Post by SammieSinclair on Dec 20, 2014 18:49:12 GMT
Kylie Sanders
Though Kylie had lost plenty of matches over her lengthy FAWN career NEVER had she lost one in the fashion of her lightweight title bout at All Hallow’s Eve.
Having nearly ended the champ Nyssa Bloodwind for good, Sanders threw away her chance at gold by using every weapon at her disposal to break the Nubile Navajo. The fact it had been that cow of a tag team partner, Krystal Erway, who’d disqualified her, preventing from gathering the title made the elfin blonde steam all the more.
“60 seconds…Kylie,” a man shouts.
Sanders responds a stern “I’m ready!”
Tonight she was facing another champion and already Bethany Christian had worked her magic to make sure she wouldn’t get the Intercontinental title from Mama Bloodwind, otherwise known as Juliet. The Boss apparently didn’t mind screwing her under any conditions and so she’d made the match non-title, giving the Tempe Temptress a chance at revenge without the concern of dropping her belt.
Kylie had threatened to walk, but a quick e-mail reminder of how much breach of contract would cost her, put her a step away from the curtain, waiting for her cue.
Sanders fluffs her flaxen locks, the strands growing longer than they’d been in a long while.
“Let’s go, damn it.”
The sound of The Clash starts to fill the arena, namely a song from a certain album by the name of ‘London Calling’, and with it an absolute torrent of jeers that now rivalled Lisa Dream or even Portia VanBuren.
The Hawkeye pushes through and takes a spot centre stage. She hops in place, ruby lips twisted in a smirk, rolling her shoulders and throwing a few shadow punches.
The colours of her gear having turned from gold to black, with her heart, the trademark Tigerhawk emblem remains. It goes gold, her former hues reversed, pads and boots getting the gilded treatment as well.
Kylie starts her trip down the ramp as The Clash continues…
“So alone I keep the wolves at bay…
And there’s only one thing I can say..ayy…ayy…
You didn’t stand by me…
No not at all…
You didn’t stand by me…
No way”
“TRAIN IN VAIN”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=NYkQK8QsQ2w&index=3&list=LLU6MWpP-rt2kWv-tOm824HA
Energized by the hate, Ky ignores the reaching hands and pathetic pleas for her to come back to her senses. Reaching the ring and rising up the steps, Kylie turns and takes a view of the packed bowl, seemingly every seat occupied by the vapid fans that had jumped off the bandwagon. Kylie walks down the length of the apron and accepts a microphone from a flunky. While she does, the PA officially announces her arrival as The Clash fades.
“Tonight’s next match is a non-title affair and has been signed as a LAST WOMAN STANDING MATCH." The crowd suddenly turns cheerful, revelling in those words. "Standing five feet four inches tall and weighing in at 115 pounds, from Pleasant Valley, Iowa…KYYYLLLIIIEEE SAAANNNDDDEEERRRSSS!!!!!”
The crowd only doubles its enmity and volume. Sanders slips through the ropes and claims the centre of the ring.
“Did I show you something last month,” Kylie shouts into the stick. “Nearly ended that Injun’s career.”
A beaming Sanders strolls until the sound of the assembled falls to a dull roar.
“And guess what? I WILL end the other Bloodwind tonight. THAT is a guarantee from me to you.”
Of course, under Last Woman Standing conditions, that might very well prove to be anything but an idle threat. As the crowd continues to express its extreme displeasure, the announcer returns to the middle of the ring.
“And her opponent," he resumes, “the Intercontinental champion... Hailing from Tempe, AZ… she stands five feet six inches tall and weighs in this evening at one hundred and twenty-five pounds… She is the one and only Tempe Temptress… JUUULLLIIIEEETTT BLLLOOOOOODDDWWWIIINNNDDD!!!!!!”
Juliet Bloodwind
To the accompanying sonic assault of Rage Against the Machine's "Killing in the Name ", Juliet Bloodwind, emerges atop the ramp. The crowd erupts into a supportive roar, happy to see the Tempe Temptress back in action once more. And that roar grows only louder as Navajo Nation recognizes the change in Juliet’s garb:
Namely, that tonight, the Tempe Temptress actually sports the *Nubile Navajo’s* garb!
The elder Bloodwind stands clad in a faux deerskin halter, the shoulder straps eventually becoming two thin strings that crisscross her otherwise bare back. She also wears matching bikini bottoms, augmented by for lack of a better term a "half loin cloth" that descends to mid-thigh in the front, and that fails to obscure the view of her derriere in the back--Juliet’s rear view not particularly overshadowed by the woman who normally wore this gear. Ugg boots moulded to resemble moccasins adorn her feet, and the Intercontinental title replaces Nyssa’s Lightweight strap to complete the ensemble.
Normally, the Tempe Temptress exudes a flirtatious confidence as she struts down the steel toward the ring. The pigtailed Juliet would slaps hands with the fans sitting along the ramp... but not tonight. Tonight, Bloodwind pays little attention to the fans cheering for her. She doesn’t reach for any of the offered hands along the railing. She doesn’t pause for pics or to flirt with any of her smitten supporters--no, not even the one carrying his usual sign: "CONSIDER ME TEMPTED, TEMPE TEMPTRESS!"
No, tonight the Tempe Temptress SPRINTS down the aisle, her focus on one thing and one thing only: the woman who had done her best to maim her precious little sister. And as Juliet dives under the bottom rope, it’s patently obvious that the Native American warrior won’t be heading to her corner or playing to her fans. She’ll instead be making a beeline for the Pleasant Valley Two-Faced Bytch... whether the referee promptly calls for the bell or not.
Kylie starts to backpedal, a look of terror on her face as the Hawkeye's back hits the buckles behind her. She frantically screams at the official to stop Juliet and the man tries, but he quickly gets shoves aside. With the zebra on his ass, the elfin blonde decides it's time to evacuate the squared circle. She turns and sets a leg through the ropes, her head and half her torso behind. But the retreat is more than a little tardy and Juliet sinks her nails into Sanders' golden locks, Kylie howling as she's yanked back into the ring.
Juliet doesn't relinquish her hold on Kylie's mane after getting her back into the ring. Instead, she uses those dual grips to send Sanders FLYING across the ring--and it seems the FAWNatics aren't particularly bothered by these tactics. Of course, just about anything goes in a match such as this. Kylie hits the mat with a thud and a groan, the Tempe Temptress charging after her...
... but as Bloodwind starts to drop an elbow, Kylie KEEPS rolling, slipping under the bottom rope and dropping to the floor. The Hawkeye quickly picks herself up...
... but, equally quickly, back in the ring Juliet is able to call an audible. Aborting her elbow drop, the brunette takes the briefest of moments to right her balance... and then she races toward the ropes, sliding out to the floor behind Kylie. And Sanders quickly sets off to the races, forcing the Tempe Temptress to give chase around ringside.
Sanders shows off her long past college softball background, rounding the bases with Bloodwind feet from her backside, ready to tag her. Kylie hightails it through a full circuit of the ring before diving back in. Juliet follows, but by the time she does, the blonde is already on her feet and turning to Nyssa's sister. Sanders leaps in the air to nail the back of Juliet's noggin with an elbow drop. But as quickly as Bloodwind is sliding in, she's pushing out and Kylie's elbow SLAMS into the thinly covered plywood instead. Sanders yelps in pain, cursing, as she cradles her wounded wing.
The Tempe Temptress starts to slide back into the ring properly, now that her opponent has other things to worry about than eluding her--such as the ache in her elbow. But, perhaps surprisingly, Bloodwind shows some restraint, and instead settles for climbing onto the apron. Clutching the top rope with both hands, Juliet lies in wait, watching as the elfin blonde begins to pick herself up, Sanders' back presented to the Intercontinental champion. When Kylie starts to turn, Bloodwind begins to rock back, preparing to vault onto the top rope--and from there, launch her springboard clothesline.
SPRINGBOARD CLOTHESLINE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=gtDsx5m2WRo
Juliet leaps to her springboard cleanly in front a still distracted Sanders. And when she uses the ropes to bounce her way toward Kylie, the blonde's hazel eyes bulge in alarm. There's simply no time to duck and Juliet's right arm CRASHES across Kylie's throat, ripping the smaller blonde off her feet. The Hawkeye's back and back of her head SMACK against the deck. Ending on her back, Ky cradles her skull, boots pattering against the canvas.
Juliet's momentum initially sends the Native American warrior rolling away from her enemy... but not for long. Rising to her hands and knees, the Tempe Temptress turns and quickly scampers over to the fallen Sanders. Bloodwind mounts her nemesis, climbing into a straddle of Kylie's belly. Then, balling both her left and right hands into fists, the Intercontinental champion begins to reign punches toward the face of the reeling elfin blonde, Navajo Nation continuing to roar as Juliet looks ready to continue extracting her pound of flesh.
Sanders covers up as best she can, but a few of the swabbing fists find an opening. With no disqualifications, the official stands idly by, so there's no escape for the blonde but one she can make on her own. Instead Kylie bucks, trying to throw off her rider, or at least up so she can slide out the back door, free herself from the Navajo and scramble for the outside again.
It takes some frantic flailing and thrashing, but eventually Kylie manages to send Juliet tumbling off of her. Alas, the Tempe Temptress doesn't go falling nearly far enough. Sanders starts to roll toward the ropes, but before she can, Bloodwind grabs hold of her ankles. Rising to her feet, the Native American beauty starts to drag a squirming Hawkeye toward the near corner. "One of us might be getting ended tonight, bytch," the Tempe Temptress snarls, "but it's not gonna be me..." Juliet then starts to rock back, looking to launch the Pleasant Valley princess into the corner with a catapult.
For each action there is an equal and opposite reaction and no amount of Kylie's pleading, her hands waving high, palms extended, stops Bloodwind from dropping to her back and simultaneously LAUNCHING the Iowan HIGH into the air above her. With one law proven, gravity comes next and Ky's forehead SMASHES into the top buckle. Sanders is sent reeling from the impact, her head whiplashing away from the corner. Her rubbery legs manage to keep Sanders upright as she trails off in a wide arc that slowly directs her back, almost blindly, to her starting point.
Juliet proves surprising adept at not only getting back to her feet quickly, but leaving them QUICKER, and the result for Kylie is a faceful of Uggs in the form of an impressive dropkick. Sanders is immediately knocked into a backpedal, which FINALLY puts the treacherous Hawkeye in the corner, Sanders' arms spilling over the top rope. Again, the Tempe Temptress scrambles to her feet--and this time, she surges into the corner after her opponent. Stepping to the side, Bloodwind draws back her choppin' hand, ready to unleash a very early--but likely no less effective--Knife Edge Massacre.
KNIFE EDGE MASSACRE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=8doUJsDnGL8
Kylie barely gets out a squeaky "pleeease...don't" before Juliet unleashes her rightful wrath upon Kylie. The Native American grappler sends stinging chop after chop into the chest of FAWN's former favorite. Each CRAAACKS louder than the last, Kylie spasming in pain, her legs pumping up and down, her body reacting in a way that doesn't help the hellacious firestorm that stops for a moment but only for Bloodwind to reload and begin again. Finally, Juliet gives her hand a big lollypop lick and lays one last echoing chop into the rosy chest of the Hawkeye that sends Kylie dropping to her knees. Sanders only remains upright to that degree from her arms loosely surrounding Juliet's hips, Ky's bobbling head resting against Jules' lower abdomen.
Bloodwind takes a small step back... only to DRILL a kneelift right between the Hawkeye's eyes. With a groan, Sanders sags backward, dropping to her backside and reclining back against the buckles. The former sweetheart of the FAWNatics' legs spill into a wide 'V' before her, Kylie's arms hanging limp at her sides. The Tempe Temptress turns to fix the official with a warning glare. "Don't you even THINK about counting yet." Bloodwind then retreats to the far corner, turning on a dime and then sprinting back at the reeling Hawkeye. As she zooms in, the Tempe Temptress readies one more knee smash for Kylie's mug, this time with a Panic Attack.
PANIC ATTACK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=71snnULKf4g
Juliet sprints in for what might just be the finishing touch. She leaps, knee leading the way. But as she launches, Ky is able to drag her flagging frame to the side and Bloodwind RAMS her joint between the buckles with enough momentum it reaches the steel ringpost behind. As Nyssa's sister mewls in pain, limping around the ring from the fateful miss, Kylie pulls herself up with the help of the ropes, leaning drunkenly against them. She shakes some senses back into place and staggers after the hobbling Bloodwind, trying to time a shoulderblock into the back of the knee of the wounded limb.
It might not be as honourable a strategy as formerly associated with Kylie Sanders, but for a Last Woman Standing match, ensuring that your opponent CAN'T stand is a pretty smart one. It doesn't take much effort for the Hawkeye to dive toward Juliet--honestly, at the moment, remaining ON her feet would probably be a more arduous task. And Sanders' shoulder SLAMS into the pit of the Tempe Temptress' right knee. The effect is instantaneous, Juliet crumpling the mat, curling into a ball a clutching at her hampered knee while Kylie rolls to her back just a couple of feet away, breathing heavily, but the tide stemmed.
Sanders rises and gets several good stomps in to the side of the injured joint before heading to the outside, a detour the FAWNatics recognize. Ky slips her head under the apron and finds what she's looking for in the form of a folding chair. The Hawkeye slides back in with it and wields it proudly. "Recognize this," she shouts at Juliet, still writhing on the canvas. "OK. So it's not the same one, but let's make it useful too." Kylie grabs the legs so she can direct the top rim of the chairback properly, brandishing it toward Juliet's right knee. "So you think a tournament?" Kylie asks. "One can only leave a title undefended for so long." With that said, she sends the chair toward the connection point of bone ligaments and tendons.
Fortunately for the Tempe Temptress and Navajo Nation, Juliet manages to roll clear before the rim of the chair can make contact with her. Instead, the steel hits harsh canvas, the jolt of the misfire straightening Kylie Sanders with a shudder. But the Hawkeye quickly works her way through the shockwaves, and reloads as Bloodwind rolls up to her knees. Deprived her previous target, the elfin blonde chooses another--and this one she connects with, the backrest of the folded chair SLAMMING into the crown of Bloodwind's skull. Juliet groans as she slumps back, remaining on her knees as she settles onto her haunches, swaying in a most unsteady fashion.
Tossing the weapon aside, Kylie steps up to the wobbling Bloodwind and inserts the head of the Intercontinental Champion between her thighs, locking her ankles as she squeeezes Juliet's noggin in a standing head scissors. "Yeah. She's REALLY making me pay," Kylie shouts gleefully to the crowd. "Making her sister proud, I'm sure." Ky does a tomahawk chop top at the FAWNatics, humming the familiar Atlanta Brave chant as she prepares to sit out and THUMP Juliet's face into the canvas in humiliating fashion.
Kylie might never be mistaken for Ivy Armstrong in the scissor department, but her thighs still have enough power to quickly render the Tempe Temptress... errrrr... red-faced. Bloodwind's arm rise, her hands moving to the elfin blonde's thighs. Had she been on her feet, Juliet might have been able to straighten up and launch Sanders with a backdrop. But, from her knees, there's no dislodging her opponent. Kylie instead falls backward, of her own volition, and DRIVES the face of the Intercontinental champion viciously into the mat. From her tush, Kylie pushes her legs further apart, providing the face down Bloodwind plenty of space in which to spasm between them.
Kylie climbs out from the tangle with Bloodwind and strolls around the face down Juliet. She turns to the ref. "And what are you waiting for?" The man realizes his mistake and begins to count...
ONE...
TWO...
THREE...
He makes it to SIX before Juliet struggles to her feet. Kylie steps to the limping Navajo. She folds up the leg containing Bloodwind's bad right knee with one hand and sends the opposite arm circling around the back of her foe, hoping to launch Juliet off the canvas and send her knee crashing down across her own bended stem when she genuflects, continuing to tear apart the joint piece by piece until there's nothing left but shreds.
The anguished Tempe Temptress goes wide-eyed as she's hoisted into the air--and her right hand swiftly balls into a fist. Unfortunately, before she can fire her first punch toward Kylie's face, the Pleasant Valley princess drops to one knee--and drops Juliet's shin down across her posted thigh. Navajo Nation groans, while their champion herself HOWLS in agony, propelled off her feet by the force of the maneuver. Bloodwind flies into the ropes--and she promptly makes use of them, wrapping her arms around the top cable to give her one good leg some much needed support in supporting her.
Kylie straightens back to vertical, lifting her arms high in a wide 'V', drawing the considerable ire of the assembled. She walks to the aching Juliet and bullies her down the length of the ropes to a corner where the elfin blonde spins Bloodwind to face her. "How about a few knife-edges, ladies and gents? Show this reject how it's done!" Kylie pivots and flattens her right palm, ready to backhand the chest of the wincing Jules until the Navajo has a severe case of chop rash to go with her soon to be dismantled right knee.
'THWAAACK!'
"Yaaaaaaaggghhhh..." the Tempe Temptress howls.
"OOOOOOOOOOHHHH!!!!!" Navajo Nation gasps, always a little taken aback when someone displays the audacity to try to out-chop Juliet.
Sanders lands a second open hand, but as she draws her hand back for a third, Bloodwind reaches out. Grabbing hold of Kylie's shoulders, the Native American warrior spins and shoves Sanders back against the buckles. Juliet returns fire, BLISTERING the Hawkeye's chest with a vicious chop...
... but it's not just Kylie who cries out. Bloodwind gives a yelp of her own as her weight shifts onto her right knee. The Tempe Temptress turns and takes an involuntary stagger away from the corner, but she soon rights herself and turns back toward her foe.
Alas, that hesitation proves all the time Sanders needs to return the favor, grabbing Juliet by the shoulders and trading places with the Intercontinental champion. The elfin blonde unloads with one more chop, but she soon shifts her approach, turning her attention back to Bloodwind's gam. Grabbing an ankle, Kylie threads Juliet's right leg over the middle rope. Then, returning her grasp to the Navajo's ankle, Sanders begins to cranks upward, forcing the rubber coated steel deep into the pit of Juliet's knee--and the ligaments and tendons therein!
Kylie works at the joint religiously. After an agonizing workout and a couple stomps for good measure, the blonde slides through the ropes and onto the apron, grabbing Bloodwind's right ankle with both hands. "I'm going to make Little Sis look like the lucky one by the time I'm done with you." Her piece said, Kylie prepares to hop off the deck and to the floor and hotshot Juliet's tenderized knee, bringing the attack to an all new high, or low.
When the Pleasant Valley Princess drops to the floor, Juliet's stem is savagely pulled along for the ride. And while there's some elasticity in the ropes, the cable doesn't yield nearly enough for Bloodwind's benefit. The Tempe Temptress lets out a piercing scream as her knee explodes in a fresh new wave of agony, one that overwhelms her plant leg and sends the Native American crashing to her backside Juliet tries to roll away, but there's one problem: her right leg remains tied up in the ropes, and any effort on her part to draw her gam loose results in another wave of torment that freezes Bloodwind in her tracks. Juliet can only content herself with curling up, reaching to massage her brutalized knee.
On the floor, Kylie moves to steel barrier, looking for a high five from some diehard member of the Corps. She finds only one hand raised. Sanders reaches for the slap, but the fan pulls his hand away and Kylie stumbles through a swing and miss. Enraged, Kylie dives at the fan, hands raised toward his throat. Luckily, he's able to fall back into the second row out of reach, the crowd cheering his psych job on Kylie and jeering at the aggravated blonde. Sanders turns back to the writhing Bloodwind on the canvas, not even having noticed she's fighting a count, Jules limping to her feet at 'SIX'.
"Time for the second shift," Kylie barks. She hops to the apron and slides through, collecting Juliet around the tummy in a front bearhug. Sanders pulls the Navajo to her, their chests and midriffs slapping together. Kylie cinches her grip tight, trying to get 'big girl' on the bigger Native American beauty and force every bit of breath from her foe.
Kylie doesn't get nearly enough credit for her strength--something Juliet can testify to the moment the blonde's arms begin to constrict around her waist While they might not be pythons of the 24 inch variety, they still do an effective job of SQUUUUUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZZZZZZZIIIIIINNNNGGGG the air right out of her. If there's a silver lining for the Tempe Temptress, it's that the hold almost forces Bloodwind to wrap her legs around Sanders' midriff, providing a bit of a temporary respite for her throbbing knee. But while she can cross her ankles, that very knee prevents Juliet from squeezing herself and trying to answer the Hawkeye's embrace with a body scissors. The proud Navajo soon raises trembling arms, her elbows cocked...
... but, instead of swinging those elbows toward Kylie's ear, she fashions her hands into knife edges, intending to swing them toward the base of the elfin blonde's neck, hoping to dislodge her bearhug with a Navajo chop.
NAVAJO CHOP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=G8ajD4qszaY
Juliet's edges SLAM into either nape. Kylie winces as her shoulders slump from the impacts, her embrace loosened considerably. Bloodwind repeats and Sanders' arms fall to her sides, letting the Tempe Temptress loose. And a third set THUMPS into either side of Ky's neck, the assault on the nerve bundles seeming to unhinge the Hawkeye's legs as Kylie falls to her knees, mewling. Dropping to her haunches to stabilize, Kylie tries to respond with a slug to Juliet's navel to end the rapid fire knife-edges.
Just as the FAWNatics were finally being given reason to cheer again, Kylie's fist deflates them almost as much as it does the Tempe Temptress herself. With a loud gasp, Bloodwind staggers backward, doubling over and pressing an arm to her tummy. This allows Sanders to shrug off the barrage of chops and rise, marching to her foe. Taking a wrist, the traitorous blonde starts to send Juliet on her way with an Irish whip, her lips curling into a smirk as she ponders whether Bloodwind's battered knee can carry her into the cables.
Instead, Juliet's knee holds firm as she REVERSES the whip! The Hawkeye races into the ropes, and Juliet takes a step to the side as Kylie rebounds toward her. Extending an arm, Bloodwind catches Kylie across the throat, spinning around to nuzzle against Sanders' back and cinch in a sleeper.
The warm satiny feel of Juliet's chest and abs tight against her back is lost in the panic of feeling Bloodwind's arms encircle her head and neck from behind. The limbs snake and clamp down around carotid and temple in an instant and send Sanders' arms flailing. The stricken blonde tries to reach over her shoulders to get a handhold on Juliet's raven locks, but she can't find the grip. For her part, Bloodwind presses down on the base of Kylie's neck with her mass, adding to Ky's troubles. The blonde's ivory legs give a shimmy as her blood flow continues to be slowed by the Intercontinental Champ. Kylie's hazel eyes show a hint of glassiness as her hands now reach out in desperation for the ropes in front of her. The crowd roaring at the thought of Sanders taking a humiliating nap in the middle of the ring.
As Kylie starts to lunge for the ropes, the Tempe Temptress takes a calculated gamble. With the Hawkeye's weight shifting forward, Bloodwind uses her left foot to propel herself airborne. Snaking her legs around Sanders' waist, Juliet cinches in a loose bodyscissors. Again, the Native American can't particularly add a second front to her assault--but, as it turns out, she doesn't need one. The increase in weight she has to support sends Kylie crashing to her knees. Juliet throws her weight to the right, trying to pull the elfin blonde down onto her side--and further away from the ropes.
With the crowd's roar growing by the second, Juliet leans into the smaller blonde, forcing Kylie to carry more of her weight. Sanders' arms grow leaden, barely reaching 45 degrees. Lids fluttering, the Hawkeye again tries to reach behind instead of in front. She gets a grip on her foe's raven locks. But the sleeper is starting to affect her coordination and the pull of Juliet's hair is more of a brush of the dark strands across Bloodwind's forehead. Kylie kneewalks one step and half of another toward the cables before she can hold Juliet's mass no longer. Ky falls to her right shoulder and hip, Juliet continuing to cinch her grip taut. Kylie's left arm waves like reeds in the wind, her legs shuddering as her body seems to be placed in shutdown mode by the Navajo much to the FAWNatics' delight.
"Don't think drifting off to sleep is going to save you," Juliet hisses into Kylie's ear, the Navajo's voice quiet yet menacing. "And don't think any bell is going to stop ME. After what you did to Nyssa... I hate to be cliche, but God might have mercy on your soul. Your ass is gonna belong to me!"
The Hawkeye's left arm straaaaaiiinnss toward the ropes, her fingernails digging into the canvas.... until her fingers themselves relax. The Tempe Temptress offers a weary smile as she can feel a trace of saliva reach her bicep. With increasingly few signs of consciousness, the referee drops to one knee and gently takes Sanders' left wrist. While a knockout wouldn't mean the end of the match, it would lead him to order Bloodwind to release the hold. He lifts Kylie's arm once...
...it falls flat to the canvas, the back of Kylie's palm making heavy contact. He lifts it again and another lifeless fall to the canvas, Sanders essentially making her own three-count.
Again, the zebra pulls the limp limb of the Hawkeye high and like lead it falls to the mat for THREE, Sanders knocked into a stupor, her eyes rolling half-white, tongue pushing between loose lips, Kylie forced to nap between the python-like tawny arms of the champ.
"Alright, Jules," the official barks. "She's out."
The Tempe Temptress gives Kylie's captive noggin a possessive tug.
"DAMMIT, BLOODWIND!" the ref snaps, far more forcefully. "If you don't let her go, you could seriously hurt her!"
"... and?" Juliet asks, her eyes full of vengeance.
"You REALLY wanna go down as THAT woman?" he pleads...
... and Juliet, grudgingly, releases the sleeper. She sends Kylie's body tumbling away with a shove, before rolling to her back herself, chest heaving.
The bytch was out... but Juliet Bloodwind WASN'T standing, either! Somewhat laboriously, the Navajo warrior pushes herself up to all fours and crawls toward the ropes. Reaching the cable, Bloodwind gingerly begins to pull herself up...
... and when her knee buckles, the Tempe Temptress sinks back to one knee. Gritting her teeth, Juliet struggles to rise again...
... and this time, while her knee falters, Bloodwind manages to remain vertical. Having one woman standing is all the official needs to begin counting...
While Juliet has her travails behind her, the time spent might have seen a ten-spot pass and the snoozing blonde is already stirring, if slightly, when the zebra begins his official count.
ONE...
TWO...
... and THREE passes without much incident or headway, Sanders lucky to do much more than blink her peepers and tuck her tongue back in, Ky blowing a spit bubble as she does.
FOUR...
FIVE...
... and SIX put some concern into the stands as the renowned ability to survive seems to kick in, Ky pushing to all fours, slowly but surely. And with Juliet watching on in amazement...
SEVEN...
EIGHT..
.and NINE...
... see the Hawkeye push her way up to a sagging, rubbery vertical, the ref waving off the count with a half-tick to go. Still looking plenty drowsy, Kylie motions Juliet forward with a softly muttered "Bring it bytch..."
And bring it the Tempe Temptress proceeds to do. Ignoring the stabbing jolts that run through her right knee, Juliet charges her swaying adversary, a drowsy Kylie's arms too sluggish to rise and block the forearm smashes that blast into her chest. Bloodwind's pummeling blows back the Hawkeye into the ropes, Juliet bodying in as she grabs Sanders wrist. Setting her feet, the Tempe Temptress starts to send Kylie off with an Irish whip, intending to meet her at center ring--and from there toss the blonde up and onto her shoulders for her pop-up Samoan drop.
POP-UP SAMOAN DROP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=OHt4woO9yig
Kylie is sent to the races and though it appears as though she may flop to the canvas at any second, the blonde's stubbornness holds her upright into the cables. Rebounding back to Juliet, the Arizona roadblock forces Kylie skyward, popping the Iowan into the air in front of her. A quick twist and Bloodwind is underneath when Sanders returns to earth, the elfin blonde landing across her foe's shoulders. And before Ky can counter, Juliet throws her body back, laying out and SPLASHING Kylie to the deck in violent fashion. Sanders spasms like a fish out of water from the impact, her vertebrae blasted.
Bloodwind quickly climbs to a seat on Kylie's chest, facing her feet. Leaning forward, the Tempe Temptress gathers up and hooks Sanders' legs. And while there's no count from the referee, of course, Navajo Nation is quick to shout out a...
"ONE!
TWO!
THREE!!!"
Tossing the Hawkeye's gams away, Juliet dismounts her foe, still favouring her right knee slightly as she stoops to haul the FAWN Original up with a handful of hair. Turning her back to Kylie's shoulder, Bloodwind slings an arm around her foe's neck, preparing to charge toward the near corner to deliver her Bloodhawk Plunge.
BLOODHAWK PLUNGE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=gMuGREYMsVs
Juliet draws the gobsmacked Kylie along with her toward the buckles and with the dexterity of a mountain sheep, Bloodwind scales the corner. Jules runs up the ropes on one side of the buckles and reaches the top. From there, the bronze-skinned warrior pushes off the uppermost buckle and turns both women in a u-turn. But while Juliet lands on her taut backside, Kylie's face is DRIVEN into the deck with brutal force. The FAWNatics explode with excitement, the ex-Corps delighting in Kylie's fate. The force of the impact sends Sanders flopping in a spasm to her back, the blonde in a starfish. Juliet rises and places a boot on Kylie's bosom and the crowd counts out the...
“ONE...
TWO...
THREE!!!!!”
... the lifeless blonde taking each without a twitch. Juliet raises her hands high, celebrating with the crowd, but knowing well that Kylie's demolition required more than that. She steps away to let the referee and the ever helpful crowd begin the TEN count.
"ONE...
TWO...
THREE...!!!"
... the referee AND the FAWNatics shout, in nearly perfect unison. The Tempe Temptress reclines against the ropes, raising her right Ugg off the canvas ever so slightly, to take her weight off her knee as she watches the snoozing Hawkeye.
"FOUR...
FIVE...!!!!!"
Again, the Pleasant Valley Princess shows some of that resiliency of hers--a quality which once endeared her to the masses, but now draws their ire. She rolls over to her stomach... but, instead of rising, Kylie starts to drag herself toward the ropes....
"SIX....!!!"
She starts to drag herself up, with the aide of the cables...
"SEVEN...!!!!"
The elfin blonde slumps back to her knees, Navajo Nation ROARING as Kylie drops back to square one.
"EIGHT... !!!!!"
Sanders resumes her efforts, her hands rising from the middle to the top cable as she hauls herself up....
"NINE...!!!!!!"
Back on her feet, Kylie pushes away from the cables... and her legs, though wobbly, hold, Sanders remaining on her feet.
The FAWNatics groan... but Juliet SURGES toward her prey, meeting the Hawkeye after a few faltering steps. Slipping her right arm underneath Kylie's left wing, the Tempe Temptress turns away from her foe, attempting to shrug Sanders up onto her back. If she could get her there, a Tempe Twister might ensure she stays down for ten minutes, let alone ten seconds.
TEMPE TWISTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=N5XIgEYg72U
Locking arms with blasted Sanders, the raging Bloodwind plucks her blonde off the deck. If it was beginning to look like the Tempe Temptress is enjoying picking up three-count after three-count just to toy with Kylie, with Sanders strapped across her back, this maneuver would prove differently. With Kylie squirming for an escape as best as she can, Juliet launches the Hawkeye off her back, Ky swinging around to Bloodwind's front where the Navajo sits out and SPIKES Kylie's face into the deck with the Twister. Sanders flops to her back from the impact and into an increasingly familiar motionless spreadeagle.
Bloodwind climbs back to her feet-a pre-requisite for winning a contest such as this. But even as the referee starts to count, Juliet doesn't appear ready to trust that the Twister has done enough. Approaching the splattered Hawkeye, the Tempe Temptress grabs a wrist and drags Kylie's carcass into alignment with the near corner. Satisfied with her framing of Sanders, the Intercontinental champion retreats a couple of feet from Kylie's prone form--and as she does, Navajo Nation launches to their feet, awaiting the Bloodhawk Dive with rapt anticipation.
Juliet takes just a moment to shift her weight onto her right leg. Satisfied she can endure the ache in her knee as long as necessary, the Tempe Temptress breaks into a sprint. Hopping over the Hawkeye, Bloodwind grimaces upon touching done--but she still launches herself toward the top turnbuckle, intending to vault back into the picture perfect moonsault that would undoubtedly end Kylie's evening.
And as the Native American beauty flies into the air above the waylaid Sanders, Kylie paying dearly for wronging Juliet's sister, the FAWNatics leap to their feet. Bloodwind backflips high then lets gravity and nature take its course, sending her golden midriff toward Kylie's ivory number for a fateful and final splashdown of the night. But as Juliet drops toward the target, Kylie manages to pull her legs in, moving out of the way well beyond her, the elfin blonde hoping to gut the champ and end her warpath.
With the Tempe Temptress already on final approach, there's precious little she can do as Sanders' knees rise upward. There's not nearly enough time for Bloodwind to try and shift, either so she can fly beyond her opponent or land on her feet. There's barely even time for the Native American beauty to suck in an alarmed gasp. But once her belly crashes to the rocky shore, there's PLENTY of time for Juliet to gasp as she bounces away. The Intercontinental champion lands on her back, a couple of feet away from Sanders, her eyes closed and both arms pressed tightly to her impaled abdomen.
As for Sanders, her legs straighten, but she's nowhere near rising. With the crowd silenced, there's movement from Juliet, but for long seconds neither is anywhere near reaching their feet. Bloodwind is on all fours, but with her head sunken near the canvas. A dazed Kylie is seated, but with no apparent idea what state she's in let alone that Jules has a jump on her. The Navajo makes it to one knee and then her feet with Ky having added no progress whatsoever. With Jules up, the official starts a count on Kylie. But Bloodwind's not waiting, as she sinks her nails into the Hawkeye's scalp and tugs the blonde from her backside to a wobbily kneel. Before the Navajo can make the apparent ragdoll
Brian: rise, Kylie's frame stiffens and she swings her right arm like a pendulum, hoping to THUMP a forearm home into Juliet's nether region.
Bloodwind's grasp on the elfin blonde's locks is broken the instant Kylie's blow lands downstairs. While it might be a heinous and deplorable attack, in a match like this, there was nothing illegal about it. Juliet turns away from her opponent, doubling over and staggering knock-kneed a couple of strides away. But the Tempe Temptress' wobbly gait doesn't last long before she sinks to her knees--and from there, she tumbles over onto her right hip. Choking back tears, the glistening Native American beauty curls into a ball, her thighs clenched tightly together--and both her hands wedged directly between them.
Still, the fight in Bloodwind remains and before Kylie can get to full vertical, Juliet's pushes to all fours, though her legs remain glued together from the pulsating pain from below. The blonde's drooping head rises and seeing Juliet on hands and knees seems to send fuel into the Hawkeye. Kylie struggles to her feet and staggers to the ropes at Juliet's side. The turncoat bytch rebounds toward the seemingly unaware Bloodwind and, as Ky approaches, she leaps into the air, her front boot raised high and poised to curbstomp Juliet's face into the thinly-covered plywood.
Alas, for Navajo Nation, there ends up being nothing just "seemingly" about Juliet's level of awareness. Kylie's foot plants against the back of Bloodwind's noggin, before a shift of Sanders' weight SLAMS the Tempe Temptress' face down into the canvas. As the Hawkeye lands, it's unclear whether she trips over her own feet or whether exhaustion sends Kylie to her knees. Which proves to be a good thing for Juliet and her fans, as the reigning Intercontinental champion is left a shuddering mass of glistening flesh and faux deerskin, Bloodwind moaning softly.
Not completely aware of what had happened when her foe was in control but vaguely aware of hearing at least a couple "THREES" from the crowd, Sanders spins to face the splattered Juliet and scoops the golden-brown grappler to her back. Kylie dives atop her foe's chest in a lateral press, still with not enough in her tank to hook a leg. "Slap it," Ky grunts to the ref, wanting to show the jackasses in the stands who was the better woman.
"Kylie," the referee begins to protest, "you know damned..."
"SLAP IT!!!" Sanders demands again.<
And, with a defeated shrug of his shoulders, the zebra drops to his knees beside them. The crowd unloads on both Kylie for her display and for the official for his spineless acquiescence. But a few of the blackhearts in the stands still call out along with his strikes...
"ONE...
TWO...
TH...."
The Tempe Temptress THROWS her right fist into the air, her arm falling across her sternum--and lifting her shoulder off the canvas. Bloodwind's gesture of defiance draws a mixture of thunderous cheers and laughter from Navajo Nation.
Kylie's hands fly to her own shoulder-length flaxen locks and pull at her follicles in disbelief. "DAMN IT!" she screams then slaps the mat in a childish tantrum before realizing she could be slapping Juliet's tummy instead, which she does a half dozen blistering times, drawing a red streak across Bloodwind's belly. "Shea's puppet still has some tension left in her strings?" Kylie growls. There's no verbal follow-up, but Sanders does yank the Temptress to her feet for a physical version. Dipping, she sends an arm between Juliet's legs, hoping to pop the bigger woman up and across her shoulders in a fireman's carry and end this farce with not any ordinary PVD but a running version.
RUNNING PLEASANT VALLEY DRIVER @ 00:56:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=fKw3UoKJcbI
Getting Juliet onto her shoulders proves to be the easiest part--but once she's there, the Tempe Temptress starts firing elbows into the side of Kylie's skull. The FAWNatics, buoyed by Bloodwind's resistance, urge her on, and when the second elbow strike buckles Sanders' gams, the audience is ready to celebrate. But that proves premature. While Juliet manages to land a third elbow, the Pleasant Valley princess' stems stiffen. And before Jules can launch a fourth, Sanders begins to charge across the ring, Kylie's sudden acceleration enough to stifle Bloodwind's barrage. After a few strides, Sanders abruptly lays out, slinging the Tempe Temptress off her shoulders and DRIVING her down on her head, shoulders and back. Again, the beautiful Navajo warrior is left a spasming mess--with the Pleasant Valley princess thankfully down on the mat with her, rather than standing.
Perhaps not wanting to test Bloodwind again and come up wanting, Kylie passes on another pin attempt and motions that the zebra can go ahead and start his ten-count now. While he gets to his job, Sanders noticeably evacuates the ring, sliding out under the bottom rope and setting out on a search under the apron. It takes a couple sides of the apron before she pulls out her booty and, by then, the count is up to...
SEVEN...
... the crowd pleading with Juliet to make it up from one knee. As she struggles to do so, Ky enters with a length of heavy rope and, at the end? Ky has a hankerin that can only be met with more cowbell. She rolls in with her discovery. Letting the rope trail behind her, Kylie grasps the bell tight with both hands, ready to ram it into the forehead of Bloodwind if/when she makes it up in time.
Honestly, Navajo Nation has hardly noticed Kylie's foraging--their attention had been solely focused on rallying their champion. 'TEM-PE TEMP-TRESS!" they chant, loud enough to rouse the dead--but only just loud enough to reach the battered Bloodwind. A cheer runs through the audience as Juliet makes it to rubbery legs at about Nine and Seven-Eighths...
... only to be greeted upon her return to verticality with Kylie's procured cowbell SMASHING into her mug. The Tempe Temptress is knocked into a backpedal, her eyes crossing as she stumbles, Juliet finally caught by the ropes. Her arms spill over the top cable, which is ALL that keeps her standing.
A beaming Kylie, perfect pearlies flashing, strides to the semiconscious Navajo, tossing the rope and bell to the side as she closes. Sanders draws one limp arm over the ropes and throws it over her shoulders, then removes Bloodwind's opposite number from the cable by leading her away from the corner. Ky "assists" a rubber-legged Jules to the middle where the blonde hiptosses the IC champion to the deck. Kylie drops to her knees next to the raven-haired grappler and spreads her rival out like butter on toast, dropping across Juliet in a lateral press. "Count it or I may take that cowbell to you," Kylie warns the ref.
This time, there's no protest from the referee. There comes PLENTY from the FAWNatics as he slides into position and checks Juliet's shoulders, but deprived the threat of a disqualification to discourage Kylie from making good on her vow, he isn't about to take any chances. And again, some of the more twisted in the stands shout out with his count...
"ONE...
TWO..."
No kickout this time.
"THREE!!!!!!!!!"
The Tempe Temptress barely even twitches underneath Kylie, instead only uttering a few soft mewls.
"Better," Kylie grunts, using Juliet's waylaid frame to push up. Sanders enjoys it so much she uses her foe's chest and tummy to do a set of five. Finally, the elfin blonde rises and backs a few steps away. "You may count, stooge."
The man hovers over the motionless heap of Bloodwind and begins counting...
ONE...
TWO...
THREE...
FOUR...
FIVE...
THEN, and ONLY then, does the Tempe Temptress show some semblance of life. But that merely consists of rolling over to her stomach. Casually reclining against the ropes, Kylie looks on, unperturbed.
SIX...
Juliet can't push her way up to her hands and knees, but she can start dragging herself, on her belly, toward the ropes--notably a DIFFERENT set of cables than the ones Sanders currently occupies.
SEVEN...
EIGHT...
Bloodwind grips at the cables, the Native American beauty groaning in determination as she attempts to draw herself up...
NINE...
Juliet steps away from the ropes... and remains upright! She STARTS to take a further step toward mid-ring but with a swoon, the Tempe Temptress sags backward, taking a seat on the middle rope.
Kylie takes a spot in the center and motions Juliet to come to her. Bloodwind seems unable and Sanders doesn't approve. "Did I tell you how much I loved hurting your sister?" Ky asks, drawing some fire back into Bloodwind's dark eyes. "I wouldn't give up the gold for just anyone. But I have to say nearly maiming her was an exhilarating moment." Kylie chuckles when Juliet tries to push off the cables and toward her. "C'mon lil Injun," Kylie baby-talks. "I hear you're the one that could."
Adrenaline can be a beautiful thing--at it can be triggered by the most disgusting of words. But Kylie's barbs serve to inject a little more strength back into Bloodwind's watery stems. As laborious as pushing away from the ropes had been, once she's away from them, the Tempe Temptress is able to charge toward the blonde Hawkeye with far more speed than she by any rights should be able to manage--even with the slight hitch remaining thanks to her right knee. Bloodwind balls her right first, and swings her arm in a looping shot at Kylie's temple. But adrenaline can only do so much. While her stride is purposeful, her swing is sloppy, though there's still probably power enough behind it to do some damage.
But the blonde spider is more than ready for her fly and Kylie ducks the right cross with room to spare. Snuggling in as she dips, Sanders wraps her arms tight around the golden-brown midriff of Bloodwind and cinches tight, drawing a throaty gasp from a Navajo running on fumes. Kylie lifts the champ off the canvas and drops to one knee, splitting Juliet's wickets in wicked fashion. The inverted atomic drop seems to nearly divider Juliet up the middle and when the elfin blonde removes her knee, Juliet is the consistency of gooey caramel, sinking to her knees with watery eyes and gaping jaw.
Ky moves from one to two knees in front of Bloodwind. Both women kneel, face to face. Kylie offering Juliet a body to lean on. But as Bloodwind inexorably lists toward Sanders, Kylie snakes her arms around the back and sides of Juliet's head and directs her face toward the Hawkeye's bosom. "Meet the new geysers," Kylie shouts for the crowd more than Bloodwind. "Much better than the old geysers." Kylie secures Juliet's lips and nose into her cleavage, hugging the back of her noggin so the seal is a tight one.
For the first time in a long time, Kylie Sanders actually earns herself some cheers from the FAWNatics, simply for her use of weaponry. But, while not inconsiderable, those cheers are nowhere near as loud as the ones she used to routinely get--and there are still a sizeable number of fans booing as the Tempe Temptress faces being snuffed out. Now BOTH her hands ball into fists, Bloodwind slugging away at the elfin blonde's flanks...
... but while the Hawkeye grunts through the fist couple of punches, the blows that follow are increasingly easy to endure. Kylie brings the pummeling to a brief halt when she shakes her upper body side-to-side, Bloodwind's noggin along for the ride. And by the time Juliet's hands move against Sanders again, they do so with mere slaps against Kylie's sides.
Kylie isn't taking soft, weak caresses as her signal. No. The smothering blonde keeps Juliet tight until the Navajo's arms are limp. With Bloodwind the consistency of overcooked noodles, Sanders finally lets Juliet's greasy face fall from her breasts, a line of spittle drawing away from Juliet's pouty lower lip to the cleft of Kylie's gurls. The Hawkeye lets Bloodwind down almost gently, not wanting to wake the KO’ed Jules from her slumber. Instead of leaning the gobsmacked Bloodwind on her back, thighs atop calves, Kylie drops her with a slight roll, placing Juliet down on her face, chest, and pelvis, a seemingly broken champion.
Clearly eschewing a pin this time from the way she's placed her foe, Kylie doesn't bark orders at the official. Instead, she moves to the discarded length of rope as the zebra begins his count and, while the FAWNatics look on in disbelief, Kylie begins to pluck limp limbs off the canvas. First, she captures right arm and right leg, slowly forcing them close until ankle and wrist can be bound. After the initial knot, the rest come easier. A dumbfounded official, having halted his count with contact between Sanders and Bloodwind, watches intently but knows he has no right to intervene. Working like she might have taken lessons from Beth Jenkins, Kylie finishes the job, corralling all four limbs and knotting them together, the gathering of limbs meeting over the base of Juliet's now curved spine.
A smirking Kylie rises and turns to the crowd revelling in the faces of amazement and anger then to the referee. "Go on," she says. "I believe you might just make it this time."
Even without her ropework, the official completing his count had seemed all but a certainty. But now, could it be anything but a foregone conclusion. With an impotent shake of the head, the ref begins to count.
“ONE...
TWO...
THREE...
FOUR..."
"...huuunnnnyyyuuuuunnnnhhhhhhhh..."
It's the softest of mumbles from the Tempe Temptress, but it's still a sign of consciousness returning to her.
"FIVE...
SIX... "
With another feeble moan, Juliet tries to bring her hands to the mat and push up to her knees...
"SEVEN..."
... but when she cannot, the still disoriented Native American warrior utters a soft, incoherent, plaintive moan.
"EIGHT..."
Still unsure of WHY her limbs weren't cooperating with her, Bloodwind tries again--and, predictably, fails, resulting in an even louder--if no more coherent--whimper of protest.
Sanders couldn't touch the hogtied Juliet if she didn't want the count to start over and, though she liked her knots, no reason to test them. After all, she was no longer a Girl Scout. But she could and does drop into a crouch, down in front of Juliet, nearly nose to nose, as the count grows. "What will dear Nyssa think of you?" Kylie asks with an unnerving smirk.
"NINE..."
"Such a worthless pair, aren't you?"
Juliet loads up a loogey and puts one dead center into Kylie's mug at...
"TEN!!!!!!"
The smile on the blonde disappears very quickly. Boiling, Kylie wipes off the mess as unobtrusively as possible, placing most of the juice back on its source. Kylie, her face turning red even as she maintains an air of calm, flips Juliet to her back as the PA makes things clear. "YOUR WINNER, AND THE LAST WOMAN STANDING... KYYYLLLIIIEEE SAAANNNDDDEEERRRSSS!!!!!"
The Hawkeye moves to a vertical forward straddle of Juliet's face. "Bye," she says, almost softly, and drops straight down, sitting out on Juliet's face. The thump draws an audible groan from the crowd and, though Kylie weighs in at a mere 115 pounds, dropping it from a stance on someone's features. Well, when Kylie gets up, Juliet is again in dreamland, this time with blood trickling from a nostril.
A sweat-soaked Sanders turns to the nearest lens, wiping sweat and spit from her brow. "That makes me uncrowned lightweight champ AND uncrowned Intercontinental champ. These beltless championships are all well and good. But this body..." Kylie stops to run her hands down her bruised but beautiful frame..."deserves some glitter. EMILY. The time has come to show you, this organization, and these fans that, in your terms, I've graduated. I am the next World Champion. Hell, I am the current World Champion and you just don't know it yet. So at Season's Beatings, I'm giving the world a gift and presenting them with the BEST WORLD CHAMPION EVER BORN...me."
Though Kylie had lost plenty of matches over her lengthy FAWN career NEVER had she lost one in the fashion of her lightweight title bout at All Hallow’s Eve.
Having nearly ended the champ Nyssa Bloodwind for good, Sanders threw away her chance at gold by using every weapon at her disposal to break the Nubile Navajo. The fact it had been that cow of a tag team partner, Krystal Erway, who’d disqualified her, preventing from gathering the title made the elfin blonde steam all the more.
“60 seconds…Kylie,” a man shouts.
Sanders responds a stern “I’m ready!”
Tonight she was facing another champion and already Bethany Christian had worked her magic to make sure she wouldn’t get the Intercontinental title from Mama Bloodwind, otherwise known as Juliet. The Boss apparently didn’t mind screwing her under any conditions and so she’d made the match non-title, giving the Tempe Temptress a chance at revenge without the concern of dropping her belt.
Kylie had threatened to walk, but a quick e-mail reminder of how much breach of contract would cost her, put her a step away from the curtain, waiting for her cue.
Sanders fluffs her flaxen locks, the strands growing longer than they’d been in a long while.
“Let’s go, damn it.”
The sound of The Clash starts to fill the arena, namely a song from a certain album by the name of ‘London Calling’, and with it an absolute torrent of jeers that now rivalled Lisa Dream or even Portia VanBuren.
The Hawkeye pushes through and takes a spot centre stage. She hops in place, ruby lips twisted in a smirk, rolling her shoulders and throwing a few shadow punches.
The colours of her gear having turned from gold to black, with her heart, the trademark Tigerhawk emblem remains. It goes gold, her former hues reversed, pads and boots getting the gilded treatment as well.
Kylie starts her trip down the ramp as The Clash continues…
“So alone I keep the wolves at bay…
And there’s only one thing I can say..ayy…ayy…
You didn’t stand by me…
No not at all…
You didn’t stand by me…
No way”
“TRAIN IN VAIN”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=NYkQK8QsQ2w&index=3&list=LLU6MWpP-rt2kWv-tOm824HA
Energized by the hate, Ky ignores the reaching hands and pathetic pleas for her to come back to her senses. Reaching the ring and rising up the steps, Kylie turns and takes a view of the packed bowl, seemingly every seat occupied by the vapid fans that had jumped off the bandwagon. Kylie walks down the length of the apron and accepts a microphone from a flunky. While she does, the PA officially announces her arrival as The Clash fades.
“Tonight’s next match is a non-title affair and has been signed as a LAST WOMAN STANDING MATCH." The crowd suddenly turns cheerful, revelling in those words. "Standing five feet four inches tall and weighing in at 115 pounds, from Pleasant Valley, Iowa…KYYYLLLIIIEEE SAAANNNDDDEEERRRSSS!!!!!”
The crowd only doubles its enmity and volume. Sanders slips through the ropes and claims the centre of the ring.
“Did I show you something last month,” Kylie shouts into the stick. “Nearly ended that Injun’s career.”
A beaming Sanders strolls until the sound of the assembled falls to a dull roar.
“And guess what? I WILL end the other Bloodwind tonight. THAT is a guarantee from me to you.”
Of course, under Last Woman Standing conditions, that might very well prove to be anything but an idle threat. As the crowd continues to express its extreme displeasure, the announcer returns to the middle of the ring.
“And her opponent," he resumes, “the Intercontinental champion... Hailing from Tempe, AZ… she stands five feet six inches tall and weighs in this evening at one hundred and twenty-five pounds… She is the one and only Tempe Temptress… JUUULLLIIIEEETTT BLLLOOOOOODDDWWWIIINNNDDD!!!!!!”
Juliet Bloodwind
To the accompanying sonic assault of Rage Against the Machine's "Killing in the Name ", Juliet Bloodwind, emerges atop the ramp. The crowd erupts into a supportive roar, happy to see the Tempe Temptress back in action once more. And that roar grows only louder as Navajo Nation recognizes the change in Juliet’s garb:
Namely, that tonight, the Tempe Temptress actually sports the *Nubile Navajo’s* garb!
The elder Bloodwind stands clad in a faux deerskin halter, the shoulder straps eventually becoming two thin strings that crisscross her otherwise bare back. She also wears matching bikini bottoms, augmented by for lack of a better term a "half loin cloth" that descends to mid-thigh in the front, and that fails to obscure the view of her derriere in the back--Juliet’s rear view not particularly overshadowed by the woman who normally wore this gear. Ugg boots moulded to resemble moccasins adorn her feet, and the Intercontinental title replaces Nyssa’s Lightweight strap to complete the ensemble.
Normally, the Tempe Temptress exudes a flirtatious confidence as she struts down the steel toward the ring. The pigtailed Juliet would slaps hands with the fans sitting along the ramp... but not tonight. Tonight, Bloodwind pays little attention to the fans cheering for her. She doesn’t reach for any of the offered hands along the railing. She doesn’t pause for pics or to flirt with any of her smitten supporters--no, not even the one carrying his usual sign: "CONSIDER ME TEMPTED, TEMPE TEMPTRESS!"
No, tonight the Tempe Temptress SPRINTS down the aisle, her focus on one thing and one thing only: the woman who had done her best to maim her precious little sister. And as Juliet dives under the bottom rope, it’s patently obvious that the Native American warrior won’t be heading to her corner or playing to her fans. She’ll instead be making a beeline for the Pleasant Valley Two-Faced Bytch... whether the referee promptly calls for the bell or not.
Kylie starts to backpedal, a look of terror on her face as the Hawkeye's back hits the buckles behind her. She frantically screams at the official to stop Juliet and the man tries, but he quickly gets shoves aside. With the zebra on his ass, the elfin blonde decides it's time to evacuate the squared circle. She turns and sets a leg through the ropes, her head and half her torso behind. But the retreat is more than a little tardy and Juliet sinks her nails into Sanders' golden locks, Kylie howling as she's yanked back into the ring.
Juliet doesn't relinquish her hold on Kylie's mane after getting her back into the ring. Instead, she uses those dual grips to send Sanders FLYING across the ring--and it seems the FAWNatics aren't particularly bothered by these tactics. Of course, just about anything goes in a match such as this. Kylie hits the mat with a thud and a groan, the Tempe Temptress charging after her...
... but as Bloodwind starts to drop an elbow, Kylie KEEPS rolling, slipping under the bottom rope and dropping to the floor. The Hawkeye quickly picks herself up...
... but, equally quickly, back in the ring Juliet is able to call an audible. Aborting her elbow drop, the brunette takes the briefest of moments to right her balance... and then she races toward the ropes, sliding out to the floor behind Kylie. And Sanders quickly sets off to the races, forcing the Tempe Temptress to give chase around ringside.
Sanders shows off her long past college softball background, rounding the bases with Bloodwind feet from her backside, ready to tag her. Kylie hightails it through a full circuit of the ring before diving back in. Juliet follows, but by the time she does, the blonde is already on her feet and turning to Nyssa's sister. Sanders leaps in the air to nail the back of Juliet's noggin with an elbow drop. But as quickly as Bloodwind is sliding in, she's pushing out and Kylie's elbow SLAMS into the thinly covered plywood instead. Sanders yelps in pain, cursing, as she cradles her wounded wing.
The Tempe Temptress starts to slide back into the ring properly, now that her opponent has other things to worry about than eluding her--such as the ache in her elbow. But, perhaps surprisingly, Bloodwind shows some restraint, and instead settles for climbing onto the apron. Clutching the top rope with both hands, Juliet lies in wait, watching as the elfin blonde begins to pick herself up, Sanders' back presented to the Intercontinental champion. When Kylie starts to turn, Bloodwind begins to rock back, preparing to vault onto the top rope--and from there, launch her springboard clothesline.
SPRINGBOARD CLOTHESLINE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=gtDsx5m2WRo
Juliet leaps to her springboard cleanly in front a still distracted Sanders. And when she uses the ropes to bounce her way toward Kylie, the blonde's hazel eyes bulge in alarm. There's simply no time to duck and Juliet's right arm CRASHES across Kylie's throat, ripping the smaller blonde off her feet. The Hawkeye's back and back of her head SMACK against the deck. Ending on her back, Ky cradles her skull, boots pattering against the canvas.
Juliet's momentum initially sends the Native American warrior rolling away from her enemy... but not for long. Rising to her hands and knees, the Tempe Temptress turns and quickly scampers over to the fallen Sanders. Bloodwind mounts her nemesis, climbing into a straddle of Kylie's belly. Then, balling both her left and right hands into fists, the Intercontinental champion begins to reign punches toward the face of the reeling elfin blonde, Navajo Nation continuing to roar as Juliet looks ready to continue extracting her pound of flesh.
Sanders covers up as best she can, but a few of the swabbing fists find an opening. With no disqualifications, the official stands idly by, so there's no escape for the blonde but one she can make on her own. Instead Kylie bucks, trying to throw off her rider, or at least up so she can slide out the back door, free herself from the Navajo and scramble for the outside again.
It takes some frantic flailing and thrashing, but eventually Kylie manages to send Juliet tumbling off of her. Alas, the Tempe Temptress doesn't go falling nearly far enough. Sanders starts to roll toward the ropes, but before she can, Bloodwind grabs hold of her ankles. Rising to her feet, the Native American beauty starts to drag a squirming Hawkeye toward the near corner. "One of us might be getting ended tonight, bytch," the Tempe Temptress snarls, "but it's not gonna be me..." Juliet then starts to rock back, looking to launch the Pleasant Valley princess into the corner with a catapult.
For each action there is an equal and opposite reaction and no amount of Kylie's pleading, her hands waving high, palms extended, stops Bloodwind from dropping to her back and simultaneously LAUNCHING the Iowan HIGH into the air above her. With one law proven, gravity comes next and Ky's forehead SMASHES into the top buckle. Sanders is sent reeling from the impact, her head whiplashing away from the corner. Her rubbery legs manage to keep Sanders upright as she trails off in a wide arc that slowly directs her back, almost blindly, to her starting point.
Juliet proves surprising adept at not only getting back to her feet quickly, but leaving them QUICKER, and the result for Kylie is a faceful of Uggs in the form of an impressive dropkick. Sanders is immediately knocked into a backpedal, which FINALLY puts the treacherous Hawkeye in the corner, Sanders' arms spilling over the top rope. Again, the Tempe Temptress scrambles to her feet--and this time, she surges into the corner after her opponent. Stepping to the side, Bloodwind draws back her choppin' hand, ready to unleash a very early--but likely no less effective--Knife Edge Massacre.
KNIFE EDGE MASSACRE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=8doUJsDnGL8
Kylie barely gets out a squeaky "pleeease...don't" before Juliet unleashes her rightful wrath upon Kylie. The Native American grappler sends stinging chop after chop into the chest of FAWN's former favorite. Each CRAAACKS louder than the last, Kylie spasming in pain, her legs pumping up and down, her body reacting in a way that doesn't help the hellacious firestorm that stops for a moment but only for Bloodwind to reload and begin again. Finally, Juliet gives her hand a big lollypop lick and lays one last echoing chop into the rosy chest of the Hawkeye that sends Kylie dropping to her knees. Sanders only remains upright to that degree from her arms loosely surrounding Juliet's hips, Ky's bobbling head resting against Jules' lower abdomen.
Bloodwind takes a small step back... only to DRILL a kneelift right between the Hawkeye's eyes. With a groan, Sanders sags backward, dropping to her backside and reclining back against the buckles. The former sweetheart of the FAWNatics' legs spill into a wide 'V' before her, Kylie's arms hanging limp at her sides. The Tempe Temptress turns to fix the official with a warning glare. "Don't you even THINK about counting yet." Bloodwind then retreats to the far corner, turning on a dime and then sprinting back at the reeling Hawkeye. As she zooms in, the Tempe Temptress readies one more knee smash for Kylie's mug, this time with a Panic Attack.
PANIC ATTACK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=71snnULKf4g
Juliet sprints in for what might just be the finishing touch. She leaps, knee leading the way. But as she launches, Ky is able to drag her flagging frame to the side and Bloodwind RAMS her joint between the buckles with enough momentum it reaches the steel ringpost behind. As Nyssa's sister mewls in pain, limping around the ring from the fateful miss, Kylie pulls herself up with the help of the ropes, leaning drunkenly against them. She shakes some senses back into place and staggers after the hobbling Bloodwind, trying to time a shoulderblock into the back of the knee of the wounded limb.
It might not be as honourable a strategy as formerly associated with Kylie Sanders, but for a Last Woman Standing match, ensuring that your opponent CAN'T stand is a pretty smart one. It doesn't take much effort for the Hawkeye to dive toward Juliet--honestly, at the moment, remaining ON her feet would probably be a more arduous task. And Sanders' shoulder SLAMS into the pit of the Tempe Temptress' right knee. The effect is instantaneous, Juliet crumpling the mat, curling into a ball a clutching at her hampered knee while Kylie rolls to her back just a couple of feet away, breathing heavily, but the tide stemmed.
Sanders rises and gets several good stomps in to the side of the injured joint before heading to the outside, a detour the FAWNatics recognize. Ky slips her head under the apron and finds what she's looking for in the form of a folding chair. The Hawkeye slides back in with it and wields it proudly. "Recognize this," she shouts at Juliet, still writhing on the canvas. "OK. So it's not the same one, but let's make it useful too." Kylie grabs the legs so she can direct the top rim of the chairback properly, brandishing it toward Juliet's right knee. "So you think a tournament?" Kylie asks. "One can only leave a title undefended for so long." With that said, she sends the chair toward the connection point of bone ligaments and tendons.
Fortunately for the Tempe Temptress and Navajo Nation, Juliet manages to roll clear before the rim of the chair can make contact with her. Instead, the steel hits harsh canvas, the jolt of the misfire straightening Kylie Sanders with a shudder. But the Hawkeye quickly works her way through the shockwaves, and reloads as Bloodwind rolls up to her knees. Deprived her previous target, the elfin blonde chooses another--and this one she connects with, the backrest of the folded chair SLAMMING into the crown of Bloodwind's skull. Juliet groans as she slumps back, remaining on her knees as she settles onto her haunches, swaying in a most unsteady fashion.
Tossing the weapon aside, Kylie steps up to the wobbling Bloodwind and inserts the head of the Intercontinental Champion between her thighs, locking her ankles as she squeeezes Juliet's noggin in a standing head scissors. "Yeah. She's REALLY making me pay," Kylie shouts gleefully to the crowd. "Making her sister proud, I'm sure." Ky does a tomahawk chop top at the FAWNatics, humming the familiar Atlanta Brave chant as she prepares to sit out and THUMP Juliet's face into the canvas in humiliating fashion.
Kylie might never be mistaken for Ivy Armstrong in the scissor department, but her thighs still have enough power to quickly render the Tempe Temptress... errrrr... red-faced. Bloodwind's arm rise, her hands moving to the elfin blonde's thighs. Had she been on her feet, Juliet might have been able to straighten up and launch Sanders with a backdrop. But, from her knees, there's no dislodging her opponent. Kylie instead falls backward, of her own volition, and DRIVES the face of the Intercontinental champion viciously into the mat. From her tush, Kylie pushes her legs further apart, providing the face down Bloodwind plenty of space in which to spasm between them.
Kylie climbs out from the tangle with Bloodwind and strolls around the face down Juliet. She turns to the ref. "And what are you waiting for?" The man realizes his mistake and begins to count...
ONE...
TWO...
THREE...
He makes it to SIX before Juliet struggles to her feet. Kylie steps to the limping Navajo. She folds up the leg containing Bloodwind's bad right knee with one hand and sends the opposite arm circling around the back of her foe, hoping to launch Juliet off the canvas and send her knee crashing down across her own bended stem when she genuflects, continuing to tear apart the joint piece by piece until there's nothing left but shreds.
The anguished Tempe Temptress goes wide-eyed as she's hoisted into the air--and her right hand swiftly balls into a fist. Unfortunately, before she can fire her first punch toward Kylie's face, the Pleasant Valley princess drops to one knee--and drops Juliet's shin down across her posted thigh. Navajo Nation groans, while their champion herself HOWLS in agony, propelled off her feet by the force of the maneuver. Bloodwind flies into the ropes--and she promptly makes use of them, wrapping her arms around the top cable to give her one good leg some much needed support in supporting her.
Kylie straightens back to vertical, lifting her arms high in a wide 'V', drawing the considerable ire of the assembled. She walks to the aching Juliet and bullies her down the length of the ropes to a corner where the elfin blonde spins Bloodwind to face her. "How about a few knife-edges, ladies and gents? Show this reject how it's done!" Kylie pivots and flattens her right palm, ready to backhand the chest of the wincing Jules until the Navajo has a severe case of chop rash to go with her soon to be dismantled right knee.
'THWAAACK!'
"Yaaaaaaaggghhhh..." the Tempe Temptress howls.
"OOOOOOOOOOHHHH!!!!!" Navajo Nation gasps, always a little taken aback when someone displays the audacity to try to out-chop Juliet.
Sanders lands a second open hand, but as she draws her hand back for a third, Bloodwind reaches out. Grabbing hold of Kylie's shoulders, the Native American warrior spins and shoves Sanders back against the buckles. Juliet returns fire, BLISTERING the Hawkeye's chest with a vicious chop...
... but it's not just Kylie who cries out. Bloodwind gives a yelp of her own as her weight shifts onto her right knee. The Tempe Temptress turns and takes an involuntary stagger away from the corner, but she soon rights herself and turns back toward her foe.
Alas, that hesitation proves all the time Sanders needs to return the favor, grabbing Juliet by the shoulders and trading places with the Intercontinental champion. The elfin blonde unloads with one more chop, but she soon shifts her approach, turning her attention back to Bloodwind's gam. Grabbing an ankle, Kylie threads Juliet's right leg over the middle rope. Then, returning her grasp to the Navajo's ankle, Sanders begins to cranks upward, forcing the rubber coated steel deep into the pit of Juliet's knee--and the ligaments and tendons therein!
Kylie works at the joint religiously. After an agonizing workout and a couple stomps for good measure, the blonde slides through the ropes and onto the apron, grabbing Bloodwind's right ankle with both hands. "I'm going to make Little Sis look like the lucky one by the time I'm done with you." Her piece said, Kylie prepares to hop off the deck and to the floor and hotshot Juliet's tenderized knee, bringing the attack to an all new high, or low.
When the Pleasant Valley Princess drops to the floor, Juliet's stem is savagely pulled along for the ride. And while there's some elasticity in the ropes, the cable doesn't yield nearly enough for Bloodwind's benefit. The Tempe Temptress lets out a piercing scream as her knee explodes in a fresh new wave of agony, one that overwhelms her plant leg and sends the Native American crashing to her backside Juliet tries to roll away, but there's one problem: her right leg remains tied up in the ropes, and any effort on her part to draw her gam loose results in another wave of torment that freezes Bloodwind in her tracks. Juliet can only content herself with curling up, reaching to massage her brutalized knee.
On the floor, Kylie moves to steel barrier, looking for a high five from some diehard member of the Corps. She finds only one hand raised. Sanders reaches for the slap, but the fan pulls his hand away and Kylie stumbles through a swing and miss. Enraged, Kylie dives at the fan, hands raised toward his throat. Luckily, he's able to fall back into the second row out of reach, the crowd cheering his psych job on Kylie and jeering at the aggravated blonde. Sanders turns back to the writhing Bloodwind on the canvas, not even having noticed she's fighting a count, Jules limping to her feet at 'SIX'.
"Time for the second shift," Kylie barks. She hops to the apron and slides through, collecting Juliet around the tummy in a front bearhug. Sanders pulls the Navajo to her, their chests and midriffs slapping together. Kylie cinches her grip tight, trying to get 'big girl' on the bigger Native American beauty and force every bit of breath from her foe.
Kylie doesn't get nearly enough credit for her strength--something Juliet can testify to the moment the blonde's arms begin to constrict around her waist While they might not be pythons of the 24 inch variety, they still do an effective job of SQUUUUUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZZZZZZZIIIIIINNNNGGGG the air right out of her. If there's a silver lining for the Tempe Temptress, it's that the hold almost forces Bloodwind to wrap her legs around Sanders' midriff, providing a bit of a temporary respite for her throbbing knee. But while she can cross her ankles, that very knee prevents Juliet from squeezing herself and trying to answer the Hawkeye's embrace with a body scissors. The proud Navajo soon raises trembling arms, her elbows cocked...
... but, instead of swinging those elbows toward Kylie's ear, she fashions her hands into knife edges, intending to swing them toward the base of the elfin blonde's neck, hoping to dislodge her bearhug with a Navajo chop.
NAVAJO CHOP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=G8ajD4qszaY
Juliet's edges SLAM into either nape. Kylie winces as her shoulders slump from the impacts, her embrace loosened considerably. Bloodwind repeats and Sanders' arms fall to her sides, letting the Tempe Temptress loose. And a third set THUMPS into either side of Ky's neck, the assault on the nerve bundles seeming to unhinge the Hawkeye's legs as Kylie falls to her knees, mewling. Dropping to her haunches to stabilize, Kylie tries to respond with a slug to Juliet's navel to end the rapid fire knife-edges.
Just as the FAWNatics were finally being given reason to cheer again, Kylie's fist deflates them almost as much as it does the Tempe Temptress herself. With a loud gasp, Bloodwind staggers backward, doubling over and pressing an arm to her tummy. This allows Sanders to shrug off the barrage of chops and rise, marching to her foe. Taking a wrist, the traitorous blonde starts to send Juliet on her way with an Irish whip, her lips curling into a smirk as she ponders whether Bloodwind's battered knee can carry her into the cables.
Instead, Juliet's knee holds firm as she REVERSES the whip! The Hawkeye races into the ropes, and Juliet takes a step to the side as Kylie rebounds toward her. Extending an arm, Bloodwind catches Kylie across the throat, spinning around to nuzzle against Sanders' back and cinch in a sleeper.
The warm satiny feel of Juliet's chest and abs tight against her back is lost in the panic of feeling Bloodwind's arms encircle her head and neck from behind. The limbs snake and clamp down around carotid and temple in an instant and send Sanders' arms flailing. The stricken blonde tries to reach over her shoulders to get a handhold on Juliet's raven locks, but she can't find the grip. For her part, Bloodwind presses down on the base of Kylie's neck with her mass, adding to Ky's troubles. The blonde's ivory legs give a shimmy as her blood flow continues to be slowed by the Intercontinental Champ. Kylie's hazel eyes show a hint of glassiness as her hands now reach out in desperation for the ropes in front of her. The crowd roaring at the thought of Sanders taking a humiliating nap in the middle of the ring.
As Kylie starts to lunge for the ropes, the Tempe Temptress takes a calculated gamble. With the Hawkeye's weight shifting forward, Bloodwind uses her left foot to propel herself airborne. Snaking her legs around Sanders' waist, Juliet cinches in a loose bodyscissors. Again, the Native American can't particularly add a second front to her assault--but, as it turns out, she doesn't need one. The increase in weight she has to support sends Kylie crashing to her knees. Juliet throws her weight to the right, trying to pull the elfin blonde down onto her side--and further away from the ropes.
With the crowd's roar growing by the second, Juliet leans into the smaller blonde, forcing Kylie to carry more of her weight. Sanders' arms grow leaden, barely reaching 45 degrees. Lids fluttering, the Hawkeye again tries to reach behind instead of in front. She gets a grip on her foe's raven locks. But the sleeper is starting to affect her coordination and the pull of Juliet's hair is more of a brush of the dark strands across Bloodwind's forehead. Kylie kneewalks one step and half of another toward the cables before she can hold Juliet's mass no longer. Ky falls to her right shoulder and hip, Juliet continuing to cinch her grip taut. Kylie's left arm waves like reeds in the wind, her legs shuddering as her body seems to be placed in shutdown mode by the Navajo much to the FAWNatics' delight.
"Don't think drifting off to sleep is going to save you," Juliet hisses into Kylie's ear, the Navajo's voice quiet yet menacing. "And don't think any bell is going to stop ME. After what you did to Nyssa... I hate to be cliche, but God might have mercy on your soul. Your ass is gonna belong to me!"
The Hawkeye's left arm straaaaaiiinnss toward the ropes, her fingernails digging into the canvas.... until her fingers themselves relax. The Tempe Temptress offers a weary smile as she can feel a trace of saliva reach her bicep. With increasingly few signs of consciousness, the referee drops to one knee and gently takes Sanders' left wrist. While a knockout wouldn't mean the end of the match, it would lead him to order Bloodwind to release the hold. He lifts Kylie's arm once...
...it falls flat to the canvas, the back of Kylie's palm making heavy contact. He lifts it again and another lifeless fall to the canvas, Sanders essentially making her own three-count.
Again, the zebra pulls the limp limb of the Hawkeye high and like lead it falls to the mat for THREE, Sanders knocked into a stupor, her eyes rolling half-white, tongue pushing between loose lips, Kylie forced to nap between the python-like tawny arms of the champ.
"Alright, Jules," the official barks. "She's out."
The Tempe Temptress gives Kylie's captive noggin a possessive tug.
"DAMMIT, BLOODWIND!" the ref snaps, far more forcefully. "If you don't let her go, you could seriously hurt her!"
"... and?" Juliet asks, her eyes full of vengeance.
"You REALLY wanna go down as THAT woman?" he pleads...
... and Juliet, grudgingly, releases the sleeper. She sends Kylie's body tumbling away with a shove, before rolling to her back herself, chest heaving.
The bytch was out... but Juliet Bloodwind WASN'T standing, either! Somewhat laboriously, the Navajo warrior pushes herself up to all fours and crawls toward the ropes. Reaching the cable, Bloodwind gingerly begins to pull herself up...
... and when her knee buckles, the Tempe Temptress sinks back to one knee. Gritting her teeth, Juliet struggles to rise again...
... and this time, while her knee falters, Bloodwind manages to remain vertical. Having one woman standing is all the official needs to begin counting...
While Juliet has her travails behind her, the time spent might have seen a ten-spot pass and the snoozing blonde is already stirring, if slightly, when the zebra begins his official count.
ONE...
TWO...
... and THREE passes without much incident or headway, Sanders lucky to do much more than blink her peepers and tuck her tongue back in, Ky blowing a spit bubble as she does.
FOUR...
FIVE...
... and SIX put some concern into the stands as the renowned ability to survive seems to kick in, Ky pushing to all fours, slowly but surely. And with Juliet watching on in amazement...
SEVEN...
EIGHT..
.and NINE...
... see the Hawkeye push her way up to a sagging, rubbery vertical, the ref waving off the count with a half-tick to go. Still looking plenty drowsy, Kylie motions Juliet forward with a softly muttered "Bring it bytch..."
And bring it the Tempe Temptress proceeds to do. Ignoring the stabbing jolts that run through her right knee, Juliet charges her swaying adversary, a drowsy Kylie's arms too sluggish to rise and block the forearm smashes that blast into her chest. Bloodwind's pummeling blows back the Hawkeye into the ropes, Juliet bodying in as she grabs Sanders wrist. Setting her feet, the Tempe Temptress starts to send Kylie off with an Irish whip, intending to meet her at center ring--and from there toss the blonde up and onto her shoulders for her pop-up Samoan drop.
POP-UP SAMOAN DROP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=OHt4woO9yig
Kylie is sent to the races and though it appears as though she may flop to the canvas at any second, the blonde's stubbornness holds her upright into the cables. Rebounding back to Juliet, the Arizona roadblock forces Kylie skyward, popping the Iowan into the air in front of her. A quick twist and Bloodwind is underneath when Sanders returns to earth, the elfin blonde landing across her foe's shoulders. And before Ky can counter, Juliet throws her body back, laying out and SPLASHING Kylie to the deck in violent fashion. Sanders spasms like a fish out of water from the impact, her vertebrae blasted.
Bloodwind quickly climbs to a seat on Kylie's chest, facing her feet. Leaning forward, the Tempe Temptress gathers up and hooks Sanders' legs. And while there's no count from the referee, of course, Navajo Nation is quick to shout out a...
"ONE!
TWO!
THREE!!!"
Tossing the Hawkeye's gams away, Juliet dismounts her foe, still favouring her right knee slightly as she stoops to haul the FAWN Original up with a handful of hair. Turning her back to Kylie's shoulder, Bloodwind slings an arm around her foe's neck, preparing to charge toward the near corner to deliver her Bloodhawk Plunge.
BLOODHAWK PLUNGE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=gMuGREYMsVs
Juliet draws the gobsmacked Kylie along with her toward the buckles and with the dexterity of a mountain sheep, Bloodwind scales the corner. Jules runs up the ropes on one side of the buckles and reaches the top. From there, the bronze-skinned warrior pushes off the uppermost buckle and turns both women in a u-turn. But while Juliet lands on her taut backside, Kylie's face is DRIVEN into the deck with brutal force. The FAWNatics explode with excitement, the ex-Corps delighting in Kylie's fate. The force of the impact sends Sanders flopping in a spasm to her back, the blonde in a starfish. Juliet rises and places a boot on Kylie's bosom and the crowd counts out the...
“ONE...
TWO...
THREE!!!!!”
... the lifeless blonde taking each without a twitch. Juliet raises her hands high, celebrating with the crowd, but knowing well that Kylie's demolition required more than that. She steps away to let the referee and the ever helpful crowd begin the TEN count.
"ONE...
TWO...
THREE...!!!"
... the referee AND the FAWNatics shout, in nearly perfect unison. The Tempe Temptress reclines against the ropes, raising her right Ugg off the canvas ever so slightly, to take her weight off her knee as she watches the snoozing Hawkeye.
"FOUR...
FIVE...!!!!!"
Again, the Pleasant Valley Princess shows some of that resiliency of hers--a quality which once endeared her to the masses, but now draws their ire. She rolls over to her stomach... but, instead of rising, Kylie starts to drag herself toward the ropes....
"SIX....!!!"
She starts to drag herself up, with the aide of the cables...
"SEVEN...!!!!"
The elfin blonde slumps back to her knees, Navajo Nation ROARING as Kylie drops back to square one.
"EIGHT... !!!!!"
Sanders resumes her efforts, her hands rising from the middle to the top cable as she hauls herself up....
"NINE...!!!!!!"
Back on her feet, Kylie pushes away from the cables... and her legs, though wobbly, hold, Sanders remaining on her feet.
The FAWNatics groan... but Juliet SURGES toward her prey, meeting the Hawkeye after a few faltering steps. Slipping her right arm underneath Kylie's left wing, the Tempe Temptress turns away from her foe, attempting to shrug Sanders up onto her back. If she could get her there, a Tempe Twister might ensure she stays down for ten minutes, let alone ten seconds.
TEMPE TWISTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=N5XIgEYg72U
Locking arms with blasted Sanders, the raging Bloodwind plucks her blonde off the deck. If it was beginning to look like the Tempe Temptress is enjoying picking up three-count after three-count just to toy with Kylie, with Sanders strapped across her back, this maneuver would prove differently. With Kylie squirming for an escape as best as she can, Juliet launches the Hawkeye off her back, Ky swinging around to Bloodwind's front where the Navajo sits out and SPIKES Kylie's face into the deck with the Twister. Sanders flops to her back from the impact and into an increasingly familiar motionless spreadeagle.
Bloodwind climbs back to her feet-a pre-requisite for winning a contest such as this. But even as the referee starts to count, Juliet doesn't appear ready to trust that the Twister has done enough. Approaching the splattered Hawkeye, the Tempe Temptress grabs a wrist and drags Kylie's carcass into alignment with the near corner. Satisfied with her framing of Sanders, the Intercontinental champion retreats a couple of feet from Kylie's prone form--and as she does, Navajo Nation launches to their feet, awaiting the Bloodhawk Dive with rapt anticipation.
Juliet takes just a moment to shift her weight onto her right leg. Satisfied she can endure the ache in her knee as long as necessary, the Tempe Temptress breaks into a sprint. Hopping over the Hawkeye, Bloodwind grimaces upon touching done--but she still launches herself toward the top turnbuckle, intending to vault back into the picture perfect moonsault that would undoubtedly end Kylie's evening.
And as the Native American beauty flies into the air above the waylaid Sanders, Kylie paying dearly for wronging Juliet's sister, the FAWNatics leap to their feet. Bloodwind backflips high then lets gravity and nature take its course, sending her golden midriff toward Kylie's ivory number for a fateful and final splashdown of the night. But as Juliet drops toward the target, Kylie manages to pull her legs in, moving out of the way well beyond her, the elfin blonde hoping to gut the champ and end her warpath.
With the Tempe Temptress already on final approach, there's precious little she can do as Sanders' knees rise upward. There's not nearly enough time for Bloodwind to try and shift, either so she can fly beyond her opponent or land on her feet. There's barely even time for the Native American beauty to suck in an alarmed gasp. But once her belly crashes to the rocky shore, there's PLENTY of time for Juliet to gasp as she bounces away. The Intercontinental champion lands on her back, a couple of feet away from Sanders, her eyes closed and both arms pressed tightly to her impaled abdomen.
As for Sanders, her legs straighten, but she's nowhere near rising. With the crowd silenced, there's movement from Juliet, but for long seconds neither is anywhere near reaching their feet. Bloodwind is on all fours, but with her head sunken near the canvas. A dazed Kylie is seated, but with no apparent idea what state she's in let alone that Jules has a jump on her. The Navajo makes it to one knee and then her feet with Ky having added no progress whatsoever. With Jules up, the official starts a count on Kylie. But Bloodwind's not waiting, as she sinks her nails into the Hawkeye's scalp and tugs the blonde from her backside to a wobbily kneel. Before the Navajo can make the apparent ragdoll
Brian: rise, Kylie's frame stiffens and she swings her right arm like a pendulum, hoping to THUMP a forearm home into Juliet's nether region.
Bloodwind's grasp on the elfin blonde's locks is broken the instant Kylie's blow lands downstairs. While it might be a heinous and deplorable attack, in a match like this, there was nothing illegal about it. Juliet turns away from her opponent, doubling over and staggering knock-kneed a couple of strides away. But the Tempe Temptress' wobbly gait doesn't last long before she sinks to her knees--and from there, she tumbles over onto her right hip. Choking back tears, the glistening Native American beauty curls into a ball, her thighs clenched tightly together--and both her hands wedged directly between them.
Still, the fight in Bloodwind remains and before Kylie can get to full vertical, Juliet's pushes to all fours, though her legs remain glued together from the pulsating pain from below. The blonde's drooping head rises and seeing Juliet on hands and knees seems to send fuel into the Hawkeye. Kylie struggles to her feet and staggers to the ropes at Juliet's side. The turncoat bytch rebounds toward the seemingly unaware Bloodwind and, as Ky approaches, she leaps into the air, her front boot raised high and poised to curbstomp Juliet's face into the thinly-covered plywood.
Alas, for Navajo Nation, there ends up being nothing just "seemingly" about Juliet's level of awareness. Kylie's foot plants against the back of Bloodwind's noggin, before a shift of Sanders' weight SLAMS the Tempe Temptress' face down into the canvas. As the Hawkeye lands, it's unclear whether she trips over her own feet or whether exhaustion sends Kylie to her knees. Which proves to be a good thing for Juliet and her fans, as the reigning Intercontinental champion is left a shuddering mass of glistening flesh and faux deerskin, Bloodwind moaning softly.
Not completely aware of what had happened when her foe was in control but vaguely aware of hearing at least a couple "THREES" from the crowd, Sanders spins to face the splattered Juliet and scoops the golden-brown grappler to her back. Kylie dives atop her foe's chest in a lateral press, still with not enough in her tank to hook a leg. "Slap it," Ky grunts to the ref, wanting to show the jackasses in the stands who was the better woman.
"Kylie," the referee begins to protest, "you know damned..."
"SLAP IT!!!" Sanders demands again.<
And, with a defeated shrug of his shoulders, the zebra drops to his knees beside them. The crowd unloads on both Kylie for her display and for the official for his spineless acquiescence. But a few of the blackhearts in the stands still call out along with his strikes...
"ONE...
TWO...
TH...."
The Tempe Temptress THROWS her right fist into the air, her arm falling across her sternum--and lifting her shoulder off the canvas. Bloodwind's gesture of defiance draws a mixture of thunderous cheers and laughter from Navajo Nation.
Kylie's hands fly to her own shoulder-length flaxen locks and pull at her follicles in disbelief. "DAMN IT!" she screams then slaps the mat in a childish tantrum before realizing she could be slapping Juliet's tummy instead, which she does a half dozen blistering times, drawing a red streak across Bloodwind's belly. "Shea's puppet still has some tension left in her strings?" Kylie growls. There's no verbal follow-up, but Sanders does yank the Temptress to her feet for a physical version. Dipping, she sends an arm between Juliet's legs, hoping to pop the bigger woman up and across her shoulders in a fireman's carry and end this farce with not any ordinary PVD but a running version.
RUNNING PLEASANT VALLEY DRIVER @ 00:56:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=fKw3UoKJcbI
Getting Juliet onto her shoulders proves to be the easiest part--but once she's there, the Tempe Temptress starts firing elbows into the side of Kylie's skull. The FAWNatics, buoyed by Bloodwind's resistance, urge her on, and when the second elbow strike buckles Sanders' gams, the audience is ready to celebrate. But that proves premature. While Juliet manages to land a third elbow, the Pleasant Valley princess' stems stiffen. And before Jules can launch a fourth, Sanders begins to charge across the ring, Kylie's sudden acceleration enough to stifle Bloodwind's barrage. After a few strides, Sanders abruptly lays out, slinging the Tempe Temptress off her shoulders and DRIVING her down on her head, shoulders and back. Again, the beautiful Navajo warrior is left a spasming mess--with the Pleasant Valley princess thankfully down on the mat with her, rather than standing.
Perhaps not wanting to test Bloodwind again and come up wanting, Kylie passes on another pin attempt and motions that the zebra can go ahead and start his ten-count now. While he gets to his job, Sanders noticeably evacuates the ring, sliding out under the bottom rope and setting out on a search under the apron. It takes a couple sides of the apron before she pulls out her booty and, by then, the count is up to...
SEVEN...
... the crowd pleading with Juliet to make it up from one knee. As she struggles to do so, Ky enters with a length of heavy rope and, at the end? Ky has a hankerin that can only be met with more cowbell. She rolls in with her discovery. Letting the rope trail behind her, Kylie grasps the bell tight with both hands, ready to ram it into the forehead of Bloodwind if/when she makes it up in time.
Honestly, Navajo Nation has hardly noticed Kylie's foraging--their attention had been solely focused on rallying their champion. 'TEM-PE TEMP-TRESS!" they chant, loud enough to rouse the dead--but only just loud enough to reach the battered Bloodwind. A cheer runs through the audience as Juliet makes it to rubbery legs at about Nine and Seven-Eighths...
... only to be greeted upon her return to verticality with Kylie's procured cowbell SMASHING into her mug. The Tempe Temptress is knocked into a backpedal, her eyes crossing as she stumbles, Juliet finally caught by the ropes. Her arms spill over the top cable, which is ALL that keeps her standing.
A beaming Kylie, perfect pearlies flashing, strides to the semiconscious Navajo, tossing the rope and bell to the side as she closes. Sanders draws one limp arm over the ropes and throws it over her shoulders, then removes Bloodwind's opposite number from the cable by leading her away from the corner. Ky "assists" a rubber-legged Jules to the middle where the blonde hiptosses the IC champion to the deck. Kylie drops to her knees next to the raven-haired grappler and spreads her rival out like butter on toast, dropping across Juliet in a lateral press. "Count it or I may take that cowbell to you," Kylie warns the ref.
This time, there's no protest from the referee. There comes PLENTY from the FAWNatics as he slides into position and checks Juliet's shoulders, but deprived the threat of a disqualification to discourage Kylie from making good on her vow, he isn't about to take any chances. And again, some of the more twisted in the stands shout out with his count...
"ONE...
TWO..."
No kickout this time.
"THREE!!!!!!!!!"
The Tempe Temptress barely even twitches underneath Kylie, instead only uttering a few soft mewls.
"Better," Kylie grunts, using Juliet's waylaid frame to push up. Sanders enjoys it so much she uses her foe's chest and tummy to do a set of five. Finally, the elfin blonde rises and backs a few steps away. "You may count, stooge."
The man hovers over the motionless heap of Bloodwind and begins counting...
ONE...
TWO...
THREE...
FOUR...
FIVE...
THEN, and ONLY then, does the Tempe Temptress show some semblance of life. But that merely consists of rolling over to her stomach. Casually reclining against the ropes, Kylie looks on, unperturbed.
SIX...
Juliet can't push her way up to her hands and knees, but she can start dragging herself, on her belly, toward the ropes--notably a DIFFERENT set of cables than the ones Sanders currently occupies.
SEVEN...
EIGHT...
Bloodwind grips at the cables, the Native American beauty groaning in determination as she attempts to draw herself up...
NINE...
Juliet steps away from the ropes... and remains upright! She STARTS to take a further step toward mid-ring but with a swoon, the Tempe Temptress sags backward, taking a seat on the middle rope.
Kylie takes a spot in the center and motions Juliet to come to her. Bloodwind seems unable and Sanders doesn't approve. "Did I tell you how much I loved hurting your sister?" Ky asks, drawing some fire back into Bloodwind's dark eyes. "I wouldn't give up the gold for just anyone. But I have to say nearly maiming her was an exhilarating moment." Kylie chuckles when Juliet tries to push off the cables and toward her. "C'mon lil Injun," Kylie baby-talks. "I hear you're the one that could."
Adrenaline can be a beautiful thing--at it can be triggered by the most disgusting of words. But Kylie's barbs serve to inject a little more strength back into Bloodwind's watery stems. As laborious as pushing away from the ropes had been, once she's away from them, the Tempe Temptress is able to charge toward the blonde Hawkeye with far more speed than she by any rights should be able to manage--even with the slight hitch remaining thanks to her right knee. Bloodwind balls her right first, and swings her arm in a looping shot at Kylie's temple. But adrenaline can only do so much. While her stride is purposeful, her swing is sloppy, though there's still probably power enough behind it to do some damage.
But the blonde spider is more than ready for her fly and Kylie ducks the right cross with room to spare. Snuggling in as she dips, Sanders wraps her arms tight around the golden-brown midriff of Bloodwind and cinches tight, drawing a throaty gasp from a Navajo running on fumes. Kylie lifts the champ off the canvas and drops to one knee, splitting Juliet's wickets in wicked fashion. The inverted atomic drop seems to nearly divider Juliet up the middle and when the elfin blonde removes her knee, Juliet is the consistency of gooey caramel, sinking to her knees with watery eyes and gaping jaw.
Ky moves from one to two knees in front of Bloodwind. Both women kneel, face to face. Kylie offering Juliet a body to lean on. But as Bloodwind inexorably lists toward Sanders, Kylie snakes her arms around the back and sides of Juliet's head and directs her face toward the Hawkeye's bosom. "Meet the new geysers," Kylie shouts for the crowd more than Bloodwind. "Much better than the old geysers." Kylie secures Juliet's lips and nose into her cleavage, hugging the back of her noggin so the seal is a tight one.
For the first time in a long time, Kylie Sanders actually earns herself some cheers from the FAWNatics, simply for her use of weaponry. But, while not inconsiderable, those cheers are nowhere near as loud as the ones she used to routinely get--and there are still a sizeable number of fans booing as the Tempe Temptress faces being snuffed out. Now BOTH her hands ball into fists, Bloodwind slugging away at the elfin blonde's flanks...
... but while the Hawkeye grunts through the fist couple of punches, the blows that follow are increasingly easy to endure. Kylie brings the pummeling to a brief halt when she shakes her upper body side-to-side, Bloodwind's noggin along for the ride. And by the time Juliet's hands move against Sanders again, they do so with mere slaps against Kylie's sides.
Kylie isn't taking soft, weak caresses as her signal. No. The smothering blonde keeps Juliet tight until the Navajo's arms are limp. With Bloodwind the consistency of overcooked noodles, Sanders finally lets Juliet's greasy face fall from her breasts, a line of spittle drawing away from Juliet's pouty lower lip to the cleft of Kylie's gurls. The Hawkeye lets Bloodwind down almost gently, not wanting to wake the KO’ed Jules from her slumber. Instead of leaning the gobsmacked Bloodwind on her back, thighs atop calves, Kylie drops her with a slight roll, placing Juliet down on her face, chest, and pelvis, a seemingly broken champion.
Clearly eschewing a pin this time from the way she's placed her foe, Kylie doesn't bark orders at the official. Instead, she moves to the discarded length of rope as the zebra begins his count and, while the FAWNatics look on in disbelief, Kylie begins to pluck limp limbs off the canvas. First, she captures right arm and right leg, slowly forcing them close until ankle and wrist can be bound. After the initial knot, the rest come easier. A dumbfounded official, having halted his count with contact between Sanders and Bloodwind, watches intently but knows he has no right to intervene. Working like she might have taken lessons from Beth Jenkins, Kylie finishes the job, corralling all four limbs and knotting them together, the gathering of limbs meeting over the base of Juliet's now curved spine.
A smirking Kylie rises and turns to the crowd revelling in the faces of amazement and anger then to the referee. "Go on," she says. "I believe you might just make it this time."
Even without her ropework, the official completing his count had seemed all but a certainty. But now, could it be anything but a foregone conclusion. With an impotent shake of the head, the ref begins to count.
“ONE...
TWO...
THREE...
FOUR..."
"...huuunnnnyyyuuuuunnnnhhhhhhhh..."
It's the softest of mumbles from the Tempe Temptress, but it's still a sign of consciousness returning to her.
"FIVE...
SIX... "
With another feeble moan, Juliet tries to bring her hands to the mat and push up to her knees...
"SEVEN..."
... but when she cannot, the still disoriented Native American warrior utters a soft, incoherent, plaintive moan.
"EIGHT..."
Still unsure of WHY her limbs weren't cooperating with her, Bloodwind tries again--and, predictably, fails, resulting in an even louder--if no more coherent--whimper of protest.
Sanders couldn't touch the hogtied Juliet if she didn't want the count to start over and, though she liked her knots, no reason to test them. After all, she was no longer a Girl Scout. But she could and does drop into a crouch, down in front of Juliet, nearly nose to nose, as the count grows. "What will dear Nyssa think of you?" Kylie asks with an unnerving smirk.
"NINE..."
"Such a worthless pair, aren't you?"
Juliet loads up a loogey and puts one dead center into Kylie's mug at...
"TEN!!!!!!"
The smile on the blonde disappears very quickly. Boiling, Kylie wipes off the mess as unobtrusively as possible, placing most of the juice back on its source. Kylie, her face turning red even as she maintains an air of calm, flips Juliet to her back as the PA makes things clear. "YOUR WINNER, AND THE LAST WOMAN STANDING... KYYYLLLIIIEEE SAAANNNDDDEEERRRSSS!!!!!"
The Hawkeye moves to a vertical forward straddle of Juliet's face. "Bye," she says, almost softly, and drops straight down, sitting out on Juliet's face. The thump draws an audible groan from the crowd and, though Kylie weighs in at a mere 115 pounds, dropping it from a stance on someone's features. Well, when Kylie gets up, Juliet is again in dreamland, this time with blood trickling from a nostril.
A sweat-soaked Sanders turns to the nearest lens, wiping sweat and spit from her brow. "That makes me uncrowned lightweight champ AND uncrowned Intercontinental champ. These beltless championships are all well and good. But this body..." Kylie stops to run her hands down her bruised but beautiful frame..."deserves some glitter. EMILY. The time has come to show you, this organization, and these fans that, in your terms, I've graduated. I am the next World Champion. Hell, I am the current World Champion and you just don't know it yet. So at Season's Beatings, I'm giving the world a gift and presenting them with the BEST WORLD CHAMPION EVER BORN...me."