Post by hawkeye on Mar 6, 2024 1:25:35 GMT
Few could put up a stink like Kat Braddock and the former FAWN World Champ had done her best all month regarding the unfair advantage the new titleholder used in taking her gold at T, C & P.
Bethany Christian had been hearing all about it for weeks, including the vague threat of a lawsuit from The Brat’s lawyer Peter Francis Geraci. In the end, for the Commish, giving Kat a rematch was worth not hearing her caterwauling.
When a Richter scale rumble courses through the arena, the embittered crowd is furious. There was no mandatory defense against the previous champion in FAWN and the organization’s hardcore followers liked it that way. New blood. Back of the line. All that stuff. And now KAT BRADDOCK of all people is getting special treatment!
An earthquake-sized round of boos rises to a crescendo when the speakers transition to Van Halen's ‘Beautiful Girls’.
Beautiful Girls (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bJ9h2m06sFQ )
A barrage of pyrotechnics explodes from the rafters in time with the chords, the fiery white sparks illuminating the cavernous space in a momentarily blinding light.
After the flash, in the light show’s place, the ill-mannered, ass-kicking blonde Brat is back for revenge, the gold noticeably no longer around her waist. At her right shoulder however, remains her flaxen-haired worker bee.
Bianca Simpson, FAWN’s long-time Jobber Extraordinaire, having made little difference in keeping the former beach fighter at the top spot, seems still considered worthwhile in the role of lackey. Braddock motions Simpson to precede her, dropping rose petals from a bag in front of the sneering former best in the world.
Not that she’s competent as a combatant, but Bianca is dressed for battle in her simple red one-piece battle attire, white boots and pads completing the flop’s wardrobe.
BIANCA SIMPSON
The curvy Quake strides toward the battleground in her booty-blasting blue gear, the two-piece accentuating her curves both bottom and topside, the outfit including knee-high athletic socks, her boots traded in for sporty Chuck Taylors.
KAT BRADDOCK:
Kat’s gear (
and ( 
).
Braddock barks with the assembled, responding to snickering slights from the crowd, the sellout throng loving the comeuppance for Kat from the newly signed roster add who made a cataclysmic re-appearance, at least as far as The Brat is concerned.
As the duo reach ringside, Kat directs Bianca to the announcer’s table where the golden-maned drone grabs the man’s stick.
Simpson returns and leads her boss up the steps, then sits on the middle cable, pushing up the top, leaving plenty of room for Kat to enter between.
Braddock moves to the middle of the ring, Bianca follows her in, microphone still in hand.
As the champ’s music fades, Simpson starts to draw it to her lips when Braddock rips it from her hands, the crowd ‘OOOOHING’, hoping to give Bianca a backbone. There’s none to be found.
“Your great honor is to watch the greatest champion in FAWN history reclaim her proper place.”
The FAWNatics vehemently disagree.
“The match is scheduled for one fall with a 60-minute time limit and is for the FAWN World Championship!”
“First. From Newport Beach, California. Standing five feet two inches tall and weighing in at 123 pounds. The Woman Who Sets the World Atremble and the REAL World Champion. …KAT BRADDOCK!”
The fireplug blonde drops the stick and stomps to her corner, Bianca behind her, massaging the shoulders of her boss, at least until Kat shrugs her off.
“Get down there. And Bianca…”
Simpson holds her breath, looking worried.
“Make yourself useful.”
“Yes Miss Braddock. I promise. I will.”
Bianca slips through the ropes and drops to the floor as Braddock turns to await the World Champion, Kat almost choking on the very thought.
Having apparently discovered a back-up microphone under the table, the man paid to complete introductions takes the place of the challenger.
“And her opponent…”
The horde, wanting to stick it to the California Quake roars to its feet.
“Hailing from Atlantic City, New Jersey… She stands five feet eight inches tall and weighs in tonight at one hundred and thirty-three pounds… Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome… YOUR FAWN WORLD CHAMPION…CASEY NEWSMME!!!!!”
”DEFY YOU”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=tSIioK8Fi5g
As the Offspring’s “Defy You” begins to pump over the arena’s sound system, behind the curtain Casey rolls her head from left to right, jogging in place for a moment before throwing a few quick jabs at the air in front of her. Once the lyrics hit, Newsome shoots through the curtain, moving to center stage.
CASEY NEWSOME:
The woman who’d made her name huge after leaving FAWN was now the organization’s World Champ after one match on her return. Beaming, she slaps the gold faceplate covering her taut midriff then lifts her arm high and wide.
“LEMME HEAR YA!!!” the brunette shouts and the FAWNatics do not disappoint her, responding with another thunderous roar.
Apparently satisfied, the newly minted champion starts toward the ring, crisscrossing from the left side of the aisle to right and back to slap hands with the assembled adoring masses.
The quickest way into hearts was beating Braddock and to do it such dominant fashion? They were in love.
Casey wears a metallic blue two piece changed from a one, the better to feel her new hardware close to her skin, a white sash serving as a belt around her waist, tied off just above her right hip. White pads and boots complete her ensemble, save for one glaring detail: a black protective brace, encasing her right knee, an unfortunate accompaniment for the former dancer since the start of her wrestling career. It was now more protective in nature but still a nasty calling card of a life-altering moment that happily led her to a very successful vocation.
Skipping up the ring steps, Newsome turns to face the near ring post before moonwalking her way to the middle of the apron. Turning her back to the ring, Casey takes the top rope in both hands, then earns an “Ooooooooooooh!” from the FAWNatics when she drops into a set of splits—the long ago injury to her knee having apparently done little to rob her of her flexibility. She rolls underneath the bottom rope, lower limbs remaining wide.
Back somersaulting into a handstand before a cringing Kat, Casey deftly drops to her boot soles, unhooks the gaudy belt and raises it high to another outpouring from the fans.
Kat can take no more.
She charges Newsone from behind, THUMPING a forearm shiver into the back of Casey’s skull. The Principal Dancer lurches forward, ending on all fours, having dropped her hardware in the process.
Braddock scoops up the gold and leather and brandishes, motioning with her head for Casey to rise. But before Kat can send it careening into Newsome’s forehead, lead official Nick Castle snatches it away to the great displeasure of the challenger. He slides the title under the ropes to a waiting attendant who has it for a second or two before Bianca claims it, ripping it free and strolling back to Braddock’s corner, possessing it for ‘safe keeping’.
Inside, Nick calls for the bell and it’s a red cape to a bull, Kat charging and NAILING a kneeling Casey in the chin, flattening the larger grappler, hammies atop calves, shoulders to canvas. Braddock dives on top in a crossbody pin for an extraordinary win with the…
ONE…
TWO…
Newsome shoves Kat off, unfolding her stems. She staggers to her feet, massaging and flexing her jaw as she backs into a set of buckles, the predatory Kat ready to push her unearned advantage.
Not fully aware of Braddock’s whereabouts, Newsome EATS a forearm smash from the charging challenger, rocking the head of the brunette. The shorter, fireplug blonde pushes Casey deep into the corner, stuffing her left arm under the newly crowned champion’s chin. With her open right hand, Kat lights up the chest of the Principal Dancer, WHACKING the flesh loudly enough to draw a reflexive ‘WOOO’ from the crowd.
Enjoying the positive response from her haters, Kat loads another and WHACKS Newsome a second and third time, the skin of her foe reddening from the abuse.
“You caught me off guard last month,” Kat purrs. “Now you find out what every other member of the roster knows, bytch. I am this organization.”
Braddock removes her controlling left, so she can pivot and begin applying backhand blasts. The California Quake rockets a chop toward the stinging cleavage of the brunette, but Casey ducks under, grabs her foe around the shoulders, and pushes The Brat into the buckles, taking her place.
The World Champion unloads on her smaller adversary, driving a raised knee deep into Kat’s solar plexus, folding Braddock at the waist, then straightening her with a knee between the eyes of the former champ, snapping the blonde’s head back from the impact.
Seeing the glaze in Braddock’s eyes, Casey turns and jogs to the opposite corner. Slapping the top buckle, she u-turns and sprints at the slumping blonde. Lifting off from several feet out for a massive splash, Newsome’s dark peepers grow wide when Braddock pulls herself out from her role as the landing pad. Casey CRASHES into the empty buckles, whiplashing away from the impact. She staggers toward the middle of the ring, while Kat shakes out some cobwebs.
As Newsome gathers her balance and turns, a racing Kat runs the bigger brunette through with a vicious spear, the force of which few can match. Casey’s creased at the waist from the brutal tackle and PLOWED into the deck, Braddock’s shoulder gutting the new champion as Newsome is THUMPED into the canvas.
The challenger slips to a crossbody pin, hooking the ex-dancer’s braced leg to being the gold back to where it always belongs with the…
ONE…
The Prima Ballerina shoves Braddock off, Kat sent flying to her feet from the heave. The Brat shows concern at the force from which she’s been ejected. However, she’s frozen only for a moment, brought back to animation by the loud boisterous support of her lovely lackey Bianca.
Braddock pops to an inward-facing handstand next to the splayed Newsome then drops her knees toward Casey’s ivory midriff. But the champ deftly protects her bruised belly, catching Braddock’s kneecaps in her palms, then thrusting her foe away. Kat somersaults to the side, quickly bouncing to her boot soles while a grimacing Newsome pushes to her feet.
Casey backpedals to a corner for some recovery time, but The Brat is interested in any allowances. Braddock charges. If once was good, twice would be better. She dips a shoulder to gore the long, lean abdomen of the former dancer with another impaling tackle. Unfortunately for the challenger and her stooge on the sidelines, it’s Casey’s turn to flee the scene and Kat travels between the buckles, RAMMING her right shoulder into the cold steel of the ring post.
With the FAWNatics roaring their approval, the titleholder gives the ample and available backside of the blonde a side kick to the tush that propels Braddock’s bruised shoulder back into the steel a second time, Kat howling in pain. Newsome wraps her arms around the plush tummy of the blonde and yanks the Quake free of her predicament. However, Braddock’s quickly tugged into a front facelock by the recent signee from FAWN’s primary competition.
Casey vaults Kat high into the air, Braddock’s boot soles pointed to the rafters for a moment before Newsome pivots and drops the blonde’s shins across the top rope. Using the spring of the rubber-coated steel, Casey hurls Braddock up and over with a slingshot suplex.
Slingshot Suplex ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gj6mq4VC5FU )
Braddock’s spine SLAMS to the thinly-sheathed floorboards and she arches in anguish, her left hand reaching back to assuage the pain of her lower vertebrae. Behind the blonde, an energized champ kips to her feet and turns to view the wreckage. She takes a step to reacquire the faltering challenger when The Brat’s minion hops to the apron, shouting at the brunette.
Slowly, Casey’s head turns toward Simpson. Less slowly, she decides to eliminate the bungling Bianca from the equation, sprinting at the Quake’s crony and nailing Simpson in the chops with a forearm blast. Bianca takes flight, soaring from apron to steel barricade non-stop. Her lithe frame collides with the steel and crumples, pooling at its base, the crowd adoring the toady’s destruction.
Regrettably for the grinning champ, Simpson’s done her job as The Brat attacks from Newsome’s blindspot, throwing a chop block into the braced leg of the Prima Ballerina. Casey collapses, yelping in agony as she grasps her left knee, pulling the limb in close. The brunette butt-scoot toward a corner, but Braddock isn’t having it, snatching the leg at the ankle and pulling a plaintive Newsome toward center stage.
Kat steps over the long, sinewy stem of the champ, her bulbous bum pointed toward the Newsome’s noggin. With the injured wheel in her possession, Kat scoots backwards with the limb, curling both the single leg and Casey’s spine in a dual torture, Newsome squealing in pain from the ruthless submission attempt by The Brat.
Single-leg Boston Crab ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=mWJFQG4j1iQ )
Casey claws at the canvas in front of her, desperate to find a way out, the abuse to her figurative Achilles’ heel sending shockwaves of pain through her body. Slowly, Newsome skids along the mat, her curled fingers stretching for salvation. But as she closes within inches, Kat rises from her crouch and drags the mewling brunette back to dead center to reapply.
Bianca, up and leaning heavily against the apron, gives the challenger a single-woman ovation, flexing her sore jaw with mumbled words of encouragement.
Within the battleground, before Braddock can reset her Crab, a desperate Newsome spins to her back and plants the boot of her free leg between Kat’s glutes. Pistoning her leg outward, the champ frees herself, Kat sent lurching forward with surprising force, not only losing her grip but tumbling neck-first across the uppermost cable, hotshotted against the springy strand.
As a gasping, choking Braddock staggers around the ring, Casey tries her best to push to her feet. It’s a process, as the grimacing brunette struggles, hobbling to a corner once vertical. With the buckles to lean against, she gingerly works her heavily braced lower limb until she can manage enough limping mobility to bring herself back into the fight.
Rubbing her flushed throat, Kat’s ready for a lock-up, offering her extended arms toward Newsome, only to pull them back at the last moment and try to gut the newly-minted World Champion with a toe kick. Casey latches onto the limb at the ankle before it can strike home. Throwing it in reverse with all the strength she can manage with an unsteady base, the Principal Dancer nevertheless sends Braddock’s head and torso hurtling forward as her leg swings back, Kat faceplanting into the deck at the brunette’s feet.
Braddock props on her elbows, a set of fingers pressing against each side of her throbbing beak.
“You’re dead,” Kat grunts nasally into her palms.
The champ isn’t interested, having taken off for the ropes at the blonde’s left side. Rebounding, the agile Newsome forward flips, placing one hand on the canvas as she otherwise somersaults through the air, guiding her way to CRASH the back of her right leg across the rear of Kat’s skull with a Somersault Leg Drop.
Somersault Leg Drop ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mh-yfvyBhj0 )
Kat’s face SLAMS into the deck from the force of the blow. A steady trickle of red leaks from the Quake’s left nostril as she’s shoved to her back, The Brat’s hazel eyes glassy from another collision of forehead to floorboards.
Casey scoops both tanned stems and rolls to a back press against Kat’s chest, Braddock’s caboose pointed to the rafters as she’s cradled into a pinfall for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
The challenger’s body springs open to the great relief of her flaxen-haired patsy, Kat saving herself for the moment. Bianca’s two raised fingers match Castle’s, as the faltering Braddock, pushing to all fours, seems too dazed to even attempt to crawl to safety.
Her hesitancy is no problem for a risen Boardwalk Boss who helps the confused Kat to her feet. But upon reaching vertical, Braddock shoves free from the surprised brunette. The Quake turns and hauls ass to the ropes, vaulting to the middle cable while she grabs the top. Only on her rubber-coated springboard for an instant, the fireplug former champion u-turns into a cross-body splash across the chest of the newly minted titleholder.
The Brat’s eyes go wide when the destroyer-class Jersey girl simply catches the former beach fighter from the Left Coast instead of being bowled over. A beaming Newsome shakes her head knowingly as Braddock squirms within her clutches. There’s no escape until the bigger brunette swings Kat beside her hip then seamlessly shifts her captured foe in the opposite direction, laying out and PLANTING Kat face and chest-first into the deck with a Swinging Flatliner.
Swinging Flatliner ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=3xDGTLQmv8E )
Braddock absently flops to her back from the brutal force of the impact, but Casey passes on a pin, apparently believing her adversary has enough energy left to avoid the three-count. Instead, Newsome moves to a stance behind the reeling Kat, and pulls Braddock up to a seated position by her wrists. With the FAWNatics cheering her on, Newsome steps over Braddock’s shoulders, right then left, and flexes her thighs to place a vice-like scissors tight to the skull of the flagging champ-turned-challenger.
With the scissors secure, Casey releases Kat’s wrists and works at her foe’s head and neck with a cravat grip, wrenching the noggin of the blonde. Wearing down the increasingly slack Braddock, Casey reaches further down and folds Kat’s abbreviated stems in a figure four. Snatching the extended stem at the ankle like a handle, Casey tugs ferociously on her carefully crafted stump puller, attempting to force a submission.
Modified Stump Puller ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=QHGsk3CAUtU )
Kat howls in anguish as a worried Bianca sweeps her fingers through long, golden locks, in disbelief this FAWN newbie is eating her boss for lunch a second time.
The Cali Quake seems completely trapped, face turning rosy, left knee ligaments stretched to the snapping point.
“Let’s see if I can’t get you in the market for a matching brace,” the Prima Ballerina chirps, Kat alternating between mewls, yelps and pleas to ‘STAHP’.
Convinced the end may be near, Castle drops to a knee in front of a teary-eyed Braddock, asking The Brat if she wants to give in. Despite her hazel peepers being filled to the brim with slaty discharge, Braddock shakes off the offer as much as she’s able within the clenching thighs of her foe.
Impressed by Kat’s resolve, Casey sits out, drawing Kat to her back as she does, Braddock still controlled by the extended leg, her ass cheeks pointed to the rafters in an undeniable pin for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Braddock’s shoulders remain tight to the canvas for THREE. However, there’s no third slap reverberating in Newsome’s ears. The crowd rains boos on the ring and more particularly, the Brat’s sycophant. With Castle’s ankles near the ropes, Bianca reached under, wrapping a palm around each, and dragged FAWN’s lead ref out of the ring just as he was about to confirm Kat a two-time loser to the recent signee.
A furious Nick spins on Simpson and berates Kat’s minion. Bianca is barking right back until the redfaced ref screams “YOU’RE OUT OF HERE!”
Castle points up the ramp as an apoplectic Bianca throws a hissy fit.
The crowd continues to count the result inside…FOUR…FIVE…SIX!
Finally, Casey releases, tosses the should-be-beaten Braddock’s leg aside, rises, and walks to the ropes, staring down at Castle and Kat’s crony.
“OUT!” shouts Nick. “Or you’re suspended for six months!”
Those seem the magic words, as while Simpson continues to jaw with the man in stripes and the fans along the aisle as she retreats, Bianca heeds the warning and heads for the back.
Behind the distracted brunette, an aching but obstinate Braddock pulls the destroyer-class Jersey girl off her boot soles, rolling the champion up in a small package.
Relieved of Bianca’s distractions, Castle slides back in the ring to give Simpson’s boss the sneaky count she’s looking for with the…
ONE…
TWO…
Newsome kicks loose and scrambles to her feet, clothesline drawn to knock Kat into next week. Braddock has other ideas, having bailed out under the bottom rope, landing her feet on the arena floor, and pointing at her right temple with an index finger, proving to anyone not already aware she’s not only too tenacious to lose to Jersey trash twice in a row, but too smart as well.
On her own, Bianca in the back, Braddock shakes out her sore left leg, a definite hitch in her giddy-up as she paces the hard cam side of the ring.
Becoming impatient within, Casey times the former champ, backpedaling to the far ropes and springing out of them at full speed. She sprints toward the clueless blonde, preparing for a suicide dive into the California Quake.
But as Casey lowers to launch between the top and middle ropes, Braddock’s been playing possum. She leaps toward Newsome’s exit space and catches her clean with a forearm shiver to the jaw. A wobbling Casey staggers away from the impact, remaining in the ring, as Kat slides in the squared circle to join her, pops to her feet, and charges.
Regaining her balance, the Principal Dancer turns to find her adversary and discovers all too much, as Kat leaps into a running hip check to the brunette’s chest. To her credit, the champ totters but remains upright. Newsome’s persistence gives Braddock the opportunity to send a nasty stomp to the Prima Ballerina’s braced left knee, a grimacing Casey genuflecting in front of the challenger.
Second wind filling her sails, Kat cups a hand under Newsome’s chin and guides the Atlantic City native to rubbery legs. Measuring her foe, Braddock snatches Newsome’s left wrist with her right hand, so she can fold the limb out of the path of her next assault.
Leaning back, Kat thrusts her skull forward, sending her signature Heart Butt into Casey’s ticker, forcing the brunette’s blood pumper to skip a beat from the impact. Casey’s dark eyes roll white and she takes a header to the canvas from the literal heart attack.
The snarling blonds grabs Newsome’s ankles and spins her foe’s legs, so they face the nearest corner. Kat drops the stems then spreads them with a couple kicks before striding to the buckles and quickly scrambling to the top, turning to face her target.
With the runaway to Casey’s crotch wide open, Braddock leaps with arms tight to her sides a single file of destruction with Kat’s hard head leading the way. The Brat’s second ramming blow to a supremely sensitive location sends Casey bolt upright to a pained seat, hands flashing deep between her thighs, drawn there by the nauseating waves of pain caused by Kat’s head butt from the penthouse to her privates.
With Newsome’s eyes welling and face pale, Braddock rises to her kneecaps, cradles her arms behind the back of the brunette’s knees and presses forward, folding the kitty-blasted Jersey girl into an anguished matchbook for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
The brunette destroyer barely survives, shoving from under the woman she bested to take FAWN’s top spot only last month.
Straddling Casey’s waist in a forward-facing perch, the vicious Kat fashions her fingers into curled tines and sinks them deep into the spandex-sheathed bosom of the brunette. With dual claws digging into the tender tissue, Braddock mauls at Newsome’s chest, drawing mewls and yips of pain from the Jersey girl.
Showing a willingness to stoop as low as she needs to go, the California Quake drags a teary-eyed Casey up by the probing digits, the champ pulled to her feet by her breasts!
Standing face to face, The Brat loosens her grips and unleashes with windmill slaps to Casey’s gurls, exacerbating the pain, Newsome backpedaling into a corner to find a place to defend herself against the onslaught.
But the flaxen-haired fireplug shows the reason why she kept the World belt for over a year, not allowing Newsome a chance to recover, racing toward her larger foe and BLASTING the brunette with a running hip check to the sternum.
Trying her best to create some space and endure, the Principal Dancer shoves Braddock back several steps.
The effort only flames the fury in the hazel eyes of the challenger and Kat races back at her adversary, throwing her short but curvy frame into the titleholder with an avalanche splash, burying the bigger woman in a crushing display that sends a reeling Newsome to her backside.
Jogging out to center stage, Kat makes a u-turn for another rush toward the faltering Casey. Braddock dives in a crossbody THUMP of Newsome, rocking the recent signee with a Cali Sandwich.
Cali Sandwich ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=zQbKiIEluic )
The slumping Casey’s long, ivory legs are kicked wide and again the unrelenting challenger takes a short lap of the squared circle, then sprints back at her liquefying foe. From several feet out, Kat launches with a dropkick to each of her foe’s inner thighs, forcing the lower limbs into a painful leg spread.
With a wincing Casey grasping at her groin muscles, the Brat inches forward and climbs into the lap of the wavering Prima Ballerina. The Quake wraps her abbreviated but muscular stems around the midriff of Newsome and cinches her limbs tight while simultaneously tugging Casey’s pained, anxious features into her ample chest with a front sleeper grip.
Her Brat Pack finisher expertly applied, Casey begins succumbing to the anguish and breathlessness of the scissoring and suffocating combination. A tardy Castle starts his count with Newsome’s flagging frame collapsing into dishrag status as she can only suckle against the chest of the challenger, finding no oxygen, while Braddock attempts to snap her ribs.
Finally forced to release just before ‘FIVE’, Kat disengages from her scissors and breathtaking grip and back somersaults away from the wreckage of the greasy-faced brunette, Kat popping to her feet, sweat-soaked, yet somehow looking fresh.
“Jersey girl, you done woken up the Beach in me,” Kat informs.
She surrounds the head of the champ with both hands and hauls a rubbery Casey to wobbly feet.
“Maybe I should thank you for opening my eyes, making me hungry again. But I’ll tell you, nobody else will do it, because you brought back the feral Kat and that’s the worst kind.”
Braddock drives a toe kick DEEP into Newsome’s navel, doubling her foe. She tosses a limp arm of the Atlantic City native over her shoulders while pulling Casey into a front facelock and snatching a handful of spandex on the champ’s hip.
With a frightening ease, the curvy blonde ‘hups’ her bigger, but raggedy-ass rival into a cradled position tight to her chest. The silenced FAWNatics don’t need to guess where this is going and The Brat shows them the way, laying out and SPIKING Casey’s cranium into the canvas-covered floorboards with a gruesome Kat Nap.
Kat Nap ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=1nNeUWdGDSo )
The crowd groans as Casey tumbles into a starfish.
A sneering Braddock rises to her knee and ‘walks’ to the dark-maned rubble, placing one palm on the cleft of Newsome’s bosom and another on her softly gulping tummy for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREEE!
Many a chin of the assembled masses drops to a chest as they’re forced to the realization the woman they love to hate has become the organization’s top talent for a second time after only one month away from the throne.
The bell rings out at Castle’s direction and the ring announcer makes it official.
“Your winner by pinfall and NEW FAWN World Champion…KAT BRADDOCK!”
Braddock allows Castle to grab a wrist and assist the new queen (same as the old queen) to her feet, handing over the hardware to a smirking Kat. The curvy blonde plants a boot sole on Casey’s crotch and raises her arms high and wide, the gold and leather in her left hand.
“You thought this Janey-Come-Lately was the real deal,” Braddock shouts to anyone who’ll listen. “Girl defines flash in the pan. Fool’s Gold. I’m the genuine article and I’m making the second chapter a hell of a lot longer than the first.”
With that emphatic and, to some, depressing thought, the screen fades to black, just like the hopes of everyone in attendance.
Bethany Christian had been hearing all about it for weeks, including the vague threat of a lawsuit from The Brat’s lawyer Peter Francis Geraci. In the end, for the Commish, giving Kat a rematch was worth not hearing her caterwauling.
When a Richter scale rumble courses through the arena, the embittered crowd is furious. There was no mandatory defense against the previous champion in FAWN and the organization’s hardcore followers liked it that way. New blood. Back of the line. All that stuff. And now KAT BRADDOCK of all people is getting special treatment!
An earthquake-sized round of boos rises to a crescendo when the speakers transition to Van Halen's ‘Beautiful Girls’.
Beautiful Girls (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bJ9h2m06sFQ )
A barrage of pyrotechnics explodes from the rafters in time with the chords, the fiery white sparks illuminating the cavernous space in a momentarily blinding light.
After the flash, in the light show’s place, the ill-mannered, ass-kicking blonde Brat is back for revenge, the gold noticeably no longer around her waist. At her right shoulder however, remains her flaxen-haired worker bee.
Bianca Simpson, FAWN’s long-time Jobber Extraordinaire, having made little difference in keeping the former beach fighter at the top spot, seems still considered worthwhile in the role of lackey. Braddock motions Simpson to precede her, dropping rose petals from a bag in front of the sneering former best in the world.
Not that she’s competent as a combatant, but Bianca is dressed for battle in her simple red one-piece battle attire, white boots and pads completing the flop’s wardrobe.
BIANCA SIMPSON
The curvy Quake strides toward the battleground in her booty-blasting blue gear, the two-piece accentuating her curves both bottom and topside, the outfit including knee-high athletic socks, her boots traded in for sporty Chuck Taylors.
KAT BRADDOCK:
Kat’s gear (
and ( ).Braddock barks with the assembled, responding to snickering slights from the crowd, the sellout throng loving the comeuppance for Kat from the newly signed roster add who made a cataclysmic re-appearance, at least as far as The Brat is concerned.
As the duo reach ringside, Kat directs Bianca to the announcer’s table where the golden-maned drone grabs the man’s stick.
Simpson returns and leads her boss up the steps, then sits on the middle cable, pushing up the top, leaving plenty of room for Kat to enter between.
Braddock moves to the middle of the ring, Bianca follows her in, microphone still in hand.
As the champ’s music fades, Simpson starts to draw it to her lips when Braddock rips it from her hands, the crowd ‘OOOOHING’, hoping to give Bianca a backbone. There’s none to be found.
“Your great honor is to watch the greatest champion in FAWN history reclaim her proper place.”
The FAWNatics vehemently disagree.
“The match is scheduled for one fall with a 60-minute time limit and is for the FAWN World Championship!”
“First. From Newport Beach, California. Standing five feet two inches tall and weighing in at 123 pounds. The Woman Who Sets the World Atremble and the REAL World Champion. …KAT BRADDOCK!”
The fireplug blonde drops the stick and stomps to her corner, Bianca behind her, massaging the shoulders of her boss, at least until Kat shrugs her off.
“Get down there. And Bianca…”
Simpson holds her breath, looking worried.
“Make yourself useful.”
“Yes Miss Braddock. I promise. I will.”
Bianca slips through the ropes and drops to the floor as Braddock turns to await the World Champion, Kat almost choking on the very thought.
Having apparently discovered a back-up microphone under the table, the man paid to complete introductions takes the place of the challenger.
“And her opponent…”
The horde, wanting to stick it to the California Quake roars to its feet.
“Hailing from Atlantic City, New Jersey… She stands five feet eight inches tall and weighs in tonight at one hundred and thirty-three pounds… Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome… YOUR FAWN WORLD CHAMPION…CASEY NEWSMME!!!!!”
”DEFY YOU”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=tSIioK8Fi5g
As the Offspring’s “Defy You” begins to pump over the arena’s sound system, behind the curtain Casey rolls her head from left to right, jogging in place for a moment before throwing a few quick jabs at the air in front of her. Once the lyrics hit, Newsome shoots through the curtain, moving to center stage.
CASEY NEWSOME:
The woman who’d made her name huge after leaving FAWN was now the organization’s World Champ after one match on her return. Beaming, she slaps the gold faceplate covering her taut midriff then lifts her arm high and wide.
“LEMME HEAR YA!!!” the brunette shouts and the FAWNatics do not disappoint her, responding with another thunderous roar.
Apparently satisfied, the newly minted champion starts toward the ring, crisscrossing from the left side of the aisle to right and back to slap hands with the assembled adoring masses.
The quickest way into hearts was beating Braddock and to do it such dominant fashion? They were in love.
Casey wears a metallic blue two piece changed from a one, the better to feel her new hardware close to her skin, a white sash serving as a belt around her waist, tied off just above her right hip. White pads and boots complete her ensemble, save for one glaring detail: a black protective brace, encasing her right knee, an unfortunate accompaniment for the former dancer since the start of her wrestling career. It was now more protective in nature but still a nasty calling card of a life-altering moment that happily led her to a very successful vocation.
Skipping up the ring steps, Newsome turns to face the near ring post before moonwalking her way to the middle of the apron. Turning her back to the ring, Casey takes the top rope in both hands, then earns an “Ooooooooooooh!” from the FAWNatics when she drops into a set of splits—the long ago injury to her knee having apparently done little to rob her of her flexibility. She rolls underneath the bottom rope, lower limbs remaining wide.
Back somersaulting into a handstand before a cringing Kat, Casey deftly drops to her boot soles, unhooks the gaudy belt and raises it high to another outpouring from the fans.
Kat can take no more.
She charges Newsone from behind, THUMPING a forearm shiver into the back of Casey’s skull. The Principal Dancer lurches forward, ending on all fours, having dropped her hardware in the process.
Braddock scoops up the gold and leather and brandishes, motioning with her head for Casey to rise. But before Kat can send it careening into Newsome’s forehead, lead official Nick Castle snatches it away to the great displeasure of the challenger. He slides the title under the ropes to a waiting attendant who has it for a second or two before Bianca claims it, ripping it free and strolling back to Braddock’s corner, possessing it for ‘safe keeping’.
Inside, Nick calls for the bell and it’s a red cape to a bull, Kat charging and NAILING a kneeling Casey in the chin, flattening the larger grappler, hammies atop calves, shoulders to canvas. Braddock dives on top in a crossbody pin for an extraordinary win with the…
ONE…
TWO…
Newsome shoves Kat off, unfolding her stems. She staggers to her feet, massaging and flexing her jaw as she backs into a set of buckles, the predatory Kat ready to push her unearned advantage.
Not fully aware of Braddock’s whereabouts, Newsome EATS a forearm smash from the charging challenger, rocking the head of the brunette. The shorter, fireplug blonde pushes Casey deep into the corner, stuffing her left arm under the newly crowned champion’s chin. With her open right hand, Kat lights up the chest of the Principal Dancer, WHACKING the flesh loudly enough to draw a reflexive ‘WOOO’ from the crowd.
Enjoying the positive response from her haters, Kat loads another and WHACKS Newsome a second and third time, the skin of her foe reddening from the abuse.
“You caught me off guard last month,” Kat purrs. “Now you find out what every other member of the roster knows, bytch. I am this organization.”
Braddock removes her controlling left, so she can pivot and begin applying backhand blasts. The California Quake rockets a chop toward the stinging cleavage of the brunette, but Casey ducks under, grabs her foe around the shoulders, and pushes The Brat into the buckles, taking her place.
The World Champion unloads on her smaller adversary, driving a raised knee deep into Kat’s solar plexus, folding Braddock at the waist, then straightening her with a knee between the eyes of the former champ, snapping the blonde’s head back from the impact.
Seeing the glaze in Braddock’s eyes, Casey turns and jogs to the opposite corner. Slapping the top buckle, she u-turns and sprints at the slumping blonde. Lifting off from several feet out for a massive splash, Newsome’s dark peepers grow wide when Braddock pulls herself out from her role as the landing pad. Casey CRASHES into the empty buckles, whiplashing away from the impact. She staggers toward the middle of the ring, while Kat shakes out some cobwebs.
As Newsome gathers her balance and turns, a racing Kat runs the bigger brunette through with a vicious spear, the force of which few can match. Casey’s creased at the waist from the brutal tackle and PLOWED into the deck, Braddock’s shoulder gutting the new champion as Newsome is THUMPED into the canvas.
The challenger slips to a crossbody pin, hooking the ex-dancer’s braced leg to being the gold back to where it always belongs with the…
ONE…
The Prima Ballerina shoves Braddock off, Kat sent flying to her feet from the heave. The Brat shows concern at the force from which she’s been ejected. However, she’s frozen only for a moment, brought back to animation by the loud boisterous support of her lovely lackey Bianca.
Braddock pops to an inward-facing handstand next to the splayed Newsome then drops her knees toward Casey’s ivory midriff. But the champ deftly protects her bruised belly, catching Braddock’s kneecaps in her palms, then thrusting her foe away. Kat somersaults to the side, quickly bouncing to her boot soles while a grimacing Newsome pushes to her feet.
Casey backpedals to a corner for some recovery time, but The Brat is interested in any allowances. Braddock charges. If once was good, twice would be better. She dips a shoulder to gore the long, lean abdomen of the former dancer with another impaling tackle. Unfortunately for the challenger and her stooge on the sidelines, it’s Casey’s turn to flee the scene and Kat travels between the buckles, RAMMING her right shoulder into the cold steel of the ring post.
With the FAWNatics roaring their approval, the titleholder gives the ample and available backside of the blonde a side kick to the tush that propels Braddock’s bruised shoulder back into the steel a second time, Kat howling in pain. Newsome wraps her arms around the plush tummy of the blonde and yanks the Quake free of her predicament. However, Braddock’s quickly tugged into a front facelock by the recent signee from FAWN’s primary competition.
Casey vaults Kat high into the air, Braddock’s boot soles pointed to the rafters for a moment before Newsome pivots and drops the blonde’s shins across the top rope. Using the spring of the rubber-coated steel, Casey hurls Braddock up and over with a slingshot suplex.
Slingshot Suplex ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gj6mq4VC5FU )
Braddock’s spine SLAMS to the thinly-sheathed floorboards and she arches in anguish, her left hand reaching back to assuage the pain of her lower vertebrae. Behind the blonde, an energized champ kips to her feet and turns to view the wreckage. She takes a step to reacquire the faltering challenger when The Brat’s minion hops to the apron, shouting at the brunette.
Slowly, Casey’s head turns toward Simpson. Less slowly, she decides to eliminate the bungling Bianca from the equation, sprinting at the Quake’s crony and nailing Simpson in the chops with a forearm blast. Bianca takes flight, soaring from apron to steel barricade non-stop. Her lithe frame collides with the steel and crumples, pooling at its base, the crowd adoring the toady’s destruction.
Regrettably for the grinning champ, Simpson’s done her job as The Brat attacks from Newsome’s blindspot, throwing a chop block into the braced leg of the Prima Ballerina. Casey collapses, yelping in agony as she grasps her left knee, pulling the limb in close. The brunette butt-scoot toward a corner, but Braddock isn’t having it, snatching the leg at the ankle and pulling a plaintive Newsome toward center stage.
Kat steps over the long, sinewy stem of the champ, her bulbous bum pointed toward the Newsome’s noggin. With the injured wheel in her possession, Kat scoots backwards with the limb, curling both the single leg and Casey’s spine in a dual torture, Newsome squealing in pain from the ruthless submission attempt by The Brat.
Single-leg Boston Crab ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=mWJFQG4j1iQ )
Casey claws at the canvas in front of her, desperate to find a way out, the abuse to her figurative Achilles’ heel sending shockwaves of pain through her body. Slowly, Newsome skids along the mat, her curled fingers stretching for salvation. But as she closes within inches, Kat rises from her crouch and drags the mewling brunette back to dead center to reapply.
Bianca, up and leaning heavily against the apron, gives the challenger a single-woman ovation, flexing her sore jaw with mumbled words of encouragement.
Within the battleground, before Braddock can reset her Crab, a desperate Newsome spins to her back and plants the boot of her free leg between Kat’s glutes. Pistoning her leg outward, the champ frees herself, Kat sent lurching forward with surprising force, not only losing her grip but tumbling neck-first across the uppermost cable, hotshotted against the springy strand.
As a gasping, choking Braddock staggers around the ring, Casey tries her best to push to her feet. It’s a process, as the grimacing brunette struggles, hobbling to a corner once vertical. With the buckles to lean against, she gingerly works her heavily braced lower limb until she can manage enough limping mobility to bring herself back into the fight.
Rubbing her flushed throat, Kat’s ready for a lock-up, offering her extended arms toward Newsome, only to pull them back at the last moment and try to gut the newly-minted World Champion with a toe kick. Casey latches onto the limb at the ankle before it can strike home. Throwing it in reverse with all the strength she can manage with an unsteady base, the Principal Dancer nevertheless sends Braddock’s head and torso hurtling forward as her leg swings back, Kat faceplanting into the deck at the brunette’s feet.
Braddock props on her elbows, a set of fingers pressing against each side of her throbbing beak.
“You’re dead,” Kat grunts nasally into her palms.
The champ isn’t interested, having taken off for the ropes at the blonde’s left side. Rebounding, the agile Newsome forward flips, placing one hand on the canvas as she otherwise somersaults through the air, guiding her way to CRASH the back of her right leg across the rear of Kat’s skull with a Somersault Leg Drop.
Somersault Leg Drop ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mh-yfvyBhj0 )
Kat’s face SLAMS into the deck from the force of the blow. A steady trickle of red leaks from the Quake’s left nostril as she’s shoved to her back, The Brat’s hazel eyes glassy from another collision of forehead to floorboards.
Casey scoops both tanned stems and rolls to a back press against Kat’s chest, Braddock’s caboose pointed to the rafters as she’s cradled into a pinfall for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
The challenger’s body springs open to the great relief of her flaxen-haired patsy, Kat saving herself for the moment. Bianca’s two raised fingers match Castle’s, as the faltering Braddock, pushing to all fours, seems too dazed to even attempt to crawl to safety.
Her hesitancy is no problem for a risen Boardwalk Boss who helps the confused Kat to her feet. But upon reaching vertical, Braddock shoves free from the surprised brunette. The Quake turns and hauls ass to the ropes, vaulting to the middle cable while she grabs the top. Only on her rubber-coated springboard for an instant, the fireplug former champion u-turns into a cross-body splash across the chest of the newly minted titleholder.
The Brat’s eyes go wide when the destroyer-class Jersey girl simply catches the former beach fighter from the Left Coast instead of being bowled over. A beaming Newsome shakes her head knowingly as Braddock squirms within her clutches. There’s no escape until the bigger brunette swings Kat beside her hip then seamlessly shifts her captured foe in the opposite direction, laying out and PLANTING Kat face and chest-first into the deck with a Swinging Flatliner.
Swinging Flatliner ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=3xDGTLQmv8E )
Braddock absently flops to her back from the brutal force of the impact, but Casey passes on a pin, apparently believing her adversary has enough energy left to avoid the three-count. Instead, Newsome moves to a stance behind the reeling Kat, and pulls Braddock up to a seated position by her wrists. With the FAWNatics cheering her on, Newsome steps over Braddock’s shoulders, right then left, and flexes her thighs to place a vice-like scissors tight to the skull of the flagging champ-turned-challenger.
With the scissors secure, Casey releases Kat’s wrists and works at her foe’s head and neck with a cravat grip, wrenching the noggin of the blonde. Wearing down the increasingly slack Braddock, Casey reaches further down and folds Kat’s abbreviated stems in a figure four. Snatching the extended stem at the ankle like a handle, Casey tugs ferociously on her carefully crafted stump puller, attempting to force a submission.
Modified Stump Puller ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=QHGsk3CAUtU )
Kat howls in anguish as a worried Bianca sweeps her fingers through long, golden locks, in disbelief this FAWN newbie is eating her boss for lunch a second time.
The Cali Quake seems completely trapped, face turning rosy, left knee ligaments stretched to the snapping point.
“Let’s see if I can’t get you in the market for a matching brace,” the Prima Ballerina chirps, Kat alternating between mewls, yelps and pleas to ‘STAHP’.
Convinced the end may be near, Castle drops to a knee in front of a teary-eyed Braddock, asking The Brat if she wants to give in. Despite her hazel peepers being filled to the brim with slaty discharge, Braddock shakes off the offer as much as she’s able within the clenching thighs of her foe.
Impressed by Kat’s resolve, Casey sits out, drawing Kat to her back as she does, Braddock still controlled by the extended leg, her ass cheeks pointed to the rafters in an undeniable pin for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Braddock’s shoulders remain tight to the canvas for THREE. However, there’s no third slap reverberating in Newsome’s ears. The crowd rains boos on the ring and more particularly, the Brat’s sycophant. With Castle’s ankles near the ropes, Bianca reached under, wrapping a palm around each, and dragged FAWN’s lead ref out of the ring just as he was about to confirm Kat a two-time loser to the recent signee.
A furious Nick spins on Simpson and berates Kat’s minion. Bianca is barking right back until the redfaced ref screams “YOU’RE OUT OF HERE!”
Castle points up the ramp as an apoplectic Bianca throws a hissy fit.
The crowd continues to count the result inside…FOUR…FIVE…SIX!
Finally, Casey releases, tosses the should-be-beaten Braddock’s leg aside, rises, and walks to the ropes, staring down at Castle and Kat’s crony.
“OUT!” shouts Nick. “Or you’re suspended for six months!”
Those seem the magic words, as while Simpson continues to jaw with the man in stripes and the fans along the aisle as she retreats, Bianca heeds the warning and heads for the back.
Behind the distracted brunette, an aching but obstinate Braddock pulls the destroyer-class Jersey girl off her boot soles, rolling the champion up in a small package.
Relieved of Bianca’s distractions, Castle slides back in the ring to give Simpson’s boss the sneaky count she’s looking for with the…
ONE…
TWO…
Newsome kicks loose and scrambles to her feet, clothesline drawn to knock Kat into next week. Braddock has other ideas, having bailed out under the bottom rope, landing her feet on the arena floor, and pointing at her right temple with an index finger, proving to anyone not already aware she’s not only too tenacious to lose to Jersey trash twice in a row, but too smart as well.
On her own, Bianca in the back, Braddock shakes out her sore left leg, a definite hitch in her giddy-up as she paces the hard cam side of the ring.
Becoming impatient within, Casey times the former champ, backpedaling to the far ropes and springing out of them at full speed. She sprints toward the clueless blonde, preparing for a suicide dive into the California Quake.
But as Casey lowers to launch between the top and middle ropes, Braddock’s been playing possum. She leaps toward Newsome’s exit space and catches her clean with a forearm shiver to the jaw. A wobbling Casey staggers away from the impact, remaining in the ring, as Kat slides in the squared circle to join her, pops to her feet, and charges.
Regaining her balance, the Principal Dancer turns to find her adversary and discovers all too much, as Kat leaps into a running hip check to the brunette’s chest. To her credit, the champ totters but remains upright. Newsome’s persistence gives Braddock the opportunity to send a nasty stomp to the Prima Ballerina’s braced left knee, a grimacing Casey genuflecting in front of the challenger.
Second wind filling her sails, Kat cups a hand under Newsome’s chin and guides the Atlantic City native to rubbery legs. Measuring her foe, Braddock snatches Newsome’s left wrist with her right hand, so she can fold the limb out of the path of her next assault.
Leaning back, Kat thrusts her skull forward, sending her signature Heart Butt into Casey’s ticker, forcing the brunette’s blood pumper to skip a beat from the impact. Casey’s dark eyes roll white and she takes a header to the canvas from the literal heart attack.
The snarling blonds grabs Newsome’s ankles and spins her foe’s legs, so they face the nearest corner. Kat drops the stems then spreads them with a couple kicks before striding to the buckles and quickly scrambling to the top, turning to face her target.
With the runaway to Casey’s crotch wide open, Braddock leaps with arms tight to her sides a single file of destruction with Kat’s hard head leading the way. The Brat’s second ramming blow to a supremely sensitive location sends Casey bolt upright to a pained seat, hands flashing deep between her thighs, drawn there by the nauseating waves of pain caused by Kat’s head butt from the penthouse to her privates.
With Newsome’s eyes welling and face pale, Braddock rises to her kneecaps, cradles her arms behind the back of the brunette’s knees and presses forward, folding the kitty-blasted Jersey girl into an anguished matchbook for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
The brunette destroyer barely survives, shoving from under the woman she bested to take FAWN’s top spot only last month.
Straddling Casey’s waist in a forward-facing perch, the vicious Kat fashions her fingers into curled tines and sinks them deep into the spandex-sheathed bosom of the brunette. With dual claws digging into the tender tissue, Braddock mauls at Newsome’s chest, drawing mewls and yips of pain from the Jersey girl.
Showing a willingness to stoop as low as she needs to go, the California Quake drags a teary-eyed Casey up by the probing digits, the champ pulled to her feet by her breasts!
Standing face to face, The Brat loosens her grips and unleashes with windmill slaps to Casey’s gurls, exacerbating the pain, Newsome backpedaling into a corner to find a place to defend herself against the onslaught.
But the flaxen-haired fireplug shows the reason why she kept the World belt for over a year, not allowing Newsome a chance to recover, racing toward her larger foe and BLASTING the brunette with a running hip check to the sternum.
Trying her best to create some space and endure, the Principal Dancer shoves Braddock back several steps.
The effort only flames the fury in the hazel eyes of the challenger and Kat races back at her adversary, throwing her short but curvy frame into the titleholder with an avalanche splash, burying the bigger woman in a crushing display that sends a reeling Newsome to her backside.
Jogging out to center stage, Kat makes a u-turn for another rush toward the faltering Casey. Braddock dives in a crossbody THUMP of Newsome, rocking the recent signee with a Cali Sandwich.
Cali Sandwich ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=zQbKiIEluic )
The slumping Casey’s long, ivory legs are kicked wide and again the unrelenting challenger takes a short lap of the squared circle, then sprints back at her liquefying foe. From several feet out, Kat launches with a dropkick to each of her foe’s inner thighs, forcing the lower limbs into a painful leg spread.
With a wincing Casey grasping at her groin muscles, the Brat inches forward and climbs into the lap of the wavering Prima Ballerina. The Quake wraps her abbreviated but muscular stems around the midriff of Newsome and cinches her limbs tight while simultaneously tugging Casey’s pained, anxious features into her ample chest with a front sleeper grip.
Her Brat Pack finisher expertly applied, Casey begins succumbing to the anguish and breathlessness of the scissoring and suffocating combination. A tardy Castle starts his count with Newsome’s flagging frame collapsing into dishrag status as she can only suckle against the chest of the challenger, finding no oxygen, while Braddock attempts to snap her ribs.
Finally forced to release just before ‘FIVE’, Kat disengages from her scissors and breathtaking grip and back somersaults away from the wreckage of the greasy-faced brunette, Kat popping to her feet, sweat-soaked, yet somehow looking fresh.
“Jersey girl, you done woken up the Beach in me,” Kat informs.
She surrounds the head of the champ with both hands and hauls a rubbery Casey to wobbly feet.
“Maybe I should thank you for opening my eyes, making me hungry again. But I’ll tell you, nobody else will do it, because you brought back the feral Kat and that’s the worst kind.”
Braddock drives a toe kick DEEP into Newsome’s navel, doubling her foe. She tosses a limp arm of the Atlantic City native over her shoulders while pulling Casey into a front facelock and snatching a handful of spandex on the champ’s hip.
With a frightening ease, the curvy blonde ‘hups’ her bigger, but raggedy-ass rival into a cradled position tight to her chest. The silenced FAWNatics don’t need to guess where this is going and The Brat shows them the way, laying out and SPIKING Casey’s cranium into the canvas-covered floorboards with a gruesome Kat Nap.
Kat Nap ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=1nNeUWdGDSo )
The crowd groans as Casey tumbles into a starfish.
A sneering Braddock rises to her knee and ‘walks’ to the dark-maned rubble, placing one palm on the cleft of Newsome’s bosom and another on her softly gulping tummy for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREEE!
Many a chin of the assembled masses drops to a chest as they’re forced to the realization the woman they love to hate has become the organization’s top talent for a second time after only one month away from the throne.
The bell rings out at Castle’s direction and the ring announcer makes it official.
“Your winner by pinfall and NEW FAWN World Champion…KAT BRADDOCK!”
Braddock allows Castle to grab a wrist and assist the new queen (same as the old queen) to her feet, handing over the hardware to a smirking Kat. The curvy blonde plants a boot sole on Casey’s crotch and raises her arms high and wide, the gold and leather in her left hand.
“You thought this Janey-Come-Lately was the real deal,” Braddock shouts to anyone who’ll listen. “Girl defines flash in the pan. Fool’s Gold. I’m the genuine article and I’m making the second chapter a hell of a lot longer than the first.”
With that emphatic and, to some, depressing thought, the screen fades to black, just like the hopes of everyone in attendance.