Post by hawkeye on Dec 31, 2023 3:36:42 GMT
The power pop of Tones and I’s Dance Monkey launches from FAWN Arena’s sound system.
The people pop to their feet, swaying as their raised arms flow from side to side. They’re joyous with the imminent arrival of the adorable Yellow Rose, the bubbly blonde member of the recently minted Dream Team, the Girl from Grapevine filling their wholesomeness quotient in full.
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=q0hyYWKXF0Q )
From stage right, the flaxen-haired fighter, growing more popular and more relevant as months pass, cheerily moves to center stage. What she lacks in experience, the fresh-faced grappler makes up for with an excess of energy and a sweet disposition to which the audience is drawn.
HEATHER CROFTON
Heather’s excitement and growing comfort in the spotlight is unmistakable, the babyface blonde bobbing in time with the catchy ditty.
Tonight, she’s on her own, without the perfect back-up of the legendary Lisa, but there isn’t a hint of trepidation.
The Texan spins through a pirouette and waves excitedly at the delighted devotees, a vision in canary yellow.
The two-piece gear includes spandex boy-cut trunks and a cross-shoulder top, the side of the shorts includes a window of criss-crossed strips. The outfit is completed with white pads and boots.
( i.imgur.com/4SRiQzy.jpg ) (without the snorkel gear and in yellow)
The rookie offers a brawny double-bicep pose but with a smirking hint of understanding her guns are small caliber. She prances down the aisle, bouncing from side to side, slapping hands, delighted with a further opportunity to show the fans what she can do and that her tag win over the Booty was no fluke.
In the last several strides, the cowgirl takes off in a sprint, sliding in under the bottom rope on her palms and knee pads. She pushes to her feet and waggles through several exuberant, hip-swiveling spins as her music slowly fades.
The Lone Star Girl backpedals to her corner as the ring announcer takes the opportunity to provide her introduction.
“Tonight’s next match is one fall with a 20-minute time limit. Fighting out of Grapevine, Texas. Standing 5’4” and weighing in at 122 pounds…Miss Mustang…Heather Crofton!”
The effervescent goldilocks leaps high, dropping into a set of splits, then spins an invisible lasso above her head with a raised right hand. Heather pumps a first at the crowd, drawing an ovation that grows when she maneuvers to a ball, kips to her feet, and climbs to the middle ropes of her corner, shouting “Let’s go, y’all. We gonna kick some Booty tonight!”
The throng responds with a feisty endorsement until all eyes turn to the stage above, expectations rising to see Crofton’s foe.
Kickpunch by Adam Warrock
www.youtube.com/watch?v=TXma0EkrrYQ
A pace-quickening beat pours through the speakers as the FAWNtron displays a chibi anime version of the BMD champion smashing bricks and fighting generic monsters. The entire time the name CASSAVA ONIKA blazes at the top of the screen in a stylized logo.
The short but curvaceous woman of Sri Lankan descent steps through the curtain, bouncing to the beat and holding up the gleaming Television title. The callipygian content creator is dressed for battle in a white tank top that shows a hint of belly button, and a red bra that’s visible through the thin fabric that keeps her F Cup breasts from flashing the fans as she bounces to and fro.
On her wide hips are a pair of pink booty shorts that seem painted on (and a size too small). She chooses to wrestle in bare feet like her hero Kylie Sanders once did, that worship clearly bleeding into her wardrobe and choice of hair dye (blonde with pink highlights).
CASSAVA ONIKA
At the top of the ramp, Cassava swings her hips into a turn that puts her back to the audience and presents an ass that makes LaKeisha Bates self-conscious whether she admits it or not. She performs a quick bump and grind to a rowdy and catcalling crowd; Cassava dips low and makes her cheeks clap to the suddenly roaring audience before making her way down to the ring, slapping hands along the way.
“FROM PLEASANT VALLEY, IOWA… SHE STANDS FIVE FEET, TWO INCHES TALL, AND WEIGHS IN TONIGHT AT ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-FIVE POUNDS… SHE IS THE WOMAN OF 1,000 HIP ATTACKS AND THE FIRST, CURRENT AND ONLY BUNS OF MASS DESTRUCTION CHAMPION, AND THE CURRENT TELEVISION CHAMPION....THIS IS CASSAVA ONIKA!!”
The Superfan is not only defending her newest gold, she’s looking to avenge the loss to The Dream Team from the last PPV. She let hero Kylie Sanders down and put an L on her record. If Crofton takes the TV title from her now, she’ll never be able to look the Platinum Pixie in the eyes again.
After nearly completing a circuit along the guardrail, Cassava looks in the ring to see Nick Castle, one of the organization’s most respected refs.
A cheeky grin spreads across her face. Practically skipping to the announcer, Onika cups his ear and whispers something then hands her belt over to the timekeeper, He chuckles and brings the microphone to his lips.
“Officiating the match will be FAWN Referee, Nick ‘MISTER BIG’ Castle!”
The air fills with laughter and applause as the black-and-white is taken aback. Nick looks between the giggling Cassava and the chortling Heather, the thousands in the arena playfully echo the official’s brand new moniker, ‘MIS-TER BIG! MIS-TER BIG! MIS-TER BIG!...’
Pleased as punch, Cassava jogs up the steel steps and enters the ring for her pre-match pat down. She smirks and tilts her head at the lightly blushing ref as he performs the search, ”Sorry, it’s my good luck charm.”
He finishes his search with a shrug, there’s no hard feelings. “Let’s just hope it works.”
At the bell’s toll, the fighters jog out of their corners into a spiraling lap of the ring, side-stepping to keep a ready stance as they eye each other up. Once they’re close enough, their hands dart and clasp in a quick but respectful two-pump handshake before separating, each balancing on the balls of their feet looking for the right angle for an opening salvo. Both champion and challenger are putting all their focus on victory.
Cassava and Heather come together in a contentious Collar and Elbow that has their chests and bellies rubbing. Unable to move Cassava more than a few feet before The Superfan surges back, Heather changes tactics, giving ground, letting Cassava walk into a Wristlock.
Feeling the many bones in her hand grinding against each other the TV champion flinches. Heather slips an ankle behind Onika’s plant foot and sweeps it away, putting Cassava on her back with a light thump.
“I’m taking your gold tonight, Cass. I’ll try not to be mean about it, but it’s going to happen.”
Heather hunches over to keep Cassava pressed to the ring floor as she works the Wristlock.
Nick Castle starts to lower for a 3-count but Cassava notices the spying zebra and raises a shoulder off the mat to prevent a sneaky count. She pulls her knees in and kips up with the power of her core alone.
Cassava grunts as she forces Crofton straight.
“Be as mean as you want, you’re going home empty handed!”
Onika lowers and squirms out of the submission, forcing her foe into a single leg takedown.
Crofton shifts in mid-air and lands facedown to prevent a pinfall attempt, but has the Superfan’s arms tight around her waist and the Mil Chocolate Mauler’s bare legs probing for a Grapevine split.
The Texan scurries to her knees and rises to her feet with Onika’s breasts pressing distractingly against her back. Heather pries at the knot of fingers below her navel, Cassava keeping the waistlock intact, “We’ll see about that, champ!”
Heather parts Onika’s hands and, in the same moment, she falls into a side roll, putting the dyed blonde’s spine on the pine once again while pulling her into a headlock so tight Onika’s ears pulse.
Nick nears for a potential count, but again Cassava forces herself and the Texan off the mat before he can become a factor. The Yellow Rose pumps the headlock, putting a shiver in Cassava’s thicc thighs, “You’ll get gold again. Once Lisa and I get the tag titles, I’m sure she’d be happy to give you and Kylie a shot. It’ll end the same way as last time, but a PPV spot is always a career boOOST!”
Cassava’s stronger than many in her weight class and Heather realizes as Kylie’s Number One Fan picks the blonde up around the waist and balances her on a shoulder as quick as a blink.
The challenger tries to flex out of the lock to bring them back to earth, but Cassava does it the hard way with a Back Suplex. The headlock evaporates and Heather tumbles away with a hand tight to her lower back. She stops on one knee in a corner gripping the bottom cable to prevent more grappling.
youtu.be/6t_J4nFO_b4?t=109
Cassava rolls back on her feet and turns away pointing a wide and shapely hip at the opposition.
“Don’t get cocky, Crofton. I haven’t even brought out the big guns yet,” She puts the period on that threat with a spank that sends a ripple through her meaty cheek.
Miss Mustang crinkles her cute nose in irritation and stands at her full height, not much but still two inches taller than the BMD/TV title holder.
“Same goes for you, Onika.”
Heather charges into the fray and snags the booty battler’s wrist before she can pull away. She spins and twists the limb into an Arm Wringer, forcing Cassava onto her toes then to double over when she gives it a yank.
“Hip Attacks will be all you can do when your arms are useless.”
Cassava turns her grimace into a smile, “I have a thousand of them, Hip attacks are all I need.”
She hops into the air performing a somersault at her apex. When Cassava lands her arm is untwisted but Heather’s is! The natural blonde finds their positions reversed with Heather slapping at her shoulder to alleviate the pain as Cassava drags her by the captured limb away from the ropes. “Everything else is just for style points.”
Onika achingly rotates Crofton’s shoulder in a circle before banging it against her shoulder coaxing a shout and shudder from her sweet opposition. The Superfan warns “Clench your teeth for this one!” She swings the arm again in a burst of motion to sling Crofton against the canvas with nose-breaking force.
CHASING PAVEMENTS
youtu.be/3B3ckzpS8BE?t=15
The jarring pain in her shoulder from Cassava’s yank makes the Yellow Rose’s instincts take over. Heather throws herself into a somersault like the champion did earlier, preventing a faceplant and turning it into a hard landing on her Texas-toned bum. It’s a big shock that travels up her tailbone, but it’s better than a knockout and a dislocated shoulder.
Heather bounces off her bottom with the recoil of the canvas and back onto her boots like her favorite Gummi Bear (her favorite retro cartoon).
Alarmed by the counter to one of her go-to moves, Cassava rushes over with a Clothesline, but Heather trips her up and tumbles with her foe, rolling Cassava into a Small Package!
ONE!
TWO!
Cassava bullies free of the pin with a second to spare and shoves Heather away. She jerks to all fours and whips her gaze to the ref.
Castle lifts two fingers, “Still in the game, Cass.”
The BMD sighs with relief. She pushes to her feet and turns her attention back to the slender, sinewy Texan. The adorable, athletic cowgirl is mid-sprint and leaps into a dropkick to Cassava’s bosom. Onika backpedals her way to the ropes, keeping her balance with their help.
The Superfan’s arms wrap around the top cable, halting her from bouncing back toward a rising Lone Star Girl. Again, Crofton charges her adversary, hopping to the middle rope with her left foot and raising her folded right leg high, THUMPING the bony cap into the chin of the Mauler. Onika’s noggin snaps back from the force of the impact and Heather pushes the punch-drink champion by, Cassava staggering to center stage, where she fights for her wavering balance.
Feeling confident, Lisa’s fellow Dream Teamer steps to the curves of the TV Champion. She draws back her right arm, pivoting to gain more momentum, and sweeps it in a big underhand loop, again CRUNCHING Cassava’s chin, this time with a wicked European Uppercut.
The bottom-heavy Booty Blaster again remains upright after the whiplash-inducing collision, Heather’s frustration at being unable to ground the Superfan evident.
With Cassava wobbling and glassy-eyed, the Yellow Rose races past Onika and vaults into the cables, her boots landing on the middle ropes as she grabs the top with both hands. Using the rubber-coated steel like a trampoline, Heather springboards off the ropes, spinning in a 180 toward the seemingly clueless Iowan with a Cowgirl Crossbody Splash.
But instead of being knocked off her boot soles, the curvy Cassava catches the flying Girl from Grapevine across her chest. The BMD might give up a step to recover her equilibrium, but once her stance is steadied, she holds the trapped and squirming Crofton in place and takes a circuit of the ring, showing off her catch.
Unable to flail loose, Miss Mustang is sent flying with a fallaway slam, the slender Heather soaring through the Orlando airspace courtesy the BMD.
Fallaway Slam ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z6-smmLerGo )
The momentum of the Yellow Rose sends her rolling out under the bottom rope and flopping to the arena floor.
Cassava’s curves jiggle in all their glory after she kips to her feet and raises an arm high, drawing cheers far and wide from Kylie’s Corps who, like their leader, have taken Cassava under their wing.
Disappointed to realize Heather’s not in the field of play, Onika walks to the apron’s edge to discover where her opponent has gone. A look of surprise covers her features as there’s no Lone Star Girl to be found.
The Corps in the front rows try to warn their favorite Superfan, Crofton’s crawled under the ring, but Onika remains confused by the lack of the Texan.
Popping out from under the apron ninety degrees removed from where she was last seen, Heather slides back in under the bottom rope and races to the confused Cassava from her six o’clock.
Leaping as she closes with her ass-tastic adversary, Miss Mustang lands in riding position atop Onika’s back and shoulders. The blonde’s arms snake under and around those of the Milk Chocolate Mauler, securing a full nelson on her foe. Heather’s ivory stems wrap around Cassava’s midsection in a scissors, Crofton further fortifying her position.
The TV champ reaches over her left shoulder, trying to find a handhold on the pesky blonde to toss her off, but the efforts are less than successful as Cassava stumbles around the ring. And when Heather switches her grip from a nelson to a sleeper hold, the cowgirl trying to cut off the blood supply to the Booty’s brain, it becomes much more important for Cassava to find an escape hatch before Crofton can put the BMD to bed early.
Unable to rip Heather off her back, Onika’s dark eyes become more vacant by the second, her balance uneven. Desperate to keep her title reign intact, Cassava turns her back, and Heather’s, to the nearest corner and shuffles in reverse into the thin padding of the buckles, SANDWICHING the Lone Star Girl between, pressing the Yellow Rose flat.
Still hanging on for dear life, though clearly rocked, Heather’s grip fades, arms falling limp to her sides when the BMD repeats the pressing process a second and third time.
After the trifecta, the crushed and sagging Texan only maintains verticality by tossing her arms over the top rope on either side of the corner and, when Cassava kicks Crofton’s rubbery legs out from under her, the taut, little behind of the blonde plops to the canvas, lithe but lifeless legs outstretched, head bobbling atop slumping shoulders.
A predatory grin emerges on the Booty Blaster. She jogs to the opposite set of buckles. Mocking the cowgirl with an imaginary swing of a lasso, the Mauler turns and races toward the slackjawed challenger with a Booty Bomb ready to explode, just one of her 1000 Hip Attacks.
1000 Hip Attacks ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=WZZrFjUAxS4 ) 2:54
The crowd groans in sympathy for Heather as she is destroyed by the full force of the biggest, baddest backside in the business.
A nodding Cassava grabs the demolished Lone Star Girl by the ankles and tugs her to center stage where she lets Heather’s limp legs flop to the mat. Cassava drops to a lateral press, hooking Heather’s listless left leg in a cradle for good measure for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
Crofton kicks out, barely scraping a shoulder off the canvas. But it’s enough for Castle to raise only two fingers and keep the battle for the belt undecided for the time being.
Cassava huffs for a moment but quickly gets back to the task at hand, rising to her feet next to a groaning Heather. As Crofton struggles to a seat, Onika sidles behind her foe and grabs the blonde’s arms at the wrists.
In dominating fashion, the Milk Chocolate Mauler steps an abbreviated but muscular leg over one outstretched arm of her adversary, then does likewise over the opposite, moving to a standing straddle over Heather’s head and shoulders.
The BMD closes her thicc thighs around Heather’s noggin, cinching a standing scissors tight, flexing her glutes to pour the pressure into Miss Mustang, Heather’s face turning rosy from the compressing power.
But Cassava’s not done. She releases her grips on the Texan’s wrists and dips forward to cross the blonde’s legs in a figure four, then yanks the straightened stem toward her in a vicious stump puller Tearing Heather A New One with her signature submission.
Tearing Her a New One ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=QHGsk3CAUtU )
Crofton howls in anguish as the TV champ works her foe’s lower limbs, throwing a little bump and grind into her scissors to rub in her revenge on the Girl from Grapevine for the Dream Team’s earlier tag win.
Finally, Cassava drops to her badass booty, piling Heather’s body atop her shoulders, using Crofton’s left leg as a handle to keep her foe down for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOO!
Somehow, the slippery Yellow Rose slinks loose of the pinning predicament with Castle’s hand a few inches off the canvas.
Onika admires Crofton’s persevering spirit. It’s a shame she doesn’t have the good taste to ditch that clearly still evil huckster, Lisa Dream, and join the enlightened ranks of the Kylie Corps.
Onika hauls Crofton to vertical status with the straps of her top.
“You’re a tough one Heather. Ever thought of changing your nickname to The Yellow Cactus?”
The double champ takes her by the wrist takes a big step back and buggywhips the Texan into the nearest corner. Onika’s obvious lower center of gravity and physical power have Heather moving too fast to turn, the padded turnbuckle feels unforgiving against her sternum and robs the challenger of her breath. She places her palms over her sore chest and takes shaky steps in reverse.
Heather may have collapsed to the canvas if not for Cassava pushing on her shoulders shepherding her back into the junction and forcibly turning Heather to face the ring. “A lot of Roses in pro wrestling, a Cactus would stand out.”
Cassava manipulates Heather’s arms behind the top ropes keeping them out of the way as she rears back her right fist and turns into a hefty Forearm shot to the Dream Teamer’s cheek. With her prey rocked, Cassava climbs onto the middle cable to Heather’s left then turns and stretches her right left foot onto the middle cable to Heather’s right.
The languishing Lone Star Girl tilts her head over the top buckle with a protesting moan when the Buns of Mass Destruction brush against her face, but resistance is futile… The BMD crouches to grip the top ropes as she thrusts back her dangerous derriere against Crofton’s features and scrubs like she’s washing the dishes.
A riled and rowdy crowd hoots and hollers as Crofton stomps her feet and wriggles helplessly against Onika’s highly trained Badonkadonk. The Yellow Rose is bubbling with indignation, however, the worst is yet to come. What starts as muffled, angry protests from the challenger turn into half-smothered wailing when Onika stops scrubbing and turns those meaty cheeks into buns of steel. To be specific, a steel vice on Heather’s that feels like Bridget Stroud’s practicing her Clawhold!
PENTHOUSE BREAKFAST (HIP ATTACK 453)
i.imgur.com/pdh0Sts.mp4
Referee Nick Castle is well aware of the unwritten rules in FAWN when it comes to ‘fun’ in the corners and gave the champion some discretionary seconds at the beginning. But when Onika puts the pressure on and has Heather screaming through Cake he starts a count, “One! Two! Three! Four!”
Onika’s gold-bearing glutes relax and let the junior half of The Dream Team slip from between her cheeks and sag against the buckles with a sigh of relief. Cassava nods conciliatorily at Nick’s request to take it out of the corner while she repositions on the middle ropes to tummy up on her opposition.
“Be out in one sec, Nick.”
She puts her hands on the back of Heather’s neck and tenses her legs for a Springboard Hurricanarana that’ll turn the Texan into a tumbleweed. But Heather isn’t as helpless as she appears. Miss Mustang grabs Cassava’s left arm and pulls on it as she escapes between the Superchamp’s stems. The unexpected tug on her wrist drags Cassava’s head into a sudden and unpleasant meeting with the top buckle.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=lZxOanfdRN0
The Iowan’s skull bumps off the leather-padded steel and has Cass seeing stars. She lashes out her right hand and grabs the top rope to keep from falling but her left is still Heather’s possession. Miffed about the ass-based offence she suffered, Heather works the limb like a rope in a bell tower, jerking on it to bang the booty battler’s head over and over against the turnbuckle. A Pavlovian response triggers in the FAWNatics and they start an echoing count.
ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! SIX! SEVEN! EIGHT!
Rather than follow tradition and go for a nice ten-spot, Heather lets go of Cassava’s now limp arm and shoves her on the offending cheeks into a slump over the corner post.
Heather hefts each of Cassava’s legs over the top rope so the Kylie-stan is sitting uncomfortably on the thin piece of metal connecting the post to the turnbuckle. Heather climbs up to join her groggy frenemy, stepping over the top cables to balance on the second ropes as she secures a Waistlock.
The Lone Star Girl bears down on Onika’s middle squeezing out a groan like toothpaste from a tube, stirring The Superchamp to straighten up, Crofton puts her lips to Onika’s ear, “I wish I could think of something more clever, but to be succinct I’m tired of you putting your butt in my face!”
Crofton throws herself back and launches Onika with a German Suplex. Crofton hangs in the corner by the pits of her knees as the champion flies across the ring like a boulder fired from a catapult and lands just as heavy on her upper back. Cassava bounces off the mat onto her front with a painful flop. That roller coaster of a Suplex put some kinks in the Youtuber’s spine yet it seems to act like a shot of coffee for Cassava; she’s quickly picking herself off the canvas and willing her eyes to see straight.
OOOHHH!
And gets turned inside out by a Diving Clothesline that hits her right in the teeth.
youtu.be/1l0q6eaFwAY?t=64
Heather leaps from the high-rent district and thwaps![i/] Cassava against her lips with her small but powerful bicep. The champ is blown into a spin cycle that stops harshly with a matchbook, Cassava narrowly avoids a concussion from her knees, they graze her cheekbone with the leftover momentum and leave her ankles by her ear. Heather throws herself atop the champion’s upturned, quivering haunches and pushes down on Cassava’s calves to keep her in a tight ball throughout the official’s count.
ONE!
TWO!!
THRNOOO!!!
Cassava bucks onto her side, dislodging Heather and keeping her Television Title for at least three more seconds.
Heather was so close to singles gold she tasted it. She double-checks with the ref just in case there’s a miscommunication, but he throws up the dreaded peace sign, “Two. The match is still on.”
The Yellow Rose nods glumly but determined and shoves off the mat to stand, joining Cassava who somehow beat her to verticality despite wavering with the light breeze from the air conditioning. Cassava’s giving up her back to the challenger and Heather takes advantage by coming from behind and reaching under The BMD’s arms to take Cassava’s left wrist in her right hand and vice-versa, drawing them tight against the champion’s form.
Heather keeps the offence rolling with a small grunt of exertion as she raises the dyed blonde up and over and into the mat with a ring-shaking Suplex that’ll make Wendy Smith proud.
STRAIGHT-JACKET SUPLEX
www.youtube.com/watch?v=WnW_grFxXY4
Heather releases her hooks letting Onika unspool onto her hands and knees as she Kips up and sprints for the ropes ahead. The anguished ASSassain pushes up on shaking arms trying to regroup and fight back against the tides of this Crofton-Run. She takes in a breath mentally picturing her idol Kylie Sanders overcoming similar situations as she rises onto a knee and gets blasted in the face with Heather’s knee when she comes flying back like an adorable but merciless angel.
MY GAWD
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Tk3FDvdezo
Cassava’s blown flat on her back with her arms above her head, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as she looks up googly-eyed at Heather standing above her.
The Dream Teamer explains as she shakes out her attacking leg, “I said I’ll TRY not to be mean about taking the title, but that wasn’t a guarantee.”
Heather dips and surrounds Cassava’s head with both hands. She pulls the rubbery Milk Chocolate Mauler to a stooped stance and inserts her foe’s head between her thin (non-thicc) thighs. The Lone Star Girl clamps down with a standing head scissors as a murmur grows within the sellout crowd. Would she really?
“Remember. You brought this on yourself,” Crofton says.
The baby-faced blonde raises the flattened palm of her right hand high, drawing a raucous round of cheers from the crowd, the masses ready for her to play some butt-bongos.
And the junior member of the Dream Team takes to Lisa’s Bittersweet Symphony like a duck to water, swatting spank after blistering spank across Cassava’s abundant backside, THWAPPING her hands to booty time and time again. After a dozen, the crowd loses count.
Onika squirms with the stinging connections, the slaps delighting the fickle crowd.
Below, the BMD is seemingly less happy, features twisting in pain as the number grows, face turning rosy from the pressure of the scissors and the embarrassment shown her and her glutes, though those looking closely might see a hint of excitement at being Symphonized like her idol as part of Kylie’s less glorious portion of her past.
The growing pins and needles on her cheeks inspiring her to action, Cassava wraps her arms around Heather’s legs and uses her strength to rise and flip the Yellow Rose into a back body drop. But the athletic Crofton manages to rotate through to land on her feet.
Seamlessly, the Texan is off like a shot to the ropes, rebounding off the cables as the wincing Superfan rubs at her scrub brushes. Taking off from several feet out, Heather launches into a dropkick, planting her boot soles to Cassava’s delectable derriere.
The dyed blonde lurches forward, stumbling toward the ropes in front of her, ending on her knees as she reaches them, her arms and head leaning over the middle strand.
Seeing Onika’s position, Miss Mustang kips to her feet and heads for the opposite ropes for momentum. She u-turns out of those cables, racing for her target. Heather grabs the top rope as her body slips between the strands and sweeps around, her feet NAILING the Mauler in the bosom with a 469.
469 ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=NH-o9U8G7-4 ) 2:45
Cassava flops away in a back somersault, ending on her chest in the middle of the ring, body motionless save the soft swell of her chest.
Heather hustles to the nearest set of buckles and nimbly climbs to the top, turning to face her splayed foe. Onika absently rolls to her back to gather her bearings. It’s a potentially match-fatal mistake as Crofton launches into the stratosphere in a Shea London-worthy leap landing her Don’t Mess With Texas 450 Splash across the ample chest of the curvy Cassava.
Don’t Mess With Texas ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=uJlgiClk4p4 )
The adorably rowdy Texan gathers then hooks the BMD’s far leg to capture the Television Title with Long’s…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
There are as many groans of disappointment from those favoring the endearing Dream Teamer as there are sighs of relief from the Kylie Corps.
Showing Sanders-like determination, Cass threw a shoulder up with a split-second to spare and again Heather’s left to wonder what she must do to finish off the Superfan turned Superchamp.
A kneeling Crofton sweeps her blonde locks off her face and gets back to work, grabbing Cassava by the left wrist and shoulder and hauling the Mauler up as she rises next to Onika.
Plucking the champ’s near leg off the deck and slipping her head under Cassava’s near arm, the anticipation in the crowd grows as they ready to see The Booty’s night come to an end with the Texas Tornado.
Texas Tornado ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=AYQacdoLnEM ) :26
But before Heather can turn the page on Cassava, Onika throws her hip into the taut midriff of the blonde, short circuiting the Girl from Grapevine’s plans. Freed from Heather’s grip, the BMD tuns and delivers a toe kick to Crofton’s already churning tummy, leaving her foe bent and breathless.
The Milk Chocolate Mauler slides behind the gasping Heather. She snatches Crofton’s left arm and tugs it between the ivory legs of the Yellow Rose, then bends Heather’s body to the side and underhooks the blonde’s topside arm, securing a pumphandle grip.
Grabbing a handful of yellow spandex on Heather’s hip, the power-packed Kylie shipper pops the wide-eyed Lone Star Girl up to her bountiful bosom, then drops to one knee, bringing Heather’s spine down across the plank of her upper leg, threatening to dislodge Crofton’s vertebrae. The crowd groans in sympathy pains.
Pumphandle Backbreaker ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=ebkuBgtKlfc&list=PLeRPsdtvusXikFAlFp0SFvMOT6E8kSips&index=19&t=76s ) 1:20
But Cassava’s not done. With Heather draped over her raised knee, she pays back Crofton’s Bittersweet Symphony with a tune of her own, slapping Heather’s arched and open belly with gusto, leaving the blonde’s abused abs pink from a dozen right-lefts with her open hands. Finally, she shoves the grimacing Heather off to curl in a fetal ball, whimpering in stinging pain from the two-pronged attack to back and front.
Cassava pulls Heather out of her shell, yanking the wincing blonde to her feet.
“Know what else you shouldn’t mess with, Texan? My ass!” Onika informs.
The Mauler bullies Crofton into a backpedal to the nearest corner. She takes hold of the right wrist of the Yellow Rose and heaves her across the canvas with an Irish Whip. The blonde zooms through the expanse, spinning into a heavy, back-first collision with the buckles. The power of the impact shuts the ‘power’ off to Heather’s stems and she plops to her taut little tush, legs extended, head on a bobble.
No clearer invitation need be made for the champ. The BMD races across the ring and, from short range, she leaps into a potentially concussive hip check to the face that leaves Heather on Dream Street, reclining into the bottom buckle with a vacant look in her eyes.
Grabbing the waylaid Heather by the ankles, Cassava drags the dazed Girl from Grapevine to dead center.
The BMD moves to a standing straddle of the starfished Crofton and drops a booty bomb into the welts evident on the blonde’s tummy. The blast of the bomb sends every bit of oxygen out of Heather’s lungs. Onika slips her arms around the back of a jackknifing Heather’s knees and leans forward, matchbooking the gasping Lone Star Girl for the…
ONE…
TWO…
The entirety of Heather’s body flexes to sit up under the Superchamp’s weight, reversing their positions to put Onika’s shoulders on the mat!
ONE…
TWO…
Onika lurches up with bared teeth making them move like the oddest seesaw to put Heather back into pin position.
ONE…
TWO…
The Lone Star Girl shows that Texas spirit and bucks up as she forces Cassava back down, she leans in hard putting the champ’s legs from 90 degrees to almost a matchbook pin at 45. The referee’s hand is getting sore from the rapid near-falls but he powers through and raises his hand for the next count- Cassava Claps her thighs on Crofton’s ears and backrolls out of her grasp and onto her feet while the blonde’s discombobulated. Cassava’s hot-blooded and feeling the cusp of Victory, she waves Crofton up urgently yelling “Come Ooon!!” Heather never backs down from a challenge even when her head is spinning! She labours to stand with fists clenched, “It’ll take more than your ass to put me-!”
Thwack!
Cassava spins with the speed of a Class 5 hurricane and crashes her heel against Heather’s cheekbone with a Back Roundhouse Kick to the cheek that fells The Yellow Rose like a yellow tree.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=PZxMeZ7ua6w
Heather collapses with her arms spread out like she was flopping on her bed after a long day and not kicked in the face in front of thousands of people on Pay Per View. Cassava baseball slides next to Heather and throws herself over the Dream Teamer in a North/South pin, smushing the challenger’s lips against her navel as she bears her weight down.
Cas grinds her chin against Heather’s midsection as the ref lowers, “I told you I had style, didn’t I?”
ONE!
TWO!!
TH-Kickout!
Heather displays Perfect fortitude and gets a shoulder up in the nick of time! She bucks onto her right side, jostling Onika onto one knee.
The Superchamp’s still lying atop the little Bronco with her cheek on Heather’s hip looking dumbstruck. Onika mutters to herself, “What do I have to do to put you down?”
She gets up and puts her hands on her hips, paces back and forth a few feet while looking down at the addled challenger. Heather’s trying to get up, but her quivering limbs can’t seem to get the message, it takes a few attempts just to get off her elbows to all fours.
Something in her foe’s struggle turns on a light in Cassava’s mind; memories of unfortunate wrestlers being booked against her other hero (and hopefully, future wife) Emily West, and being done in by her brilliantly named Brainbuster called Cerebral Hemorrhage. She giddily grins, “I can't believe I haven't done this yet!”
Eager to perform The Black Queen’s finisher. The’ FAWN Finds’ host tries to help Crofton to her feet with a Front Facelock but finds her weight more dead than alive. Struggling to get the natural blonde off her knees, she throws Crofton’s arm over her neck and grabs her shorts by the waistline. “Come on now Heather…” Cassava grunts as she slowly gets the challenger on wobbly stems. “Don’t make me do a ‘wilting’ jokeUGH!!”
The bicep of Heather’s free arm bangs into Cassava’s chin with a European Uppercut! Cassava’s teeth clack together as her head whiplashes from the sudden blow. Heather swivels away from The Superchamp as her attacking arm snares Onika’s bobbling noggin in a Three-Quarters Facelock. The FAWNatics blow up in the stands when Miss Mustang brings up her right leg high, they know what’s coming! Crofton scythes her leg down and falls sharply onto her stomach, slamming the top of Cassava’s skull into the hard ring floor.
DAYDREAMER
www.youtube.com/watch?v=z9NAuAx2GM0
Cassava balances on her head for an almost comedic length of time before gravity takes hold and she falls lifelessly to the mat. Face up with her mouth hanging slightly open and her chest swelling with each breath. Heather held some moves taught by her mentor Lisa Dream in reserve until the Perfect moment, but would it be enough?
Heather certainly hopes so! Dead tired, she crawls over and settles on the prone Kylie-Stan’s heaving chest in a Back Press cover.
ONE!
TWO!!
THRENOOOO!!!
The double champion spurs to life and rolls onto her front under a buffaloed Crofton.
It’s such a close call some fans prematurely cheer and stand up in their seats thinking they’ve just witnessed a title change.
Heather clutches at her sweat-soaked golden hair and looks at the ref with quiet desperation, “Are you sure?”
Nick Castle tilts his head forward and reaffirms his call, “Yeah. sorry Crofton. The timer’s still going.”
She nods, only half-listening as she racks her brain for what to do next. She feels Cassava stirring below and rises to her feet. Heather gazes around the ring looking for inspiration and realizes their positioning. The BMD’s currently a few feet from the ropes and facing away from them, woozily pushing up to all fours. Everything’s in place for the second move Lisa Dream’s imparted from her repertoire.
DREAMSICLE
youtu.be/ZlwDduTQL3c?t=52
Heather has her eyes locked on the unaware Onika while she outstretches her arm and swings it in bigger and bigger circles, chirping “This’ll be the one!”
When Onika gets on her rickety feet Heather retreats into the cables and bursts forth like a blonde rocket. Miss Mustang’s arm is on a beeline for the back of The Superchamp’s head like a reaper’s scythe- and misses! Cassava bends at the waist letting Heather whiff past her, the tenacious Texan almost falls over with her momentum but rights herself and whirls around for a Clothesline.
Crack!
Crofton’s spit flies from her mouth as her head violently whips to the side from a Spinning Back Fist from the booty battler.
Heather used a move from Dream so Cassava borrows a signature from her good friend, Kanako Akiyama. The challenger’s still standing, but Crofton’s eyes are looking in two directions.
“I can get mean too, honey.” Cassava bends over and forcefully puts her head between The Yellow Rose’s stems as she grips her behind the knees. The Milk Chocolate Mauler straightens up dangling Crofton behind her back, “The difference is my mean is championship level.”
What Heather sees is the endless landscape of pink that’s actually Cassava’s shorts up close. Then she feels an abrupt change in elevation, next there’s a sharp pain, then nothing at all. Only darkness. What the audience sees is Cassava rising onto her tippy toes and then plummet onto her haunches, spiking Heather’s head into the canvas with an Axe Guillotine Driver!
UPSIDE DOWN CAKE
www.youtube.com/watch?v=8j3J-wXRRjk
Cassava can feel the impact of Crofton hitting the ring travel up the Dream Teamer’s body and through her legs where the Superfan is holding her. Cassava lets the demolished Miss Mustang flounder to the mat, and from there it’s the slightest scootch backwards into a front facesit. The ASSassain finds Crofton’s wrists and holds them down as Nick Castle baseball slides in and counts the…
ONE…
TWO…
And the THREE!.
DINGDINGDING!!
The triumphant Cassava Onika dismounts her defeated opponent’s face at the first chime of the bell. But she does rock a double bicep pose as she angles over, so she can press her shin against Heather’s cheek and smoosh her face into the canvas.
She wants to be friends after this, but what’s the point of being the TV Champion if you can’t posterize a chick?
The younger half of the Dream Team is Cassava furniture for half a minute when Castle comes over with the successfully defended title belt. Cassava gets off the mat and her opponent with a helping hand from the official and is passed the gleaming treasure. She leans down to the insensate Heather and slaps the faceplate of the belt.
“If you ever want to give this another go, I’m ready any time. And If Lisa wants to try her hand, I want you to describe to her just how delicious my cake is.”
The people pop to their feet, swaying as their raised arms flow from side to side. They’re joyous with the imminent arrival of the adorable Yellow Rose, the bubbly blonde member of the recently minted Dream Team, the Girl from Grapevine filling their wholesomeness quotient in full.
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=q0hyYWKXF0Q )
From stage right, the flaxen-haired fighter, growing more popular and more relevant as months pass, cheerily moves to center stage. What she lacks in experience, the fresh-faced grappler makes up for with an excess of energy and a sweet disposition to which the audience is drawn.
HEATHER CROFTON
Heather’s excitement and growing comfort in the spotlight is unmistakable, the babyface blonde bobbing in time with the catchy ditty.
Tonight, she’s on her own, without the perfect back-up of the legendary Lisa, but there isn’t a hint of trepidation.
The Texan spins through a pirouette and waves excitedly at the delighted devotees, a vision in canary yellow.
The two-piece gear includes spandex boy-cut trunks and a cross-shoulder top, the side of the shorts includes a window of criss-crossed strips. The outfit is completed with white pads and boots.
( i.imgur.com/4SRiQzy.jpg ) (without the snorkel gear and in yellow)
The rookie offers a brawny double-bicep pose but with a smirking hint of understanding her guns are small caliber. She prances down the aisle, bouncing from side to side, slapping hands, delighted with a further opportunity to show the fans what she can do and that her tag win over the Booty was no fluke.
In the last several strides, the cowgirl takes off in a sprint, sliding in under the bottom rope on her palms and knee pads. She pushes to her feet and waggles through several exuberant, hip-swiveling spins as her music slowly fades.
The Lone Star Girl backpedals to her corner as the ring announcer takes the opportunity to provide her introduction.
“Tonight’s next match is one fall with a 20-minute time limit. Fighting out of Grapevine, Texas. Standing 5’4” and weighing in at 122 pounds…Miss Mustang…Heather Crofton!”
The effervescent goldilocks leaps high, dropping into a set of splits, then spins an invisible lasso above her head with a raised right hand. Heather pumps a first at the crowd, drawing an ovation that grows when she maneuvers to a ball, kips to her feet, and climbs to the middle ropes of her corner, shouting “Let’s go, y’all. We gonna kick some Booty tonight!”
The throng responds with a feisty endorsement until all eyes turn to the stage above, expectations rising to see Crofton’s foe.
Kickpunch by Adam Warrock
www.youtube.com/watch?v=TXma0EkrrYQ
A pace-quickening beat pours through the speakers as the FAWNtron displays a chibi anime version of the BMD champion smashing bricks and fighting generic monsters. The entire time the name CASSAVA ONIKA blazes at the top of the screen in a stylized logo.
The short but curvaceous woman of Sri Lankan descent steps through the curtain, bouncing to the beat and holding up the gleaming Television title. The callipygian content creator is dressed for battle in a white tank top that shows a hint of belly button, and a red bra that’s visible through the thin fabric that keeps her F Cup breasts from flashing the fans as she bounces to and fro.
On her wide hips are a pair of pink booty shorts that seem painted on (and a size too small). She chooses to wrestle in bare feet like her hero Kylie Sanders once did, that worship clearly bleeding into her wardrobe and choice of hair dye (blonde with pink highlights).
CASSAVA ONIKA
At the top of the ramp, Cassava swings her hips into a turn that puts her back to the audience and presents an ass that makes LaKeisha Bates self-conscious whether she admits it or not. She performs a quick bump and grind to a rowdy and catcalling crowd; Cassava dips low and makes her cheeks clap to the suddenly roaring audience before making her way down to the ring, slapping hands along the way.
“FROM PLEASANT VALLEY, IOWA… SHE STANDS FIVE FEET, TWO INCHES TALL, AND WEIGHS IN TONIGHT AT ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-FIVE POUNDS… SHE IS THE WOMAN OF 1,000 HIP ATTACKS AND THE FIRST, CURRENT AND ONLY BUNS OF MASS DESTRUCTION CHAMPION, AND THE CURRENT TELEVISION CHAMPION....THIS IS CASSAVA ONIKA!!”
The Superfan is not only defending her newest gold, she’s looking to avenge the loss to The Dream Team from the last PPV. She let hero Kylie Sanders down and put an L on her record. If Crofton takes the TV title from her now, she’ll never be able to look the Platinum Pixie in the eyes again.
After nearly completing a circuit along the guardrail, Cassava looks in the ring to see Nick Castle, one of the organization’s most respected refs.
A cheeky grin spreads across her face. Practically skipping to the announcer, Onika cups his ear and whispers something then hands her belt over to the timekeeper, He chuckles and brings the microphone to his lips.
“Officiating the match will be FAWN Referee, Nick ‘MISTER BIG’ Castle!”
The air fills with laughter and applause as the black-and-white is taken aback. Nick looks between the giggling Cassava and the chortling Heather, the thousands in the arena playfully echo the official’s brand new moniker, ‘MIS-TER BIG! MIS-TER BIG! MIS-TER BIG!...’
Pleased as punch, Cassava jogs up the steel steps and enters the ring for her pre-match pat down. She smirks and tilts her head at the lightly blushing ref as he performs the search, ”Sorry, it’s my good luck charm.”
He finishes his search with a shrug, there’s no hard feelings. “Let’s just hope it works.”
At the bell’s toll, the fighters jog out of their corners into a spiraling lap of the ring, side-stepping to keep a ready stance as they eye each other up. Once they’re close enough, their hands dart and clasp in a quick but respectful two-pump handshake before separating, each balancing on the balls of their feet looking for the right angle for an opening salvo. Both champion and challenger are putting all their focus on victory.
Cassava and Heather come together in a contentious Collar and Elbow that has their chests and bellies rubbing. Unable to move Cassava more than a few feet before The Superfan surges back, Heather changes tactics, giving ground, letting Cassava walk into a Wristlock.
Feeling the many bones in her hand grinding against each other the TV champion flinches. Heather slips an ankle behind Onika’s plant foot and sweeps it away, putting Cassava on her back with a light thump.
“I’m taking your gold tonight, Cass. I’ll try not to be mean about it, but it’s going to happen.”
Heather hunches over to keep Cassava pressed to the ring floor as she works the Wristlock.
Nick Castle starts to lower for a 3-count but Cassava notices the spying zebra and raises a shoulder off the mat to prevent a sneaky count. She pulls her knees in and kips up with the power of her core alone.
Cassava grunts as she forces Crofton straight.
“Be as mean as you want, you’re going home empty handed!”
Onika lowers and squirms out of the submission, forcing her foe into a single leg takedown.
Crofton shifts in mid-air and lands facedown to prevent a pinfall attempt, but has the Superfan’s arms tight around her waist and the Mil Chocolate Mauler’s bare legs probing for a Grapevine split.
The Texan scurries to her knees and rises to her feet with Onika’s breasts pressing distractingly against her back. Heather pries at the knot of fingers below her navel, Cassava keeping the waistlock intact, “We’ll see about that, champ!”
Heather parts Onika’s hands and, in the same moment, she falls into a side roll, putting the dyed blonde’s spine on the pine once again while pulling her into a headlock so tight Onika’s ears pulse.
Nick nears for a potential count, but again Cassava forces herself and the Texan off the mat before he can become a factor. The Yellow Rose pumps the headlock, putting a shiver in Cassava’s thicc thighs, “You’ll get gold again. Once Lisa and I get the tag titles, I’m sure she’d be happy to give you and Kylie a shot. It’ll end the same way as last time, but a PPV spot is always a career boOOST!”
Cassava’s stronger than many in her weight class and Heather realizes as Kylie’s Number One Fan picks the blonde up around the waist and balances her on a shoulder as quick as a blink.
The challenger tries to flex out of the lock to bring them back to earth, but Cassava does it the hard way with a Back Suplex. The headlock evaporates and Heather tumbles away with a hand tight to her lower back. She stops on one knee in a corner gripping the bottom cable to prevent more grappling.
youtu.be/6t_J4nFO_b4?t=109
Cassava rolls back on her feet and turns away pointing a wide and shapely hip at the opposition.
“Don’t get cocky, Crofton. I haven’t even brought out the big guns yet,” She puts the period on that threat with a spank that sends a ripple through her meaty cheek.
Miss Mustang crinkles her cute nose in irritation and stands at her full height, not much but still two inches taller than the BMD/TV title holder.
“Same goes for you, Onika.”
Heather charges into the fray and snags the booty battler’s wrist before she can pull away. She spins and twists the limb into an Arm Wringer, forcing Cassava onto her toes then to double over when she gives it a yank.
“Hip Attacks will be all you can do when your arms are useless.”
Cassava turns her grimace into a smile, “I have a thousand of them, Hip attacks are all I need.”
She hops into the air performing a somersault at her apex. When Cassava lands her arm is untwisted but Heather’s is! The natural blonde finds their positions reversed with Heather slapping at her shoulder to alleviate the pain as Cassava drags her by the captured limb away from the ropes. “Everything else is just for style points.”
Onika achingly rotates Crofton’s shoulder in a circle before banging it against her shoulder coaxing a shout and shudder from her sweet opposition. The Superfan warns “Clench your teeth for this one!” She swings the arm again in a burst of motion to sling Crofton against the canvas with nose-breaking force.
CHASING PAVEMENTS
youtu.be/3B3ckzpS8BE?t=15
The jarring pain in her shoulder from Cassava’s yank makes the Yellow Rose’s instincts take over. Heather throws herself into a somersault like the champion did earlier, preventing a faceplant and turning it into a hard landing on her Texas-toned bum. It’s a big shock that travels up her tailbone, but it’s better than a knockout and a dislocated shoulder.
Heather bounces off her bottom with the recoil of the canvas and back onto her boots like her favorite Gummi Bear (her favorite retro cartoon).
Alarmed by the counter to one of her go-to moves, Cassava rushes over with a Clothesline, but Heather trips her up and tumbles with her foe, rolling Cassava into a Small Package!
ONE!
TWO!
Cassava bullies free of the pin with a second to spare and shoves Heather away. She jerks to all fours and whips her gaze to the ref.
Castle lifts two fingers, “Still in the game, Cass.”
The BMD sighs with relief. She pushes to her feet and turns her attention back to the slender, sinewy Texan. The adorable, athletic cowgirl is mid-sprint and leaps into a dropkick to Cassava’s bosom. Onika backpedals her way to the ropes, keeping her balance with their help.
The Superfan’s arms wrap around the top cable, halting her from bouncing back toward a rising Lone Star Girl. Again, Crofton charges her adversary, hopping to the middle rope with her left foot and raising her folded right leg high, THUMPING the bony cap into the chin of the Mauler. Onika’s noggin snaps back from the force of the impact and Heather pushes the punch-drink champion by, Cassava staggering to center stage, where she fights for her wavering balance.
Feeling confident, Lisa’s fellow Dream Teamer steps to the curves of the TV Champion. She draws back her right arm, pivoting to gain more momentum, and sweeps it in a big underhand loop, again CRUNCHING Cassava’s chin, this time with a wicked European Uppercut.
The bottom-heavy Booty Blaster again remains upright after the whiplash-inducing collision, Heather’s frustration at being unable to ground the Superfan evident.
With Cassava wobbling and glassy-eyed, the Yellow Rose races past Onika and vaults into the cables, her boots landing on the middle ropes as she grabs the top with both hands. Using the rubber-coated steel like a trampoline, Heather springboards off the ropes, spinning in a 180 toward the seemingly clueless Iowan with a Cowgirl Crossbody Splash.
But instead of being knocked off her boot soles, the curvy Cassava catches the flying Girl from Grapevine across her chest. The BMD might give up a step to recover her equilibrium, but once her stance is steadied, she holds the trapped and squirming Crofton in place and takes a circuit of the ring, showing off her catch.
Unable to flail loose, Miss Mustang is sent flying with a fallaway slam, the slender Heather soaring through the Orlando airspace courtesy the BMD.
Fallaway Slam ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z6-smmLerGo )
The momentum of the Yellow Rose sends her rolling out under the bottom rope and flopping to the arena floor.
Cassava’s curves jiggle in all their glory after she kips to her feet and raises an arm high, drawing cheers far and wide from Kylie’s Corps who, like their leader, have taken Cassava under their wing.
Disappointed to realize Heather’s not in the field of play, Onika walks to the apron’s edge to discover where her opponent has gone. A look of surprise covers her features as there’s no Lone Star Girl to be found.
The Corps in the front rows try to warn their favorite Superfan, Crofton’s crawled under the ring, but Onika remains confused by the lack of the Texan.
Popping out from under the apron ninety degrees removed from where she was last seen, Heather slides back in under the bottom rope and races to the confused Cassava from her six o’clock.
Leaping as she closes with her ass-tastic adversary, Miss Mustang lands in riding position atop Onika’s back and shoulders. The blonde’s arms snake under and around those of the Milk Chocolate Mauler, securing a full nelson on her foe. Heather’s ivory stems wrap around Cassava’s midsection in a scissors, Crofton further fortifying her position.
The TV champ reaches over her left shoulder, trying to find a handhold on the pesky blonde to toss her off, but the efforts are less than successful as Cassava stumbles around the ring. And when Heather switches her grip from a nelson to a sleeper hold, the cowgirl trying to cut off the blood supply to the Booty’s brain, it becomes much more important for Cassava to find an escape hatch before Crofton can put the BMD to bed early.
Unable to rip Heather off her back, Onika’s dark eyes become more vacant by the second, her balance uneven. Desperate to keep her title reign intact, Cassava turns her back, and Heather’s, to the nearest corner and shuffles in reverse into the thin padding of the buckles, SANDWICHING the Lone Star Girl between, pressing the Yellow Rose flat.
Still hanging on for dear life, though clearly rocked, Heather’s grip fades, arms falling limp to her sides when the BMD repeats the pressing process a second and third time.
After the trifecta, the crushed and sagging Texan only maintains verticality by tossing her arms over the top rope on either side of the corner and, when Cassava kicks Crofton’s rubbery legs out from under her, the taut, little behind of the blonde plops to the canvas, lithe but lifeless legs outstretched, head bobbling atop slumping shoulders.
A predatory grin emerges on the Booty Blaster. She jogs to the opposite set of buckles. Mocking the cowgirl with an imaginary swing of a lasso, the Mauler turns and races toward the slackjawed challenger with a Booty Bomb ready to explode, just one of her 1000 Hip Attacks.
1000 Hip Attacks ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=WZZrFjUAxS4 ) 2:54
The crowd groans in sympathy for Heather as she is destroyed by the full force of the biggest, baddest backside in the business.
A nodding Cassava grabs the demolished Lone Star Girl by the ankles and tugs her to center stage where she lets Heather’s limp legs flop to the mat. Cassava drops to a lateral press, hooking Heather’s listless left leg in a cradle for good measure for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
Crofton kicks out, barely scraping a shoulder off the canvas. But it’s enough for Castle to raise only two fingers and keep the battle for the belt undecided for the time being.
Cassava huffs for a moment but quickly gets back to the task at hand, rising to her feet next to a groaning Heather. As Crofton struggles to a seat, Onika sidles behind her foe and grabs the blonde’s arms at the wrists.
In dominating fashion, the Milk Chocolate Mauler steps an abbreviated but muscular leg over one outstretched arm of her adversary, then does likewise over the opposite, moving to a standing straddle over Heather’s head and shoulders.
The BMD closes her thicc thighs around Heather’s noggin, cinching a standing scissors tight, flexing her glutes to pour the pressure into Miss Mustang, Heather’s face turning rosy from the compressing power.
But Cassava’s not done. She releases her grips on the Texan’s wrists and dips forward to cross the blonde’s legs in a figure four, then yanks the straightened stem toward her in a vicious stump puller Tearing Heather A New One with her signature submission.
Tearing Her a New One ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=QHGsk3CAUtU )
Crofton howls in anguish as the TV champ works her foe’s lower limbs, throwing a little bump and grind into her scissors to rub in her revenge on the Girl from Grapevine for the Dream Team’s earlier tag win.
Finally, Cassava drops to her badass booty, piling Heather’s body atop her shoulders, using Crofton’s left leg as a handle to keep her foe down for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOO!
Somehow, the slippery Yellow Rose slinks loose of the pinning predicament with Castle’s hand a few inches off the canvas.
Onika admires Crofton’s persevering spirit. It’s a shame she doesn’t have the good taste to ditch that clearly still evil huckster, Lisa Dream, and join the enlightened ranks of the Kylie Corps.
Onika hauls Crofton to vertical status with the straps of her top.
“You’re a tough one Heather. Ever thought of changing your nickname to The Yellow Cactus?”
The double champ takes her by the wrist takes a big step back and buggywhips the Texan into the nearest corner. Onika’s obvious lower center of gravity and physical power have Heather moving too fast to turn, the padded turnbuckle feels unforgiving against her sternum and robs the challenger of her breath. She places her palms over her sore chest and takes shaky steps in reverse.
Heather may have collapsed to the canvas if not for Cassava pushing on her shoulders shepherding her back into the junction and forcibly turning Heather to face the ring. “A lot of Roses in pro wrestling, a Cactus would stand out.”
Cassava manipulates Heather’s arms behind the top ropes keeping them out of the way as she rears back her right fist and turns into a hefty Forearm shot to the Dream Teamer’s cheek. With her prey rocked, Cassava climbs onto the middle cable to Heather’s left then turns and stretches her right left foot onto the middle cable to Heather’s right.
The languishing Lone Star Girl tilts her head over the top buckle with a protesting moan when the Buns of Mass Destruction brush against her face, but resistance is futile… The BMD crouches to grip the top ropes as she thrusts back her dangerous derriere against Crofton’s features and scrubs like she’s washing the dishes.
A riled and rowdy crowd hoots and hollers as Crofton stomps her feet and wriggles helplessly against Onika’s highly trained Badonkadonk. The Yellow Rose is bubbling with indignation, however, the worst is yet to come. What starts as muffled, angry protests from the challenger turn into half-smothered wailing when Onika stops scrubbing and turns those meaty cheeks into buns of steel. To be specific, a steel vice on Heather’s that feels like Bridget Stroud’s practicing her Clawhold!
PENTHOUSE BREAKFAST (HIP ATTACK 453)
i.imgur.com/pdh0Sts.mp4
Referee Nick Castle is well aware of the unwritten rules in FAWN when it comes to ‘fun’ in the corners and gave the champion some discretionary seconds at the beginning. But when Onika puts the pressure on and has Heather screaming through Cake he starts a count, “One! Two! Three! Four!”
Onika’s gold-bearing glutes relax and let the junior half of The Dream Team slip from between her cheeks and sag against the buckles with a sigh of relief. Cassava nods conciliatorily at Nick’s request to take it out of the corner while she repositions on the middle ropes to tummy up on her opposition.
“Be out in one sec, Nick.”
She puts her hands on the back of Heather’s neck and tenses her legs for a Springboard Hurricanarana that’ll turn the Texan into a tumbleweed. But Heather isn’t as helpless as she appears. Miss Mustang grabs Cassava’s left arm and pulls on it as she escapes between the Superchamp’s stems. The unexpected tug on her wrist drags Cassava’s head into a sudden and unpleasant meeting with the top buckle.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=lZxOanfdRN0
The Iowan’s skull bumps off the leather-padded steel and has Cass seeing stars. She lashes out her right hand and grabs the top rope to keep from falling but her left is still Heather’s possession. Miffed about the ass-based offence she suffered, Heather works the limb like a rope in a bell tower, jerking on it to bang the booty battler’s head over and over against the turnbuckle. A Pavlovian response triggers in the FAWNatics and they start an echoing count.
ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! SIX! SEVEN! EIGHT!
Rather than follow tradition and go for a nice ten-spot, Heather lets go of Cassava’s now limp arm and shoves her on the offending cheeks into a slump over the corner post.
Heather hefts each of Cassava’s legs over the top rope so the Kylie-stan is sitting uncomfortably on the thin piece of metal connecting the post to the turnbuckle. Heather climbs up to join her groggy frenemy, stepping over the top cables to balance on the second ropes as she secures a Waistlock.
The Lone Star Girl bears down on Onika’s middle squeezing out a groan like toothpaste from a tube, stirring The Superchamp to straighten up, Crofton puts her lips to Onika’s ear, “I wish I could think of something more clever, but to be succinct I’m tired of you putting your butt in my face!”
Crofton throws herself back and launches Onika with a German Suplex. Crofton hangs in the corner by the pits of her knees as the champion flies across the ring like a boulder fired from a catapult and lands just as heavy on her upper back. Cassava bounces off the mat onto her front with a painful flop. That roller coaster of a Suplex put some kinks in the Youtuber’s spine yet it seems to act like a shot of coffee for Cassava; she’s quickly picking herself off the canvas and willing her eyes to see straight.
OOOHHH!
And gets turned inside out by a Diving Clothesline that hits her right in the teeth.
youtu.be/1l0q6eaFwAY?t=64
Heather leaps from the high-rent district and thwaps![i/] Cassava against her lips with her small but powerful bicep. The champ is blown into a spin cycle that stops harshly with a matchbook, Cassava narrowly avoids a concussion from her knees, they graze her cheekbone with the leftover momentum and leave her ankles by her ear. Heather throws herself atop the champion’s upturned, quivering haunches and pushes down on Cassava’s calves to keep her in a tight ball throughout the official’s count.
ONE!
TWO!!
THRNOOO!!!
Cassava bucks onto her side, dislodging Heather and keeping her Television Title for at least three more seconds.
Heather was so close to singles gold she tasted it. She double-checks with the ref just in case there’s a miscommunication, but he throws up the dreaded peace sign, “Two. The match is still on.”
The Yellow Rose nods glumly but determined and shoves off the mat to stand, joining Cassava who somehow beat her to verticality despite wavering with the light breeze from the air conditioning. Cassava’s giving up her back to the challenger and Heather takes advantage by coming from behind and reaching under The BMD’s arms to take Cassava’s left wrist in her right hand and vice-versa, drawing them tight against the champion’s form.
Heather keeps the offence rolling with a small grunt of exertion as she raises the dyed blonde up and over and into the mat with a ring-shaking Suplex that’ll make Wendy Smith proud.
STRAIGHT-JACKET SUPLEX
www.youtube.com/watch?v=WnW_grFxXY4
Heather releases her hooks letting Onika unspool onto her hands and knees as she Kips up and sprints for the ropes ahead. The anguished ASSassain pushes up on shaking arms trying to regroup and fight back against the tides of this Crofton-Run. She takes in a breath mentally picturing her idol Kylie Sanders overcoming similar situations as she rises onto a knee and gets blasted in the face with Heather’s knee when she comes flying back like an adorable but merciless angel.
MY GAWD
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Tk3FDvdezo
Cassava’s blown flat on her back with her arms above her head, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as she looks up googly-eyed at Heather standing above her.
The Dream Teamer explains as she shakes out her attacking leg, “I said I’ll TRY not to be mean about taking the title, but that wasn’t a guarantee.”
Heather dips and surrounds Cassava’s head with both hands. She pulls the rubbery Milk Chocolate Mauler to a stooped stance and inserts her foe’s head between her thin (non-thicc) thighs. The Lone Star Girl clamps down with a standing head scissors as a murmur grows within the sellout crowd. Would she really?
“Remember. You brought this on yourself,” Crofton says.
The baby-faced blonde raises the flattened palm of her right hand high, drawing a raucous round of cheers from the crowd, the masses ready for her to play some butt-bongos.
And the junior member of the Dream Team takes to Lisa’s Bittersweet Symphony like a duck to water, swatting spank after blistering spank across Cassava’s abundant backside, THWAPPING her hands to booty time and time again. After a dozen, the crowd loses count.
Onika squirms with the stinging connections, the slaps delighting the fickle crowd.
Below, the BMD is seemingly less happy, features twisting in pain as the number grows, face turning rosy from the pressure of the scissors and the embarrassment shown her and her glutes, though those looking closely might see a hint of excitement at being Symphonized like her idol as part of Kylie’s less glorious portion of her past.
The growing pins and needles on her cheeks inspiring her to action, Cassava wraps her arms around Heather’s legs and uses her strength to rise and flip the Yellow Rose into a back body drop. But the athletic Crofton manages to rotate through to land on her feet.
Seamlessly, the Texan is off like a shot to the ropes, rebounding off the cables as the wincing Superfan rubs at her scrub brushes. Taking off from several feet out, Heather launches into a dropkick, planting her boot soles to Cassava’s delectable derriere.
The dyed blonde lurches forward, stumbling toward the ropes in front of her, ending on her knees as she reaches them, her arms and head leaning over the middle strand.
Seeing Onika’s position, Miss Mustang kips to her feet and heads for the opposite ropes for momentum. She u-turns out of those cables, racing for her target. Heather grabs the top rope as her body slips between the strands and sweeps around, her feet NAILING the Mauler in the bosom with a 469.
469 ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=NH-o9U8G7-4 ) 2:45
Cassava flops away in a back somersault, ending on her chest in the middle of the ring, body motionless save the soft swell of her chest.
Heather hustles to the nearest set of buckles and nimbly climbs to the top, turning to face her splayed foe. Onika absently rolls to her back to gather her bearings. It’s a potentially match-fatal mistake as Crofton launches into the stratosphere in a Shea London-worthy leap landing her Don’t Mess With Texas 450 Splash across the ample chest of the curvy Cassava.
Don’t Mess With Texas ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=uJlgiClk4p4 )
The adorably rowdy Texan gathers then hooks the BMD’s far leg to capture the Television Title with Long’s…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
There are as many groans of disappointment from those favoring the endearing Dream Teamer as there are sighs of relief from the Kylie Corps.
Showing Sanders-like determination, Cass threw a shoulder up with a split-second to spare and again Heather’s left to wonder what she must do to finish off the Superfan turned Superchamp.
A kneeling Crofton sweeps her blonde locks off her face and gets back to work, grabbing Cassava by the left wrist and shoulder and hauling the Mauler up as she rises next to Onika.
Plucking the champ’s near leg off the deck and slipping her head under Cassava’s near arm, the anticipation in the crowd grows as they ready to see The Booty’s night come to an end with the Texas Tornado.
Texas Tornado ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=AYQacdoLnEM ) :26
But before Heather can turn the page on Cassava, Onika throws her hip into the taut midriff of the blonde, short circuiting the Girl from Grapevine’s plans. Freed from Heather’s grip, the BMD tuns and delivers a toe kick to Crofton’s already churning tummy, leaving her foe bent and breathless.
The Milk Chocolate Mauler slides behind the gasping Heather. She snatches Crofton’s left arm and tugs it between the ivory legs of the Yellow Rose, then bends Heather’s body to the side and underhooks the blonde’s topside arm, securing a pumphandle grip.
Grabbing a handful of yellow spandex on Heather’s hip, the power-packed Kylie shipper pops the wide-eyed Lone Star Girl up to her bountiful bosom, then drops to one knee, bringing Heather’s spine down across the plank of her upper leg, threatening to dislodge Crofton’s vertebrae. The crowd groans in sympathy pains.
Pumphandle Backbreaker ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=ebkuBgtKlfc&list=PLeRPsdtvusXikFAlFp0SFvMOT6E8kSips&index=19&t=76s ) 1:20
But Cassava’s not done. With Heather draped over her raised knee, she pays back Crofton’s Bittersweet Symphony with a tune of her own, slapping Heather’s arched and open belly with gusto, leaving the blonde’s abused abs pink from a dozen right-lefts with her open hands. Finally, she shoves the grimacing Heather off to curl in a fetal ball, whimpering in stinging pain from the two-pronged attack to back and front.
Cassava pulls Heather out of her shell, yanking the wincing blonde to her feet.
“Know what else you shouldn’t mess with, Texan? My ass!” Onika informs.
The Mauler bullies Crofton into a backpedal to the nearest corner. She takes hold of the right wrist of the Yellow Rose and heaves her across the canvas with an Irish Whip. The blonde zooms through the expanse, spinning into a heavy, back-first collision with the buckles. The power of the impact shuts the ‘power’ off to Heather’s stems and she plops to her taut little tush, legs extended, head on a bobble.
No clearer invitation need be made for the champ. The BMD races across the ring and, from short range, she leaps into a potentially concussive hip check to the face that leaves Heather on Dream Street, reclining into the bottom buckle with a vacant look in her eyes.
Grabbing the waylaid Heather by the ankles, Cassava drags the dazed Girl from Grapevine to dead center.
The BMD moves to a standing straddle of the starfished Crofton and drops a booty bomb into the welts evident on the blonde’s tummy. The blast of the bomb sends every bit of oxygen out of Heather’s lungs. Onika slips her arms around the back of a jackknifing Heather’s knees and leans forward, matchbooking the gasping Lone Star Girl for the…
ONE…
TWO…
The entirety of Heather’s body flexes to sit up under the Superchamp’s weight, reversing their positions to put Onika’s shoulders on the mat!
ONE…
TWO…
Onika lurches up with bared teeth making them move like the oddest seesaw to put Heather back into pin position.
ONE…
TWO…
The Lone Star Girl shows that Texas spirit and bucks up as she forces Cassava back down, she leans in hard putting the champ’s legs from 90 degrees to almost a matchbook pin at 45. The referee’s hand is getting sore from the rapid near-falls but he powers through and raises his hand for the next count- Cassava Claps her thighs on Crofton’s ears and backrolls out of her grasp and onto her feet while the blonde’s discombobulated. Cassava’s hot-blooded and feeling the cusp of Victory, she waves Crofton up urgently yelling “Come Ooon!!” Heather never backs down from a challenge even when her head is spinning! She labours to stand with fists clenched, “It’ll take more than your ass to put me-!”
Thwack!
Cassava spins with the speed of a Class 5 hurricane and crashes her heel against Heather’s cheekbone with a Back Roundhouse Kick to the cheek that fells The Yellow Rose like a yellow tree.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=PZxMeZ7ua6w
Heather collapses with her arms spread out like she was flopping on her bed after a long day and not kicked in the face in front of thousands of people on Pay Per View. Cassava baseball slides next to Heather and throws herself over the Dream Teamer in a North/South pin, smushing the challenger’s lips against her navel as she bears her weight down.
Cas grinds her chin against Heather’s midsection as the ref lowers, “I told you I had style, didn’t I?”
ONE!
TWO!!
TH-Kickout!
Heather displays Perfect fortitude and gets a shoulder up in the nick of time! She bucks onto her right side, jostling Onika onto one knee.
The Superchamp’s still lying atop the little Bronco with her cheek on Heather’s hip looking dumbstruck. Onika mutters to herself, “What do I have to do to put you down?”
She gets up and puts her hands on her hips, paces back and forth a few feet while looking down at the addled challenger. Heather’s trying to get up, but her quivering limbs can’t seem to get the message, it takes a few attempts just to get off her elbows to all fours.
Something in her foe’s struggle turns on a light in Cassava’s mind; memories of unfortunate wrestlers being booked against her other hero (and hopefully, future wife) Emily West, and being done in by her brilliantly named Brainbuster called Cerebral Hemorrhage. She giddily grins, “I can't believe I haven't done this yet!”
Eager to perform The Black Queen’s finisher. The’ FAWN Finds’ host tries to help Crofton to her feet with a Front Facelock but finds her weight more dead than alive. Struggling to get the natural blonde off her knees, she throws Crofton’s arm over her neck and grabs her shorts by the waistline. “Come on now Heather…” Cassava grunts as she slowly gets the challenger on wobbly stems. “Don’t make me do a ‘wilting’ jokeUGH!!”
The bicep of Heather’s free arm bangs into Cassava’s chin with a European Uppercut! Cassava’s teeth clack together as her head whiplashes from the sudden blow. Heather swivels away from The Superchamp as her attacking arm snares Onika’s bobbling noggin in a Three-Quarters Facelock. The FAWNatics blow up in the stands when Miss Mustang brings up her right leg high, they know what’s coming! Crofton scythes her leg down and falls sharply onto her stomach, slamming the top of Cassava’s skull into the hard ring floor.
DAYDREAMER
www.youtube.com/watch?v=z9NAuAx2GM0
Cassava balances on her head for an almost comedic length of time before gravity takes hold and she falls lifelessly to the mat. Face up with her mouth hanging slightly open and her chest swelling with each breath. Heather held some moves taught by her mentor Lisa Dream in reserve until the Perfect moment, but would it be enough?
Heather certainly hopes so! Dead tired, she crawls over and settles on the prone Kylie-Stan’s heaving chest in a Back Press cover.
ONE!
TWO!!
THRENOOOO!!!
The double champion spurs to life and rolls onto her front under a buffaloed Crofton.
It’s such a close call some fans prematurely cheer and stand up in their seats thinking they’ve just witnessed a title change.
Heather clutches at her sweat-soaked golden hair and looks at the ref with quiet desperation, “Are you sure?”
Nick Castle tilts his head forward and reaffirms his call, “Yeah. sorry Crofton. The timer’s still going.”
She nods, only half-listening as she racks her brain for what to do next. She feels Cassava stirring below and rises to her feet. Heather gazes around the ring looking for inspiration and realizes their positioning. The BMD’s currently a few feet from the ropes and facing away from them, woozily pushing up to all fours. Everything’s in place for the second move Lisa Dream’s imparted from her repertoire.
DREAMSICLE
youtu.be/ZlwDduTQL3c?t=52
Heather has her eyes locked on the unaware Onika while she outstretches her arm and swings it in bigger and bigger circles, chirping “This’ll be the one!”
When Onika gets on her rickety feet Heather retreats into the cables and bursts forth like a blonde rocket. Miss Mustang’s arm is on a beeline for the back of The Superchamp’s head like a reaper’s scythe- and misses! Cassava bends at the waist letting Heather whiff past her, the tenacious Texan almost falls over with her momentum but rights herself and whirls around for a Clothesline.
Crack!
Crofton’s spit flies from her mouth as her head violently whips to the side from a Spinning Back Fist from the booty battler.
Heather used a move from Dream so Cassava borrows a signature from her good friend, Kanako Akiyama. The challenger’s still standing, but Crofton’s eyes are looking in two directions.
“I can get mean too, honey.” Cassava bends over and forcefully puts her head between The Yellow Rose’s stems as she grips her behind the knees. The Milk Chocolate Mauler straightens up dangling Crofton behind her back, “The difference is my mean is championship level.”
What Heather sees is the endless landscape of pink that’s actually Cassava’s shorts up close. Then she feels an abrupt change in elevation, next there’s a sharp pain, then nothing at all. Only darkness. What the audience sees is Cassava rising onto her tippy toes and then plummet onto her haunches, spiking Heather’s head into the canvas with an Axe Guillotine Driver!
UPSIDE DOWN CAKE
www.youtube.com/watch?v=8j3J-wXRRjk
Cassava can feel the impact of Crofton hitting the ring travel up the Dream Teamer’s body and through her legs where the Superfan is holding her. Cassava lets the demolished Miss Mustang flounder to the mat, and from there it’s the slightest scootch backwards into a front facesit. The ASSassain finds Crofton’s wrists and holds them down as Nick Castle baseball slides in and counts the…
ONE…
TWO…
And the THREE!.
DINGDINGDING!!
The triumphant Cassava Onika dismounts her defeated opponent’s face at the first chime of the bell. But she does rock a double bicep pose as she angles over, so she can press her shin against Heather’s cheek and smoosh her face into the canvas.
She wants to be friends after this, but what’s the point of being the TV Champion if you can’t posterize a chick?
The younger half of the Dream Team is Cassava furniture for half a minute when Castle comes over with the successfully defended title belt. Cassava gets off the mat and her opponent with a helping hand from the official and is passed the gleaming treasure. She leans down to the insensate Heather and slaps the faceplate of the belt.
“If you ever want to give this another go, I’m ready any time. And If Lisa wants to try her hand, I want you to describe to her just how delicious my cake is.”