Post by hawkeye on Jun 4, 2024 1:49:30 GMT
Having won their way to a tag title challenge, two of the most accomplished members of the First Family of women’s wrestling embrace behind the curtain. Thrown together through circumstances, the siblings extricate and gaze at each other with soft smiles.
“For Mom,” Skye whispers.
“And Dad, Sophie and Tammy,” Cynthia responds.
“And Ivy,” the younger Mitchell adds.
“But not Charlie,” Cyn chuckles.
“Hell no,” Skylar giggles. “Not that bytch.”
As Darius Rucker’s ‘Southern Style’ bursts over the speakers and the crowd jumps to its feet, the women turn to the entranceway, partners for only the second time in their careers but with glory and gold within their reach.
“Let’s go,” they offer in unison and head out, moving to center stage under the deafening support of the FAWNatics.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hpKFRP05Po4 )
Skylar’s gear is the familiar and familial violet of the Mitchell clan, a tight spandex two-piece of sports top and trunks, white pads and boots completing the wardrobe.
SKYLAR MITCHELL
A moment behind, it’s the Carolina Hurricane’s turn to reach shore.
CYNTHIA MITCHELL
Cynthia strides purposefully to her sibling, the elder Mitchell hardly a behemoth, but clearly the ‘big girl’ between them.
The Hellion is clad in identical gear to her kid sis, the Mitchells going all in with the newly formed family affair.
Natalie’s daughters share a high ten, then together they head for the ring, not wasting any time.
Skye makes it a point to slap EVERY single hand offered her way-- especially the younger ones--as she lopes down the aisle. Behind her, Cyn is all business, ignoring either side as she marches behind baby sis.
Reaching the ring, the Mitchells take to opposite hard-cam side corners and hop to the apron simultaneously. They raise their arms high and wide to the assembled, celebrating with their supporters in eager anticipation, both women among the highest caliber tag grapplers, but never together before their win against Dawson and Soto to garner the Mayhem title gig.
Skye turns and grabs the top rope, leaping over. She moves to the middle as Cynthia slips between the ropes, the elder Mitchell conserving her energy.
The sisters go shoulder to shoulder, Cyn sweeping a protective side hug around America’s one and only remaining Sweetheart as the ring announcer provides their formal introduction.
“Tonight’s next match is scheduled for one fall with a 60-minute time limit. First, each hailing from the Queen City…Charlotte, North Carolina, at a combined weight of 235 pounds...the morning star of a wrestling dynasty, the lil’est but baddest…SKYLAR and the Hellion wind of a Carolina Hurricane…CYNTHIA! THE MITCHELLS!”
The challengers move to their corner after acknowledging the ovation and there, they fidget through the customary pat-down from Nick Castle. Once done, the sisters discuss their options and turn to the upper stage, awaiting the titleholders.
Their first defense of the tag titles delayed by Heather’s chance to add World Champion to her burgeoning resume, the Dream Team waits impatiently for their turn tonight, the crowd’s ovation for the challengers impressive.
Behind the curtain, the duo many still consider a peculiar pairing, readies for their next adventure, but this time with pounds of gold and leather around their waists.
The blonde ingenue from the heart of Texas and the reformed Lisa Legend from New York City bounce anxiously on the balls of their feet, confidence brimming despite Crofton coming up short of unseating the malicious Kat Braddock.
The Girl from Grapevine nods at her partner, no longer a young nervous Nelly. Lisa returns the acknowledgment.
“Don’t let their history or their family’s folklore intimidate you,” Dream insists. “They’re the challengers for a reason. Because right now. We’re the best team in the world.”
“We are,” comes an entusiastic reply.
As the buzzing in the crowd grows, the guileless youngster gives her illustrious partner an embrace and, when her partner’s infamous accompaniment fills the darkened arena, the Lone Star Girl and the Personification of Perfection push through the curtains and set themselves center stage.
O Fortuna (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EJC-_j3SnXk )
A single spot breaks the gloom and the FAWNatics’ volume rises in a crescendo, joining the stirring music as the industry icon is illuminated. The noise grows to ear-splitting levels when the adorable and adored Heather joins Lisa at her side.
Sins washed away, the crowd welcomes Dream and her darling cohort with a resounding ovation, Heather bouncing with energy she cannot contain and Lisa echoing the excitement of the Texan, pumping her fist, drawing the Dreamophiles into a further frenzy.
The Dream is a reborn vision in white. A diaphanous pale miniskirt makes her appear an angel that escaped the demons imprisoning her to find salvation in the mortal realm. And for the Dreamers in the audience, everyone from the massive reaction, Lisa’s ivory legs are finally in view, perfection covered only to mid-thigh by the delicate skirt. Ankle boots and pads are in white as well.
Next to her, the flaxen-haired Lone Star Girl pleads with The Dream to take the lead, but Lisa directs the youngster on her way, motioning for the surging superstar to take point.
Crofton heads for battle in her familiar battle gear, a yellow two-piece consisting of spandex boy-cut trunks and a cross-shoulder top, the side of the shorts includes a window of crisscrossed strips along with white pads and boots.
( i.imgur.com/4SRiQzy.jpg ) (without the snorkel gear and in yellow)
LISA DREAM
HEATHER CROFTON
The Dream walks down the ramp and aisle at her teammate’s six, sending chills down the spine of every long-time FAWNatic who can hardly believe they’re screaming their lungs out for the formerly vindictive vixen and, perhaps more amazingly, a tag team titleholder.
Each champion offers their palms to the masses on the way, Heather looking more comfortable with the love showered upon them, but The Dream growing more relaxed with every passing month of adulation.
Reaching the ring, Lisa allows Heather to be her ambassador, Crofton taking a lap around the squared circle, her hand connecting with every offered her.
Meanwhile, the reincarnated legend ascends the ring steps, halts for a long look at her adversaries, then slips through the ropes. She waits in the middle until the tough, little Texan joins her. Together, they applaud the exalting audience.
Without her previously omnipresent microphone, Dream and her protege move to their home corner where they’re checked by Nick. As Lisa’s music fades, the announcer takes on her duties.
“And their opponents. At a combined weight of 245 pounds…hailing from New York, New York and Grapevine, Texas respectively, the Ultimate Image of Human Perfection…the Yellow Rose. Lisa Dream. Heather Crofton. The Dream Team!”
The eclectic duo shares a high five, hand over their hardware, then huddle to discuss who will take the lead leg in their initial defense. It’s hardly a surprise when Lisa steps away from the summit, Crofton slipping through the ropes.
Opposite them, the challengers respond with a similarly veteran presence, Cynthia ushering Skye to her position on the outside, the two future Hall of Famers ready to step forward with gold on the line.
The bell brings the match to order and the tram leaders waste no time in striding to each other. They thrust forward as they close, locking in a collar-and-elbow tie-up. The brunettes struggle for an advantage in a tense tango center stage.
“You may have them fooled,” Cyn grunts in Dream’s ear, “but I know better.”
“Think what you want,” Lisa responds. “You were lucky enough to get cheered for your offenses.”
Spurred by Mitchell’s words or not, the Ultimate Image marches Cynthia to the Dream Team’s corner, stuffing her foe’s spine into the buckles and lifting Cyn’s head with a forearm beneath her chin.
Crofton gives Lisa a look as if asking if she should grab the challenger and hold her, but Dream offers a scant shake of her head and the Lone Star Girl remains glued in place.
Castle calls for the break and it’s given, Lisa breaking her grip, raising her hands, and stepping back several yards. Mitchell smirks, shaking her head. She steps forward with arms extended.
“It’ll take more than that to make me a believUHHH.”
Dream drives a toe kick into Cynthia’s alabaster abdomen, doubling over the Mitchell clan’s most accomplished legacy. The fabled, multi-fed icon snatches the Carolina Hurricane in a side headlock and wrenches on the braincase of her foe.
“As Tom Petty said, you believe what you wanna believe.”
Racing forward with the Hellion in tow, Lisa launches with legs extended and drops to her perfect ass cheeks, PLANTING Cynthia’s forehead into the deck with an immaculate bulldog. Mitchell flops absently to her back from the collision, but The Dream doesn’t bother with a pin attempt, knowing full well it’s too early to expect a three-count.
Instead, Lisa shoves Cyn to her chest and knee-walks to her adversary’s feet. Dream plucks Cynthia’s lower legs off the deck and crosses them at the ankles then slides forward to a straddle of the Cynful One’s waistline.
With half of her Dreamy Stretch secured, Lisa lifts and slips under Mitchell’s right side, then applies a nasty crossface grip, capturing her challenger in an early vulnerable position.
Dreamy Stretch ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=GwQQod_g_7A )
Lisa works her fellow veteran like a part-time job, tormenting the Hellion’s legs, back, arm, neck, and head, nearly every piece of Mitchell’s body put to the test in a perfect display of an excruciating submission.
Nick drops to all fours to get in the face of the grimacing Mitchell.
“Whaddya say, Cynthia.”
The response is a muffled “F you” and Castle waves off any ideas Cyn’s given in, rewarding the “PLEASE…DON’T…TAP” chants offered by many but not all in the audience.
After surviving for a dozen long seconds, Mitchell sighs as her top half flops to the canvas upon its release. Lisa slides off the crossed legs, letting them unfold as she pushes to her feet.
With the challenger in a bad way, Lisa latches onto a wrist and shoulder, drags the Carolina Hurricane to her boot soles, and heaves Cynthia back to the Dream Team corner. It’s a short trip and Mitchell doesn’t have time to turn, SLAMMING into the buckles chest first. The Dream’s quick to follow, lowering a shoulder and plowing it into the base of Cynthia’s spine.
As the Hellion arches in agony, Lisa disengages and hands the keys over to Heather, reaching over Cyn’s right shoulder and tapping the left of the Yellow Rose.
“Be careful, she’ll do anything to win,” The Dream advises as she follows the legal boundaries of the match and exits as Crofton enters.
“Got it,” the blonde answers, turning the wincing Cynthia to face her, then scooping under the thighs of the FAWN original and placing a seated Mitchell on the top cushion. Quickly rising with her foe, Heather moves to a stance on the middle ropes and pulls Mitchell there as well.
But the Hellion isn’t ready for flight without a fight and a barroom brawl breaks out on the elevated position, the Carolina Hurricane and the Lone Star Girl alternately landing clenched right hands until Cyn’s arms drop to her side from the barrage. The Texan pounds the dazed Mitchell until the brunette plops to her previous seat.
Popping off her penthouse perch, the beloved babyface wraps her sinewy thighs around the noggin of the former tag champ and RIPS her rival off the top buckle with a hurricarana, Cynthia sent forward flipping through the Orlando airspace, landing hard on her backbone and sliding within a few feet of her clearly concerned sibling.
Momentum places Mitchell in another seat, Cyn reaching for her aching lower vertebrae. But understanding her position, she ignores the pain to scramble and dive to Skylar’s outstretched hand before Heather can arrive and keep the abuse accumulating.
Reflexively, the Girl From Grapevine backpedals a few steps as the younger Mitchell enters, her caution creating a space of which Skye takes advantage. The American Sweetheart leaps into a startled Heather with a meteora, riding her fellow blonde to the canvas, shins on shoulders. Skylar lets loose on the Yellow Rose with a Thesz Press series of left-right combinations that transfers control to the acclaimed challengers, Mitchell only relenting when Heather is a glassy-eyed mess.
Dismounting Heather, Mitchell tugs the champ to her feet via a wrist and shoulder and spins her foe into an Irish Whip. As Crofton sprints, then crunches against the corner with enough force for the Texan to rebound toward center stage, Skylar hits the ropes to Miss Mustang’s left. The Carolina Cutie snatches Heather’s head on the race by and PLOWS the face of the Yellow Rose into the deck with her favorite variation of the bulldog Lisa used earlier on Big Sis.
Corner Bulldog ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hc2GYTV9ZpM )
The shellshocked Lone Star Girl remains face down from the attack and when Skye scampers to the levelled Crofton, she pushes Heather’s motionless carcass to its back. The younger Mitchell sibling dives across the chest of the splayed Yellow Rose, making the Dream Team’s time at the top as short as any in the division’s history, with the…
ONE…
TWO…
Miss Mustang resuscitates enough to push a shoulder off the canvas and flop to her side, keeping the Dreamers in the those assembled hopeful if not happy.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Skylar says while pulling Crofton up with her, “but why the hell do you get a World Title shot before me? This place.”
Mitchell bullies the wobbly Lone Star Girl to a couple feet within the wriggling fingers of The Dream, then pivots and sends Lisa’s partner hurtling toward enemy territory. Heather turns, races, then literally flies into the buckles, THWUMPING into the light padding. The potency turns her stems to jelly and the Texan plops to her per posterior, limp legs stretched in front of her, chin drooping to her chest.
America’s Sweetheart is on her horse after seeing Crofton’s vulnerable position. The dirty blonde locks are flying as she hustles across the canvas and spins 90 degrees into a heavy hip check to Heather’s features, the Lone Star Gril rocked by another potential concussive collision.
With a dazed Heather sinking lower into a reclined position against the bottom buckle, a grin emerges on Mitchell’s mug.
Turning her cheeks to the glazed eyes of Miss Mustang, Skye STUFFS her ass into Heather’s face, scrubbing nose, mouth and chin with her spandex-sheathed backside, forcing Crofton to ‘Kiss My Grits’ with the signature stinkface from the Lil’est Mitchell.
A flailing Heather pushes against Skye’s thighs but only emerges from the hot box when the Carolina Cutie dismounts of her own accord, leaving a breathless, greasy-faced Yellow Rose to suck in deep pulls of oxygen, eyes blinking wide to try and return her bearings.
“I’m having fun,” Skye says to her nearby Big Sis, “but I feel like you could really teach her better than anyone.”
Skylar offers her palm and a greedy Cynthia taps for entry.
Unlike the Dream Teamers, both sisters remain on the inside after the tag and together they shuffle Heather halfway down the ropes before launching her across the canvas with a double Irish whip, ready to go family style on the young tag titlist.
Together, the Mitchells wait for the return of Miss Mustang mid-ring. The wide-eyed blonde shoots out of the ropes and the dipping duo launches Heather toward the rafters. Crofton flips only far enough to land with a ring-rattling THWUMP on her spine courtesy the back body drop.
The champ arches in pain from the impact, grasping at her lower spine. She rises to a seated position, face etched in pain.
The challengers continue to push legality to the limits, Skye racing to the ropes in front of Crofton, Cynthia to those behind. The sisters bounce of the strands and meet at their target, each landing dropkicks simultaneously, the younger sibling plowing her boot soles into the blonde’s chest, the elder into her foe’s shoulderblades. They sandwich the babyfaced blonde and the Girl From Grapevine is rocked by the double-teaming.
On the outside, Dream can take no more, slipping through the ropes and charging the rising Cyn. Seamlessly, the Carolina Hurricane scoops Lisa off her feet as she arrives, arms looping under the ivory thighs of the Ultimate Image. The Hellion lifts Lisa several feet into the air before bringing her down on bended knee, DRIVING the plank of her upper leg into the crotch of The Dream with an Inverted Atomic Drop.
Lisa’s face twists in agony as she hops off the limb, hands buried between her thighs, quickly frozen in place.
With Castle pleading for order to be restored, Skylar continues to press the envelope. Yanking the shellshocked Heather to her feet by her hair, Skye receives Dream from her sister. Right hand full of Lisa’s shoulder-length dark brown locks and left full of the longer flaxen follicles of her fellow Dream Teamer, Skye promotes a meeting of the minds, banging the heads of Lisa and Heather together.
The champs u-turn away from each other after impact, the FAWNatics groaning at the sight. However, a fair number remain supportive of the First Family’s efforts. The younger Mitchell grabs the back rim of Dream’s skirt and a shoulderstrap and runs Lisa Legend to the cables, tossing her through. The dirty blonde follows her adversary out in more controlled fashion, dropping to the floor next to a puddled Dream and heading back to her corner.
Inside, Cynthia corrals the wayward Yellow Rose, leaping toward her dazed adversary, wrapping her arms around Crofton’s noggin at her highest point and PLANTING Heather’s skull into the deck with her signature Carolina Blues.
Carolina Blues ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=4tXjmTPxmUo )
The Lone Star Girl absently flops to her back from the force of the collision and Cyn scrambles atop the splayed blonde, hooking the far leg and rolling to a back press for the…
ONE…
TWO…
The stubborn Texan kicks loose, rolling to her side, eyes vacant, but title reign still intact for the moment. Heather shakes her head, trying to rattle some senses back in place. She glances longingly at the Dream Team corner, unoccupied, Lisa on the floor crawling back toward her legal location.
On her own for the time being, Crofton pushes toward verticality and a risen Cynthia helps her there, then bullies the wobbly Heather to a neutral corner. Mitchell loads a European Uppercut and rocks the fan favorite under her chin, snapping back the head of Miss Mustang.
Cyn shuffles the champ by a few steps and climbs the corner, turning to face the wavering Crofton. Heather faces in Mitchell’s direction but is clueless to her whereabouts as she struggles to regain her bearings. Cynthia gathers and takes flight, RAMMING a pointed knee into the left temple of the blonde with her Cynsational Sledge.
Cynsational Sledge ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cx_uxPRKyTA ) :11
Heather pirouettes then plummets to a spreadeagle position next to a quickly rising Mitchell.
As a returned Dream implores her young protégé, starting a rhythmic clap with the help of the many Dreamers in the audience, Cyn strides confidently to the corner of the First Family and returns the keys to her younger sibling.
America’s remaining Sweetheart chooses not to slide between the cables, even as Cynthia follows Nick’s instruction to depart. Instead, she climbs the corner from the outside to a precarious perch atop the buckles. From there, Skye takes to her namesake, springing stratospherically high. The Carolina Cutie collapses into a tight tuck at her zenith then descends toward the splayed Heather and CRUSHES the pale abs of the Girl From Grapevine with a perfect frog splash. Skylar settles atop the gutted champion in a lateral press, ready to claim the belts for her and Big Sis with the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Lisa intercedes, scrambling through the ropes and diving into the pinning predicament, pushing the Lil’est Mitchell off her partner with a half-tick to spare.
Knowing Cyn isn’t one to allow interference, at least from others, Dream’s on her feet quickly and, with Cynthia halfway through the strands, one leg in, one leg out, the Ultimate Image falls back on her checkered past for payback. The icon grabs the middle rope and THRUSTS it upward into the elder Mitchell’s privates. Cynthia’s eyes roll back in her head from the wave of pain emanating from below, jaw dropping open.
“You bytch,” the challenger squeaks.
“You’re thinking of payback, not me,” Dream responds, and she shoves the weak-kneed Cyn out, Mitchell bouncing off the apron’s edge and puddling on the arena floor.
Lisa turns to find Skye on her feet and thrusting a toe kick toward her alabaster abdomen. But Dream catches the challenger’s leg at the ankle before she can bury the blow and has the younger sibling bouncing on her planted foot, a look of concern on Mitchell’s face.
Skye launches into an enziguri attempt but Lisa ducks under. The effort does free Skylar from the legend’s grasp and she clambers to a poised position, ready for the Dream’s attack.
However, with her focus on the Personification of Perfection, the Carolina Cutie doesn’t notice a risen Heather. Crofton dips her shoulders and skewers Skye’s midriff with a gutting spear. Instead of planting Mitchell to the deck, she lifts and carries a wriggling Skylar to the buckles behind her foe, THWAMMING America’s Sweetheart into the lightly padded junctures.
A large exhale bursts from between Mitchell’s lips as she’s sandwiched and air becomes more of a prized commodity when the Yellow Rose grabs the middle ropes on either side and pistons the shoulder into the tenderized tummy one, two and three times. Finally pulling out, a flushed, glistening Crofton lights up Skye’s cleavage with a double-barreled overhand slap the Lone Star Girl has perhaps misnamed the Love Tap.
An animated Crofton spins the wincing Skye to face the corner and SLAMS her foe’s forehead into the top buckle a half-dozen times, leaving the challenger glassy-eyed and rubber-legged.
The Lone Star Girl surrounds Mitchell’s noggin in a ¾ facelock and pulls the younger sibling out of the corner, but only to take Skylar on a short loop. Heather returns with her cargo, rushing toward the same corner with the Carolina Cutie in tow.
Crofton launches her boot soles to the buckles in front of her, climbing them while leaning into her adversary. Heather backflips over her foe and RAMS the back of Skye’s skull into the thinly-sheathed floorboards with her Texas Toast edition of Sliced Bread.
Texas Toast ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=uoyDE-F5lO4 ) :14
Miss Mustang mounts the rocked Skylar, planting her taut cheeks into Mitchell’s chest with a reverse straddling seat. Heather leans forward and collects both her foe’s legs behind the calves, then leans back to create the matchbook that would keep her and Lisa in possession of the tag belts with the…
ONE…
TWO…
The younger Mitchell shows her family’s fortitude, kicking loose and unfolding her frame with a second to spare. Skye rolls to her chest and slithers along the canvas toward an exit under the bottom rope.
A standing Heather grabs the retreating Mitchell’s right ankle and pulls her foe back to center stage. Crofton flips Skye to her back, but the challenger pulls in both stems, then thrusts them out, pushing the Yellow Rose off. Heather backpedals to her corner from the force where a ready Lisa taps her on the shoulder.
“Sorry kiddo. I want some of this,” Dream apologizes before slipping through the cables.
Crofton exits with a slightly disappointed nod and the Ultimate Image reaches the younger Mitchell just as Skylar reaches her feet. Cyn’s sister doesn’t wait for the legend to strike first, laying into Lisa’s jaw with a forearm shiver that twists the frame of the reformed icon.
Not known for being a brawler, The Dream nevertheless fires back with one of her own and the fight is on, blonde and brunette alternating with blasts until Lisa ducks one and corrals Mitchell in a waistlock after her foe’s spinning swing and miss. The brunette tries to lift Skye for a belly-to-back suplex, but the dirty blonde grapevines a leg around Lisa’s and keeps herself grounded.
The veteran tries again only to be blocked once more and Mitchell breaks Lisa’s linked fingers. She turns to face Dream with another forearm ready, but the Ultimate Image sends a toe kick deep into the Carolina Cutie’s tummy. Lisa claims the lowered head of the challenger in a front facelock, throwing a limp arm over her own shoulders, she then snags Skye’s left leg in a cradle.
Deciding this match requires skipping right to Verse 3 of her Ode to Perfection, Lisa vaults Skye into the air in front of her, then changes course from a suplex, going straight down the way Mitchell came, pounding the Skye back into the deck with Dream’s version of the Rydeen Bomb.
Ode to Perfection Verse 3 ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=VaLjZhQ8YYE )
Pin pre-made, Lisa leans forward with a half-matchbook for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Just recovering to her tag position, Cynthia’s tardy, but Skye forces a shoulder up on her own and keeps the First Family alive in their effort for a shared Mitchell household title.
Lisa shakes her head, a look of astonishment firmly planted. It’s wiped off when Mitchell folds her right leg then stiffly stuffs it into Dream’s chest, sending Lisa Legend back somersaulting clear of the blonde.
Wincing but using the momentum to roll to her feet, Lisa charges a rising Skye, who’s made it to one knee. She levels the feisty Sweetheart with a running knee strike, putting the challenger on Dream Street.
Nightmare on Dream Street ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=zjzNGcHzm2w )
The force sends Skylar flopping over to her chest, face down and unmoving.
On the sidelines, a sweat-soaked and flustered Cyn slaps the top buckle, hoping to inspire Little Sis back to clarity. The Hellion gets plenty of claps from the crowd, but it takes The Dream to tug the semiconscious Skye to her feet.
Cluelessly wobbling, looking like a stiff wind might blow her over, Mitchell is left to slump in place as Dream turns and races to the far ropes where she rebounds at full speed. With the unsteady Skylar bent at the waist, trying to recover, Lisa approaches from the side, circling a HUGE clubbing blow from overhead and POUNDING it in the back of Skye’s skull, the Dreamsicle sending Mitchell face first to the canvas, seemingly out cold.
Dreamisicle ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZlwDduTQL3c&t=52s )
Lisa shovels the drowsy Sweetheart to a spreadeagle and presses tight with a crossbody pin, hooking the far leg for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Salvation comes in the way of Skylar’s sister, Cynthia dropping an elbow into the base of Lisa’s spine to break the pinfall.
As Dream arches in anguish from the attack, the Hellion shoves Lisa Legend off her sister and grabs Skylar by her right wrist.
Sisterly affection be damned with title belts on the line, Cyn tugs her younger sibling cavewoman style to the Mitchells’ corner. She’s dropped when Cynthia slips halfway between the ropes; far enough for Castle to consider the tag on Skye’s limp left hand to be legal.
Mitchell unfolds from her ring entry. However, it’s only enough time to straighten and be served a savage spinning heel kick to the chin from the impeccable icon, Lisa twisting into the brutal connection, flooring Cynthia.
Spinning Heel Kick ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=ExCas-FgOEs ) :10
Passing on the attempt to pin the rocked Carolina Hurricane, the Ultimate Image skips over the sprawled Mitchell and leaps to the middle ropes to Cyn’s left side. Grabbing the top strand as she presses her boots down into the middle, The Dream floats like the perfect feather in a glorious back flip that could be done no better by women twenty years her junior.
Lisa’s midriff SLAPS across the open abdomen of the starfished Cynthia, the Dreamysault positioned perfectly for maximum effect. Cyn jackknifes under the plummeting brunette, eyes bulging, great exhale escaping her lips.
Dreamysault ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-rOycQdAPo ).
With Skye still in no shape to assist her sis, Lisa shoots her title shot, remaining tightly pressed to Mitchell in a crossbody pin, hooking Cynthia’s far leg for the reign extending…
ONE…
TWO…
The Hellion shows the stuff of future Hall of Famers, ignoring her roiling tummy and lack of breath to kick a shoulder off the campus and keep the First Family in the running for the tag gold when a tardy Skylar is late to make the save.
With both Mitchells back in the field of play, if in shabby shape, the Lone Star Girl isn’t about to let Lisa play handicapped. The blonde swiftly enters and pounces on Skye from the side, taking down the Sweetheart with a Texas-sized tackle.
Staggered from the earlier Dreamsicle and the added spear, a loopy Skye is easily tugged back to stooped feet by the fresh Yellow Rose, Heather stuffing the lowered head of the younger Mitchell between her thighs and clamping down in a standing head scissors.
The Dreamers in the crowd are instantly brought to attention by the possibility Lisa’s protégé is about to play a Bittersweet Symphony on the buns of the Carolina Cutie. However, Crofton keeps it brutally professional, lifting a dazed Skye off the deck with a tight embrace of Mitchell’s midriff, then dropping Skye on the crown of her cranium with a flawless rendition of Lisa’s Fallen Angel package piledriver, sending the challenger to Dreamland.
Fallen Angel ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=PdiJ_wAUO4g ) :22
Barely two steps away, Dream has a wobbly Cynthia on her feet. Shoulder to shoulder with the wavering Hellion, both women pointed in the same direction, Lisa curls an arm around the front of Mitchell’s neck. Dream kicks up her near leg for extra momentum, throwing it in reverse hard, and SPIKES Cynthia’s skull into the thinly-sheathed floorboards for one hell of a team daily double courtesy her Day Dreamer.
Day Dreamer ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=mLJ89fhy0gU ) (first one)
After a momentary headstand, Cynthia tumbles to her back, finishing in a spreadeagle next to her unconscious sibling, the elder Mitchell herself out cold.
As an excited Miss Mustang watches, Lisa climbs aboard her comatose challenger in a schoolgirl press pin for an anticlimactic count and an incredibly impressive first defense by the Dream Team, Castle slapping canvas for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREEE!
Nick hops to his feet, calling for the bell, then calling for Dream to dismount the vanquished Cynthia.
“Calm yourself, Castle,” Lisa snarls. “We’ve made our point.”
Indeed, the newly minted tag champions leave the First Family of FAWN lifeless at their feet without incident, the challengers blissfully unaware of the results blasting over the PA.
“Your winners and STILL FAWN Tag Team Champions…Heather Crofton…Lisa Dream…The Dream Team!”
As the victors embrace, Castle is comfortable enough to scurry to the ring’s edge and collect the belts, delivering them post-haste to their owners. He slides between when blonde and brunette finish their clinch, raising each inner wrist as Lisa and Heather push the belts skyward with their opposite hands.
“This is the best feeling in the world,” the Girl From Grapevine chirps to her partner.
“It is pretty damn perfect, isn’t it?” Lisa responds, a wink delivered to the beaming babyface.
“For Mom,” Skye whispers.
“And Dad, Sophie and Tammy,” Cynthia responds.
“And Ivy,” the younger Mitchell adds.
“But not Charlie,” Cyn chuckles.
“Hell no,” Skylar giggles. “Not that bytch.”
As Darius Rucker’s ‘Southern Style’ bursts over the speakers and the crowd jumps to its feet, the women turn to the entranceway, partners for only the second time in their careers but with glory and gold within their reach.
“Let’s go,” they offer in unison and head out, moving to center stage under the deafening support of the FAWNatics.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hpKFRP05Po4 )
Skylar’s gear is the familiar and familial violet of the Mitchell clan, a tight spandex two-piece of sports top and trunks, white pads and boots completing the wardrobe.
SKYLAR MITCHELL
A moment behind, it’s the Carolina Hurricane’s turn to reach shore.
CYNTHIA MITCHELL
Cynthia strides purposefully to her sibling, the elder Mitchell hardly a behemoth, but clearly the ‘big girl’ between them.
The Hellion is clad in identical gear to her kid sis, the Mitchells going all in with the newly formed family affair.
Natalie’s daughters share a high ten, then together they head for the ring, not wasting any time.
Skye makes it a point to slap EVERY single hand offered her way-- especially the younger ones--as she lopes down the aisle. Behind her, Cyn is all business, ignoring either side as she marches behind baby sis.
Reaching the ring, the Mitchells take to opposite hard-cam side corners and hop to the apron simultaneously. They raise their arms high and wide to the assembled, celebrating with their supporters in eager anticipation, both women among the highest caliber tag grapplers, but never together before their win against Dawson and Soto to garner the Mayhem title gig.
Skye turns and grabs the top rope, leaping over. She moves to the middle as Cynthia slips between the ropes, the elder Mitchell conserving her energy.
The sisters go shoulder to shoulder, Cyn sweeping a protective side hug around America’s one and only remaining Sweetheart as the ring announcer provides their formal introduction.
“Tonight’s next match is scheduled for one fall with a 60-minute time limit. First, each hailing from the Queen City…Charlotte, North Carolina, at a combined weight of 235 pounds...the morning star of a wrestling dynasty, the lil’est but baddest…SKYLAR and the Hellion wind of a Carolina Hurricane…CYNTHIA! THE MITCHELLS!”
The challengers move to their corner after acknowledging the ovation and there, they fidget through the customary pat-down from Nick Castle. Once done, the sisters discuss their options and turn to the upper stage, awaiting the titleholders.
Their first defense of the tag titles delayed by Heather’s chance to add World Champion to her burgeoning resume, the Dream Team waits impatiently for their turn tonight, the crowd’s ovation for the challengers impressive.
Behind the curtain, the duo many still consider a peculiar pairing, readies for their next adventure, but this time with pounds of gold and leather around their waists.
The blonde ingenue from the heart of Texas and the reformed Lisa Legend from New York City bounce anxiously on the balls of their feet, confidence brimming despite Crofton coming up short of unseating the malicious Kat Braddock.
The Girl from Grapevine nods at her partner, no longer a young nervous Nelly. Lisa returns the acknowledgment.
“Don’t let their history or their family’s folklore intimidate you,” Dream insists. “They’re the challengers for a reason. Because right now. We’re the best team in the world.”
“We are,” comes an entusiastic reply.
As the buzzing in the crowd grows, the guileless youngster gives her illustrious partner an embrace and, when her partner’s infamous accompaniment fills the darkened arena, the Lone Star Girl and the Personification of Perfection push through the curtains and set themselves center stage.
O Fortuna (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EJC-_j3SnXk )
A single spot breaks the gloom and the FAWNatics’ volume rises in a crescendo, joining the stirring music as the industry icon is illuminated. The noise grows to ear-splitting levels when the adorable and adored Heather joins Lisa at her side.
Sins washed away, the crowd welcomes Dream and her darling cohort with a resounding ovation, Heather bouncing with energy she cannot contain and Lisa echoing the excitement of the Texan, pumping her fist, drawing the Dreamophiles into a further frenzy.
The Dream is a reborn vision in white. A diaphanous pale miniskirt makes her appear an angel that escaped the demons imprisoning her to find salvation in the mortal realm. And for the Dreamers in the audience, everyone from the massive reaction, Lisa’s ivory legs are finally in view, perfection covered only to mid-thigh by the delicate skirt. Ankle boots and pads are in white as well.
Next to her, the flaxen-haired Lone Star Girl pleads with The Dream to take the lead, but Lisa directs the youngster on her way, motioning for the surging superstar to take point.
Crofton heads for battle in her familiar battle gear, a yellow two-piece consisting of spandex boy-cut trunks and a cross-shoulder top, the side of the shorts includes a window of crisscrossed strips along with white pads and boots.
( i.imgur.com/4SRiQzy.jpg ) (without the snorkel gear and in yellow)
LISA DREAM
HEATHER CROFTON
The Dream walks down the ramp and aisle at her teammate’s six, sending chills down the spine of every long-time FAWNatic who can hardly believe they’re screaming their lungs out for the formerly vindictive vixen and, perhaps more amazingly, a tag team titleholder.
Each champion offers their palms to the masses on the way, Heather looking more comfortable with the love showered upon them, but The Dream growing more relaxed with every passing month of adulation.
Reaching the ring, Lisa allows Heather to be her ambassador, Crofton taking a lap around the squared circle, her hand connecting with every offered her.
Meanwhile, the reincarnated legend ascends the ring steps, halts for a long look at her adversaries, then slips through the ropes. She waits in the middle until the tough, little Texan joins her. Together, they applaud the exalting audience.
Without her previously omnipresent microphone, Dream and her protege move to their home corner where they’re checked by Nick. As Lisa’s music fades, the announcer takes on her duties.
“And their opponents. At a combined weight of 245 pounds…hailing from New York, New York and Grapevine, Texas respectively, the Ultimate Image of Human Perfection…the Yellow Rose. Lisa Dream. Heather Crofton. The Dream Team!”
The eclectic duo shares a high five, hand over their hardware, then huddle to discuss who will take the lead leg in their initial defense. It’s hardly a surprise when Lisa steps away from the summit, Crofton slipping through the ropes.
Opposite them, the challengers respond with a similarly veteran presence, Cynthia ushering Skye to her position on the outside, the two future Hall of Famers ready to step forward with gold on the line.
The bell brings the match to order and the tram leaders waste no time in striding to each other. They thrust forward as they close, locking in a collar-and-elbow tie-up. The brunettes struggle for an advantage in a tense tango center stage.
“You may have them fooled,” Cyn grunts in Dream’s ear, “but I know better.”
“Think what you want,” Lisa responds. “You were lucky enough to get cheered for your offenses.”
Spurred by Mitchell’s words or not, the Ultimate Image marches Cynthia to the Dream Team’s corner, stuffing her foe’s spine into the buckles and lifting Cyn’s head with a forearm beneath her chin.
Crofton gives Lisa a look as if asking if she should grab the challenger and hold her, but Dream offers a scant shake of her head and the Lone Star Girl remains glued in place.
Castle calls for the break and it’s given, Lisa breaking her grip, raising her hands, and stepping back several yards. Mitchell smirks, shaking her head. She steps forward with arms extended.
“It’ll take more than that to make me a believUHHH.”
Dream drives a toe kick into Cynthia’s alabaster abdomen, doubling over the Mitchell clan’s most accomplished legacy. The fabled, multi-fed icon snatches the Carolina Hurricane in a side headlock and wrenches on the braincase of her foe.
“As Tom Petty said, you believe what you wanna believe.”
Racing forward with the Hellion in tow, Lisa launches with legs extended and drops to her perfect ass cheeks, PLANTING Cynthia’s forehead into the deck with an immaculate bulldog. Mitchell flops absently to her back from the collision, but The Dream doesn’t bother with a pin attempt, knowing full well it’s too early to expect a three-count.
Instead, Lisa shoves Cyn to her chest and knee-walks to her adversary’s feet. Dream plucks Cynthia’s lower legs off the deck and crosses them at the ankles then slides forward to a straddle of the Cynful One’s waistline.
With half of her Dreamy Stretch secured, Lisa lifts and slips under Mitchell’s right side, then applies a nasty crossface grip, capturing her challenger in an early vulnerable position.
Dreamy Stretch ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=GwQQod_g_7A )
Lisa works her fellow veteran like a part-time job, tormenting the Hellion’s legs, back, arm, neck, and head, nearly every piece of Mitchell’s body put to the test in a perfect display of an excruciating submission.
Nick drops to all fours to get in the face of the grimacing Mitchell.
“Whaddya say, Cynthia.”
The response is a muffled “F you” and Castle waves off any ideas Cyn’s given in, rewarding the “PLEASE…DON’T…TAP” chants offered by many but not all in the audience.
After surviving for a dozen long seconds, Mitchell sighs as her top half flops to the canvas upon its release. Lisa slides off the crossed legs, letting them unfold as she pushes to her feet.
With the challenger in a bad way, Lisa latches onto a wrist and shoulder, drags the Carolina Hurricane to her boot soles, and heaves Cynthia back to the Dream Team corner. It’s a short trip and Mitchell doesn’t have time to turn, SLAMMING into the buckles chest first. The Dream’s quick to follow, lowering a shoulder and plowing it into the base of Cynthia’s spine.
As the Hellion arches in agony, Lisa disengages and hands the keys over to Heather, reaching over Cyn’s right shoulder and tapping the left of the Yellow Rose.
“Be careful, she’ll do anything to win,” The Dream advises as she follows the legal boundaries of the match and exits as Crofton enters.
“Got it,” the blonde answers, turning the wincing Cynthia to face her, then scooping under the thighs of the FAWN original and placing a seated Mitchell on the top cushion. Quickly rising with her foe, Heather moves to a stance on the middle ropes and pulls Mitchell there as well.
But the Hellion isn’t ready for flight without a fight and a barroom brawl breaks out on the elevated position, the Carolina Hurricane and the Lone Star Girl alternately landing clenched right hands until Cyn’s arms drop to her side from the barrage. The Texan pounds the dazed Mitchell until the brunette plops to her previous seat.
Popping off her penthouse perch, the beloved babyface wraps her sinewy thighs around the noggin of the former tag champ and RIPS her rival off the top buckle with a hurricarana, Cynthia sent forward flipping through the Orlando airspace, landing hard on her backbone and sliding within a few feet of her clearly concerned sibling.
Momentum places Mitchell in another seat, Cyn reaching for her aching lower vertebrae. But understanding her position, she ignores the pain to scramble and dive to Skylar’s outstretched hand before Heather can arrive and keep the abuse accumulating.
Reflexively, the Girl From Grapevine backpedals a few steps as the younger Mitchell enters, her caution creating a space of which Skye takes advantage. The American Sweetheart leaps into a startled Heather with a meteora, riding her fellow blonde to the canvas, shins on shoulders. Skylar lets loose on the Yellow Rose with a Thesz Press series of left-right combinations that transfers control to the acclaimed challengers, Mitchell only relenting when Heather is a glassy-eyed mess.
Dismounting Heather, Mitchell tugs the champ to her feet via a wrist and shoulder and spins her foe into an Irish Whip. As Crofton sprints, then crunches against the corner with enough force for the Texan to rebound toward center stage, Skylar hits the ropes to Miss Mustang’s left. The Carolina Cutie snatches Heather’s head on the race by and PLOWS the face of the Yellow Rose into the deck with her favorite variation of the bulldog Lisa used earlier on Big Sis.
Corner Bulldog ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hc2GYTV9ZpM )
The shellshocked Lone Star Girl remains face down from the attack and when Skye scampers to the levelled Crofton, she pushes Heather’s motionless carcass to its back. The younger Mitchell sibling dives across the chest of the splayed Yellow Rose, making the Dream Team’s time at the top as short as any in the division’s history, with the…
ONE…
TWO…
Miss Mustang resuscitates enough to push a shoulder off the canvas and flop to her side, keeping the Dreamers in the those assembled hopeful if not happy.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Skylar says while pulling Crofton up with her, “but why the hell do you get a World Title shot before me? This place.”
Mitchell bullies the wobbly Lone Star Girl to a couple feet within the wriggling fingers of The Dream, then pivots and sends Lisa’s partner hurtling toward enemy territory. Heather turns, races, then literally flies into the buckles, THWUMPING into the light padding. The potency turns her stems to jelly and the Texan plops to her per posterior, limp legs stretched in front of her, chin drooping to her chest.
America’s Sweetheart is on her horse after seeing Crofton’s vulnerable position. The dirty blonde locks are flying as she hustles across the canvas and spins 90 degrees into a heavy hip check to Heather’s features, the Lone Star Gril rocked by another potential concussive collision.
With a dazed Heather sinking lower into a reclined position against the bottom buckle, a grin emerges on Mitchell’s mug.
Turning her cheeks to the glazed eyes of Miss Mustang, Skye STUFFS her ass into Heather’s face, scrubbing nose, mouth and chin with her spandex-sheathed backside, forcing Crofton to ‘Kiss My Grits’ with the signature stinkface from the Lil’est Mitchell.
A flailing Heather pushes against Skye’s thighs but only emerges from the hot box when the Carolina Cutie dismounts of her own accord, leaving a breathless, greasy-faced Yellow Rose to suck in deep pulls of oxygen, eyes blinking wide to try and return her bearings.
“I’m having fun,” Skye says to her nearby Big Sis, “but I feel like you could really teach her better than anyone.”
Skylar offers her palm and a greedy Cynthia taps for entry.
Unlike the Dream Teamers, both sisters remain on the inside after the tag and together they shuffle Heather halfway down the ropes before launching her across the canvas with a double Irish whip, ready to go family style on the young tag titlist.
Together, the Mitchells wait for the return of Miss Mustang mid-ring. The wide-eyed blonde shoots out of the ropes and the dipping duo launches Heather toward the rafters. Crofton flips only far enough to land with a ring-rattling THWUMP on her spine courtesy the back body drop.
The champ arches in pain from the impact, grasping at her lower spine. She rises to a seated position, face etched in pain.
The challengers continue to push legality to the limits, Skye racing to the ropes in front of Crofton, Cynthia to those behind. The sisters bounce of the strands and meet at their target, each landing dropkicks simultaneously, the younger sibling plowing her boot soles into the blonde’s chest, the elder into her foe’s shoulderblades. They sandwich the babyfaced blonde and the Girl From Grapevine is rocked by the double-teaming.
On the outside, Dream can take no more, slipping through the ropes and charging the rising Cyn. Seamlessly, the Carolina Hurricane scoops Lisa off her feet as she arrives, arms looping under the ivory thighs of the Ultimate Image. The Hellion lifts Lisa several feet into the air before bringing her down on bended knee, DRIVING the plank of her upper leg into the crotch of The Dream with an Inverted Atomic Drop.
Lisa’s face twists in agony as she hops off the limb, hands buried between her thighs, quickly frozen in place.
With Castle pleading for order to be restored, Skylar continues to press the envelope. Yanking the shellshocked Heather to her feet by her hair, Skye receives Dream from her sister. Right hand full of Lisa’s shoulder-length dark brown locks and left full of the longer flaxen follicles of her fellow Dream Teamer, Skye promotes a meeting of the minds, banging the heads of Lisa and Heather together.
The champs u-turn away from each other after impact, the FAWNatics groaning at the sight. However, a fair number remain supportive of the First Family’s efforts. The younger Mitchell grabs the back rim of Dream’s skirt and a shoulderstrap and runs Lisa Legend to the cables, tossing her through. The dirty blonde follows her adversary out in more controlled fashion, dropping to the floor next to a puddled Dream and heading back to her corner.
Inside, Cynthia corrals the wayward Yellow Rose, leaping toward her dazed adversary, wrapping her arms around Crofton’s noggin at her highest point and PLANTING Heather’s skull into the deck with her signature Carolina Blues.
Carolina Blues ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=4tXjmTPxmUo )
The Lone Star Girl absently flops to her back from the force of the collision and Cyn scrambles atop the splayed blonde, hooking the far leg and rolling to a back press for the…
ONE…
TWO…
The stubborn Texan kicks loose, rolling to her side, eyes vacant, but title reign still intact for the moment. Heather shakes her head, trying to rattle some senses back in place. She glances longingly at the Dream Team corner, unoccupied, Lisa on the floor crawling back toward her legal location.
On her own for the time being, Crofton pushes toward verticality and a risen Cynthia helps her there, then bullies the wobbly Heather to a neutral corner. Mitchell loads a European Uppercut and rocks the fan favorite under her chin, snapping back the head of Miss Mustang.
Cyn shuffles the champ by a few steps and climbs the corner, turning to face the wavering Crofton. Heather faces in Mitchell’s direction but is clueless to her whereabouts as she struggles to regain her bearings. Cynthia gathers and takes flight, RAMMING a pointed knee into the left temple of the blonde with her Cynsational Sledge.
Cynsational Sledge ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cx_uxPRKyTA ) :11
Heather pirouettes then plummets to a spreadeagle position next to a quickly rising Mitchell.
As a returned Dream implores her young protégé, starting a rhythmic clap with the help of the many Dreamers in the audience, Cyn strides confidently to the corner of the First Family and returns the keys to her younger sibling.
America’s remaining Sweetheart chooses not to slide between the cables, even as Cynthia follows Nick’s instruction to depart. Instead, she climbs the corner from the outside to a precarious perch atop the buckles. From there, Skye takes to her namesake, springing stratospherically high. The Carolina Cutie collapses into a tight tuck at her zenith then descends toward the splayed Heather and CRUSHES the pale abs of the Girl From Grapevine with a perfect frog splash. Skylar settles atop the gutted champion in a lateral press, ready to claim the belts for her and Big Sis with the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Lisa intercedes, scrambling through the ropes and diving into the pinning predicament, pushing the Lil’est Mitchell off her partner with a half-tick to spare.
Knowing Cyn isn’t one to allow interference, at least from others, Dream’s on her feet quickly and, with Cynthia halfway through the strands, one leg in, one leg out, the Ultimate Image falls back on her checkered past for payback. The icon grabs the middle rope and THRUSTS it upward into the elder Mitchell’s privates. Cynthia’s eyes roll back in her head from the wave of pain emanating from below, jaw dropping open.
“You bytch,” the challenger squeaks.
“You’re thinking of payback, not me,” Dream responds, and she shoves the weak-kneed Cyn out, Mitchell bouncing off the apron’s edge and puddling on the arena floor.
Lisa turns to find Skye on her feet and thrusting a toe kick toward her alabaster abdomen. But Dream catches the challenger’s leg at the ankle before she can bury the blow and has the younger sibling bouncing on her planted foot, a look of concern on Mitchell’s face.
Skye launches into an enziguri attempt but Lisa ducks under. The effort does free Skylar from the legend’s grasp and she clambers to a poised position, ready for the Dream’s attack.
However, with her focus on the Personification of Perfection, the Carolina Cutie doesn’t notice a risen Heather. Crofton dips her shoulders and skewers Skye’s midriff with a gutting spear. Instead of planting Mitchell to the deck, she lifts and carries a wriggling Skylar to the buckles behind her foe, THWAMMING America’s Sweetheart into the lightly padded junctures.
A large exhale bursts from between Mitchell’s lips as she’s sandwiched and air becomes more of a prized commodity when the Yellow Rose grabs the middle ropes on either side and pistons the shoulder into the tenderized tummy one, two and three times. Finally pulling out, a flushed, glistening Crofton lights up Skye’s cleavage with a double-barreled overhand slap the Lone Star Girl has perhaps misnamed the Love Tap.
An animated Crofton spins the wincing Skye to face the corner and SLAMS her foe’s forehead into the top buckle a half-dozen times, leaving the challenger glassy-eyed and rubber-legged.
The Lone Star Girl surrounds Mitchell’s noggin in a ¾ facelock and pulls the younger sibling out of the corner, but only to take Skylar on a short loop. Heather returns with her cargo, rushing toward the same corner with the Carolina Cutie in tow.
Crofton launches her boot soles to the buckles in front of her, climbing them while leaning into her adversary. Heather backflips over her foe and RAMS the back of Skye’s skull into the thinly-sheathed floorboards with her Texas Toast edition of Sliced Bread.
Texas Toast ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=uoyDE-F5lO4 ) :14
Miss Mustang mounts the rocked Skylar, planting her taut cheeks into Mitchell’s chest with a reverse straddling seat. Heather leans forward and collects both her foe’s legs behind the calves, then leans back to create the matchbook that would keep her and Lisa in possession of the tag belts with the…
ONE…
TWO…
The younger Mitchell shows her family’s fortitude, kicking loose and unfolding her frame with a second to spare. Skye rolls to her chest and slithers along the canvas toward an exit under the bottom rope.
A standing Heather grabs the retreating Mitchell’s right ankle and pulls her foe back to center stage. Crofton flips Skye to her back, but the challenger pulls in both stems, then thrusts them out, pushing the Yellow Rose off. Heather backpedals to her corner from the force where a ready Lisa taps her on the shoulder.
“Sorry kiddo. I want some of this,” Dream apologizes before slipping through the cables.
Crofton exits with a slightly disappointed nod and the Ultimate Image reaches the younger Mitchell just as Skylar reaches her feet. Cyn’s sister doesn’t wait for the legend to strike first, laying into Lisa’s jaw with a forearm shiver that twists the frame of the reformed icon.
Not known for being a brawler, The Dream nevertheless fires back with one of her own and the fight is on, blonde and brunette alternating with blasts until Lisa ducks one and corrals Mitchell in a waistlock after her foe’s spinning swing and miss. The brunette tries to lift Skye for a belly-to-back suplex, but the dirty blonde grapevines a leg around Lisa’s and keeps herself grounded.
The veteran tries again only to be blocked once more and Mitchell breaks Lisa’s linked fingers. She turns to face Dream with another forearm ready, but the Ultimate Image sends a toe kick deep into the Carolina Cutie’s tummy. Lisa claims the lowered head of the challenger in a front facelock, throwing a limp arm over her own shoulders, she then snags Skye’s left leg in a cradle.
Deciding this match requires skipping right to Verse 3 of her Ode to Perfection, Lisa vaults Skye into the air in front of her, then changes course from a suplex, going straight down the way Mitchell came, pounding the Skye back into the deck with Dream’s version of the Rydeen Bomb.
Ode to Perfection Verse 3 ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=VaLjZhQ8YYE )
Pin pre-made, Lisa leans forward with a half-matchbook for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Just recovering to her tag position, Cynthia’s tardy, but Skye forces a shoulder up on her own and keeps the First Family alive in their effort for a shared Mitchell household title.
Lisa shakes her head, a look of astonishment firmly planted. It’s wiped off when Mitchell folds her right leg then stiffly stuffs it into Dream’s chest, sending Lisa Legend back somersaulting clear of the blonde.
Wincing but using the momentum to roll to her feet, Lisa charges a rising Skye, who’s made it to one knee. She levels the feisty Sweetheart with a running knee strike, putting the challenger on Dream Street.
Nightmare on Dream Street ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=zjzNGcHzm2w )
The force sends Skylar flopping over to her chest, face down and unmoving.
On the sidelines, a sweat-soaked and flustered Cyn slaps the top buckle, hoping to inspire Little Sis back to clarity. The Hellion gets plenty of claps from the crowd, but it takes The Dream to tug the semiconscious Skye to her feet.
Cluelessly wobbling, looking like a stiff wind might blow her over, Mitchell is left to slump in place as Dream turns and races to the far ropes where she rebounds at full speed. With the unsteady Skylar bent at the waist, trying to recover, Lisa approaches from the side, circling a HUGE clubbing blow from overhead and POUNDING it in the back of Skye’s skull, the Dreamsicle sending Mitchell face first to the canvas, seemingly out cold.
Dreamisicle ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZlwDduTQL3c&t=52s )
Lisa shovels the drowsy Sweetheart to a spreadeagle and presses tight with a crossbody pin, hooking the far leg for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Salvation comes in the way of Skylar’s sister, Cynthia dropping an elbow into the base of Lisa’s spine to break the pinfall.
As Dream arches in anguish from the attack, the Hellion shoves Lisa Legend off her sister and grabs Skylar by her right wrist.
Sisterly affection be damned with title belts on the line, Cyn tugs her younger sibling cavewoman style to the Mitchells’ corner. She’s dropped when Cynthia slips halfway between the ropes; far enough for Castle to consider the tag on Skye’s limp left hand to be legal.
Mitchell unfolds from her ring entry. However, it’s only enough time to straighten and be served a savage spinning heel kick to the chin from the impeccable icon, Lisa twisting into the brutal connection, flooring Cynthia.
Spinning Heel Kick ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=ExCas-FgOEs ) :10
Passing on the attempt to pin the rocked Carolina Hurricane, the Ultimate Image skips over the sprawled Mitchell and leaps to the middle ropes to Cyn’s left side. Grabbing the top strand as she presses her boots down into the middle, The Dream floats like the perfect feather in a glorious back flip that could be done no better by women twenty years her junior.
Lisa’s midriff SLAPS across the open abdomen of the starfished Cynthia, the Dreamysault positioned perfectly for maximum effect. Cyn jackknifes under the plummeting brunette, eyes bulging, great exhale escaping her lips.
Dreamysault ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-rOycQdAPo ).
With Skye still in no shape to assist her sis, Lisa shoots her title shot, remaining tightly pressed to Mitchell in a crossbody pin, hooking Cynthia’s far leg for the reign extending…
ONE…
TWO…
The Hellion shows the stuff of future Hall of Famers, ignoring her roiling tummy and lack of breath to kick a shoulder off the campus and keep the First Family in the running for the tag gold when a tardy Skylar is late to make the save.
With both Mitchells back in the field of play, if in shabby shape, the Lone Star Girl isn’t about to let Lisa play handicapped. The blonde swiftly enters and pounces on Skye from the side, taking down the Sweetheart with a Texas-sized tackle.
Staggered from the earlier Dreamsicle and the added spear, a loopy Skye is easily tugged back to stooped feet by the fresh Yellow Rose, Heather stuffing the lowered head of the younger Mitchell between her thighs and clamping down in a standing head scissors.
The Dreamers in the crowd are instantly brought to attention by the possibility Lisa’s protégé is about to play a Bittersweet Symphony on the buns of the Carolina Cutie. However, Crofton keeps it brutally professional, lifting a dazed Skye off the deck with a tight embrace of Mitchell’s midriff, then dropping Skye on the crown of her cranium with a flawless rendition of Lisa’s Fallen Angel package piledriver, sending the challenger to Dreamland.
Fallen Angel ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=PdiJ_wAUO4g ) :22
Barely two steps away, Dream has a wobbly Cynthia on her feet. Shoulder to shoulder with the wavering Hellion, both women pointed in the same direction, Lisa curls an arm around the front of Mitchell’s neck. Dream kicks up her near leg for extra momentum, throwing it in reverse hard, and SPIKES Cynthia’s skull into the thinly-sheathed floorboards for one hell of a team daily double courtesy her Day Dreamer.
Day Dreamer ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=mLJ89fhy0gU ) (first one)
After a momentary headstand, Cynthia tumbles to her back, finishing in a spreadeagle next to her unconscious sibling, the elder Mitchell herself out cold.
As an excited Miss Mustang watches, Lisa climbs aboard her comatose challenger in a schoolgirl press pin for an anticlimactic count and an incredibly impressive first defense by the Dream Team, Castle slapping canvas for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREEE!
Nick hops to his feet, calling for the bell, then calling for Dream to dismount the vanquished Cynthia.
“Calm yourself, Castle,” Lisa snarls. “We’ve made our point.”
Indeed, the newly minted tag champions leave the First Family of FAWN lifeless at their feet without incident, the challengers blissfully unaware of the results blasting over the PA.
“Your winners and STILL FAWN Tag Team Champions…Heather Crofton…Lisa Dream…The Dream Team!”
As the victors embrace, Castle is comfortable enough to scurry to the ring’s edge and collect the belts, delivering them post-haste to their owners. He slides between when blonde and brunette finish their clinch, raising each inner wrist as Lisa and Heather push the belts skyward with their opposite hands.
“This is the best feeling in the world,” the Girl From Grapevine chirps to her partner.
“It is pretty damn perfect, isn’t it?” Lisa responds, a wink delivered to the beaming babyface.