Post by hawkeye on Dec 31, 2023 3:35:12 GMT
The murmur of the crowd rose to an expectant buzz as the arena lights dimmed without warning. A trio of spotlights knifed through the darkness, all merging at the head of the ramp. In time with this came the mournful tolling of a bell and, soon after, a plaintive guitar riff marked the opening of AC/DC’s 'Hell’s Bells', the music roiling through the arena. Shortly thereafter the curtains parted and Hades in the form of a legendary FAWN tag team was unleashed. The roar from the crowd reached a crescendo as Belle’s Hellions claimed center stage.
IVY BELLE ARMSTRONG:
CYNTHIA MITCHELL:
The illustrious partners wore bustiers, Ivy's a dark scarlet trimmed in black, and Cynthia's the opposite color scheme, with black lace panties; each also sported a black lace garter around the upper right thigh. Both went barefoot. Their hair, which usually hung loose and wild, was teased up in a manner that suggested both sophistication and tempestuousness. Each was adorned with a red carnation, which they removed and tossed to their fans.
They blew kisses to the Hellraisers as they worked their way down the aisle, each giving appreciative winks to those who brandished signs of support. When they pass one placard that proclaimed 'ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS NEW TAG CHAMPS!' both Southern gals gave a whooping rebel yell answered in kind by thousands.
Fortified by the support and the opportunity to once again stamp their seal on the FAWN Tag Division, the Hellions made their way to the ring with an atmosphere of supreme self-confidence. The eyes of every man and more than a few women were riveted on the duo, feasting upon their forbidden beauty, drinking in the glory of past and present. Ivy and Cynthia understood this, the veterans clearly energized to take down the team holding hardware that rightfully belonged to them.
“Under different circumstances, I'd be sore over not getting my hands on that punk Dawson this month.” Cynthia told Ivy as they continued their march to the squared circle.
A frown crossed Armstrong's face and she rolled her shoulder at the memory of that damned Armbar. She shook it away and replied, “That's Skye's fight, much as I want a piece of it. She'll get it done. In the meantime we'll slay two other monsters.”
“Hell yeah we will!”
Climbing the steps to the apron, each Hellion entered in her own inimitable style. For Cynthia this meant bending over and slooooooowly stepping between the ropes to give the appreciative crowd a healthy display of her fabled backside. As for Ivy, she leaned back against the ropes, then did a backward flip over 'em, the most accomplished pair of legendary legs in the sport on full outstretched display as she floated through a slow, languid arc arc into the ring.
With the celebrated partners in the ring, each dashed for their own corner, bounding up the turnbuckles to the middle ropes. They signaled title straps would be across their abs by the end of the night and the crowd went bananas, the cheers cascading throughout the bowl.
Descending to the canvas, Armstrong and Mitchell moved to and meet in their corner as their anthem faded. Finally sensing his opportunity, the Announcer called out, “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall with a thirty minute time limit and it is for the FAWN Tag Team Championships! Introducing first, they are the challlengers. Hailing from Charlotte, North Carolina and Uriah, Alabama respectively...tipping the scales at a collective two hundred and forty pounds, CYNTHIA MITCHELL AND IVY BELLE ARMSTRONG, TOGETHER THEY ARE BELLE'S HELLIONS!”
Somehow the assembled produced even more noise for the FAWN originals, Ivy looking for her second tag title run and Cynthia, having also had two with her sister Sophie, in search of an unprecedented fourth stint holding Tag Team gold. Heads together to discuss last minute strategy, the Hellions kept their attention on the stage to better mark the arrival of the pair that'd caused so many problems during the last year.
Craig 'All Night' Long had just finished checking the challengers when the mood went from festive to fearful thanks to nothing more than slow, plinking piano notes.
PSY OPS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=V5z63Bi_d1I
With your feet in the air and your head on the ground
Try this trick and spin it, yeah
Your head will collapse but there's nothing in it
And you'll ask yourself
Where is my mind?
Where is my mind?
Everyone was still jeering wholeheartedly when the curtain was brushed aside and the New Order of Things came into view. Becky Clayton and Celia Blassenville emerged side by side, Peacemaker and Puppeteer joined in an alliance that'd brought rack and ruin to the whole of the Tag Division. The former Howling Commandos greeted their traitorous leader with dismay, disgust and disappointment, the cacophony of their collective distress even louder than the love they'd heaped upon the challengers.
BECKY CLAYTON:
CELIA BLASSENVILLE:
Becky Clayton didn't give a single damn about what they thought, as evidenced by the 'what're ya gonna do about it?' smirk on her face as she undid the belt around her waist and raised it overhead This resulted in another round of jeers but the occasional cheer and whistle could be heard, the more salacious element among the FAWNatics happy to cheer Clayton now that she'd embraced Celia's unorthodox approach. And you couldn't really blame them, considering her battle gear. For tonight's exercise against former World Champions and full-time scarecrows she wore a cold gray, black & blue version of her formerly standard green & brown camouflage two-piece. The tie-sided bottoms were the same as was the ladder / double helix of lycra that ran from the top of her waistband all the way to the southern border of her low-cut sports bra. The look was completed with flat black pads, black boots and a few wraps of matte black wrist-tape. Also worth noting? Clayton's dark brown locks, which usually hung free or pulled back in a simple ponytail were now drawn back in the snug French Braid Celia had favored for years.
Beside her, the Crimson Cagliostro wore a gleaming black lycra one-piece with long ‘sleeves’ that were comprised of a pair of thin ebon bands that wound around her arms, ending just above the wrists. Her ensemble finished with matching knee-pads and gleaming white wrestling boots, while her long copper-colored hair was collected in the aforementioned French Braid. While Clayton hoisted her prize for all to see, Blassenville treated hers as nothing more than an accessory, or perhaps a small but vital piece of equipment in her latest experiment. Indeed she seemed far more interested in Bex's reaction to the crowd (and vice versa) than the women waiting in the ring. After a moment she leaned over to Clayton and murmured something in her ear.
The BFG snorted and nodded. “You're thinking too small, doc. Brat's got enough middle child energy to power the Eastern Seaboard. As for Ivy... she's just a wishbone that hasn't been snapped yet.” On that cheery note she started down the ramp and Celia fell into place a few steps behind.
They were halfway to the squared circle when the Announcer called, “And introducing their opponents. Hailing from Denver, Colorado and New Cannan, Louisiana respectively, weighing in at a combined total of two-hundred and eighty pounds, they are the reigning and defending FAWN Tag Team Champions... BECKY CLAYTON AND CELIA BLASSENVILLE!”
The boos got louder, which only ensured Clayton raised her belt all the higher as dual Destroyers tromped up the steel steps and slipped through the ropes. Unfazed by the presence of the challengers, Bex strolled to center ring and might've gone right into the Hellions corner if Craig hadn't stepped in her way at the last instant. Celia kept her distance, though her eyes were everywhere at once, the Mistress of Puppets searching for the perfect opening query for tonight's experiment.
Psy Ops elected to send Celia forth at the sound of the bell and while it looked like Cynthia would take point for the Hellions, Ivy laid a hand on her partner's shoulder to go in her stead, a choice that delighted aficionados of auburn aggression around the world. As seemingly unfazed by this former World Champion as she was every other woman she'd experimented upon, Blassenville strode to the center of the squared circle and offered Armstrong an appraising glance even as she began to circle.
“Ivy Belle Armstrong, as I live and breathe.” Celia murmured, her usually bland academic tone spiced up by just a hint of the Louisiana drawl she'd so ferociously stripped away during her time as an undergraduate. “I've often wondered what might be discovered if you ever happened into my lab. A genuine FAWN original and someone as morally gray as her hair is red. An intriguing case indeed.”
Ivy pivoted on her back heel to keep the Destroyer in sight, though she made no attempt to close distance even after she'd raised her fists like a woman eager to brawl. “Heard stories about you too, Ms. Celia.” the challenger replied. “More'n one claims you're the worst thing to ever walk out of the bayou on two legs. Others make it sound like you can read a girl's mind just by looking at her and while I will admit you cut an impressive figure, I tend to take the most stock in the third type of story I've heard about ya. The ones that say you're nothing more than a schoolyard bully with million dollar vocabulary and a penchant for pulling the wings offa flies.”
Blassenville arched an eyebrow, but she made no move toward the challenger. “If that's the case I might advise you to mind the volume of your buzzing, though I suppose that's impossible considering the absolute ruin you and Jan Brady have made of your respective reputations.”
Armstrong's eyes narrowed to angry green slits. “Care to explain yourself, sugah?”
“As if I need to spell it out. The Armstrong name used to mean something, as did Mitchell. But ever since you two impudent children buried the hatchets Belle and Natalie were so kind to forge and hone... well, you're Hellions in name only.” Celia paused, offered the challenger a vaguely malicious smile. “Now that I consider the prospect, 'HINO' might be a useful abbreviation to emblazon across the seat of those sadly ill-fitting briefSNNNNNGGGHH!”
Ivy didn't bother with the civility of a Bitch Slap, she simply barreled in and PWAAAKED Blassenville across the jaw with a right-handed Haymaker! The Mistress of Puppets staggered back on impact, albeit not far enough to prevent Armstrong from snatching a big ol' handful of the champ's braid!
“Hey, get out of her hair, Ivy!” Craig Long barked over the cheers of the capacity crowd. “And open up that hand!”
She ignored the former and obliged the latter, if only to CRACK a hard slap across the other woman's cheek! To Craig she offered a wink and a challenge, “'Fraid you're gonna have to make me, sweetness.” Then it was right back to those Haymakers, the 'Bama Slamma just teeing off on her opponent's forehead as she marched her back into the ropes. Punctuating their arrival with a final punch and a one-two pair of Broadside Kneelifts across the tummy, Armstrong switched over to a Wristlock and ground a shoulder into Blassenville's sternum as she cooed, “I'd advise looking for some softer words, sugah. They'll be a lot easier to say through a mouth full of broken teeth.” With that she stepped back, dropped a shoulder and slung the Temptress toward the other side of the ring with an Irish Wh—NO!
Celia reached the end of the tether, dug in both heels and sent the Southern Charmer to the opposite set in her place. Armstrong took the reversal without missing a beat, in fact she was charged back at Celia like it's what she'd wanted all al-- Blassenville roared forward and sprang off her plant foot with a Pump Kick that would've caved in Ivy's chin if she hadn't dipped low at just the right moment! Bouncing off another set of strands only increased the redhead's speed, in fact Celia had only just turned around when the challenger lashed out with a right-armed Clothesline across the Temptress' chest.
The twenty-five pound weight disparity meant that alone might not have succeeded in taking Blassenville off her feet, which was why the former World Champion also used her right leg like a scythe to sweep Celia's strong stems out from underneath, the STO more than enough to THWHAM Blassenville down flat on her back! Armstrong pounced on the cover at once, greedily hooking the far leg for a count of...
RUNNING STO:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vq3ln3WVKtA
ONE...
'OOOOHHHHH!' from the crowd when the Crimson Cagliostro braced her hands against chest and tummy and powered Ivy back to her feet with a single violent shove!
Nodding understanding as she got her first taste of Blassenville's strength, the Hellion backed off a little ways, then rushed forward and took to the skies to THWHAP a Dropkick offa Celia's jaw the instant she regained her footing! Blassenville took it flush and stumbled back with her arms windmilling awkwardly, but the champ was still on her feet when she reached the ropes and they steadied her considera—“NNGGGH!” Armstrong rushed in at top speed, hopped up to set her left foot on the bottom strand and then THWHUNKED a gorgeous Kneelift between the other redhead's eyes!
ROPE-LEANED HIGH KNEE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xn3N6IsUqU8
Celia swayed in place against the rubber-coated steel, she might've collapsed to her knees if left alone but the challenger wasn't feeling that generous so she laid claim to Blassenville's wrist and took a giant step back to sling the not so good doctor across the ring with an Irish Whip. No reversal this time around, Blassenville thundered across the canvas, hit the strands and started back the way she'd came without a word of complaint. As for Ivy, she threw herself into the strands the Destroyer had so recently vacated to provide the all important boost that'd ensure she met Celia in the middle at the appropriate time. Picking up speed as the distance burned away, Uriah's Finest left her feet to pounce on Blassenville with a Thesz Pres—OH NO!
The Temptress thrust her right hand against Ivy's sternum even as her left reached down to catch hold of the former World Champ's trunks at her left hip with the other. Shoving up and out with both grips, Celia muscled her burden into the lights, then slung her down to THAWHAM Armstrong onto the deck with a massive Spinebuster! Ivy bounced hard and rolled onto one side, her back spasming in an involuntary arch that suggested the canvas might be electrocuted.
The crowd was crestfallen, Cynthia looked concerned and Bex crowed quite loudly, but Celia herself was as dispassionate as ever once she'd smoothed her hair down. “I see your reputation for brawling remains as genuine as ever, at least.” she told the prone Southerner. “I'm sure such spirited fisticuffs were more than enough to win you the adoration of every dim-witted reprobate in three counties, but I assure you that more impressive feats will be required if you wish to see the Tag Team gold around your waist once again.”
“You think kicking your ass is impressive, Dr. Frankenfurter?” Cynthia chided from the Hellions' corner. “It's not, but I'll make sure to act tired when I put my boot on your chest after the bell.”
“Bold words from someone who's yet to tag into the match.” Celia noted as she turned her attention to the Cyn-Ful One. “But rest assured Ms. Mitchell, should you be foolish enough to accept your partner's hand if she's ever close enough to offer it, both Rebecca and I will happily lavish you with all the attention your mother and siblings so rudely withheld.”
Cynthia sneered and prepared a reply only to stop short when she realized Ivy's heels were kicking and skidding against the mat. “HEY!” she pointed an accusing finger at Blassenville. “Bitch is stepping on her throat, Craig!”
Her cruel ruse discovered, Celia pressed down a little harder just to let Long know that his scrutiny meant very little in her eyes. From there she crouched down and sprang into the air, the big redhead kicking out both legs so she could bring the right one THWHAPPING down atop Ivy's throat! Armstrong rasped and twisted over onto her stomach only for Blassenville to plunge both hands into the other wrestler's hair. Switching over to a Wristlock once she had Ivy back on her feet, Celia actually whipped the 'Bama Slamma toward her partner only to reel her in close so she could 'smeck' both arms around the smaller wrestler's waist. No Bear Hug this, Blassenville sank into a deep crouch and popped her hips to hurl Ivy up, over and down, Armstrong THAWHAMMED to the mat within easy reach of the Psy Ops corner.
OVERHEAD BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=fmIiJ3ZvGq8
“Excellent work, doc!” Clayton offered some applause as the Mistress of Puppets strode over to scrape their burden off the canvas. “You feeling ready to share or am I gonna have to wait a little longer?”
Celia didn't respond at once, rather she hooked her right arm across Armstrong's flat midsection and scooped her up like she was a bag of laundry. “Don't ask obvious questions, Rebecca.” she tromped over and extended her free hand, which Clayton promptly tagged. “Haven't I told you over and over again, sharing is caring?”
Snorting, Bex grabbed the top rope in both hands and vaulted into an impatient crouch on the top turnbuckle while the Temptress hooked her free arm beneath the other redhead's calves and pivoted so her feet were pointed toward the champs' corner. The mood among those assembled was already uneasy, it grew downright worried when Blassenville dropped to one knee and Clayton came off the top in a gorgeous leap, the Camouflage Crusher bringing her knees to chest level before she STOMPED down on Armstrong's sternum with every bit of her hundred and thirty-plus pounds! Blassenville pushed up on Ivy's legs as soon as Becky came down, thus the vulnerable Southerner was flipped end over end, landing awkwardly on the back of her head and shoulders only to tumble onto her stomach immediately thereafter.
BACKBREAKER & DOUBLE STOMP @ 00:30
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ba9juaPNi8I
Elsewhere, Clayton settled on one knee and blew the middle Mitchell a kiss only to immediately swing around into a domineering Crossbody that put Armstrong's knee up snug against her aching chest while also offering the champ a full view of the Hellions' corner while Craig and the rest of the FAWNatics counted...
ONE...
TWO...
Cynthia had no doubt her partner could've kicked out of the Double Team on her own, but she was in no mood to take chances OR tolerate the smug look on the BFG's face. To that end she vaulted over the strands and bolted toward the cover only to skid to a halt when Clayton abandoned her mount and bounced to verticality! Careful to very deliberately step on Ivy's tummy en route to going nose to nose with the third former World Champion in this match, Bex treated Cynthia to a brazen chest-bump and didn't give any ground when the challenger bumped her right back! “Nice try, princess. Try putting a little more strength behind it next time, though. Still won't be as good as Sophie, but at least I'll know you're tryNNNNGGGHHH!”
Cynthia blasted her with a quick Headbutt between the eyes, then followed up with a Bitch Slap that rocked the Camouflage Crusher back on her heels! “That strong enough for ya, bitch?” Mitchell sneered as she grabbed a massive handful of hair and yanked Clayton's mug into position for better slappin'. “No? Guess I need to—oh come on, Long!”
The crowd hated it as much as Cynthia, but no one could argue that the ref wasn't in the right when he looped an arm around the challenger's waist and started hauling her back to the far corner! Of course she still had a firm grip on Becky's hair, which meant the Peacemaker was obliged to follow along, at least until she planted her feet and YANKED back to free herself from the second generation superstar's clutches at the cost of some lost locks. T'was a price she paid gladly as Celia had returned to the ring with the official's attention elsewhere and promptly pinned Ivy's arms overhead in a Full Nelson as soon as she made it to her knees. Forcing the other redhead's chin down into her decolletage even as she muscled her up to full verticality, Blassenville shook the hold back and forth until Becky disengaged and headed back toward the fracas. Eyes meeting, the ladies of Psy Ops exchanged nothing more than a nod but that was still enough signal for Blassenville to dip down and muscle Armstrong high into the air! With Ivy's legs sweeping forward into nothing, Clayton stepped forward and let those dangerous stems come down atop her shoulders, then wrapped both arms around her burden's waist. Delaying gratification just long enough for Celia to return to the apron, Becky flung Ivy forward and down while simultaneously dropping to a seat to THAWHAM her to the deck with a thunderous Sit-Out Powerbomb!
FULL NELSON LIFT TO SIT-OUT POWERBOMB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=z4cW1eIsgjY
The ring shook with the impact, yet Clayton, rightly guessing that Long was still dealing with Cynthia, didn't bother wasting energy on a cover. Instead she somersaulted away and bounced upright to offer the Season's Beating crowd a confident double bicep flex. Dismissing the jeers with an effortless sneer, Bex swept a hand over Ivy and asked, “What, you worried I was going to finish her too fast? Don't worry, I wouldn't deny you losers your bread and circuses.” This earned her nothing more than a fresh wave of jeers, so she strolled over to Ivy and filled her hands with those coppery tresses en route to hauling her off the mat. Quick to cup her left hand over Armstrong's chin as soon as the 'Bama Slamma was upright, the One Woman Army hunkered down and threaded her right arm between Ivy's thighs so she could hoist her up across her shoulders in a spine-wrenching Torture Rack!
TORTURE RACK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ovUYLMYiOPw
“AAARRHHH FAAAAHHHK!” Ivy thrashed and flailed as Becky showed her off the the hard camera before swinging in the direction of the Hellions' corner.
“Gotta admit, she screams pretty good for a lab rat!” Clayton might've addressed everyone but her eyes never left Cynthia's. “But I bet you scream even better, don't you, little girl? Yeah, all the frustrated middle child energy, I bet you'll shriek to wake the dead when I hoist you--”
“You're gonna shriek into my ass, buttercup.” Mitchell snapped at the hardbody brunette. “And I promise, that ride's gonna last longer than your first title reign.”
The smirk on Clayton's face fell away in an instant and she took a step forward only to pause and draw back three. “You're gonna have to tag in to even try, bitch.” she snapped. “And we're not gonna give you the chance.” On that ominous prophecy she twisted her hips hard to the left, then snapped back and swung Armstrong off her shoulders, the aching bendy-back spun clear and whipped 'round into position in front of Clayton so she could endure her second Sit-Out Powerbomb in as many minutes!
TORTURE RACK TO SIT-OUT POWERBOMB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=EgW4kkhfBsA
Unlike the previous effort Bex did go for a pin here, hooking her calves over Ivy's biceps and leaning into those upturned haunches with the Waistlock firmly secured. Craig swooped into position which left Cynthia with a troubling conundrum. Maintaining her position on the apron meant leaving the other Hellion to kick out an assisted after a brutal mugging from a pair of determined Destroyers, but rushing in to break it up in full view of the Camouflage Crusher almost guaranteed her partner would endure more double teaming if the Terrible Tar Heel wasn't very, very careful. Whatever her decision, she needed to make it fast because the zebra's arm was already descending for the...
ONE...
TWO...
THRNOOOO!
Armstrong jerked a shoulder off the mat with half a second to spare, her resilience earning a cheer from the Orlando faithful and a sigh of relief from Cynthia, who had just made it through the strands.
Keeping a careful eye on the middle Mitchell even as she helped herself to Ivy's battle-damp tresses, Clayton clambered to verticality and murmured, “Good thing she's tougher than you, right baby?” Cynthia wanted nothing more than to slap the smug right offa Clayton's head, but she didn't dare charge the Peacemaker under the watchful eye of Craig and Celia. Disappointed when the other brunette returned to her corner, Becky hauled Armstrong to her feet and switched over to a Wristlock. “More for you then, bitch.”
“Muuuuhhh... more?” Ivy grunted. “I was not under the impression you'd offered me anything of substance in the first place, madNNGGHH!”
Becky jabbed a Shoulderblock into the challenger's sternum, then pivoted toward a neutral corner and sent Armstrong on her way with an emphatic Irish Whip! The subsequent BWUUUNG of body on buckles set a great deal of teeth on edge and the communal discomfort only increased when Becky rushed in like a freight-train and THAWHUMPED Ivy's slender frame against unforgiving steel courtesy a tummy-on-tits Avalanche Splash!
Planting her right shoulder in the redhead's gut as soon as her own feet returned to the canvas, Clayton hooked her prey around the thighs and boosted her into a slumped seat on the top turnbuckle. From there Becky mounted the second strand, grabbed hold of Armstrong's hair and carefully forced the wheezing challenger to stand atop the high rent district. Murmurs of concern from all corners of the FAWN Arena when Clayton ascended to the top as well, the One Woman Army quick to cinch her arms around Ivy's waist in a Bear Hu—“NNNGGGGHH!”
Uriah's Finest, perhaps sensing that the time for action was dangerously short, grabbed hold of Becky's shoulders and THUMPED a single Kneelift into the Tag Champ's crotch! Even under the best of circumstances such a shot would've dropped Clayton to her knees, but these circumstances were hardly ideal and indeed things grew considerably worse for the Destroyer when she lost her footing and dropped into an awkward seat that saw her undercarriage come down full force on the top turnbuckle!
The resultant shudder almost sent Armstrong plummeting into the aether, though thankfully disaster was averted when she snatched a massive double fistful of her attacker's hair. Managing a shaky smile while Clayton groaned and tried to catch her breath, Armstrong halved her grip to deliver a dozen quick punches to the brunette's pate and it probably would've been twice that if Clayton hadn't slumped backward into the Tree of Woe!
“Yeah, that's it, Ivy!” Cynthia bellowed from the challengers' side of town. “Stomp her ass! Stomp her ass into the damned dirt!”
Ivy wasn't sure her balance would allow for such a thing, but she did put her feet to good work by shifting them to the brunette's defenseless shins. Doing so caused Clayton to squirm in pain, the upended powerhouse fitfully reaching for the top rope in an effort to haul herself upright. “Nuuuhhhh... nasty swamp trash.” she growled up at the 'Bama Slamma. “I'm gonna fuck you up for thaHHHHRRRRGGGGHH!”
Ivy sprang into the void with both knees drawn up to chest-level, a position she held until gravity began to draw her back toward terra firma. Only then did she straighten out, the former World Champion DRIVING her heels into Becky's chest with a massive Double Stomp that tore the Camouflage Crusher out of the corner and THAWHAMMED her down hard on the back of her head and shoulders!
TREE OF WOE DOUBLE STOMP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=OOOWS9-8Edg
Armstrong's landing was admittedly better, but not by too much as she crashed down flat on her tummy with an awful thud was was only eclipsed by the calamity inflicted upon her opponent. Didn't seem to matter though, adrenaline and thousands of folks cheering your name was a heady combination, one that only grew more intoxicating when the redhead scrambled upright and dove halfway across the ring to TAG Cynthia's outstretched hand!
Mitchell was over the ropes in a trice and though she yearned to stomp a big ol' mudhole in Becky Clayton as soon as her feet touched the ground, the second generation superstar hooked a sharp right and hurled herself into the Psy Ops corner where she THWHAPPED a huge Dropkick offa Celia's chin! The startled Destroyer was knocked off the apron and backpedaled across the narrow aisle before coming to a stop when her lower back banged against the steel guardrail! Shaking her head clear in short order, the Temptress glared daggers at Cynthia but the brunette paid no notice as she'd already turned her attention to Becky, who'd only just started to rise in the aftermath of Ivy's colossal Double Stomp.
Approaching the penitent champ with only the worst of intentions, Mitchell skipped off the canvas, kicked her right leg up high overhead and brought that foot down full force between her opponent's shoulders! Bex grunted and reared back on her knees, which proved to be exactly the wrong choice because Mitchell snatched a handful of hair and proceeded to deliver half a dozen quick Kawada-style kicks to her penitent adversary's forehead.
BASEMENT AXE KICK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=75GNl_Xoz8g
It would've been more if Clayton hadn't let out a growl and swatted her attacker's foot aside en route to stuffing a heavy punch into her midsection. “Get the fuck offa me, loser.” she huffed to the challenger. “Long, when're you gonna make this bitch let go of my haRRRGGHHHH!”
The erstwhile official had been approaching for just such a remonstrance, unfortunately for Becky it hadn't yet left his lips when Cynthia yanked the brunette forward while simultaneously lifting her right leg high enough to brace the laces against Clayton's cheek. Just like that she STOMPED down to inflict a short, savage abrasion that earned raucous cheers from everyone but the ladies of Psy Ops!
“All right Cynthia, enough of that!” Craig shouted over the clamor. “Leggo of her hair and watch what you're scraping with those laces!”
Mitchell gave him a wink even as she tightened her grip on the other wrestler's hair. “Whatever you say, All Night!” Long grunted with obvious irritation, though this noise was lost amidst more cheers from the FAWNatics when Cynthia went up on tiptoe and dropped to all fours to THWHUNK Clayton's forehead into the canvas with resounding force!
Becky's head bounced away from the impact and she flopped over onto her back with Mitchell crawling after to go for a cover. But the opportunity was denied her at least for the moment as the One Woman Army promptly tumbled back to her stomach and rose to all fours. The Terrible Tar Heel reached for her adversary, then backed off and got to her feet instead. Positioned a little ways off of the other brunette's left side, Mitchell lined up her shot, then sprinted forward and laid out on her back while thrusting her right leg forward to THWHACK a scintillating Single Leg Dropkick against Clayton's temple!
BASEMENT SINGLE LEG DROPKICK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=gbhAvf8bSgA
Becky was knocked onto her back once again, though damned if she didn't sit up with one hand pressed to her aching skull almost immediately thereafter. But Mitchell wasn't gonna be denied, she forced the former World Champion down and slid into a snug Crossbody, the challenger making sure to grind the ridge of one forearm across Becky's jawline while she hooked the far leg for...
ONE...
TWO...
Clayton shoved her way loose half a heartbeat after 'TWO!'
Cyn huffed but didn't look too disappointed, she knew the Camouflage Crusher was obnoxiously resilient and even if she wasn't the challenger wasn't yet satisfied with the punishment doled out thus far. “On your feet, Private Buttercup.” Cynthia chided in the midst of dragging the woozy wrestler to boot-leather. “It's time you apologized to my friend for earlier shittiness.”
“I should... should be apologizing to your mothers.” Bex grunted. “If I'd taken the time to spank you both a little earlier in your careers, maybe you'd amount to something more than total disappointRRRRGGGHHHH!”
The Cyn-Ful One raked her opponent's eyes on general principle, then switched over to a perfectly legal Wristlock when Celia and the official squawked their complaints. Offering both a nod of feigned sympathy, Mitchell pointed her foe into the Hellions' corner and sent her on her way with an Irish Whip. Ivy saw her coming and deftly dropped off the apron in case Clayton had something unpleasant on her mind. She needn't have worried though, Becky only turned around to BWUNG against the buckles and sound of her accompanying grunt suggested she barely had the wherewithal to do that. Still, the Southern Charmer remained on the floor as Cynthia charged in and took to the skies in a low hop that culminated with both heels THWHUMPING against the waistband of her opponent's bottoms!
Clayton 'ooofffhed!' and doubled over in the buckles, then dropped onto her butt with an audible thump when Cynthia hooked a foot behind the breathless brunette's right ankle and tugged that leg out from underneath. The response from the crowd was as immediate as it was thunderous, the whole of the December crowd shooting to its feet as Cynthia turned around and grabbed the top rope in both hands.
“Help yourself to a tag as soon as Long starts to count.” the middle Mitchell advised her partner. “I'll keep Private Buttercup here occupied 'til then.”
Clayton didn't hear Armstrong's reply, she was too busy trying to catch her breath after that almost illicit Dropkick. “Duuuhhhh... don't even think about it, bitch.” she grunted at the challenger. “Keep that saggy shit the hell out of my MMMPPPPGGGHHHHHH!”
Never one to take orders very well, the former World Champion thrust her hips backward to give Clayton a huge faceful of domineering backside! And of course mere impact was only the beginning as Cynthia crouched deep and bounced in place while effortlessly scrubbing her glutes back and forth and up and down before settling into a taut little figure eight pattern that ensured minimal oxygen and maximum cheek to cheek humiliation!
Those assembled for tonight's show could've watched the tawdry spectacle continue until Mitchell burned up the last of her reserves, alas the struggling champion was in the ropes and it wasn't long before Craig Long hurried over to enforce the break. Of course Mitchell wasn't going to relent simply because he asked nice, she forced the man to start a count, at which point Ivy tagged herself in as previously agreed. Hopping over the strands while Cynthia continued to bump and grind, the 'Bama Slamma crossed a good three quarters of the squared circle, though she stopped short of the Psy Ops buckles in case the Crimson Cagliostro tried something untoward. Blassenville did not, though her expression said that the Hellions' offenses had been noted and filed away for future consideration.
Ivy favored the other redhead with a quick wink, then wheeled around and raced back the way she'd came. In a show of impeccable timing, Ivy took flight just as Craig reached 'FOUR!' on his count and Cynthia twisted away from the gasping, greasy-cheeked countenance of the Peacemaker. So grateful was Clayton to draw a deep, butt-free breath that she didn't notice Armstrong flying in, the Southerner's knees drawn up close to her chest until the moment she uncoiled to the full extent of her five foot eight inches to THWHACK a Hesitation Dropkick into Becky's sternum!
HESITATION DROPKICK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=HzJjUYmHc5I
Clayton shuddered from end to end on impact, but Ivy made no effort to prize her from the corner to go for a pin. Instead she scrambled to verticality and tagged Cynthia, who'd only returned to the apron a moment prior. Then she took hold of Becky's ankles and draaaaaaaaaaaaaagged her out into the middle of the ring for a proper return to boot-leather.
As for Mitchell, she slipped through the strands and hit the ropes directly in front of her partner and their target. With Armstrong sidled up on Clayton's left, Cynthia exploded off the ropes and went airborne as Ivy did the same. In the next instant the redhead hooked her right arm around Becky's head and cupped her chin while Mitchell leaned back and drilled her right foot into the champ's chin with another Single Leg Dropkick. Cynthia's strike was more than enough to knock the woozy Destroyer off her feet, though that didn't stop Armstrong from yanking back with all her might, the added momentum of the Leaping Russian Leg Sweep adding remarkable emphasis to the THAWHAM of the back of Clayton's skull striking the thinly-padded canvas!
BACK ROAD TO NOWHERE @ 00:16
www.youtube.com/watch?v=oAU0dyyRsqQ
Delighted by the roar of the throng as they sent Becky crashing down a Back Road to Nowhere, Ivy quickly rolled under the bottom rope to ensure there was no distracting Craig when Cynthia splashed down on the champ's chest and hooked the far leg for a count of...
ONE...
TWO...
THRNOOOO!
With Armstrong out of the ring, Celia had a clear shot at the middle Mitchell and she made most of the opportunity by THUMPING a huge kick into the brunette's ribs! Hands overhead as soon as the cover was broken, the Temptress looked ever so sorry for her actions as she retreated to the corner with Long following closely behind.
The cheap shot certainly hadn't felt great against her ribs, yet there was no denying Cynthia was still the fresher fighter when judged against her brunette opposition. “Should've told the psycho to stay in the corner.” Mitchell growled at Becky as she filled her hands with Clayton's hair and scraped her off the canvas. “Now I'm completely justified in dropping you on your face all over again.”
Drawing the One Woman Army into a Standing Headscissors, Cynthia slipped her arms under Clayton's biceps and jerked up to secure a Double Underhoo—NO! Still aware enough to know when the bottom was about to drop out of things, Bex went down on one knee and when Mitchell set to haul her back into place the BFG whipped the back of her skull into the juncture of the challenger's thighs!
That shot alone was enough to break Cynthia's grip, which in turn let Clayton slide clear of the dangerous predicament. Unfortunately for the challenger it did not balance the ledger as far as Becky was concerned, though it drew a great deal closer to even once the Camouflage Crusher crooked her right hand into a fist and THUMPED that forearm up into the North Carolinian's crotch! Neither Ivy or Craig saw the Low Blows, they only heard the crowd break into disgusted jeers as each returned to their respective places in the squared circle. What they did see was Clayton hooking her right arm beneath Cynthia's right thigh so she could brace that hand against the bendy-back's gulping tummy. From there Bex set her left hand against the small of Mitchell's back, then let out a roar as she surged to boot-leather and muscled the Cyn-Ful One high into the lights! Everyone save Cynthia seemed to cringe during that monstrous ascent and even the Temptress turned her head to the side in a little grunt of sympathetic anguish when Clayton THAWHAMMED her burden down on the deck with a massive One-Armed Powerbomb!
ONE-ARMED POWERBOMB @ 00:11
www.youtube.com/watch?v=DWbpuSJbkUg
Mitchell exploded into a boneless sprawl on contact with the canvas, but the former World Champion made no attempt to cover the vulnerable Southerner. Instead she flipped the hair out of her face and took a few deep breaths while she watched the downed brunette with narrow, angry eyes. “You put your ass in my face, Jan.” Clayton muttered after a moment's deliberation. “That's a level of disrespect I just can't toler--”
Raucous cheers from the Season's Beatings revelers when Cynthia raised a weary hand to flip off her Destroyer-class adversary! “Eat shit, buttercup.” she huffed. “I haven't begun to disrespect you yeNNNGGGHH!”
Becky lunged forward and STOMPED down hard on Mitchell's tummy, then did it again and made sure to twist her heel afterward! Helping herself to the other woman's hair when she sat up in the aftermath, Clayton dragged Cynthia to verticality and pulled her in close by sliding her right arm under the challenger's left bicep and hooking her left arm over Mitchell's right shoulder. Hands locked just beneath the nape of Cyn's neck, Bex dipped her knees before she popped her hips to send the Terrible Tar Heel soaring across the ring to THWHAM down flat on her back!
The Head & Arm Suplex put Mitchell a great deal closer to the Psy Ops corner, indeed Celia offered her hand to the redhead even though Clayton was already dragging the woozy Hellion to her knees. “Be with ya in just a sec, Doc.” she told Celia. “This one here needs a little more instruction. She's learning all the wrong lessons.”
The words were barely out of her mouth when Becky lashed out a quick Bitch Slap that paintbrushed the right side of Cynthia's face! Back to the hair-hold immediately thereafter, the Peacemaker powered Mitchell upright and reapplied the head & arm grip she'd used moments ago. Squeezing far harder than she really needed to, the Clayton backed up a couple steps only to put a great deal of distance between herself and the challenger with her second Suplex in barely a minute!
HEAD & ARM SUPLEX @ 1:08[/b]
www.youtube.com/watch?v=y5LkIGs3ybk
Mitchell landed with a resounding impact that bounced her into a slumped seat with one hand pressed to the back of her head and the other reaching for Ivy. The 'Bama Slamma stepped onto the bottom rope and leeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaned as far over the top rope as gravity would allow, but she was still a few feet shy of a legal tag to her partner. She was in fact still reaching when Becky stomped up from behind and snatched the brunette's head in both hands. Left hand palming the crown of Cynthia's skull while the right glommed onto her chin, Clayton set her feet wide and wrenched Mitchell's noggin at an angle that tested the limits of human anatomy.
NECK TWIST:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=NDI5KLX3oAM
Though the shadowy, shredded definition in her arms and shoulders confirmed Bex was exerting a great deal of force, she didn't ask Cynthia or the official for a submission. Instead she looked Ivy Armstrong dead in the eyes and said, “Tell her to tap out, Ivy. You worked your way up to this match once, you can do it again. You're not winning tonight, though. This brat's knobbly little head belongs to me and if she pisses me off I might twist a little too hard. So tell her to do the smart thing. Live to fight another day... unless you want to watch while I do what you never courrrrggghhhhhh!”
Mitchell had been scrabbling at the champ's wrists, now she crooked her left arm into a 'V' and ground the dagger of her elbow down into the toes of Clayton's boot. “There's your answer, sugah.” Ivy chided. “You can take all those threats and stuff 'em right up your--” she would've said 'ass' but the redhead grimaced alongside everyone else when Becky abruptly released the Neck Twist so she could rear back and THWHACK a vile Soccer Kick into the seated wrestler's spine!
Cynthia's back arched on impact, one hand instinctively shooting in the direction of her partner while the other tended to the worst of the hurt. And Armstrong reached back no question of that, but the Hellions were still a little too far apart, especially with the Camouflage Crusher lurking so close. Clearly unimpressed by Mitchell's show of tenacity, Clayton swatted the outstretched hand down, then grabbed a double handful of hair and dragged Cyn across the canvas before she pivoted around, the champ brazenly offering Armstrong her back as she wedged Mitchell's noggin between her thighs for a Standing Headscissors.
With Cynthia's vaunted backside pointed straight at the Psy Ops corner, Bex wrapped her arms around the bendy-back's waist and muscled her up onto her shoulders for a Powerbomb. Or rather, she set the other brunette in place for a Powerbomb, because instead of simply hurling her burden forward and down, Clayton rushed toward the far corner intent on slamming her prey into the thinly-padded steel turnbuckles—NOOO! Mitchell crossed her ankles tight, then torqued her hips to send Clayton flying headfirst toward the corner while the Terrible Tar Heel came down flat on her belly with nary a scratch!
Understandably excited by Cynthia's timely escape, that FAWNatics were entirely focused on her efforts to make it back across the squared circle before Becky or Celia could interject. However this single-mindedness meant that no one realized Becky had managed to grab hold of the second strand at the last possible second, thus avoiding the concussive collision with the turnbuckle. It did not prevent Celia from swatting her partner's shoulder and vaulting over the ropes in the same motion, the Crimson Cagliostro showing off some genuine Lightweight ups as she rushed down the oblivious Mitch—“CYNTHIA, DOWN!” Ivy shouted at the top of her lungs and Cyn obeyed without hesitation, meaning she avoided the Pump Kick Blassenville aimed at the back of her skull by scant inches!
Cursing as she skidded past the retreating brunette, Celia took a swipe at Ivy on general principle but Uriah's Finest dropped off the apron at the last possible second. Attention back on Cynthia in the span between heartbeats, the Temptress interrupted her foe's return to verticality with a heavy Kneelift to the sternum, then snatched hold of her hair and doubled her over to reapply the Headscissors Becky had used only moments prior. Arms locked around the brunette's midsection immediately thereafter, Celia muscled Cynthia up onto her shoulders to—“EERRRGGHH!”
Mitchell palmed the back of Blassenville's head in one hand so she could raaaaaaaaaake the Destroyer's eyes with the other! This rough treatment didn't actually free her from the Powerbomb stall, it did however send Celia stumbling backward far enough for the Middle Mitchell to SLAP hands with Ivy the instant the 'Bama Slamma skipped onto the apron!
Soon as she was legal Armstrong crooked her hands into talons and scored Blassenville from shoulders to lower back, a bit of catty nastiness that finally allowed Cynthia to squirm free of her attacker's shoulders! Helping herself to the Temptress' hair once she was back on the ground, Mitchell doubled her foe over and whipped her head back and forth to ensure the Mistress of Puppets wasn't thinking about Ivy until the other other redhead leapt onto the top rope and hopped off just as fast, Armstrong STAMPING her feet down between Celia's shoulders while Mitchell dropped to her butt to THAWHONK Blassenville's forehead into the deck courtesy a Sit-Out Facebuster! Cynthia slid away and pushed to her feet, leaving Ivy to roll Celia onto her back for a count of...
ONE...
TWO...
THRNOOOO!
The Temptress kicked out with half a second to spare, earning grumbles of disappointment from the FAWNatics, not to mention the Hellions.
Still, Cynthia was feeling much better after the near disaster of the Buckle Bomb. “Keep on her, Ivy!” she called after slipping through the ropes. “Those belts are coming with us tonight, I can feel HHHHHHRRRRGGGGHH!” In their efforts to dispatch the Crimson Cagliostro the challengers had lost track of the One Woman Army and this proved most costly for Cynthia when Clayton exploded outta nowhere to launch herself through the strands with a Spear that folded the brunette in half before THWHAMMING her to the floor only inches from the guardrail!
SPEAR THROUGH THE ROPES:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ob-xUH9rLSA
The unexpected offense left Becky wiped out too, meaning Ivy was the only woman upright at the moment, a condition of which she meant to take full advantage. Wrapping Celia's braid around one fist to better haul the other redhead to her knees, Armstrong balled her other hand into a fist and started to pwak-pwak-pwak-pwak a furious fusillade of punches into the penitent Destroyer's forehead. The brazenly closed fist brought a warning from Craig Long, but the former World Champ paid him no mind until he'd reached 'FOUR!' on his count. Only then did she raise her punchin' hand and crook that arm into a 'V' so she could THUNK the point her elbow between Blassenville's eyes! Celia reeled in the aftermath of the Bionic Elbow but she didn't go down, so Armstrong switched over to a perfectly legal grip on the other wrestler's ears and hauled her to—“OOOFFHH!”
The Temptress pounded a heavy right hand into the challenger's tummy, then slipped that arm through Ivy's strong stems and effortlessly muscled her up onto her shoulders in a Fireman's Carry! “Your efforts are valiant, Ms. Armstrong.” Blassenville huffed as she tromped to the middle of the ring. “But ultimately doomed, as are the efforts of all white micNGH!”
Armstrong jabbed an elbow into the side of her attacker's skull, then tagged on another so she could slip down Blassenville's back. Stuffing a Kneelift into Celia's gut to double her over, Ivy slipped her right arm under the Temptress' left bicep and clamped onto the back of her head in a simple Half Nelson. In the same instant she snatched a handful of hair and brought her left knee up to THWHUNK the bridge of Celia's nose!
HALF NELSON KNEELIFT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=80r12qYok1E
Blassenville was knocked flat by the blow, but sat up moments later, albeit with a clearly glassy sheen in her eyes. This didn't seem to bother Ivy at all, indeed she promptly resumed her control on the champ's braid so she could draaaaaaaaaaag her into the ropes nearest the Hellions' corner. “What's wrong, sugah?” Armstrong's tone was all 'bless your heart' malice as she grabbed the top rope and casually raised her right foot to STAMP on the prone battler's chest. “Looks like you're having a hard time catching your breath, you hyperventilatin' over losing those titles?” Blassenville started to answer, which was when the 'Bama Slamma shifted her foot up to the hollow of Celia's throat and dropped into a deep crouch!
Ivy's showy dominance earned a cheer of support from the FAWNatics even though it was technically an illegal choke. Long noted this and short order and, remembering how his last warning was ignored, went straight into a count that once again reached 'FOUR!' before Ivy cleared off with both hands raised. “Just giving her a taste of her own medicine, that's all.” Armstrong purred at the irritated zebra. “You know she and Clayton love stretchin' the rules, right?” Ivy didn't wait for him to answer, she wheeled around on one foot and sprinted into the ropes on the far side of the ring. Picking up even more speed as she bounced outta the strands, Armstrong charged right up to the edge and dropped into a low slide, the lithesome redhead lashing out with right leg to THAWHACK the Mistress of Puppets across the chest!
SOUTHERN WIZARD:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=85ZV_Ouq70E
Blown into a woozy stupor by the power of the Southern Wizard, Celia offered no complaint when Armstrong glommed onto both ankles and hauled her out to the middle of the mat and folded her into a domineering Matchbook, Ivy bracing her tush against Blassenville's upturned thighs for a count of...
ONE...
TWO...
THRENOOOOOOOO!
The Crimson Cagliostro didn't really kick out, rather she slopped over onto one side to spill Ivy off her perch with little more than a whisper to spare! “C'mon!” Armstrong scrambled to verticality to better snap at Craig Long. “That was three!”
“It was almost three.” the official corrected. “Maybe keep on her and next time it'll actually be three. And keep her out of the ropes!”
Ivy wasn't listening, she'd already returned her attention to Blassenville, which was a kind way of saying she was actively stomping a mud hole in the other redhead's ribs! Celia soaked them up as best she could, eventually turned onto her stomach and rose to all fours only for Uriah's Finest to hit her with a Double Axehandle to the nape of the neck! Digging her nails into Blassenville's hair to keep her from collapsing all the way back to the canvas, Armstrong hauled her up in stages, then stepped back and delivered a quick Toe Kick to fold the Destroyer over. Spinning around to catch a Three Quarters Facelock as Celia gasped for breath, Ivy drew her in close and—“OOFFFHH!”
The Temptress curled her right arm into a tire iron and THWHAPPED it across her attacker's tummy! Armstrong gasped but wouldn't abandon the Facelock so Blassenville hit her twice more, the final shot enough to dissolve the attempted Stunner entirely. Threading her left arm beneath the challenger's left bicep as soon as she was able, Celia cupped the back of Armstrong's noggin to complete the Half Nelson, then yanked the Southerner skyward and laid out flat on her belly to THAWHAM her against the canvas with a ring-shivering Half Nelson Slam!
HALF NELSON SLAM:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=P6ruCcsggVY
Ivy bounced to a seat on impact, an instinctive reaction that Blassenville choose to interpret as impertinence. “Your resilience is admirable, Ms. Armstrong. Indeed I'd wager it's the only quality you possess that your storied mother doesn't find entirely disappointing.” Celia murmured as she dropped into a deep crouch and palmed the seated wrestler's noggin in both hands. “I wonder if she'll bother searching for some other admirable trait when the resilience runs out or if she'll simply hitch herself to the Mitchell name once and for all.”
“Yuuuuhhh.... you've got no idea what you're talking about, sugah.” Armstrong reached back with both hands and grabbed onto Blassenville's wrists in an effort to prize free of disconcerting grip. “But if you don't shut up about my family I'll knock you the fuck WHOOAAAHH!”
The Temptress dipped into a deep crouch, then straightened up and lifted her hands high overhead in a swift, disturbing show of strength that hoisted the challenger back to verticality. Ivy's soles had barely touched the canvas when Celia curled her right hand into a fist and THUMPED a vicious body shot into the challenger's liver! Ivy went ghastly pale and folded over, she might've gone down on all fours if Blassenville hadn't straightened her up with a rough hand. “Legs failing you, Ms. Armstrong? Allow me.”
Ivy didn't want any of Celia's 'help', alas the issue was out of her hands as the Destroyer crouched down and wedged her head between Armstrong's thighs. Such a choice would've been suicidal against an Ivy more in control of her own faculties, but at the moment they were more showpiece than weapon. Not that this stopped the FAWNatics from 'ooohhhhing' in concern when Blassenville stood up and boosted Ivy high into the air courtesy the Electric Chair. With Uriah's Finest still far more aware of the anguish in her midsection than her current elevation, Celia moved her hands from Ivy's knees to her buns and tromped over to a neutral set of strands where she pushed up and forward while dipping her head, the Mistress of Puppets slinging Armstrong into a short free-fall that ended with her TWANGING throat-first across the top rope! Ivy's head snapped back and the rest of her followed, the challenger stumbling in fence-post holes as she tried to catch her breath after that blast from the Stun Gun. As for Celia, she turned around and ran the ropes to come back the way she'd came, her timing such that she arrived just as the 'Bama Slamma turned around and—THWHUMP!
PUMP KICK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=AY5brFRXIvw
The Pump Kick caught her flush in the chest and she went down hard, Armstrong desperately sucking wind as she tried to get off her back. She was still trying when Blassenville bent down and grabbed her by the shoulder-straps. “And so another worthy experiment draws to a close.” Celia murmured as she dragged Ivy upright just to bend her backward in a painful Inverted Facelock. “In the interest of full disclosure, I must confess I'm not yet sure which of you is holding the other back, but rest assured I'll let both of you know when my results will be publish--”
Cheers from those assembled as Cynthia dove under the bottom rope and scrambled to her fee—NO! Clayton caught Mitchell's right ankle at the last possible second and yanked it out from underneath! Catching hold of the other ankle as soon as Cyn crashed to the deck, the Camouflage Crusher sneered, “Not your turn yet, buttercup!” A single violent yank pulled Mitchell out of the ring, the limber brunette seeming to float for a moment in a sort of Reverse Splash that would've done considerable damage if she'd landed on an adversary and not the barely-padded floor.
Offering Clayton a single nod once the other Hellion was neutralized, Blassenville reached down with her free (right) hand and latched onto Armstrong's waistband at her right hip. Just like that she muscled Ivy upside down, the redheads snuggled in chest-to-chest and kept there via the Inverted Facelock and Blassenville relinquishing the trunks grip to hook her foe's right leg. Twisting around as soon as she'd controlled the leg, the Crimson Cagliostro made one and a half rotations before she shot up on tiptoes and dropped to a seat to THAWHAM the back of Armstrong's head and shoulders into the mat with resounding force!
GRIEF SPIRAL @ 00:06
www.youtube.com/watch?v=o010-0eY2Zw
Thoroughly consumed by the power of Blassenville's Grief Spiral, Ivy didn't even twitch when the redhead secured both her legs in a tight bundle and silently waited out the...
ONE...
TWO...
THREE!
Celia tossed those captured limbs aside and got to her feet as Becky returned to the ring, the ladies of Psy Ops exchanging a fist bump while the Announcer confirmed the results of tonight's experiment. “Ladies and gentlemen, your winners via pin-fall and STILL the FAWN Tag Team Champions... PSY OPS!”
“Deal with it, nerds!” Clayton barked to the jeering throng as she raised her golden prize to the rafters. “Actually, don't deal with it! Your trauma keeps us in business! Isn't that right, doc?”
Blassenville slipped her title around her waist and snapped it tight while keeping an interested eye on Ivy. “It's a little too gauche to put on a business card,” she opined, “but hardly incorrect. Noise equals outrage which equals engagement which equals more interesting results. It's when the mice get quiet that we may have to start worrying.”
“Oh, I don't think that'll be an issue.” Bex replied with a sinister smile. “They get quiet, we up the dosage. Voltage? Violence?”
The Mistress of Puppets actually laughed, a sound that chilled a good number of floor-seat FAWNatics.
“All three, Rebecca.” she replied. “All three.”
IVY BELLE ARMSTRONG:
CYNTHIA MITCHELL:
The illustrious partners wore bustiers, Ivy's a dark scarlet trimmed in black, and Cynthia's the opposite color scheme, with black lace panties; each also sported a black lace garter around the upper right thigh. Both went barefoot. Their hair, which usually hung loose and wild, was teased up in a manner that suggested both sophistication and tempestuousness. Each was adorned with a red carnation, which they removed and tossed to their fans.
They blew kisses to the Hellraisers as they worked their way down the aisle, each giving appreciative winks to those who brandished signs of support. When they pass one placard that proclaimed 'ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS NEW TAG CHAMPS!' both Southern gals gave a whooping rebel yell answered in kind by thousands.
Fortified by the support and the opportunity to once again stamp their seal on the FAWN Tag Division, the Hellions made their way to the ring with an atmosphere of supreme self-confidence. The eyes of every man and more than a few women were riveted on the duo, feasting upon their forbidden beauty, drinking in the glory of past and present. Ivy and Cynthia understood this, the veterans clearly energized to take down the team holding hardware that rightfully belonged to them.
“Under different circumstances, I'd be sore over not getting my hands on that punk Dawson this month.” Cynthia told Ivy as they continued their march to the squared circle.
A frown crossed Armstrong's face and she rolled her shoulder at the memory of that damned Armbar. She shook it away and replied, “That's Skye's fight, much as I want a piece of it. She'll get it done. In the meantime we'll slay two other monsters.”
“Hell yeah we will!”
Climbing the steps to the apron, each Hellion entered in her own inimitable style. For Cynthia this meant bending over and slooooooowly stepping between the ropes to give the appreciative crowd a healthy display of her fabled backside. As for Ivy, she leaned back against the ropes, then did a backward flip over 'em, the most accomplished pair of legendary legs in the sport on full outstretched display as she floated through a slow, languid arc arc into the ring.
With the celebrated partners in the ring, each dashed for their own corner, bounding up the turnbuckles to the middle ropes. They signaled title straps would be across their abs by the end of the night and the crowd went bananas, the cheers cascading throughout the bowl.
Descending to the canvas, Armstrong and Mitchell moved to and meet in their corner as their anthem faded. Finally sensing his opportunity, the Announcer called out, “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall with a thirty minute time limit and it is for the FAWN Tag Team Championships! Introducing first, they are the challlengers. Hailing from Charlotte, North Carolina and Uriah, Alabama respectively...tipping the scales at a collective two hundred and forty pounds, CYNTHIA MITCHELL AND IVY BELLE ARMSTRONG, TOGETHER THEY ARE BELLE'S HELLIONS!”
Somehow the assembled produced even more noise for the FAWN originals, Ivy looking for her second tag title run and Cynthia, having also had two with her sister Sophie, in search of an unprecedented fourth stint holding Tag Team gold. Heads together to discuss last minute strategy, the Hellions kept their attention on the stage to better mark the arrival of the pair that'd caused so many problems during the last year.
Craig 'All Night' Long had just finished checking the challengers when the mood went from festive to fearful thanks to nothing more than slow, plinking piano notes.
PSY OPS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=V5z63Bi_d1I
With your feet in the air and your head on the ground
Try this trick and spin it, yeah
Your head will collapse but there's nothing in it
And you'll ask yourself
Where is my mind?
Where is my mind?
Everyone was still jeering wholeheartedly when the curtain was brushed aside and the New Order of Things came into view. Becky Clayton and Celia Blassenville emerged side by side, Peacemaker and Puppeteer joined in an alliance that'd brought rack and ruin to the whole of the Tag Division. The former Howling Commandos greeted their traitorous leader with dismay, disgust and disappointment, the cacophony of their collective distress even louder than the love they'd heaped upon the challengers.
BECKY CLAYTON:
CELIA BLASSENVILLE:
Becky Clayton didn't give a single damn about what they thought, as evidenced by the 'what're ya gonna do about it?' smirk on her face as she undid the belt around her waist and raised it overhead This resulted in another round of jeers but the occasional cheer and whistle could be heard, the more salacious element among the FAWNatics happy to cheer Clayton now that she'd embraced Celia's unorthodox approach. And you couldn't really blame them, considering her battle gear. For tonight's exercise against former World Champions and full-time scarecrows she wore a cold gray, black & blue version of her formerly standard green & brown camouflage two-piece. The tie-sided bottoms were the same as was the ladder / double helix of lycra that ran from the top of her waistband all the way to the southern border of her low-cut sports bra. The look was completed with flat black pads, black boots and a few wraps of matte black wrist-tape. Also worth noting? Clayton's dark brown locks, which usually hung free or pulled back in a simple ponytail were now drawn back in the snug French Braid Celia had favored for years.
Beside her, the Crimson Cagliostro wore a gleaming black lycra one-piece with long ‘sleeves’ that were comprised of a pair of thin ebon bands that wound around her arms, ending just above the wrists. Her ensemble finished with matching knee-pads and gleaming white wrestling boots, while her long copper-colored hair was collected in the aforementioned French Braid. While Clayton hoisted her prize for all to see, Blassenville treated hers as nothing more than an accessory, or perhaps a small but vital piece of equipment in her latest experiment. Indeed she seemed far more interested in Bex's reaction to the crowd (and vice versa) than the women waiting in the ring. After a moment she leaned over to Clayton and murmured something in her ear.
The BFG snorted and nodded. “You're thinking too small, doc. Brat's got enough middle child energy to power the Eastern Seaboard. As for Ivy... she's just a wishbone that hasn't been snapped yet.” On that cheery note she started down the ramp and Celia fell into place a few steps behind.
They were halfway to the squared circle when the Announcer called, “And introducing their opponents. Hailing from Denver, Colorado and New Cannan, Louisiana respectively, weighing in at a combined total of two-hundred and eighty pounds, they are the reigning and defending FAWN Tag Team Champions... BECKY CLAYTON AND CELIA BLASSENVILLE!”
The boos got louder, which only ensured Clayton raised her belt all the higher as dual Destroyers tromped up the steel steps and slipped through the ropes. Unfazed by the presence of the challengers, Bex strolled to center ring and might've gone right into the Hellions corner if Craig hadn't stepped in her way at the last instant. Celia kept her distance, though her eyes were everywhere at once, the Mistress of Puppets searching for the perfect opening query for tonight's experiment.
Psy Ops elected to send Celia forth at the sound of the bell and while it looked like Cynthia would take point for the Hellions, Ivy laid a hand on her partner's shoulder to go in her stead, a choice that delighted aficionados of auburn aggression around the world. As seemingly unfazed by this former World Champion as she was every other woman she'd experimented upon, Blassenville strode to the center of the squared circle and offered Armstrong an appraising glance even as she began to circle.
“Ivy Belle Armstrong, as I live and breathe.” Celia murmured, her usually bland academic tone spiced up by just a hint of the Louisiana drawl she'd so ferociously stripped away during her time as an undergraduate. “I've often wondered what might be discovered if you ever happened into my lab. A genuine FAWN original and someone as morally gray as her hair is red. An intriguing case indeed.”
Ivy pivoted on her back heel to keep the Destroyer in sight, though she made no attempt to close distance even after she'd raised her fists like a woman eager to brawl. “Heard stories about you too, Ms. Celia.” the challenger replied. “More'n one claims you're the worst thing to ever walk out of the bayou on two legs. Others make it sound like you can read a girl's mind just by looking at her and while I will admit you cut an impressive figure, I tend to take the most stock in the third type of story I've heard about ya. The ones that say you're nothing more than a schoolyard bully with million dollar vocabulary and a penchant for pulling the wings offa flies.”
Blassenville arched an eyebrow, but she made no move toward the challenger. “If that's the case I might advise you to mind the volume of your buzzing, though I suppose that's impossible considering the absolute ruin you and Jan Brady have made of your respective reputations.”
Armstrong's eyes narrowed to angry green slits. “Care to explain yourself, sugah?”
“As if I need to spell it out. The Armstrong name used to mean something, as did Mitchell. But ever since you two impudent children buried the hatchets Belle and Natalie were so kind to forge and hone... well, you're Hellions in name only.” Celia paused, offered the challenger a vaguely malicious smile. “Now that I consider the prospect, 'HINO' might be a useful abbreviation to emblazon across the seat of those sadly ill-fitting briefSNNNNNGGGHH!”
Ivy didn't bother with the civility of a Bitch Slap, she simply barreled in and PWAAAKED Blassenville across the jaw with a right-handed Haymaker! The Mistress of Puppets staggered back on impact, albeit not far enough to prevent Armstrong from snatching a big ol' handful of the champ's braid!
“Hey, get out of her hair, Ivy!” Craig Long barked over the cheers of the capacity crowd. “And open up that hand!”
She ignored the former and obliged the latter, if only to CRACK a hard slap across the other woman's cheek! To Craig she offered a wink and a challenge, “'Fraid you're gonna have to make me, sweetness.” Then it was right back to those Haymakers, the 'Bama Slamma just teeing off on her opponent's forehead as she marched her back into the ropes. Punctuating their arrival with a final punch and a one-two pair of Broadside Kneelifts across the tummy, Armstrong switched over to a Wristlock and ground a shoulder into Blassenville's sternum as she cooed, “I'd advise looking for some softer words, sugah. They'll be a lot easier to say through a mouth full of broken teeth.” With that she stepped back, dropped a shoulder and slung the Temptress toward the other side of the ring with an Irish Wh—NO!
Celia reached the end of the tether, dug in both heels and sent the Southern Charmer to the opposite set in her place. Armstrong took the reversal without missing a beat, in fact she was charged back at Celia like it's what she'd wanted all al-- Blassenville roared forward and sprang off her plant foot with a Pump Kick that would've caved in Ivy's chin if she hadn't dipped low at just the right moment! Bouncing off another set of strands only increased the redhead's speed, in fact Celia had only just turned around when the challenger lashed out with a right-armed Clothesline across the Temptress' chest.
The twenty-five pound weight disparity meant that alone might not have succeeded in taking Blassenville off her feet, which was why the former World Champion also used her right leg like a scythe to sweep Celia's strong stems out from underneath, the STO more than enough to THWHAM Blassenville down flat on her back! Armstrong pounced on the cover at once, greedily hooking the far leg for a count of...
RUNNING STO:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vq3ln3WVKtA
ONE...
'OOOOHHHHH!' from the crowd when the Crimson Cagliostro braced her hands against chest and tummy and powered Ivy back to her feet with a single violent shove!
Nodding understanding as she got her first taste of Blassenville's strength, the Hellion backed off a little ways, then rushed forward and took to the skies to THWHAP a Dropkick offa Celia's jaw the instant she regained her footing! Blassenville took it flush and stumbled back with her arms windmilling awkwardly, but the champ was still on her feet when she reached the ropes and they steadied her considera—“NNGGGH!” Armstrong rushed in at top speed, hopped up to set her left foot on the bottom strand and then THWHUNKED a gorgeous Kneelift between the other redhead's eyes!
ROPE-LEANED HIGH KNEE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xn3N6IsUqU8
Celia swayed in place against the rubber-coated steel, she might've collapsed to her knees if left alone but the challenger wasn't feeling that generous so she laid claim to Blassenville's wrist and took a giant step back to sling the not so good doctor across the ring with an Irish Whip. No reversal this time around, Blassenville thundered across the canvas, hit the strands and started back the way she'd came without a word of complaint. As for Ivy, she threw herself into the strands the Destroyer had so recently vacated to provide the all important boost that'd ensure she met Celia in the middle at the appropriate time. Picking up speed as the distance burned away, Uriah's Finest left her feet to pounce on Blassenville with a Thesz Pres—OH NO!
The Temptress thrust her right hand against Ivy's sternum even as her left reached down to catch hold of the former World Champ's trunks at her left hip with the other. Shoving up and out with both grips, Celia muscled her burden into the lights, then slung her down to THAWHAM Armstrong onto the deck with a massive Spinebuster! Ivy bounced hard and rolled onto one side, her back spasming in an involuntary arch that suggested the canvas might be electrocuted.
The crowd was crestfallen, Cynthia looked concerned and Bex crowed quite loudly, but Celia herself was as dispassionate as ever once she'd smoothed her hair down. “I see your reputation for brawling remains as genuine as ever, at least.” she told the prone Southerner. “I'm sure such spirited fisticuffs were more than enough to win you the adoration of every dim-witted reprobate in three counties, but I assure you that more impressive feats will be required if you wish to see the Tag Team gold around your waist once again.”
“You think kicking your ass is impressive, Dr. Frankenfurter?” Cynthia chided from the Hellions' corner. “It's not, but I'll make sure to act tired when I put my boot on your chest after the bell.”
“Bold words from someone who's yet to tag into the match.” Celia noted as she turned her attention to the Cyn-Ful One. “But rest assured Ms. Mitchell, should you be foolish enough to accept your partner's hand if she's ever close enough to offer it, both Rebecca and I will happily lavish you with all the attention your mother and siblings so rudely withheld.”
Cynthia sneered and prepared a reply only to stop short when she realized Ivy's heels were kicking and skidding against the mat. “HEY!” she pointed an accusing finger at Blassenville. “Bitch is stepping on her throat, Craig!”
Her cruel ruse discovered, Celia pressed down a little harder just to let Long know that his scrutiny meant very little in her eyes. From there she crouched down and sprang into the air, the big redhead kicking out both legs so she could bring the right one THWHAPPING down atop Ivy's throat! Armstrong rasped and twisted over onto her stomach only for Blassenville to plunge both hands into the other wrestler's hair. Switching over to a Wristlock once she had Ivy back on her feet, Celia actually whipped the 'Bama Slamma toward her partner only to reel her in close so she could 'smeck' both arms around the smaller wrestler's waist. No Bear Hug this, Blassenville sank into a deep crouch and popped her hips to hurl Ivy up, over and down, Armstrong THAWHAMMED to the mat within easy reach of the Psy Ops corner.
OVERHEAD BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=fmIiJ3ZvGq8
“Excellent work, doc!” Clayton offered some applause as the Mistress of Puppets strode over to scrape their burden off the canvas. “You feeling ready to share or am I gonna have to wait a little longer?”
Celia didn't respond at once, rather she hooked her right arm across Armstrong's flat midsection and scooped her up like she was a bag of laundry. “Don't ask obvious questions, Rebecca.” she tromped over and extended her free hand, which Clayton promptly tagged. “Haven't I told you over and over again, sharing is caring?”
Snorting, Bex grabbed the top rope in both hands and vaulted into an impatient crouch on the top turnbuckle while the Temptress hooked her free arm beneath the other redhead's calves and pivoted so her feet were pointed toward the champs' corner. The mood among those assembled was already uneasy, it grew downright worried when Blassenville dropped to one knee and Clayton came off the top in a gorgeous leap, the Camouflage Crusher bringing her knees to chest level before she STOMPED down on Armstrong's sternum with every bit of her hundred and thirty-plus pounds! Blassenville pushed up on Ivy's legs as soon as Becky came down, thus the vulnerable Southerner was flipped end over end, landing awkwardly on the back of her head and shoulders only to tumble onto her stomach immediately thereafter.
BACKBREAKER & DOUBLE STOMP @ 00:30
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ba9juaPNi8I
Elsewhere, Clayton settled on one knee and blew the middle Mitchell a kiss only to immediately swing around into a domineering Crossbody that put Armstrong's knee up snug against her aching chest while also offering the champ a full view of the Hellions' corner while Craig and the rest of the FAWNatics counted...
ONE...
TWO...
Cynthia had no doubt her partner could've kicked out of the Double Team on her own, but she was in no mood to take chances OR tolerate the smug look on the BFG's face. To that end she vaulted over the strands and bolted toward the cover only to skid to a halt when Clayton abandoned her mount and bounced to verticality! Careful to very deliberately step on Ivy's tummy en route to going nose to nose with the third former World Champion in this match, Bex treated Cynthia to a brazen chest-bump and didn't give any ground when the challenger bumped her right back! “Nice try, princess. Try putting a little more strength behind it next time, though. Still won't be as good as Sophie, but at least I'll know you're tryNNNNGGGHHH!”
Cynthia blasted her with a quick Headbutt between the eyes, then followed up with a Bitch Slap that rocked the Camouflage Crusher back on her heels! “That strong enough for ya, bitch?” Mitchell sneered as she grabbed a massive handful of hair and yanked Clayton's mug into position for better slappin'. “No? Guess I need to—oh come on, Long!”
The crowd hated it as much as Cynthia, but no one could argue that the ref wasn't in the right when he looped an arm around the challenger's waist and started hauling her back to the far corner! Of course she still had a firm grip on Becky's hair, which meant the Peacemaker was obliged to follow along, at least until she planted her feet and YANKED back to free herself from the second generation superstar's clutches at the cost of some lost locks. T'was a price she paid gladly as Celia had returned to the ring with the official's attention elsewhere and promptly pinned Ivy's arms overhead in a Full Nelson as soon as she made it to her knees. Forcing the other redhead's chin down into her decolletage even as she muscled her up to full verticality, Blassenville shook the hold back and forth until Becky disengaged and headed back toward the fracas. Eyes meeting, the ladies of Psy Ops exchanged nothing more than a nod but that was still enough signal for Blassenville to dip down and muscle Armstrong high into the air! With Ivy's legs sweeping forward into nothing, Clayton stepped forward and let those dangerous stems come down atop her shoulders, then wrapped both arms around her burden's waist. Delaying gratification just long enough for Celia to return to the apron, Becky flung Ivy forward and down while simultaneously dropping to a seat to THAWHAM her to the deck with a thunderous Sit-Out Powerbomb!
FULL NELSON LIFT TO SIT-OUT POWERBOMB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=z4cW1eIsgjY
The ring shook with the impact, yet Clayton, rightly guessing that Long was still dealing with Cynthia, didn't bother wasting energy on a cover. Instead she somersaulted away and bounced upright to offer the Season's Beating crowd a confident double bicep flex. Dismissing the jeers with an effortless sneer, Bex swept a hand over Ivy and asked, “What, you worried I was going to finish her too fast? Don't worry, I wouldn't deny you losers your bread and circuses.” This earned her nothing more than a fresh wave of jeers, so she strolled over to Ivy and filled her hands with those coppery tresses en route to hauling her off the mat. Quick to cup her left hand over Armstrong's chin as soon as the 'Bama Slamma was upright, the One Woman Army hunkered down and threaded her right arm between Ivy's thighs so she could hoist her up across her shoulders in a spine-wrenching Torture Rack!
TORTURE RACK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ovUYLMYiOPw
“AAARRHHH FAAAAHHHK!” Ivy thrashed and flailed as Becky showed her off the the hard camera before swinging in the direction of the Hellions' corner.
“Gotta admit, she screams pretty good for a lab rat!” Clayton might've addressed everyone but her eyes never left Cynthia's. “But I bet you scream even better, don't you, little girl? Yeah, all the frustrated middle child energy, I bet you'll shriek to wake the dead when I hoist you--”
“You're gonna shriek into my ass, buttercup.” Mitchell snapped at the hardbody brunette. “And I promise, that ride's gonna last longer than your first title reign.”
The smirk on Clayton's face fell away in an instant and she took a step forward only to pause and draw back three. “You're gonna have to tag in to even try, bitch.” she snapped. “And we're not gonna give you the chance.” On that ominous prophecy she twisted her hips hard to the left, then snapped back and swung Armstrong off her shoulders, the aching bendy-back spun clear and whipped 'round into position in front of Clayton so she could endure her second Sit-Out Powerbomb in as many minutes!
TORTURE RACK TO SIT-OUT POWERBOMB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=EgW4kkhfBsA
Unlike the previous effort Bex did go for a pin here, hooking her calves over Ivy's biceps and leaning into those upturned haunches with the Waistlock firmly secured. Craig swooped into position which left Cynthia with a troubling conundrum. Maintaining her position on the apron meant leaving the other Hellion to kick out an assisted after a brutal mugging from a pair of determined Destroyers, but rushing in to break it up in full view of the Camouflage Crusher almost guaranteed her partner would endure more double teaming if the Terrible Tar Heel wasn't very, very careful. Whatever her decision, she needed to make it fast because the zebra's arm was already descending for the...
ONE...
TWO...
THRNOOOO!
Armstrong jerked a shoulder off the mat with half a second to spare, her resilience earning a cheer from the Orlando faithful and a sigh of relief from Cynthia, who had just made it through the strands.
Keeping a careful eye on the middle Mitchell even as she helped herself to Ivy's battle-damp tresses, Clayton clambered to verticality and murmured, “Good thing she's tougher than you, right baby?” Cynthia wanted nothing more than to slap the smug right offa Clayton's head, but she didn't dare charge the Peacemaker under the watchful eye of Craig and Celia. Disappointed when the other brunette returned to her corner, Becky hauled Armstrong to her feet and switched over to a Wristlock. “More for you then, bitch.”
“Muuuuhhh... more?” Ivy grunted. “I was not under the impression you'd offered me anything of substance in the first place, madNNGGHH!”
Becky jabbed a Shoulderblock into the challenger's sternum, then pivoted toward a neutral corner and sent Armstrong on her way with an emphatic Irish Whip! The subsequent BWUUUNG of body on buckles set a great deal of teeth on edge and the communal discomfort only increased when Becky rushed in like a freight-train and THAWHUMPED Ivy's slender frame against unforgiving steel courtesy a tummy-on-tits Avalanche Splash!
Planting her right shoulder in the redhead's gut as soon as her own feet returned to the canvas, Clayton hooked her prey around the thighs and boosted her into a slumped seat on the top turnbuckle. From there Becky mounted the second strand, grabbed hold of Armstrong's hair and carefully forced the wheezing challenger to stand atop the high rent district. Murmurs of concern from all corners of the FAWN Arena when Clayton ascended to the top as well, the One Woman Army quick to cinch her arms around Ivy's waist in a Bear Hu—“NNNGGGGHH!”
Uriah's Finest, perhaps sensing that the time for action was dangerously short, grabbed hold of Becky's shoulders and THUMPED a single Kneelift into the Tag Champ's crotch! Even under the best of circumstances such a shot would've dropped Clayton to her knees, but these circumstances were hardly ideal and indeed things grew considerably worse for the Destroyer when she lost her footing and dropped into an awkward seat that saw her undercarriage come down full force on the top turnbuckle!
The resultant shudder almost sent Armstrong plummeting into the aether, though thankfully disaster was averted when she snatched a massive double fistful of her attacker's hair. Managing a shaky smile while Clayton groaned and tried to catch her breath, Armstrong halved her grip to deliver a dozen quick punches to the brunette's pate and it probably would've been twice that if Clayton hadn't slumped backward into the Tree of Woe!
“Yeah, that's it, Ivy!” Cynthia bellowed from the challengers' side of town. “Stomp her ass! Stomp her ass into the damned dirt!”
Ivy wasn't sure her balance would allow for such a thing, but she did put her feet to good work by shifting them to the brunette's defenseless shins. Doing so caused Clayton to squirm in pain, the upended powerhouse fitfully reaching for the top rope in an effort to haul herself upright. “Nuuuhhhh... nasty swamp trash.” she growled up at the 'Bama Slamma. “I'm gonna fuck you up for thaHHHHRRRRGGGGHH!”
Ivy sprang into the void with both knees drawn up to chest-level, a position she held until gravity began to draw her back toward terra firma. Only then did she straighten out, the former World Champion DRIVING her heels into Becky's chest with a massive Double Stomp that tore the Camouflage Crusher out of the corner and THAWHAMMED her down hard on the back of her head and shoulders!
TREE OF WOE DOUBLE STOMP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=OOOWS9-8Edg
Armstrong's landing was admittedly better, but not by too much as she crashed down flat on her tummy with an awful thud was was only eclipsed by the calamity inflicted upon her opponent. Didn't seem to matter though, adrenaline and thousands of folks cheering your name was a heady combination, one that only grew more intoxicating when the redhead scrambled upright and dove halfway across the ring to TAG Cynthia's outstretched hand!
Mitchell was over the ropes in a trice and though she yearned to stomp a big ol' mudhole in Becky Clayton as soon as her feet touched the ground, the second generation superstar hooked a sharp right and hurled herself into the Psy Ops corner where she THWHAPPED a huge Dropkick offa Celia's chin! The startled Destroyer was knocked off the apron and backpedaled across the narrow aisle before coming to a stop when her lower back banged against the steel guardrail! Shaking her head clear in short order, the Temptress glared daggers at Cynthia but the brunette paid no notice as she'd already turned her attention to Becky, who'd only just started to rise in the aftermath of Ivy's colossal Double Stomp.
Approaching the penitent champ with only the worst of intentions, Mitchell skipped off the canvas, kicked her right leg up high overhead and brought that foot down full force between her opponent's shoulders! Bex grunted and reared back on her knees, which proved to be exactly the wrong choice because Mitchell snatched a handful of hair and proceeded to deliver half a dozen quick Kawada-style kicks to her penitent adversary's forehead.
BASEMENT AXE KICK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=75GNl_Xoz8g
It would've been more if Clayton hadn't let out a growl and swatted her attacker's foot aside en route to stuffing a heavy punch into her midsection. “Get the fuck offa me, loser.” she huffed to the challenger. “Long, when're you gonna make this bitch let go of my haRRRGGHHHH!”
The erstwhile official had been approaching for just such a remonstrance, unfortunately for Becky it hadn't yet left his lips when Cynthia yanked the brunette forward while simultaneously lifting her right leg high enough to brace the laces against Clayton's cheek. Just like that she STOMPED down to inflict a short, savage abrasion that earned raucous cheers from everyone but the ladies of Psy Ops!
“All right Cynthia, enough of that!” Craig shouted over the clamor. “Leggo of her hair and watch what you're scraping with those laces!”
Mitchell gave him a wink even as she tightened her grip on the other wrestler's hair. “Whatever you say, All Night!” Long grunted with obvious irritation, though this noise was lost amidst more cheers from the FAWNatics when Cynthia went up on tiptoe and dropped to all fours to THWHUNK Clayton's forehead into the canvas with resounding force!
Becky's head bounced away from the impact and she flopped over onto her back with Mitchell crawling after to go for a cover. But the opportunity was denied her at least for the moment as the One Woman Army promptly tumbled back to her stomach and rose to all fours. The Terrible Tar Heel reached for her adversary, then backed off and got to her feet instead. Positioned a little ways off of the other brunette's left side, Mitchell lined up her shot, then sprinted forward and laid out on her back while thrusting her right leg forward to THWHACK a scintillating Single Leg Dropkick against Clayton's temple!
BASEMENT SINGLE LEG DROPKICK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=gbhAvf8bSgA
Becky was knocked onto her back once again, though damned if she didn't sit up with one hand pressed to her aching skull almost immediately thereafter. But Mitchell wasn't gonna be denied, she forced the former World Champion down and slid into a snug Crossbody, the challenger making sure to grind the ridge of one forearm across Becky's jawline while she hooked the far leg for...
ONE...
TWO...
Clayton shoved her way loose half a heartbeat after 'TWO!'
Cyn huffed but didn't look too disappointed, she knew the Camouflage Crusher was obnoxiously resilient and even if she wasn't the challenger wasn't yet satisfied with the punishment doled out thus far. “On your feet, Private Buttercup.” Cynthia chided in the midst of dragging the woozy wrestler to boot-leather. “It's time you apologized to my friend for earlier shittiness.”
“I should... should be apologizing to your mothers.” Bex grunted. “If I'd taken the time to spank you both a little earlier in your careers, maybe you'd amount to something more than total disappointRRRRGGGHHHH!”
The Cyn-Ful One raked her opponent's eyes on general principle, then switched over to a perfectly legal Wristlock when Celia and the official squawked their complaints. Offering both a nod of feigned sympathy, Mitchell pointed her foe into the Hellions' corner and sent her on her way with an Irish Whip. Ivy saw her coming and deftly dropped off the apron in case Clayton had something unpleasant on her mind. She needn't have worried though, Becky only turned around to BWUNG against the buckles and sound of her accompanying grunt suggested she barely had the wherewithal to do that. Still, the Southern Charmer remained on the floor as Cynthia charged in and took to the skies in a low hop that culminated with both heels THWHUMPING against the waistband of her opponent's bottoms!
Clayton 'ooofffhed!' and doubled over in the buckles, then dropped onto her butt with an audible thump when Cynthia hooked a foot behind the breathless brunette's right ankle and tugged that leg out from underneath. The response from the crowd was as immediate as it was thunderous, the whole of the December crowd shooting to its feet as Cynthia turned around and grabbed the top rope in both hands.
“Help yourself to a tag as soon as Long starts to count.” the middle Mitchell advised her partner. “I'll keep Private Buttercup here occupied 'til then.”
Clayton didn't hear Armstrong's reply, she was too busy trying to catch her breath after that almost illicit Dropkick. “Duuuhhhh... don't even think about it, bitch.” she grunted at the challenger. “Keep that saggy shit the hell out of my MMMPPPPGGGHHHHHH!”
Never one to take orders very well, the former World Champion thrust her hips backward to give Clayton a huge faceful of domineering backside! And of course mere impact was only the beginning as Cynthia crouched deep and bounced in place while effortlessly scrubbing her glutes back and forth and up and down before settling into a taut little figure eight pattern that ensured minimal oxygen and maximum cheek to cheek humiliation!
Those assembled for tonight's show could've watched the tawdry spectacle continue until Mitchell burned up the last of her reserves, alas the struggling champion was in the ropes and it wasn't long before Craig Long hurried over to enforce the break. Of course Mitchell wasn't going to relent simply because he asked nice, she forced the man to start a count, at which point Ivy tagged herself in as previously agreed. Hopping over the strands while Cynthia continued to bump and grind, the 'Bama Slamma crossed a good three quarters of the squared circle, though she stopped short of the Psy Ops buckles in case the Crimson Cagliostro tried something untoward. Blassenville did not, though her expression said that the Hellions' offenses had been noted and filed away for future consideration.
Ivy favored the other redhead with a quick wink, then wheeled around and raced back the way she'd came. In a show of impeccable timing, Ivy took flight just as Craig reached 'FOUR!' on his count and Cynthia twisted away from the gasping, greasy-cheeked countenance of the Peacemaker. So grateful was Clayton to draw a deep, butt-free breath that she didn't notice Armstrong flying in, the Southerner's knees drawn up close to her chest until the moment she uncoiled to the full extent of her five foot eight inches to THWHACK a Hesitation Dropkick into Becky's sternum!
HESITATION DROPKICK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=HzJjUYmHc5I
Clayton shuddered from end to end on impact, but Ivy made no effort to prize her from the corner to go for a pin. Instead she scrambled to verticality and tagged Cynthia, who'd only returned to the apron a moment prior. Then she took hold of Becky's ankles and draaaaaaaaaaaaaagged her out into the middle of the ring for a proper return to boot-leather.
As for Mitchell, she slipped through the strands and hit the ropes directly in front of her partner and their target. With Armstrong sidled up on Clayton's left, Cynthia exploded off the ropes and went airborne as Ivy did the same. In the next instant the redhead hooked her right arm around Becky's head and cupped her chin while Mitchell leaned back and drilled her right foot into the champ's chin with another Single Leg Dropkick. Cynthia's strike was more than enough to knock the woozy Destroyer off her feet, though that didn't stop Armstrong from yanking back with all her might, the added momentum of the Leaping Russian Leg Sweep adding remarkable emphasis to the THAWHAM of the back of Clayton's skull striking the thinly-padded canvas!
BACK ROAD TO NOWHERE @ 00:16
www.youtube.com/watch?v=oAU0dyyRsqQ
Delighted by the roar of the throng as they sent Becky crashing down a Back Road to Nowhere, Ivy quickly rolled under the bottom rope to ensure there was no distracting Craig when Cynthia splashed down on the champ's chest and hooked the far leg for a count of...
ONE...
TWO...
THRNOOOO!
With Armstrong out of the ring, Celia had a clear shot at the middle Mitchell and she made most of the opportunity by THUMPING a huge kick into the brunette's ribs! Hands overhead as soon as the cover was broken, the Temptress looked ever so sorry for her actions as she retreated to the corner with Long following closely behind.
The cheap shot certainly hadn't felt great against her ribs, yet there was no denying Cynthia was still the fresher fighter when judged against her brunette opposition. “Should've told the psycho to stay in the corner.” Mitchell growled at Becky as she filled her hands with Clayton's hair and scraped her off the canvas. “Now I'm completely justified in dropping you on your face all over again.”
Drawing the One Woman Army into a Standing Headscissors, Cynthia slipped her arms under Clayton's biceps and jerked up to secure a Double Underhoo—NO! Still aware enough to know when the bottom was about to drop out of things, Bex went down on one knee and when Mitchell set to haul her back into place the BFG whipped the back of her skull into the juncture of the challenger's thighs!
That shot alone was enough to break Cynthia's grip, which in turn let Clayton slide clear of the dangerous predicament. Unfortunately for the challenger it did not balance the ledger as far as Becky was concerned, though it drew a great deal closer to even once the Camouflage Crusher crooked her right hand into a fist and THUMPED that forearm up into the North Carolinian's crotch! Neither Ivy or Craig saw the Low Blows, they only heard the crowd break into disgusted jeers as each returned to their respective places in the squared circle. What they did see was Clayton hooking her right arm beneath Cynthia's right thigh so she could brace that hand against the bendy-back's gulping tummy. From there Bex set her left hand against the small of Mitchell's back, then let out a roar as she surged to boot-leather and muscled the Cyn-Ful One high into the lights! Everyone save Cynthia seemed to cringe during that monstrous ascent and even the Temptress turned her head to the side in a little grunt of sympathetic anguish when Clayton THAWHAMMED her burden down on the deck with a massive One-Armed Powerbomb!
ONE-ARMED POWERBOMB @ 00:11
www.youtube.com/watch?v=DWbpuSJbkUg
Mitchell exploded into a boneless sprawl on contact with the canvas, but the former World Champion made no attempt to cover the vulnerable Southerner. Instead she flipped the hair out of her face and took a few deep breaths while she watched the downed brunette with narrow, angry eyes. “You put your ass in my face, Jan.” Clayton muttered after a moment's deliberation. “That's a level of disrespect I just can't toler--”
Raucous cheers from the Season's Beatings revelers when Cynthia raised a weary hand to flip off her Destroyer-class adversary! “Eat shit, buttercup.” she huffed. “I haven't begun to disrespect you yeNNNGGGHH!”
Becky lunged forward and STOMPED down hard on Mitchell's tummy, then did it again and made sure to twist her heel afterward! Helping herself to the other woman's hair when she sat up in the aftermath, Clayton dragged Cynthia to verticality and pulled her in close by sliding her right arm under the challenger's left bicep and hooking her left arm over Mitchell's right shoulder. Hands locked just beneath the nape of Cyn's neck, Bex dipped her knees before she popped her hips to send the Terrible Tar Heel soaring across the ring to THWHAM down flat on her back!
The Head & Arm Suplex put Mitchell a great deal closer to the Psy Ops corner, indeed Celia offered her hand to the redhead even though Clayton was already dragging the woozy Hellion to her knees. “Be with ya in just a sec, Doc.” she told Celia. “This one here needs a little more instruction. She's learning all the wrong lessons.”
The words were barely out of her mouth when Becky lashed out a quick Bitch Slap that paintbrushed the right side of Cynthia's face! Back to the hair-hold immediately thereafter, the Peacemaker powered Mitchell upright and reapplied the head & arm grip she'd used moments ago. Squeezing far harder than she really needed to, the Clayton backed up a couple steps only to put a great deal of distance between herself and the challenger with her second Suplex in barely a minute!
HEAD & ARM SUPLEX @ 1:08[/b]
www.youtube.com/watch?v=y5LkIGs3ybk
Mitchell landed with a resounding impact that bounced her into a slumped seat with one hand pressed to the back of her head and the other reaching for Ivy. The 'Bama Slamma stepped onto the bottom rope and leeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaned as far over the top rope as gravity would allow, but she was still a few feet shy of a legal tag to her partner. She was in fact still reaching when Becky stomped up from behind and snatched the brunette's head in both hands. Left hand palming the crown of Cynthia's skull while the right glommed onto her chin, Clayton set her feet wide and wrenched Mitchell's noggin at an angle that tested the limits of human anatomy.
NECK TWIST:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=NDI5KLX3oAM
Though the shadowy, shredded definition in her arms and shoulders confirmed Bex was exerting a great deal of force, she didn't ask Cynthia or the official for a submission. Instead she looked Ivy Armstrong dead in the eyes and said, “Tell her to tap out, Ivy. You worked your way up to this match once, you can do it again. You're not winning tonight, though. This brat's knobbly little head belongs to me and if she pisses me off I might twist a little too hard. So tell her to do the smart thing. Live to fight another day... unless you want to watch while I do what you never courrrrggghhhhhh!”
Mitchell had been scrabbling at the champ's wrists, now she crooked her left arm into a 'V' and ground the dagger of her elbow down into the toes of Clayton's boot. “There's your answer, sugah.” Ivy chided. “You can take all those threats and stuff 'em right up your--” she would've said 'ass' but the redhead grimaced alongside everyone else when Becky abruptly released the Neck Twist so she could rear back and THWHACK a vile Soccer Kick into the seated wrestler's spine!
Cynthia's back arched on impact, one hand instinctively shooting in the direction of her partner while the other tended to the worst of the hurt. And Armstrong reached back no question of that, but the Hellions were still a little too far apart, especially with the Camouflage Crusher lurking so close. Clearly unimpressed by Mitchell's show of tenacity, Clayton swatted the outstretched hand down, then grabbed a double handful of hair and dragged Cyn across the canvas before she pivoted around, the champ brazenly offering Armstrong her back as she wedged Mitchell's noggin between her thighs for a Standing Headscissors.
With Cynthia's vaunted backside pointed straight at the Psy Ops corner, Bex wrapped her arms around the bendy-back's waist and muscled her up onto her shoulders for a Powerbomb. Or rather, she set the other brunette in place for a Powerbomb, because instead of simply hurling her burden forward and down, Clayton rushed toward the far corner intent on slamming her prey into the thinly-padded steel turnbuckles—NOOO! Mitchell crossed her ankles tight, then torqued her hips to send Clayton flying headfirst toward the corner while the Terrible Tar Heel came down flat on her belly with nary a scratch!
Understandably excited by Cynthia's timely escape, that FAWNatics were entirely focused on her efforts to make it back across the squared circle before Becky or Celia could interject. However this single-mindedness meant that no one realized Becky had managed to grab hold of the second strand at the last possible second, thus avoiding the concussive collision with the turnbuckle. It did not prevent Celia from swatting her partner's shoulder and vaulting over the ropes in the same motion, the Crimson Cagliostro showing off some genuine Lightweight ups as she rushed down the oblivious Mitch—“CYNTHIA, DOWN!” Ivy shouted at the top of her lungs and Cyn obeyed without hesitation, meaning she avoided the Pump Kick Blassenville aimed at the back of her skull by scant inches!
Cursing as she skidded past the retreating brunette, Celia took a swipe at Ivy on general principle but Uriah's Finest dropped off the apron at the last possible second. Attention back on Cynthia in the span between heartbeats, the Temptress interrupted her foe's return to verticality with a heavy Kneelift to the sternum, then snatched hold of her hair and doubled her over to reapply the Headscissors Becky had used only moments prior. Arms locked around the brunette's midsection immediately thereafter, Celia muscled Cynthia up onto her shoulders to—“EERRRGGHH!”
Mitchell palmed the back of Blassenville's head in one hand so she could raaaaaaaaaake the Destroyer's eyes with the other! This rough treatment didn't actually free her from the Powerbomb stall, it did however send Celia stumbling backward far enough for the Middle Mitchell to SLAP hands with Ivy the instant the 'Bama Slamma skipped onto the apron!
Soon as she was legal Armstrong crooked her hands into talons and scored Blassenville from shoulders to lower back, a bit of catty nastiness that finally allowed Cynthia to squirm free of her attacker's shoulders! Helping herself to the Temptress' hair once she was back on the ground, Mitchell doubled her foe over and whipped her head back and forth to ensure the Mistress of Puppets wasn't thinking about Ivy until the other other redhead leapt onto the top rope and hopped off just as fast, Armstrong STAMPING her feet down between Celia's shoulders while Mitchell dropped to her butt to THAWHONK Blassenville's forehead into the deck courtesy a Sit-Out Facebuster! Cynthia slid away and pushed to her feet, leaving Ivy to roll Celia onto her back for a count of...
ONE...
TWO...
THRNOOOO!
The Temptress kicked out with half a second to spare, earning grumbles of disappointment from the FAWNatics, not to mention the Hellions.
Still, Cynthia was feeling much better after the near disaster of the Buckle Bomb. “Keep on her, Ivy!” she called after slipping through the ropes. “Those belts are coming with us tonight, I can feel HHHHHHRRRRGGGGHH!” In their efforts to dispatch the Crimson Cagliostro the challengers had lost track of the One Woman Army and this proved most costly for Cynthia when Clayton exploded outta nowhere to launch herself through the strands with a Spear that folded the brunette in half before THWHAMMING her to the floor only inches from the guardrail!
SPEAR THROUGH THE ROPES:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ob-xUH9rLSA
The unexpected offense left Becky wiped out too, meaning Ivy was the only woman upright at the moment, a condition of which she meant to take full advantage. Wrapping Celia's braid around one fist to better haul the other redhead to her knees, Armstrong balled her other hand into a fist and started to pwak-pwak-pwak-pwak a furious fusillade of punches into the penitent Destroyer's forehead. The brazenly closed fist brought a warning from Craig Long, but the former World Champ paid him no mind until he'd reached 'FOUR!' on his count. Only then did she raise her punchin' hand and crook that arm into a 'V' so she could THUNK the point her elbow between Blassenville's eyes! Celia reeled in the aftermath of the Bionic Elbow but she didn't go down, so Armstrong switched over to a perfectly legal grip on the other wrestler's ears and hauled her to—“OOOFFHH!”
The Temptress pounded a heavy right hand into the challenger's tummy, then slipped that arm through Ivy's strong stems and effortlessly muscled her up onto her shoulders in a Fireman's Carry! “Your efforts are valiant, Ms. Armstrong.” Blassenville huffed as she tromped to the middle of the ring. “But ultimately doomed, as are the efforts of all white micNGH!”
Armstrong jabbed an elbow into the side of her attacker's skull, then tagged on another so she could slip down Blassenville's back. Stuffing a Kneelift into Celia's gut to double her over, Ivy slipped her right arm under the Temptress' left bicep and clamped onto the back of her head in a simple Half Nelson. In the same instant she snatched a handful of hair and brought her left knee up to THWHUNK the bridge of Celia's nose!
HALF NELSON KNEELIFT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=80r12qYok1E
Blassenville was knocked flat by the blow, but sat up moments later, albeit with a clearly glassy sheen in her eyes. This didn't seem to bother Ivy at all, indeed she promptly resumed her control on the champ's braid so she could draaaaaaaaaaag her into the ropes nearest the Hellions' corner. “What's wrong, sugah?” Armstrong's tone was all 'bless your heart' malice as she grabbed the top rope and casually raised her right foot to STAMP on the prone battler's chest. “Looks like you're having a hard time catching your breath, you hyperventilatin' over losing those titles?” Blassenville started to answer, which was when the 'Bama Slamma shifted her foot up to the hollow of Celia's throat and dropped into a deep crouch!
Ivy's showy dominance earned a cheer of support from the FAWNatics even though it was technically an illegal choke. Long noted this and short order and, remembering how his last warning was ignored, went straight into a count that once again reached 'FOUR!' before Ivy cleared off with both hands raised. “Just giving her a taste of her own medicine, that's all.” Armstrong purred at the irritated zebra. “You know she and Clayton love stretchin' the rules, right?” Ivy didn't wait for him to answer, she wheeled around on one foot and sprinted into the ropes on the far side of the ring. Picking up even more speed as she bounced outta the strands, Armstrong charged right up to the edge and dropped into a low slide, the lithesome redhead lashing out with right leg to THAWHACK the Mistress of Puppets across the chest!
SOUTHERN WIZARD:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=85ZV_Ouq70E
Blown into a woozy stupor by the power of the Southern Wizard, Celia offered no complaint when Armstrong glommed onto both ankles and hauled her out to the middle of the mat and folded her into a domineering Matchbook, Ivy bracing her tush against Blassenville's upturned thighs for a count of...
ONE...
TWO...
THRENOOOOOOOO!
The Crimson Cagliostro didn't really kick out, rather she slopped over onto one side to spill Ivy off her perch with little more than a whisper to spare! “C'mon!” Armstrong scrambled to verticality to better snap at Craig Long. “That was three!”
“It was almost three.” the official corrected. “Maybe keep on her and next time it'll actually be three. And keep her out of the ropes!”
Ivy wasn't listening, she'd already returned her attention to Blassenville, which was a kind way of saying she was actively stomping a mud hole in the other redhead's ribs! Celia soaked them up as best she could, eventually turned onto her stomach and rose to all fours only for Uriah's Finest to hit her with a Double Axehandle to the nape of the neck! Digging her nails into Blassenville's hair to keep her from collapsing all the way back to the canvas, Armstrong hauled her up in stages, then stepped back and delivered a quick Toe Kick to fold the Destroyer over. Spinning around to catch a Three Quarters Facelock as Celia gasped for breath, Ivy drew her in close and—“OOFFFHH!”
The Temptress curled her right arm into a tire iron and THWHAPPED it across her attacker's tummy! Armstrong gasped but wouldn't abandon the Facelock so Blassenville hit her twice more, the final shot enough to dissolve the attempted Stunner entirely. Threading her left arm beneath the challenger's left bicep as soon as she was able, Celia cupped the back of Armstrong's noggin to complete the Half Nelson, then yanked the Southerner skyward and laid out flat on her belly to THAWHAM her against the canvas with a ring-shivering Half Nelson Slam!
HALF NELSON SLAM:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=P6ruCcsggVY
Ivy bounced to a seat on impact, an instinctive reaction that Blassenville choose to interpret as impertinence. “Your resilience is admirable, Ms. Armstrong. Indeed I'd wager it's the only quality you possess that your storied mother doesn't find entirely disappointing.” Celia murmured as she dropped into a deep crouch and palmed the seated wrestler's noggin in both hands. “I wonder if she'll bother searching for some other admirable trait when the resilience runs out or if she'll simply hitch herself to the Mitchell name once and for all.”
“Yuuuuhhh.... you've got no idea what you're talking about, sugah.” Armstrong reached back with both hands and grabbed onto Blassenville's wrists in an effort to prize free of disconcerting grip. “But if you don't shut up about my family I'll knock you the fuck WHOOAAAHH!”
The Temptress dipped into a deep crouch, then straightened up and lifted her hands high overhead in a swift, disturbing show of strength that hoisted the challenger back to verticality. Ivy's soles had barely touched the canvas when Celia curled her right hand into a fist and THUMPED a vicious body shot into the challenger's liver! Ivy went ghastly pale and folded over, she might've gone down on all fours if Blassenville hadn't straightened her up with a rough hand. “Legs failing you, Ms. Armstrong? Allow me.”
Ivy didn't want any of Celia's 'help', alas the issue was out of her hands as the Destroyer crouched down and wedged her head between Armstrong's thighs. Such a choice would've been suicidal against an Ivy more in control of her own faculties, but at the moment they were more showpiece than weapon. Not that this stopped the FAWNatics from 'ooohhhhing' in concern when Blassenville stood up and boosted Ivy high into the air courtesy the Electric Chair. With Uriah's Finest still far more aware of the anguish in her midsection than her current elevation, Celia moved her hands from Ivy's knees to her buns and tromped over to a neutral set of strands where she pushed up and forward while dipping her head, the Mistress of Puppets slinging Armstrong into a short free-fall that ended with her TWANGING throat-first across the top rope! Ivy's head snapped back and the rest of her followed, the challenger stumbling in fence-post holes as she tried to catch her breath after that blast from the Stun Gun. As for Celia, she turned around and ran the ropes to come back the way she'd came, her timing such that she arrived just as the 'Bama Slamma turned around and—THWHUMP!
PUMP KICK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=AY5brFRXIvw
The Pump Kick caught her flush in the chest and she went down hard, Armstrong desperately sucking wind as she tried to get off her back. She was still trying when Blassenville bent down and grabbed her by the shoulder-straps. “And so another worthy experiment draws to a close.” Celia murmured as she dragged Ivy upright just to bend her backward in a painful Inverted Facelock. “In the interest of full disclosure, I must confess I'm not yet sure which of you is holding the other back, but rest assured I'll let both of you know when my results will be publish--”
Cheers from those assembled as Cynthia dove under the bottom rope and scrambled to her fee—NO! Clayton caught Mitchell's right ankle at the last possible second and yanked it out from underneath! Catching hold of the other ankle as soon as Cyn crashed to the deck, the Camouflage Crusher sneered, “Not your turn yet, buttercup!” A single violent yank pulled Mitchell out of the ring, the limber brunette seeming to float for a moment in a sort of Reverse Splash that would've done considerable damage if she'd landed on an adversary and not the barely-padded floor.
Offering Clayton a single nod once the other Hellion was neutralized, Blassenville reached down with her free (right) hand and latched onto Armstrong's waistband at her right hip. Just like that she muscled Ivy upside down, the redheads snuggled in chest-to-chest and kept there via the Inverted Facelock and Blassenville relinquishing the trunks grip to hook her foe's right leg. Twisting around as soon as she'd controlled the leg, the Crimson Cagliostro made one and a half rotations before she shot up on tiptoes and dropped to a seat to THAWHAM the back of Armstrong's head and shoulders into the mat with resounding force!
GRIEF SPIRAL @ 00:06
www.youtube.com/watch?v=o010-0eY2Zw
Thoroughly consumed by the power of Blassenville's Grief Spiral, Ivy didn't even twitch when the redhead secured both her legs in a tight bundle and silently waited out the...
ONE...
TWO...
THREE!
Celia tossed those captured limbs aside and got to her feet as Becky returned to the ring, the ladies of Psy Ops exchanging a fist bump while the Announcer confirmed the results of tonight's experiment. “Ladies and gentlemen, your winners via pin-fall and STILL the FAWN Tag Team Champions... PSY OPS!”
“Deal with it, nerds!” Clayton barked to the jeering throng as she raised her golden prize to the rafters. “Actually, don't deal with it! Your trauma keeps us in business! Isn't that right, doc?”
Blassenville slipped her title around her waist and snapped it tight while keeping an interested eye on Ivy. “It's a little too gauche to put on a business card,” she opined, “but hardly incorrect. Noise equals outrage which equals engagement which equals more interesting results. It's when the mice get quiet that we may have to start worrying.”
“Oh, I don't think that'll be an issue.” Bex replied with a sinister smile. “They get quiet, we up the dosage. Voltage? Violence?”
The Mistress of Puppets actually laughed, a sound that chilled a good number of floor-seat FAWNatics.
“All three, Rebecca.” she replied. “All three.”