Post by hawkeye on Jun 4, 2024 1:50:54 GMT
“Our next contest is for the FAWN Intercontinental Title!” the announcer booms over the intercom. “Coming to the ring first, the challenger! Hailing from Sevierville, Tennessee, and standing at five feet even and one hundred twenty-four pounds, she is the Baseball Valkyrie… DEANNE DARR DAVIS!”
DEANNE DARR DAVIS:
“CENTER FIELD” BY JOHN FOGERTY
The familiar opening claps of John Fogerty’s country classic fill the arena as the shapely form of Deanne Darr David graces the arena entrance ramp. A baseball cap on her head, her maple slugger over her shoulder, she bounces past the fans. The fans eagerly chant for Triple-D, who has aged like a fine wine.
She tosses her hat and bat to a ring attendant before rolling into the ring. Deanne parades around the ring, arms raised in early triumph, before returning to her corner.
“And her opponent… hailing from Flint, Michigan… standing at five feet, three inches and one hundred twenty-one pounds… she is your FAWN Intercontinental Champion… TRIXIE DECKER!”
TRIXIE DECKER:
“WOLF LIKE ME” BY LOCAL H:
Trixie wastes no time bursting into the arena, the belt over her shoulder, as she strides to the ring. She greets the fans, offering hand slaps along the way. It’s still unusual to her, being actually liked, but management fuckery of the past was still shining on her and making her more of the sympathetic actor.
Trixie hits the ring and goes dead center, raising the belt up. The fans explode and cheers and it’s obvious, from her facial expression, Trixie is still not used to the applause. But she smiles before handing the belt off to the ref, who walks it over to Triple-D. The older grappler inspects it, nodding, and hands it back. The referee hands the prize off to a ring attendant and signals for the bell.
Deanne leaves her corner, all smiles, and offers a hand to Trixie.
“It’s a pleasure, doll,” she says in her thick accent.
Trixie stares at the hand, then looks back into Deanne’s face. “I’m not used to being the taller person in the ring.”
“Guess yer gonna have to take it easy on li’l ol’ me, big champ,” Deanne cooed innocently.
“Yeah,” Trixie said, cocking an eyebrow. “Sure.”
She accepted Deanne’s hand, only for Triple-D to yank Trixie towards a clothesline. Decker manages to duck it, still clutching Davis’s hand. Trixie yank Davis around and raises a boot, stomping Deanne in the midsection.
Davis stumbles backwards, clutching the wound. “Can’t blame a gal fer tryin’,” she laughs.
“Kinda can,” Trixie replies.
The two women slam into each other, locking up at the shoulders. There is a lot of give and take, neither giving ground to the other. Finally, Davis slams her forehead into Trixie’s left eye. This forces Trixie to relent. DDD grabs onto her and throws the champ in a snapmare, sending a kick into her back as she lands. Deanne wraps an arm under Trixie’s jaw and yanks her to her feet before delivering a standing lung blower. Decker flies forwards, hitting the ropes. Deanne rushes at her, lariating Trixie in the back of the head and sending her over the top rope.
Trixie hits the outside of the ring, landing on the concrete. She slowly pushes up to her feet, only to have Deanne baseball slide out of the ring, under the bottom rope, and feet-first into Trixie’s back. The champion flies forward into the barricade, hitting it full force. Having the upper hand, the Baseball Valkyrie is obviously energized. She grabs Trixie by her hair and repeatedly slams her face into the top of the guardrail until she hears the ref reach a count of “eight.” Quickly, she rolls back into the ring just to grab the top rope. She pulls herself up onto it and leaps at Trixie…
… just to be greeted by a kick to the stomach.
DDD curls into a ball as hits the boot, dropping to the floor. Trixie begins sending a series of kicks into her midsection before ripping the older fighter to her feet but her thick blonde tresses. Yanking Deanne’s head down, Trixie greets her challenger with a series of knee lifts. She yanks Deanne up one more time and delivers a brutal punch across Davis’s tits, followed by an uppercut. Dazed, Deanne starts to stumble away before Trixie grabs her arm and slings her back into the ring. Following closely, Trixie hops in and goes for a pin, but Deanne bucks free before even a one count.
Trixie starts to rise but Deanne slides her foot between the goth’s legs and trips her, sending Trixie down on her face. Deanne immediately sets onto Trixie and latches on a spinning toe hold.
SPINNING TOE HOLD:
The referee checks for submission but Trixie vigorously refuses. She palms the mat and uses her free leg to start kicking and stamping at Deanne, going primarily for the older scrapper’s knee. Finally, Trixie brings her foot down hard enough to get a yelp from DDD, forcing her to release Trixie’s leg and back off.
Trixie pulls herself up to her feet but DDD rushes at her, raking her face and eyes as she slams into the champion. Trixie stumbles backwards blindly as the referee chides Deanne for cheating. His scolding is interrupted as Trixie rushes forward and grabs Davis’s generous chest, a boob in each hand, and rips her hands free. Long red claw marks and a scream punctuate the action. DDD covers her chest and looks accusingly at the referee.
“That’s actually completely legal,” he remarks.
“Good t’know,” Deanne shoots back.
Trixie and Deanne begin to circle each other, with the elder fighter struggling to hide her anger. This elicits a smirk from Trixie.
“I dunno why you’re upset about the scratches,” Trixie snarks. “Red is your color. It really brings out your cuntiness.”
Deanne stops and stares at Trixie, then breaks out laughing.
“Okay, I liked that,” Deanne admitted. “I might steal that one fer later, doll.”
“Go ahead,” Trixie said, winking. “It’s the only thing you’re leaving this match with.”
“We’ll see,” Deanne purred. “We’ll see.”
Deanne rushes Trixie, who aims a palm strike for her face. Deanne ducks it, racing past the champion, and bounding off the ropes. She leaps onto Trixie with a Lou Thesz press, slamming her to the mat and starts clobbering her with punches to the face.
LOU THESZ PRESS:
The punches knock the sense out of Trixie, who attempts and fails to block the barrages aimed at her face. Deanne grabs Trixie’s arm and yanks her up. She grabs the younger grappler around the waist and attempts to fling her backwards overhead in a release suplex but Decker must be part cat, landing on her feet. So Deanne spins around, planning a fastball punch into Trixie’s jaw.
FASTBALL PUNCH:
Trixie takes the hit and falls backwards, landing splayed out. Deanne wastes no time in covering her for a pin, grabbing Trixie’s bikini bottom for leverage.
One…
Two…
THR--
To everyone’s shock, there is not a new champ – not yet, anyway. Trixie arches her back and palm strikes Deanne across the face. Davis “accidentally” topples into the referee, knocking him to the mat and landing in a heap on top of him.
As Trixie gets up, Deanne scrambles to her feet. Reaching into her cleavage, she pulls out a handful of chalk dust. She turns towards Trixie and opens her hand, preparing to blow it in the woman’s face. Instead, Trixie super kicks Deanne’s hand back into her face. A cloud of white covers her face, sinking into Deanne’s eyes. The ring vet flails blindly, stumbling around the ring. Trixie takes advantage of this, jumping onto Deanne in a black widow hold.
BLACK WIDOW:
Deanne screams out in pain, still unable to see what’s going on, just as the official gets to his feet. He rushes over to check for a submission but, instead, Trixie manages to fling both of them backwards. Deanne’s head bangs against the mat as Trixie releases the hold, covering her in a clean pin.
One…
Two…
THREE!
“Your winner, by pinfall, TRIXIE DECKER!” the announcer booms as Trixie rises. The referee holds up her hand as a ring attendant hands off the belt. Trixie slings it over her shoulder but returns to Deanne. Trixie motions to the attendant and asks for a bottle of water. When handed the water, Trixie kneels next to Deanne and slowly washes the woman’s eyes out.
Deanne looks up at Trixie. “Well, shit, I did myself in,” Deanne admits, flustered.
“Kinda,” Trixie said. “You okay?”
“Biggest bruise I got is on my ego,” Deanne said, sighing. “Fine, it’s still yours. But next time.”
“Next time,” Trixie said, smiling. She gave Deanne two kisses, one on each chest claw mark.
“Damn, yer forward!” Deanne laughed.
“In FAWN?” Trixie asked. “That’s the equivalent of waiting ‘til marriage. C’mon.”
Trixie helps Deanne to her feet and presents her to the fans, who give an uproar of applause. Deanne thanks them and goes to present Trixie to them as the winner, but when she looks, Trixie is gone.
Her eyes trail up the aisle to the arena entrance, where Trixie is walking out almost unnoticed.
“That girl’s gotta learn to love the limelight,” Deanne says to herself, shaking her head.
DEANNE DARR DAVIS:
“CENTER FIELD” BY JOHN FOGERTY
The familiar opening claps of John Fogerty’s country classic fill the arena as the shapely form of Deanne Darr David graces the arena entrance ramp. A baseball cap on her head, her maple slugger over her shoulder, she bounces past the fans. The fans eagerly chant for Triple-D, who has aged like a fine wine.
She tosses her hat and bat to a ring attendant before rolling into the ring. Deanne parades around the ring, arms raised in early triumph, before returning to her corner.
“And her opponent… hailing from Flint, Michigan… standing at five feet, three inches and one hundred twenty-one pounds… she is your FAWN Intercontinental Champion… TRIXIE DECKER!”
TRIXIE DECKER:
“WOLF LIKE ME” BY LOCAL H:
Trixie wastes no time bursting into the arena, the belt over her shoulder, as she strides to the ring. She greets the fans, offering hand slaps along the way. It’s still unusual to her, being actually liked, but management fuckery of the past was still shining on her and making her more of the sympathetic actor.
Trixie hits the ring and goes dead center, raising the belt up. The fans explode and cheers and it’s obvious, from her facial expression, Trixie is still not used to the applause. But she smiles before handing the belt off to the ref, who walks it over to Triple-D. The older grappler inspects it, nodding, and hands it back. The referee hands the prize off to a ring attendant and signals for the bell.
Deanne leaves her corner, all smiles, and offers a hand to Trixie.
“It’s a pleasure, doll,” she says in her thick accent.
Trixie stares at the hand, then looks back into Deanne’s face. “I’m not used to being the taller person in the ring.”
“Guess yer gonna have to take it easy on li’l ol’ me, big champ,” Deanne cooed innocently.
“Yeah,” Trixie said, cocking an eyebrow. “Sure.”
She accepted Deanne’s hand, only for Triple-D to yank Trixie towards a clothesline. Decker manages to duck it, still clutching Davis’s hand. Trixie yank Davis around and raises a boot, stomping Deanne in the midsection.
Davis stumbles backwards, clutching the wound. “Can’t blame a gal fer tryin’,” she laughs.
“Kinda can,” Trixie replies.
The two women slam into each other, locking up at the shoulders. There is a lot of give and take, neither giving ground to the other. Finally, Davis slams her forehead into Trixie’s left eye. This forces Trixie to relent. DDD grabs onto her and throws the champ in a snapmare, sending a kick into her back as she lands. Deanne wraps an arm under Trixie’s jaw and yanks her to her feet before delivering a standing lung blower. Decker flies forwards, hitting the ropes. Deanne rushes at her, lariating Trixie in the back of the head and sending her over the top rope.
Trixie hits the outside of the ring, landing on the concrete. She slowly pushes up to her feet, only to have Deanne baseball slide out of the ring, under the bottom rope, and feet-first into Trixie’s back. The champion flies forward into the barricade, hitting it full force. Having the upper hand, the Baseball Valkyrie is obviously energized. She grabs Trixie by her hair and repeatedly slams her face into the top of the guardrail until she hears the ref reach a count of “eight.” Quickly, she rolls back into the ring just to grab the top rope. She pulls herself up onto it and leaps at Trixie…
… just to be greeted by a kick to the stomach.
DDD curls into a ball as hits the boot, dropping to the floor. Trixie begins sending a series of kicks into her midsection before ripping the older fighter to her feet but her thick blonde tresses. Yanking Deanne’s head down, Trixie greets her challenger with a series of knee lifts. She yanks Deanne up one more time and delivers a brutal punch across Davis’s tits, followed by an uppercut. Dazed, Deanne starts to stumble away before Trixie grabs her arm and slings her back into the ring. Following closely, Trixie hops in and goes for a pin, but Deanne bucks free before even a one count.
Trixie starts to rise but Deanne slides her foot between the goth’s legs and trips her, sending Trixie down on her face. Deanne immediately sets onto Trixie and latches on a spinning toe hold.
SPINNING TOE HOLD:
The referee checks for submission but Trixie vigorously refuses. She palms the mat and uses her free leg to start kicking and stamping at Deanne, going primarily for the older scrapper’s knee. Finally, Trixie brings her foot down hard enough to get a yelp from DDD, forcing her to release Trixie’s leg and back off.
Trixie pulls herself up to her feet but DDD rushes at her, raking her face and eyes as she slams into the champion. Trixie stumbles backwards blindly as the referee chides Deanne for cheating. His scolding is interrupted as Trixie rushes forward and grabs Davis’s generous chest, a boob in each hand, and rips her hands free. Long red claw marks and a scream punctuate the action. DDD covers her chest and looks accusingly at the referee.
“That’s actually completely legal,” he remarks.
“Good t’know,” Deanne shoots back.
Trixie and Deanne begin to circle each other, with the elder fighter struggling to hide her anger. This elicits a smirk from Trixie.
“I dunno why you’re upset about the scratches,” Trixie snarks. “Red is your color. It really brings out your cuntiness.”
Deanne stops and stares at Trixie, then breaks out laughing.
“Okay, I liked that,” Deanne admitted. “I might steal that one fer later, doll.”
“Go ahead,” Trixie said, winking. “It’s the only thing you’re leaving this match with.”
“We’ll see,” Deanne purred. “We’ll see.”
Deanne rushes Trixie, who aims a palm strike for her face. Deanne ducks it, racing past the champion, and bounding off the ropes. She leaps onto Trixie with a Lou Thesz press, slamming her to the mat and starts clobbering her with punches to the face.
LOU THESZ PRESS:
The punches knock the sense out of Trixie, who attempts and fails to block the barrages aimed at her face. Deanne grabs Trixie’s arm and yanks her up. She grabs the younger grappler around the waist and attempts to fling her backwards overhead in a release suplex but Decker must be part cat, landing on her feet. So Deanne spins around, planning a fastball punch into Trixie’s jaw.
FASTBALL PUNCH:
Trixie takes the hit and falls backwards, landing splayed out. Deanne wastes no time in covering her for a pin, grabbing Trixie’s bikini bottom for leverage.
One…
Two…
THR--
To everyone’s shock, there is not a new champ – not yet, anyway. Trixie arches her back and palm strikes Deanne across the face. Davis “accidentally” topples into the referee, knocking him to the mat and landing in a heap on top of him.
As Trixie gets up, Deanne scrambles to her feet. Reaching into her cleavage, she pulls out a handful of chalk dust. She turns towards Trixie and opens her hand, preparing to blow it in the woman’s face. Instead, Trixie super kicks Deanne’s hand back into her face. A cloud of white covers her face, sinking into Deanne’s eyes. The ring vet flails blindly, stumbling around the ring. Trixie takes advantage of this, jumping onto Deanne in a black widow hold.
BLACK WIDOW:
Deanne screams out in pain, still unable to see what’s going on, just as the official gets to his feet. He rushes over to check for a submission but, instead, Trixie manages to fling both of them backwards. Deanne’s head bangs against the mat as Trixie releases the hold, covering her in a clean pin.
One…
Two…
THREE!
“Your winner, by pinfall, TRIXIE DECKER!” the announcer booms as Trixie rises. The referee holds up her hand as a ring attendant hands off the belt. Trixie slings it over her shoulder but returns to Deanne. Trixie motions to the attendant and asks for a bottle of water. When handed the water, Trixie kneels next to Deanne and slowly washes the woman’s eyes out.
Deanne looks up at Trixie. “Well, shit, I did myself in,” Deanne admits, flustered.
“Kinda,” Trixie said. “You okay?”
“Biggest bruise I got is on my ego,” Deanne said, sighing. “Fine, it’s still yours. But next time.”
“Next time,” Trixie said, smiling. She gave Deanne two kisses, one on each chest claw mark.
“Damn, yer forward!” Deanne laughed.
“In FAWN?” Trixie asked. “That’s the equivalent of waiting ‘til marriage. C’mon.”
Trixie helps Deanne to her feet and presents her to the fans, who give an uproar of applause. Deanne thanks them and goes to present Trixie to them as the winner, but when she looks, Trixie is gone.
Her eyes trail up the aisle to the arena entrance, where Trixie is walking out almost unnoticed.
“That girl’s gotta learn to love the limelight,” Deanne says to herself, shaking her head.