dressed for battle in her simple red one-piece battle attire, in case the boss needs some physical assistance.
BIANCA SIMPSON
The curvy Quake strides toward the battleground in her new booty-blasting blue gear, the two-piece accentuating her curves both bottom and topside, the outfit including knee-high athletic socks, her boots traded in for sporty Chuck Taylors.
KAT BRADDOCK:
Kat’s gear (
and ( 
).
The once-upon-a-time beach fighter strides confidently down the ramp and aisle. Hovering behind is Simpson, Kat leaving her flunky to chatter at the mob on her behalf.
As the duo reach ringside, Kat directs Bianca to the announcer’s table as he provides Braddock’s introduction.
“And her opponent. From Newport Beach, California. Standing five feet two inches tall and weighing in at 123 pounds. The World Champion. The Brat. KAT BRADDOCK!”
The arena echoes with enmity, the vocal and virulent distaste reaching new heights as Baddock continues to hold the big belt for month after month.
Bianca snatches the amplifier from the man’s hand and brings it to Braddock on the apron’s edge. She stretches the top and middle ropes wide for Kat to enter comfortably between.
Moving to the middle, barely acknowledging the challenger and her protégé, Braddock draws the stick to parted lips.
“Shut your mouths you heathens!”
The FAWNatics are not in the mood to oblige and force Braddock to shout over them.
“If you thought having my Lightweight Title stolen meant the World Title was going anywhere. Well, I guess I showed you the truth against that pier trash right over there!”
The champ points at Heaven without bothering to look in her direction. The FAWNatics are not amused.
“Santa Monica Barbie couldn’t hold a candle to me. And now she’s sending her grandma to get done what she couldn’t. I hope Medicare is still solvent with what I’m going to do to Little Red!”
Kat drops the microphone and moves to her corner, covered from any shenanigans by Simpson.
As Bianca and Heaven take their posts on the outside, below the corners of champ and challenger, the bell brings the World Title contest to order.
There’s not a hint of trepidation on either side, Braddock a champ at her peak and at an age she might stay on the summit for a very long time; O’Neal with the knowledge and technique of an old hand who’s seen everything.
Together they ram together, hands wide, fingers interlocking, chests pressing against the others as each works to take early control. Colleen swings her limbs inward, flexing her grips into an upturned and uncomfortable position for the World Champ. Kat winces and lifts herself to tiptoes to relieve some of the pressure.
“You ready to put in a long day’s work, kid?” the California Angel asks.
Colleen gives a little extra twist, upping the ante. The Brat hops in place, grimacing and trying to ignore the pain.
“Don’t believe you can make me think twice, Grams. F’n Bianca could beat you.”
“About that,” Colleen interrupts. “Consider how low on the food chain you had to go to find a flunky. Not exactly upper management, are you?” O’Neal asks.
“I’ve been the Worldy more than one f’n month, short-timer, so spare me the insults.”
Her fingers still linked with the redhead’s digits, the Cali Quake drops to her back, pulling in her abbreviated but powerful legs, then starts to piston them out to break free. Before the blonde can completely unfold her limbs, the Ginger Genius settles atop the champ, pelvis on raised backside. Having placed herself in a cradled ball to get loose, a captured Kat now squirms madly, trying to push off her shoulders as Castle drops to count…
ONE…
TWO…
Braddock kicks out, flopping to her side.
Having transferred both grips to Kat’s left wrist, O’Neal hauls the wide-eyed blonde up with her. She backs Braddock into the ropes and flings her to the far side with an Irish Whip. Or that was the plan. The crafty Kat plants and reverses the heave, and it’s the Golden State Wrestling icon racing across the ring.
The Brat settles center stage for Colleen’s return and, when Braddock plucks a returning O’Neal off the deck on her hip for a potential sidewalk slam, the auburn-haired, elder stateswoman uses her momentum to snap her freckled stems shut around the former beachfighter’s head and orbit around the startled blonde, sending Kat somersaulting across the deck with a headscissors takedown.
Headscissors Takedown ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=eGJvuVYMSyo ) :07
It’s not the most impactful landing and Braddock’s up only a tick after O’Neal reaches her feet. However, it proves an important second as the Angel takes wing, leaping into a dropkick to Kat’s fulsome chest.
Braddock flails as she backpedals, her spine THUMPING against the buckles. The flaxen-haired fighter remains upright over a fawning Bianca on the floor below, Simpson trying her best to make the champ aware there’s some nasty incoming.
Too late Kat’s hazel peepers pick up on the charging redhead, O’Neal leaping into a high knee that CRUNCHES into the lowered chin of the champ. Jaw jacked, Braddock’s eyes turn glassy, her body slack.
Colleen moves side by side, wrapping her right arm around the Quake’s braincase. Side headlock applied; O’Neal races out of the buckles with Kat in tow. Reaching the middle, the Angel takes flight once more, ivory legs outstretched as she sits out and delivers Kat’s forehead to the thinly sheathed floorboards with a nasty bulldog.
Braddock’s head bounces off the deck, Kat rising to her knees from the force before flopping to a shoulder and hip, in a daze. Heaven and the Angel’s Choir shout their support from the sidelines, expecting O’Neal to translate the collision into another attempted three-count, but the veteran passes.
As Kat lolls to her back, unsure of her bearings, the Ginger Genius rises and hops to the nearby middle rope. Grabbing the top and using the rubber-coated steel as a springboard, Colleen vaults away from the cables in a u-turn. With her pale legs extended, the blue-eyed beauty drops one lower limb toward Kat’s chest, the other toward her throat.
But Braddock’s got more of her senses than it seems and rolls clear. O’Neal spikes her tailbone into the mat with no crash pad beneath her. Her hands fly underneath her aching rump, massaging her bruised backside as Kat pushes to her feet, pointing at a temple, demonstrating who the intelligent one is.
“Who’s the f’n genius?” The Brat screams.
“YOU…ARE!” Bianca responds on cue. Simpson turns and tries to get a rhythmic clap going for her boss, but the crowd responds with a torrent of cheers instead.
Bianca spins back to Kat, shrugging.
“Do what I taught you, dummy,” Braddock demands.
A light seems to go off in Bianca’s oft times unoccupied gray matter. She twirls and offers the FAWNatics a double middle finger, Simpson thoroughly enjoying showing off her new attitude at the expense of the morons who had a tendency to cheer every one of her many losses.
Kat shakes her head and places her full attention back on Colleen, the redhead having moved from her tush onto one knee, giving her derriere a final rub. The Brat snatches O’Neal around the noggin, one palm on either side, and tugs Colleen up the rest of the way.
The curvy blonde pivots and wrecks the redhead with a wicked backhand chop that echoes through the arena, the fans unable to contain a loud ‘WOOOO’.
Rocked, the Angel’s face is etched in pain, her decolletage turning rosy in its own right, when Kat loads up another blistering knife-edge and THWAPS the Golden State import’s clavicle a second time, THEN A THIRD, the triple play finally knocking O’Neal off her feet.
Kat stares down at the splayed veteran, shaking her head in disdain.
“You should have taken the first ass whippin’ I gave you as a hint. I’m completely out of your league.”
Braddock takes to the air above O’Neal, the point of her right elbow poised for a shot to O’Neal’s sternum, but it’s the champ’s turn to come up empty. Colleen evacuates in time and Braddock drives her joint into the canvas. The blonde flops like a fish out of water, cradling her throbbing right wing close.
The early pace has both combatants slow to rise. With Heaven and Bianca doing their best to inspire their partner to verticality first, it’s even as champ and challenger reach their boot soles.
The women charge each other, sharing the same thought, both nearly removing head from shoulders with simultaneous clotheslines leaving both wrestlers starfished, staring blankly to the rafters, their seconds desperately trying to get the Angel and the Brat up yet again.
Lethargically, the redhead rolls to her chest in Kat’s direction and dumps a limp left arm across the shiny blue spandex stretched tightly across Braddock’s softly rolling bosom.
It’s not much of a pin, but Nick knows it’s good enough.
He collapses to the canvas and slaps the mat for…
ONE…
TWO…
The sellout throng groans in disappointment as Braddock throws a shoulder up, keeping her more than year-long reign intact for at least another three seconds.
It’s the former World Champ who seems in better shape than the current. Colleen slowly pushes to her feet and takes in several deep breaths while Kat makes her way to a seated position, looking drained. The redhead wraps her hands around the head of her opponent and draws Braddock vertically. Instantly, the Cali Quake shoves O’Neal off and surges toward her with a right arm drawn wide for a follow-up clothesline.
Colleen dips under the effort and when the blonde spins to find her foe, she’s met with a digging toe kick to the tummy. Frozen, bug-eyed and gasping, Kat can manage no defense when the Ginger Genius turns away and reaches over her right shoulder to surround The Brat’s noggin with a ¾ facelock grip. The freckled fighter drops to one knee and snapmares Braddock over a shoulder, planting Kat’s tailbone to the canvas, Braddock wincing from the impact of ass to canvas.
A risen O’Neal THUMPS a soccer kick to the champ’s lower vertebrae. Kat’s chest thrusts forward, her body twisting into an arch from the impact of the boot to her spinal column.
The elder stateswoman of FAWN shows she’s still got a motor, racing past the wincing Brat, hitting the cables in front of her foe, and returning with a low-rise meteora. Colleen’s knees CRASH into Braddock’s chest, flattening her adversary.
The auburn-haired grappler ends in a schoolgirl pin of the dazed titleholder, Kat’s chin tucked neatly into the crotch of the California Angel. Colleen scoops her arms behind her to wrap around the raised stems of The Brat. The challenger leans forward with the legs in tow, cradling the blasted blonde.
The FAWNatics roar in anticipation for the overdue ending of Braddock’s time at the top of the mountain and the Angel’s second time at the summit with the…
ONE…
TWO…
A squirming Braddock fights her way free with a second to spare, ending on her side, huffing. The energized O’Neal doesn’t dally, popping to a handstand next to her grounded foe. She turns in a 180 so her overturned frame is pointed inward to the blonde, then tucks as she drops, turning auburn-maned cannonball, her kneecaps POUNDING into the open left ribcage of Braddock.
Kat groans in pain, rolling away from the collision, curvy body collapsing around the impact point. The champ tries to rise but the damage to her side slows the process. She’s halfway to her feet when the Ginger Genius swoops in from behind, snugly cinching in a waistlock. O’Neal tightens her embrace, forcing the air from Kat’s lungs as she lifts the champ off her feet for a split-second before placing her back down on the mat.
Colleen grinds her grip tighter still, the bearhug from behind drawing mewls and raspy breaths in equal measure. Kat swings an elbow, trying to connect with the ginger’s jaw. But the crafty vet dodges the countermeasure and bears down, slowly wearing The Brat into a more malleable state.
After riding her adversary for a dozen seconds, O’Neal dips slightly and hauls Braddock into the air in front of her. The challenger falls forward, using Braddock as her padding. A loud grunt is forced from deep in the Quake’s diaphragm as Kat’s pancaked into the deck, Colleen SPLASHING atop the woman standing, or more aptly lying, between her and a rare second World Title reign.
The redhead rolls Kat to her back beneath her, remaining upon Braddock in a full body pin, fastening The Brat’s arms to the canvas beside her ears, O’Neal’s palms atop Kat’s wrists for Castle’s count of…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
The pearly gates of the World Championship are closed to the California Angel, the sellout throng groaning in disappointment when the tenacious Quake again refuses to allow a challenger to take her most precious title, Braddock pushing a shoulder up.
Kat surprises the assembled when she barrel-rolls 180 degrees, ending above the wriggling O’Neal. A startled Nick gets ONE slap to the mat for the champ before O’Neal repeats the process and it’s Colleen on top for ONE, then Kat, then Colleen. The entwined pair make their way to the apron’s edge and, so focused on one another are the grapplers, they revolve right under the bottom rope and tumble to the arena floor locked in their appealing wheel.
Necks crane in the audience as the crowd tries to find the fierce foes at ringside.
Likewise, their flaxen-haired seconds, around a corner from being within sight, hustle toward the continued conflagration.
A bruised Heaven, still smarting from her earlier loss to Sylvia, and the human tackling dummy, Bianca, find Colleen and Kat entwined as they struggle to rise.
Not waiting to see who emerges with the advantage, Bianca races to join in and Heaven isn’t about to let her mentor face a two-on-one.
As Dawson is about to peel O’Neal off her boss, Hughes tackles her fellow blonde to the floor next to the official combatants and the fight becomes a pair of pairs whose flailing arms and loud threats cause confusion and consternation with FAWN’s lead official.
From within the ring, Castle calls out to a set of burly FAWN attendants to escort Heaven and Bianca from ringside.
While he might have to put up with shenanigans from the contracted wrestlers, he’s not being paid to officiate a scrap between women who could scarcely be called managers.
The men separate Hughes and Dawson and guide them up the ramp, each occasionally trying to break free to attack the other, unsuccessfully. Finally, Heaven and Bianca disappear behind the curtains to continue any disagreement away from prying eyes.
Meanwhile, reaching their feet and breaking apart a stride, the rightful blonde and redhead toss balled right hands, each woman rocking the other in turn, heads snapping to the side from impacts, sweat flying as locks are fanned, the crowd alternating between ‘YAY” and ‘BOO’ with each connection.
Finally, the challenger blocks a blow and doubles up, then blocks and triples, and a startled Kat is backpedaling. The feisty GSW legend has The Brat’s head whiplashing from sparking jabs to the chin, the crowd celebrating each in succession.
With Kat left wobbling in front of her, eyes glassy, a beaming Ginger Genius smooches her fist, then raises it, and pivots for the KO blow when a desperate Braddock reaches into her bag of unsavory tricks and punts O’Neal in the privates.
Splitting the ivory-skinned, freckled wickets of the Angel, the ruthless Brat stands, hands on knees, drawing in deep breaths, using Colleen’s frozen state to recover. Glancing up at the teary-eyed baby blues and quivering lower lip of Golden State Wrestling’s living legend, a long-lost look of confidence returns.
Grabbing O’Neal by her right shoulder and elbow, Kat sweeps a knock-kneed Colleen past, the veteran flung headlong into the steel ring steps, shoulder, ribs and hips CLANGING into the metal, jarring the structure off its base and leaving Colleen puddled in the wake of the collision.
The former beachy catfighter turned top wrestler in the world, at least according to her title qualifications, hovers over the gobsmacked redhead.
“I get it. You’re a tough, old bytch. But you need more than that to beat the best.”
Braddock peels the moaning Angel from the remnants of the steps. She leans the sagging redhead’s back against the apron’s edge and NAILS her with an echoing backhand chop to the chest. Colleen’s features are etched in anguish from the stinging impact and surely from the remainder of the throbbing ache from her undercarriage.
A delighted Kat gives her hand a big, lollypop lick then delivers another vicious knife-edge to the glowing pink clavicle of her challenger.
The Brat turns to the crowd.
“When are you people ever going to understand? There’s no one better than me!”
The FAWNatics make their opposite opinion known, though all evidence in 2023 is to the contrary, except perhaps what The Brat would describe as Crystal Hilton’s stoke of unmitigated good luck.
The blonde bully shoves a reeling O’Neal onto the apron and rolls her back in the ring, a lenient Castle ending his count before disqualifying both competitors. Kat slides in after her prey, pushing to her feet as a debilitated Ginger Genius makes it to a seated position in the middle of the ring.
The surly Kat snatches O’Neal’s auburn mane with her right hand while standing astride the rickety redhead. Braddock flexes her pelvis forward, then swings her pear-shaped backside into the skull of the California Angel, delivering potentially concussive ‘hip attacks’ to Colleen’s scrambled gray matter with her Bratty Butt Bumpers.
Bratty Butt Bumpers ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZMaqsJS_9eg )
O’Neal’s body flops to hip and shoulder when The Brat releases her grip after three booty blasts, Colleen’s baby blues glassy, the GSW icon showing little sense of awareness after the battering bump and grind.
Passing on an opportunity to pin the challenger, Kat peels the reeling redhead off the canvas and bullies her to the nearest corner. There, she drapes O’Neal’s arms over the top rope on either side of the buckles. The blonde grabs the wrists and yanks the limbs under the top strand.
Handlebars in her clutches, the cruel champion raises a boot and thrusts into the tender kitty of Colleen. Pressing the shoe leather roughly into her foe’s crotch, Kat grinds as she jerks on the wings of the flagging O’Neal, Braddock going full catty with her signature Brat Attack.
“REF,” O’Neal squeals. “ROPES!”
Castle tardily starts his count, Kat wreaking havoc for the full four seconds before releasing and strolling away, hands raised in mock innocence.
Seeing the anguish-addled O’Neal still in the corner when she returns her attention to the challenger, Braddock glances at Castle.
“You wanted me out. I’m out. Get her out.”
Nick sympathetically motions Colleen to remove herself from the protection of the buckles.
The crotch-crushed California Angel grimaces as she waddles out, trying her best to regain her ability to relocate with waves of pain erupting from between her freckled stems.
Staying close to the ropes as she awkwardly circles, Colleen keeps her arms raised and advanced to ward off her opponent as Kat stalks the wounded challenger. O’Neal can only maintain space between herself and The Brat for so long until Kat throws herself into a collar and elbow.
In Colleen’s condition, it takes but a few seconds for the flaxen-haired fighter to wrest leverage and control, pivoting and DRIVING a raised knee deep into the gut of the Ginger Genius. O’Neal’s baby blues bug as she’s left gasping and groaning, bent at the waist from the intrusion.
The redhead tries to retreat, apparently unable to keep up with her younger counterpart. As she tries to break away, Kat rewards Colleen with a double axhandle blow between her shoulderblades, sending O’Neal down to one knee, genuflecting in front of an increasingly confident Kat.
The crowd boos relentlessly as Braddock palms the top of the Angel’s dome, then raises her opposite arm high to exhibit her dominance. The vertically-challenged but power-packed blonde cups Colleen’s ears and yanks her adversary to a stooped stance, then bullies O’Neal deep into a set of ropes, transferring her grip to the redhead’s left wrist and shoulder.
Heaving her adversary across the canvas with an Irish Whip, Braddock trails behind, setting center stage for O’Neal’s return. The auburn-haired grappler’s stride has a pronounced hitch from the below-the-belt abuse, but she springs out of the cables at a significant clip.
The Brat is served her meal, namely redheaded stepchild on a silver platter for the titleholder. The curvy blonde dips and scoops O’Neal under her thighs, lifts the veteran all too easily, then rotates and POUNDS Colleen into the deck with a brutal spinebuster.
Spinebuster ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=wV_Ij5XR7LM )
O’Neal’s left spreadeagled after the ring-rattling collision with the canvas. However, Kat chooses to pass on a pin. Instead, she rises from all fours and collects the ankles of the former Artemis, pulling the redhead several feet in front of the nearest corner, boots pointed at the buckles.
The smirking Braddock kicks Colleen’s legs wide, the FAWNatics already letting their displeasure be known as a wide smile emerges on The Brat’s features. The only person in the house unaware of the impending ‘Big One’ from the Quake is the blasted O’Neal, motionless in her starfish position.
The Cali Quake strides to the buckles and nimbly climbs to the top. Turning when she reaches the penthouse, Kat carefully rises from her crouch to stand high above the splayed challenger. With obvious delight. Braddock launches toward her target, arms at her sides, the warhead of her forehead leading the way for the ultimate explosion on Colleen’s kitty.
But the Ginger Genius is playing possum, at least to some degree. With Braddock mid-flight, she rises on her palms and scoots back the vital inches that take the juncture of her thighs out of The Brat’s range. Instead of THUMPING the crown of her skull into O’Neal’s tenderized womanhood, it crashes into empty canvas and floorboards.
The crowd can’t help but reflexively groan in sympathy, even with their hatred of the World Champion, such is the sight of the brainbusting connection of skull to mat. The shellshocked blonde absently flops to her back, exchanging with Colleen the wide ‘X’ frame of her splattered body.
The FAWNatics, bubbling with excitement over the champ’s suddenly decrepit state, shout at the still debilitated O’Neal to somehow take advantage. The redhead rolls to all fours and crawls to her dazed adversary, dropping her sweat-soaked body across Kat’s chest in a perpendicular press of the devastated blonde.
Castle baseball slides to the canvas next to the women, ready for an historic count of…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOO!
Whether out of involuntary muscle memory or not, Braddock spasms a shoulder off the canvas to the disbelief of every single member of the Angel’s Choir. Colleen looks up from her press, now against the side of the blonde, and her hopeful baby blues change to show abject disappointment at two raised digits.
O’Neal runs both sets of fingers through her tousled auburn locks, incredulous Kat successfully used another of her nine lives.
Colleen physically shakes the disbelief out of her system with a head rattle and gets back to work, peeling Braddock off the canvas as she rises. O’Neal tosses Kat to the nearby buckles, the blonde hurtling into a heavy back-first collision with the buckles.
The Angel leaps in after her foe, splashing Kat in the corner, Braddock perilously close to comatose after the impact.
The rejuvenized redhead scoops the champ under her thighs and lifts Kat to a seat on the top buckle. She turns toward the center of the ring and loops her arms around those glistening upper legs, then pulls the wobbly blonde onto her shoulders in an electric chair position.
The crowd cheers as the Ginger Genius walks a slumped Braddock to the middle of the ring and delivers a Cali Redwood, Colleen laying out and THUMPING Kat’s spine and the back of her skull into the canvas with the Drop.
Cali Redwood ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=aQUTT3BIks8 ) :18
O’Neal, still in control of her adversary’s legs, rises to a bridge, jackknifing Braddock into a cradled pin for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOO!
Kat kicks out again, thrusting her pelvis forward and breaking Colleen’s bridge, O’Neal ending on her backside in a state of increasing aggravation, unable to finish The Brat off.
The veteran sweeps damp, matted auburn locks off her face and rises, stepping a few feet from her foe. She motions the softly stirring Braddock to rise for one grand finale and slowly the spent champion, on her last legs, does just that.
The Golden State icon surges to the champ, wrapping her left arm around Kat’s neck while grabbing her foe’s near arm as they stand astride, pointed in opposite directions. In Braddock’s fragile state, O’Neal easily RIPS Kat off her feet with a perfect Ginger Snap (Reverse STO) that POUNDS Braddock’s braincase into the mat, then sweeps her legs up to scissor the head of the faltering Cali Quake in her fateful Golden Gate submission.
Ginger Snap into Golden Gate ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=1KL26GPDVmg )
The Gate isn’t fully closed however as the Ginger Genius can’t reach back and grab her raised leg as a handle to increase the pressure before Braddock starts to rise zombie-like from her match grave. Kat reaches her feet. And although all Braddock can do is stagger to and fall into the ropes, not fully countering O’Neal’s effort, it’s enough for Castle to force Colleen to break her Gate, Braddock apparently using up all nine lives in one match.
To her credit, the auburn-maned veteran, who’s made Chapter Two in her FAWN career a memorable one, gives up her scissors immediately, but only so she can lift and run a ragdolled Kat to a corner, CRASHING the blonde’s forehead into the top buckle.
With one more arrow in her quiver, Colleen slips behind The Brat and climbs to the top buckle, her hands buried in Braddock’s lush golden mane, ready to extinguish Kat for good with her California Dreamin’ finisher.
California Dreamin’ ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=9SqoXOORyrQ ) :51
But as Colleen somersaults off her perch to concussively BANG Kat’s pate off the deck, Braddock reflexively tightens her arm wraps around the top ropes and remains lodged in the corner, though with fewer flaxen locks.
Meanwhile, O’Neal CRASHES to the canvas, off-balance without her guest, and BATTERS her vertebrae into the mat. After Colleen slides to a stop, both women remain motionless save their labored breathing, the crowd rewarding them with a ‘THIS IS AWESOME’ chant.
Finally, Kat exhaustedly pushes away from the buckles and plucks a drained Angel off the mat. Braddock heaves the redhead to the corner, O’Neal hitting with enough force to send her flopping to the canvas, Colleen landing on her taut ivory cheeks, freckled legs extended in front of her.
The sweat-soaked Brat staggers to the buckles farthest from the seated Angel and charges across the squared circle surprisingly quickly, Braddock dipping into her deep reserves. Kat SLAMS into a cross body splash of the reclining redhead with a force that draws an ‘OOOH’ from a crowd also close to exhaustion.
Cali Sandwich ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=zQbKiIEluic )
Rising from a melted Colleen, Braddock grabs the ankles of the splayed O’Neal and wearily drags her to the middle, then drops across her foe in a lateral press for an incredibly well-earned defense with the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Colleen shows her quality, shoving a shoulder up and rolling to her side beneath Braddock, Kat nearly in tears not being able to finish the job after being beaten around the ring.
But Braddock won’t be denied. She slowly hauls the California Angel up as she ascends, capturing Colleen in a front facelock and throwing a limp arm of the redhead over her shoulder. Grabbing a handful of spandex on O’Neal’s hip, she crouches and draws a deep breath. Would she have enough left?
The answer is a resounding ‘yes’ when The Brat vaults her fellow lightweight into cradled clutches against her chest and lays out SPIKING the crown of Colleen’s cranium into the canvas with her lethal Kat Nap.
Kat Nap ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=1nNeUWdGDSo )
The FAWNatics groan in unison with the violent impact. They’re silenced when a consumed Kat flops across Colleen’s carcass for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREEEE!
Castle calls for the bell and the announcer places the bow on this late Christmas present for the ages.
“Your winner and STILL FAWN World Champion…KAT BRADDOCK!”
The reaction of the audience is mixed, some looking past their hatred of The Brat to give Kat and Colleen their due.
Braddock rolls to a back press of her flattened foe and extends a hand to the lead official, Nick grabbing and tugging a fully depleted Kat to her feet.
As Nick moves to the ropes to retrieve Braddock’s belt, Kat places a boot on the gulping tummy of the lifeless O’Neal. Out of respect or exhaustion, Braddock does no further celebrating of her defense save for lifting her hardware high when Castle delivers it to her.
After this ferocious fight, the win is more than enough.
And when Katy Perry’s California Gurls blasts from the arena’s speakers, the crowd rises as one to show their support for the Greater Good’s greatest goodest grappler ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=F57P9C4SAW4 )
With her eye-blink reign as World Champion having receded to an afterthought for most, the marks and casuals still erupt in a cascade of cheers, knowing their beloved auburn-haired favorite will be joining them from Seventh Heaven to claim the title a second time.
Having adopted the enduring Golden State Wrestling icon back into the FAWN fold, the Angel’s Choir lets their adoration flow freely when the redhead emerges and takes a jaunty stance on the upper stage, hands on hips, deferential to the ovation.
The veteran beams from ear to ear, garbed in her iconic tight spandex one-piece, halved in pink and sky blue with pink boots to mid-thigh and silver fingerless gloves.
COLLEEN O’NEAL
Though O’Neal didn’t blossom into a star until she left for the LA-based fed, she’s now a shining light in the organization originally chewing her up and spitting her out. Ready to push back her career twilight, the Angel’s ready to run further with her Orlando opportunity.
Holding her position on the stage, the FAWNatics roar a second time when they see the challenger won’t be coming to the ring without back-up.
The babyfaced Heaven Hughes marches next to her mentor, a shower of golden sparks behind her, the City of Angels’ very own cherub raising the volume to fever pitch. Having been saved from post-match peril by Colleen at AHE, the fans are over the moon Heaven has seemingly rejoined the Greater Good, perhaps on her way to full-fledged status with the group.
HEAVEN HUGHES
The sporty, sun-kissed blonde appears the perfect billboard for Cali. Much more wholesome and pleasing than the Quake from the same state, a beaming Hughes waves to the captivated masses. O’Neal’s corner cover is clad in a black and yellow, zippered Body Glove diving top; similarly-hued and branded boy-cut trunks; her tanned legs and feet bare.
The ginger Bay Area native motions for the Santa Monica Sweetheart to join her on her classic sprint to the ring. Together, the adored GSW imports dash to the squared circle. Both slide in under the bottom rope and pop to their feet, absorbing the ovation.
The ring announcer waits for the music to fade to break through the ovation.
“Tonight’s next match is scheduled for one fall with a 60-minute time limit and is for the FAWN World Championship! Standing 5’ 3” inches tall and weighing in at 114 pounds. From San Francisco, the auburn-haired artist, the Ginger Genius, the California Angel…Colleen O’Neal!”
With Heaven clapping for her mentor, Colleen bows to her reborn Choir, face flushing with excitement, the GSW icon ready to continue writing another glorious FAWN chapter at Seasons’ Beatings.
With the Cali imports in the ring and waiting, bouncing with nervous energy, a Richter scale rumble courses through the arena. The previous ovation changes to an earthquake-sized round of boos from the sellout throng, the masses knowing all too well what the tremor means.
The hatred rises to a crescendo when the speakers transition to Van Halen's ‘Beautiful Girls’. A barrage of pyrotechnics explodes from the rafters in time with the chords, the fiery white sparks illuminating the cavernous space in a momentarily blinding light.
Beautiful Girls (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bJ9h2m06sFQ )
After the flash, in the light show’s place, is the ill-mannered, ass-kicking blonde Brat center stage. Her usual shit-eating ‘I’m the biggest bytch in town’ grin has returned and next to the champ is her new worker bee. Bianca Simpson, FAWN’s long-time Jobber Extraordinaire, having made the biggest mark of her unnoteworthy career as Kat’s stooge, is back for another heaping helping of abuse.
Not that she’s at all competent as a combatant, Bianca is dressed for battle in her simple red one-piece battle attire, in case the boss needs some physical assistance.
BIANCA SIMPSON
The curvy Quake strides toward the battleground in her new booty-blasting blue gear, the two-piece accentuating her curves both bottom and topside, the outfit including knee-high athletic socks, her boots traded in for sporty Chuck Taylors.
KAT BRADDOCK:
Kat’s gear (
and ( ).The once-upon-a-time beach fighter strides confidently down the ramp and aisle. Hovering behind is Simpson, Kat leaving her flunky to chatter at the mob on her behalf.
As the duo reach ringside, Kat directs Bianca to the announcer’s table as he provides Braddock’s introduction.
“And her opponent. From Newport Beach, California. Standing five feet two inches tall and weighing in at 123 pounds. The World Champion. The Brat. KAT BRADDOCK!”
The arena echoes with enmity, the vocal and virulent distaste reaching new heights as Baddock continues to hold the big belt for month after month.
Bianca snatches the amplifier from the man’s hand and brings it to Braddock on the apron’s edge. She stretches the top and middle ropes wide for Kat to enter comfortably between.
Moving to the middle, barely acknowledging the challenger and her protégé, Braddock draws the stick to parted lips.
“Shut your mouths you heathens!”
The FAWNatics are not in the mood to oblige and force Braddock to shout over them.
“If you thought having my Lightweight Title stolen meant the World Title was going anywhere. Well, I guess I showed you the truth against that pier trash right over there!”
The champ points at Heaven without bothering to look in her direction. The FAWNatics are not amused.
“Santa Monica Barbie couldn’t hold a candle to me. And now she’s sending her grandma to get done what she couldn’t. I hope Medicare is still solvent with what I’m going to do to Little Red!”
Kat drops the microphone and moves to her corner, covered from any shenanigans by Simpson.
As Bianca and Heaven take their posts on the outside, below the corners of champ and challenger, the bell brings the World Title contest to order.
There’s not a hint of trepidation on either side, Braddock a champ at her peak and at an age she might stay on the summit for a very long time; O’Neal with the knowledge and technique of an old hand who’s seen everything.
Together they ram together, hands wide, fingers interlocking, chests pressing against the others as each works to take early control. Colleen swings her limbs inward, flexing her grips into an upturned and uncomfortable position for the World Champ. Kat winces and lifts herself to tiptoes to relieve some of the pressure.
“You ready to put in a long day’s work, kid?” the California Angel asks.
Colleen gives a little extra twist, upping the ante. The Brat hops in place, grimacing and trying to ignore the pain.
“Don’t believe you can make me think twice, Grams. F’n Bianca could beat you.”
“About that,” Colleen interrupts. “Consider how low on the food chain you had to go to find a flunky. Not exactly upper management, are you?” O’Neal asks.
“I’ve been the Worldy more than one f’n month, short-timer, so spare me the insults.”
Her fingers still linked with the redhead’s digits, the Cali Quake drops to her back, pulling in her abbreviated but powerful legs, then starts to piston them out to break free. Before the blonde can completely unfold her limbs, the Ginger Genius settles atop the champ, pelvis on raised backside. Having placed herself in a cradled ball to get loose, a captured Kat now squirms madly, trying to push off her shoulders as Castle drops to count…
ONE…
TWO…
Braddock kicks out, flopping to her side.
Having transferred both grips to Kat’s left wrist, O’Neal hauls the wide-eyed blonde up with her. She backs Braddock into the ropes and flings her to the far side with an Irish Whip. Or that was the plan. The crafty Kat plants and reverses the heave, and it’s the Golden State Wrestling icon racing across the ring.
The Brat settles center stage for Colleen’s return and, when Braddock plucks a returning O’Neal off the deck on her hip for a potential sidewalk slam, the auburn-haired, elder stateswoman uses her momentum to snap her freckled stems shut around the former beachfighter’s head and orbit around the startled blonde, sending Kat somersaulting across the deck with a headscissors takedown.
Headscissors Takedown ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=eGJvuVYMSyo ) :07
It’s not the most impactful landing and Braddock’s up only a tick after O’Neal reaches her feet. However, it proves an important second as the Angel takes wing, leaping into a dropkick to Kat’s fulsome chest.
Braddock flails as she backpedals, her spine THUMPING against the buckles. The flaxen-haired fighter remains upright over a fawning Bianca on the floor below, Simpson trying her best to make the champ aware there’s some nasty incoming.
Too late Kat’s hazel peepers pick up on the charging redhead, O’Neal leaping into a high knee that CRUNCHES into the lowered chin of the champ. Jaw jacked, Braddock’s eyes turn glassy, her body slack.
Colleen moves side by side, wrapping her right arm around the Quake’s braincase. Side headlock applied; O’Neal races out of the buckles with Kat in tow. Reaching the middle, the Angel takes flight once more, ivory legs outstretched as she sits out and delivers Kat’s forehead to the thinly sheathed floorboards with a nasty bulldog.
Braddock’s head bounces off the deck, Kat rising to her knees from the force before flopping to a shoulder and hip, in a daze. Heaven and the Angel’s Choir shout their support from the sidelines, expecting O’Neal to translate the collision into another attempted three-count, but the veteran passes.
As Kat lolls to her back, unsure of her bearings, the Ginger Genius rises and hops to the nearby middle rope. Grabbing the top and using the rubber-coated steel as a springboard, Colleen vaults away from the cables in a u-turn. With her pale legs extended, the blue-eyed beauty drops one lower limb toward Kat’s chest, the other toward her throat.
But Braddock’s got more of her senses than it seems and rolls clear. O’Neal spikes her tailbone into the mat with no crash pad beneath her. Her hands fly underneath her aching rump, massaging her bruised backside as Kat pushes to her feet, pointing at a temple, demonstrating who the intelligent one is.
“Who’s the f’n genius?” The Brat screams.
“YOU…ARE!” Bianca responds on cue. Simpson turns and tries to get a rhythmic clap going for her boss, but the crowd responds with a torrent of cheers instead.
Bianca spins back to Kat, shrugging.
“Do what I taught you, dummy,” Braddock demands.
A light seems to go off in Bianca’s oft times unoccupied gray matter. She twirls and offers the FAWNatics a double middle finger, Simpson thoroughly enjoying showing off her new attitude at the expense of the morons who had a tendency to cheer every one of her many losses.
Kat shakes her head and places her full attention back on Colleen, the redhead having moved from her tush onto one knee, giving her derriere a final rub. The Brat snatches O’Neal around the noggin, one palm on either side, and tugs Colleen up the rest of the way.
The curvy blonde pivots and wrecks the redhead with a wicked backhand chop that echoes through the arena, the fans unable to contain a loud ‘WOOOO’.
Rocked, the Angel’s face is etched in pain, her decolletage turning rosy in its own right, when Kat loads up another blistering knife-edge and THWAPS the Golden State import’s clavicle a second time, THEN A THIRD, the triple play finally knocking O’Neal off her feet.
Kat stares down at the splayed veteran, shaking her head in disdain.
“You should have taken the first ass whippin’ I gave you as a hint. I’m completely out of your league.”
Braddock takes to the air above O’Neal, the point of her right elbow poised for a shot to O’Neal’s sternum, but it’s the champ’s turn to come up empty. Colleen evacuates in time and Braddock drives her joint into the canvas. The blonde flops like a fish out of water, cradling her throbbing right wing close.
The early pace has both combatants slow to rise. With Heaven and Bianca doing their best to inspire their partner to verticality first, it’s even as champ and challenger reach their boot soles.
The women charge each other, sharing the same thought, both nearly removing head from shoulders with simultaneous clotheslines leaving both wrestlers starfished, staring blankly to the rafters, their seconds desperately trying to get the Angel and the Brat up yet again.
Lethargically, the redhead rolls to her chest in Kat’s direction and dumps a limp left arm across the shiny blue spandex stretched tightly across Braddock’s softly rolling bosom.
It’s not much of a pin, but Nick knows it’s good enough.
He collapses to the canvas and slaps the mat for…
ONE…
TWO…
The sellout throng groans in disappointment as Braddock throws a shoulder up, keeping her more than year-long reign intact for at least another three seconds.
It’s the former World Champ who seems in better shape than the current. Colleen slowly pushes to her feet and takes in several deep breaths while Kat makes her way to a seated position, looking drained. The redhead wraps her hands around the head of her opponent and draws Braddock vertically. Instantly, the Cali Quake shoves O’Neal off and surges toward her with a right arm drawn wide for a follow-up clothesline.
Colleen dips under the effort and when the blonde spins to find her foe, she’s met with a digging toe kick to the tummy. Frozen, bug-eyed and gasping, Kat can manage no defense when the Ginger Genius turns away and reaches over her right shoulder to surround The Brat’s noggin with a ¾ facelock grip. The freckled fighter drops to one knee and snapmares Braddock over a shoulder, planting Kat’s tailbone to the canvas, Braddock wincing from the impact of ass to canvas.
A risen O’Neal THUMPS a soccer kick to the champ’s lower vertebrae. Kat’s chest thrusts forward, her body twisting into an arch from the impact of the boot to her spinal column.
The elder stateswoman of FAWN shows she’s still got a motor, racing past the wincing Brat, hitting the cables in front of her foe, and returning with a low-rise meteora. Colleen’s knees CRASH into Braddock’s chest, flattening her adversary.
The auburn-haired grappler ends in a schoolgirl pin of the dazed titleholder, Kat’s chin tucked neatly into the crotch of the California Angel. Colleen scoops her arms behind her to wrap around the raised stems of The Brat. The challenger leans forward with the legs in tow, cradling the blasted blonde.
The FAWNatics roar in anticipation for the overdue ending of Braddock’s time at the top of the mountain and the Angel’s second time at the summit with the…
ONE…
TWO…
A squirming Braddock fights her way free with a second to spare, ending on her side, huffing. The energized O’Neal doesn’t dally, popping to a handstand next to her grounded foe. She turns in a 180 so her overturned frame is pointed inward to the blonde, then tucks as she drops, turning auburn-maned cannonball, her kneecaps POUNDING into the open left ribcage of Braddock.
Kat groans in pain, rolling away from the collision, curvy body collapsing around the impact point. The champ tries to rise but the damage to her side slows the process. She’s halfway to her feet when the Ginger Genius swoops in from behind, snugly cinching in a waistlock. O’Neal tightens her embrace, forcing the air from Kat’s lungs as she lifts the champ off her feet for a split-second before placing her back down on the mat.
Colleen grinds her grip tighter still, the bearhug from behind drawing mewls and raspy breaths in equal measure. Kat swings an elbow, trying to connect with the ginger’s jaw. But the crafty vet dodges the countermeasure and bears down, slowly wearing The Brat into a more malleable state.
After riding her adversary for a dozen seconds, O’Neal dips slightly and hauls Braddock into the air in front of her. The challenger falls forward, using Braddock as her padding. A loud grunt is forced from deep in the Quake’s diaphragm as Kat’s pancaked into the deck, Colleen SPLASHING atop the woman standing, or more aptly lying, between her and a rare second World Title reign.
The redhead rolls Kat to her back beneath her, remaining upon Braddock in a full body pin, fastening The Brat’s arms to the canvas beside her ears, O’Neal’s palms atop Kat’s wrists for Castle’s count of…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
The pearly gates of the World Championship are closed to the California Angel, the sellout throng groaning in disappointment when the tenacious Quake again refuses to allow a challenger to take her most precious title, Braddock pushing a shoulder up.
Kat surprises the assembled when she barrel-rolls 180 degrees, ending above the wriggling O’Neal. A startled Nick gets ONE slap to the mat for the champ before O’Neal repeats the process and it’s Colleen on top for ONE, then Kat, then Colleen. The entwined pair make their way to the apron’s edge and, so focused on one another are the grapplers, they revolve right under the bottom rope and tumble to the arena floor locked in their appealing wheel.
Necks crane in the audience as the crowd tries to find the fierce foes at ringside.
Likewise, their flaxen-haired seconds, around a corner from being within sight, hustle toward the continued conflagration.
A bruised Heaven, still smarting from her earlier loss to Sylvia, and the human tackling dummy, Bianca, find Colleen and Kat entwined as they struggle to rise.
Not waiting to see who emerges with the advantage, Bianca races to join in and Heaven isn’t about to let her mentor face a two-on-one.
As Dawson is about to peel O’Neal off her boss, Hughes tackles her fellow blonde to the floor next to the official combatants and the fight becomes a pair of pairs whose flailing arms and loud threats cause confusion and consternation with FAWN’s lead official.
From within the ring, Castle calls out to a set of burly FAWN attendants to escort Heaven and Bianca from ringside.
While he might have to put up with shenanigans from the contracted wrestlers, he’s not being paid to officiate a scrap between women who could scarcely be called managers.
The men separate Hughes and Dawson and guide them up the ramp, each occasionally trying to break free to attack the other, unsuccessfully. Finally, Heaven and Bianca disappear behind the curtains to continue any disagreement away from prying eyes.
Meanwhile, reaching their feet and breaking apart a stride, the rightful blonde and redhead toss balled right hands, each woman rocking the other in turn, heads snapping to the side from impacts, sweat flying as locks are fanned, the crowd alternating between ‘YAY” and ‘BOO’ with each connection.
Finally, the challenger blocks a blow and doubles up, then blocks and triples, and a startled Kat is backpedaling. The feisty GSW legend has The Brat’s head whiplashing from sparking jabs to the chin, the crowd celebrating each in succession.
With Kat left wobbling in front of her, eyes glassy, a beaming Ginger Genius smooches her fist, then raises it, and pivots for the KO blow when a desperate Braddock reaches into her bag of unsavory tricks and punts O’Neal in the privates.
Splitting the ivory-skinned, freckled wickets of the Angel, the ruthless Brat stands, hands on knees, drawing in deep breaths, using Colleen’s frozen state to recover. Glancing up at the teary-eyed baby blues and quivering lower lip of Golden State Wrestling’s living legend, a long-lost look of confidence returns.
Grabbing O’Neal by her right shoulder and elbow, Kat sweeps a knock-kneed Colleen past, the veteran flung headlong into the steel ring steps, shoulder, ribs and hips CLANGING into the metal, jarring the structure off its base and leaving Colleen puddled in the wake of the collision.
The former beachy catfighter turned top wrestler in the world, at least according to her title qualifications, hovers over the gobsmacked redhead.
“I get it. You’re a tough, old bytch. But you need more than that to beat the best.”
Braddock peels the moaning Angel from the remnants of the steps. She leans the sagging redhead’s back against the apron’s edge and NAILS her with an echoing backhand chop to the chest. Colleen’s features are etched in anguish from the stinging impact and surely from the remainder of the throbbing ache from her undercarriage.
A delighted Kat gives her hand a big, lollypop lick then delivers another vicious knife-edge to the glowing pink clavicle of her challenger.
The Brat turns to the crowd.
“When are you people ever going to understand? There’s no one better than me!”
The FAWNatics make their opposite opinion known, though all evidence in 2023 is to the contrary, except perhaps what The Brat would describe as Crystal Hilton’s stoke of unmitigated good luck.
The blonde bully shoves a reeling O’Neal onto the apron and rolls her back in the ring, a lenient Castle ending his count before disqualifying both competitors. Kat slides in after her prey, pushing to her feet as a debilitated Ginger Genius makes it to a seated position in the middle of the ring.
The surly Kat snatches O’Neal’s auburn mane with her right hand while standing astride the rickety redhead. Braddock flexes her pelvis forward, then swings her pear-shaped backside into the skull of the California Angel, delivering potentially concussive ‘hip attacks’ to Colleen’s scrambled gray matter with her Bratty Butt Bumpers.
Bratty Butt Bumpers ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZMaqsJS_9eg )
O’Neal’s body flops to hip and shoulder when The Brat releases her grip after three booty blasts, Colleen’s baby blues glassy, the GSW icon showing little sense of awareness after the battering bump and grind.
Passing on an opportunity to pin the challenger, Kat peels the reeling redhead off the canvas and bullies her to the nearest corner. There, she drapes O’Neal’s arms over the top rope on either side of the buckles. The blonde grabs the wrists and yanks the limbs under the top strand.
Handlebars in her clutches, the cruel champion raises a boot and thrusts into the tender kitty of Colleen. Pressing the shoe leather roughly into her foe’s crotch, Kat grinds as she jerks on the wings of the flagging O’Neal, Braddock going full catty with her signature Brat Attack.
“REF,” O’Neal squeals. “ROPES!”
Castle tardily starts his count, Kat wreaking havoc for the full four seconds before releasing and strolling away, hands raised in mock innocence.
Seeing the anguish-addled O’Neal still in the corner when she returns her attention to the challenger, Braddock glances at Castle.
“You wanted me out. I’m out. Get her out.”
Nick sympathetically motions Colleen to remove herself from the protection of the buckles.
The crotch-crushed California Angel grimaces as she waddles out, trying her best to regain her ability to relocate with waves of pain erupting from between her freckled stems.
Staying close to the ropes as she awkwardly circles, Colleen keeps her arms raised and advanced to ward off her opponent as Kat stalks the wounded challenger. O’Neal can only maintain space between herself and The Brat for so long until Kat throws herself into a collar and elbow.
In Colleen’s condition, it takes but a few seconds for the flaxen-haired fighter to wrest leverage and control, pivoting and DRIVING a raised knee deep into the gut of the Ginger Genius. O’Neal’s baby blues bug as she’s left gasping and groaning, bent at the waist from the intrusion.
The redhead tries to retreat, apparently unable to keep up with her younger counterpart. As she tries to break away, Kat rewards Colleen with a double axhandle blow between her shoulderblades, sending O’Neal down to one knee, genuflecting in front of an increasingly confident Kat.
The crowd boos relentlessly as Braddock palms the top of the Angel’s dome, then raises her opposite arm high to exhibit her dominance. The vertically-challenged but power-packed blonde cups Colleen’s ears and yanks her adversary to a stooped stance, then bullies O’Neal deep into a set of ropes, transferring her grip to the redhead’s left wrist and shoulder.
Heaving her adversary across the canvas with an Irish Whip, Braddock trails behind, setting center stage for O’Neal’s return. The auburn-haired grappler’s stride has a pronounced hitch from the below-the-belt abuse, but she springs out of the cables at a significant clip.
The Brat is served her meal, namely redheaded stepchild on a silver platter for the titleholder. The curvy blonde dips and scoops O’Neal under her thighs, lifts the veteran all too easily, then rotates and POUNDS Colleen into the deck with a brutal spinebuster.
Spinebuster ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=wV_Ij5XR7LM )
O’Neal’s left spreadeagled after the ring-rattling collision with the canvas. However, Kat chooses to pass on a pin. Instead, she rises from all fours and collects the ankles of the former Artemis, pulling the redhead several feet in front of the nearest corner, boots pointed at the buckles.
The smirking Braddock kicks Colleen’s legs wide, the FAWNatics already letting their displeasure be known as a wide smile emerges on The Brat’s features. The only person in the house unaware of the impending ‘Big One’ from the Quake is the blasted O’Neal, motionless in her starfish position.
The Cali Quake strides to the buckles and nimbly climbs to the top. Turning when she reaches the penthouse, Kat carefully rises from her crouch to stand high above the splayed challenger. With obvious delight. Braddock launches toward her target, arms at her sides, the warhead of her forehead leading the way for the ultimate explosion on Colleen’s kitty.
But the Ginger Genius is playing possum, at least to some degree. With Braddock mid-flight, she rises on her palms and scoots back the vital inches that take the juncture of her thighs out of The Brat’s range. Instead of THUMPING the crown of her skull into O’Neal’s tenderized womanhood, it crashes into empty canvas and floorboards.
The crowd can’t help but reflexively groan in sympathy, even with their hatred of the World Champion, such is the sight of the brainbusting connection of skull to mat. The shellshocked blonde absently flops to her back, exchanging with Colleen the wide ‘X’ frame of her splattered body.
The FAWNatics, bubbling with excitement over the champ’s suddenly decrepit state, shout at the still debilitated O’Neal to somehow take advantage. The redhead rolls to all fours and crawls to her dazed adversary, dropping her sweat-soaked body across Kat’s chest in a perpendicular press of the devastated blonde.
Castle baseball slides to the canvas next to the women, ready for an historic count of…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOO!
Whether out of involuntary muscle memory or not, Braddock spasms a shoulder off the canvas to the disbelief of every single member of the Angel’s Choir. Colleen looks up from her press, now against the side of the blonde, and her hopeful baby blues change to show abject disappointment at two raised digits.
O’Neal runs both sets of fingers through her tousled auburn locks, incredulous Kat successfully used another of her nine lives.
Colleen physically shakes the disbelief out of her system with a head rattle and gets back to work, peeling Braddock off the canvas as she rises. O’Neal tosses Kat to the nearby buckles, the blonde hurtling into a heavy back-first collision with the buckles.
The Angel leaps in after her foe, splashing Kat in the corner, Braddock perilously close to comatose after the impact.
The rejuvenized redhead scoops the champ under her thighs and lifts Kat to a seat on the top buckle. She turns toward the center of the ring and loops her arms around those glistening upper legs, then pulls the wobbly blonde onto her shoulders in an electric chair position.
The crowd cheers as the Ginger Genius walks a slumped Braddock to the middle of the ring and delivers a Cali Redwood, Colleen laying out and THUMPING Kat’s spine and the back of her skull into the canvas with the Drop.
Cali Redwood ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=aQUTT3BIks8 ) :18
O’Neal, still in control of her adversary’s legs, rises to a bridge, jackknifing Braddock into a cradled pin for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOO!
Kat kicks out again, thrusting her pelvis forward and breaking Colleen’s bridge, O’Neal ending on her backside in a state of increasing aggravation, unable to finish The Brat off.
The veteran sweeps damp, matted auburn locks off her face and rises, stepping a few feet from her foe. She motions the softly stirring Braddock to rise for one grand finale and slowly the spent champion, on her last legs, does just that.
The Golden State icon surges to the champ, wrapping her left arm around Kat’s neck while grabbing her foe’s near arm as they stand astride, pointed in opposite directions. In Braddock’s fragile state, O’Neal easily RIPS Kat off her feet with a perfect Ginger Snap (Reverse STO) that POUNDS Braddock’s braincase into the mat, then sweeps her legs up to scissor the head of the faltering Cali Quake in her fateful Golden Gate submission.
Ginger Snap into Golden Gate ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=1KL26GPDVmg )
The Gate isn’t fully closed however as the Ginger Genius can’t reach back and grab her raised leg as a handle to increase the pressure before Braddock starts to rise zombie-like from her match grave. Kat reaches her feet. And although all Braddock can do is stagger to and fall into the ropes, not fully countering O’Neal’s effort, it’s enough for Castle to force Colleen to break her Gate, Braddock apparently using up all nine lives in one match.
To her credit, the auburn-maned veteran, who’s made Chapter Two in her FAWN career a memorable one, gives up her scissors immediately, but only so she can lift and run a ragdolled Kat to a corner, CRASHING the blonde’s forehead into the top buckle.
With one more arrow in her quiver, Colleen slips behind The Brat and climbs to the top buckle, her hands buried in Braddock’s lush golden mane, ready to extinguish Kat for good with her California Dreamin’ finisher.
California Dreamin’ ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=9SqoXOORyrQ ) :51
But as Colleen somersaults off her perch to concussively BANG Kat’s pate off the deck, Braddock reflexively tightens her arm wraps around the top ropes and remains lodged in the corner, though with fewer flaxen locks.
Meanwhile, O’Neal CRASHES to the canvas, off-balance without her guest, and BATTERS her vertebrae into the mat. After Colleen slides to a stop, both women remain motionless save their labored breathing, the crowd rewarding them with a ‘THIS IS AWESOME’ chant.
Finally, Kat exhaustedly pushes away from the buckles and plucks a drained Angel off the mat. Braddock heaves the redhead to the corner, O’Neal hitting with enough force to send her flopping to the canvas, Colleen landing on her taut ivory cheeks, freckled legs extended in front of her.
The sweat-soaked Brat staggers to the buckles farthest from the seated Angel and charges across the squared circle surprisingly quickly, Braddock dipping into her deep reserves. Kat SLAMS into a cross body splash of the reclining redhead with a force that draws an ‘OOOH’ from a crowd also close to exhaustion.
Cali Sandwich ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=zQbKiIEluic )
Rising from a melted Colleen, Braddock grabs the ankles of the splayed O’Neal and wearily drags her to the middle, then drops across her foe in a lateral press for an incredibly well-earned defense with the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Colleen shows her quality, shoving a shoulder up and rolling to her side beneath Braddock, Kat nearly in tears not being able to finish the job after being beaten around the ring.
But Braddock won’t be denied. She slowly hauls the California Angel up as she ascends, capturing Colleen in a front facelock and throwing a limp arm of the redhead over her shoulder. Grabbing a handful of spandex on O’Neal’s hip, she crouches and draws a deep breath. Would she have enough left?
The answer is a resounding ‘yes’ when The Brat vaults her fellow lightweight into cradled clutches against her chest and lays out SPIKING the crown of Colleen’s cranium into the canvas with her lethal Kat Nap.
Kat Nap ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=1nNeUWdGDSo )
The FAWNatics groan in unison with the violent impact. They’re silenced when a consumed Kat flops across Colleen’s carcass for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREEEE!
Castle calls for the bell and the announcer places the bow on this late Christmas present for the ages.
“Your winner and STILL FAWN World Champion…KAT BRADDOCK!”
The reaction of the audience is mixed, some looking past their hatred of The Brat to give Kat and Colleen their due.
Braddock rolls to a back press of her flattened foe and extends a hand to the lead official, Nick grabbing and tugging a fully depleted Kat to her feet.
As Nick moves to the ropes to retrieve Braddock’s belt, Kat places a boot on the gulping tummy of the lifeless O’Neal. Out of respect or exhaustion, Braddock does no further celebrating of her defense save for lifting her hardware high when Castle delivers it to her.
After this ferocious fight, the win is more than enough.