Post by SammieSinclair on Dec 20, 2014 18:57:32 GMT
The evening’s entertainment had been living up to its potential and then some, the FAWNatics already in high spirits before they began discussing what was to come next. Many of them had the evening’s card in hand, and while such things were never set in stone, none of them believed that the next competition would find itself derailed. No-one would dare.
The Loyalist Legionnaires had arrived in force, the cross section of supporters who were forever faithful to one faction above the others accounting for a significant percentage of the masses watching, and they were now barely able to contain their eager anticipation. Just as the tension threatened to become palpable, the speakers spoke once more, the opening guitar riff they all knew so well swelling hearts the crowd over.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=6gj_V_gKI4Q&list=PLPuOyWan3CRuPoCuzoiHkAq0VNWg308E4&index=4
The Leader of the Upstart Nation burst out into sight with a bright smile and her freckles blushing a naturally bashful crimson, her hands raised up high as the People were extremely vocal in welcoming their Princess into the stadium, wrestling royalty returning after far too long on the sidelines due to injury. She smiled all the more, the young woman’s embarrassment at the adulation only increasing, the Tiny Titan of a sprite owning the stage as she stood at its centre, shaking her hips in rhythm with her music as her heart beat a mile a minute.
SAMANTHA SINCLAIR
She was, as always when about to march upon the squared circle, attired in gold and sapphire, the colours of her infamous wrestling family, bright beneath the floodlights as the whisper thin fabric that she wore caught and hugged her pleasingly modest curves in all the right places. Samantha twirled there on the spot, hands still held up high in greeting, the FAWNatics enjoying a full view of the Pixie battler, her athletic frame wrapped in a bright yellow two piece, sports bra and boy cut shorts following her every contour.
The Bright Eyed Wonder popped up onto her tiptoes as she suddenly cheered back, stretching out her petite frame to its tallest inch, showing off the softly sculptured lines of her bare tummy, before she rocked back down onto the soles of her knee high, blue boots. She kept her hands raised up, smirking in impish fasion as she wiggled her fingers, the Loyalist Legionnaires knowing full well what was to be expected of them. Satisfied that they were ready, she began clapping, loud and proud as the crowd joined in with her, the entire arena making a deafening statement of intent.
ONCE!
TWICE!!
THRICE!!!
Immediately following the final clap she pointed dramatically towards the ring and, on cue, pyrokenetics exploded to either side of the stage beside her, the BOOM!! whipping the crowd into a renewed frenzy and, much to her embarrassment, causing Sinclair herself to bounce in fright.
She hopped with a loud giggle, skipping into a sprint that took her rapidly towards the squared circle. She slapped as many hands as possible, picking out her most sincere fans as if she possessed a radar, darting from one side of the aisle to the other, pausing only to deliver a warm hug.
The number of Legionnaires seemed to have grown even further in recent months, their ranks swelled by those who once made up a certain Corps, one abandoned by their Babyfaced idol and reeling from rejection. The Upstarts made for the perfect tonic to see off the pain of disillusionment, Samantha Sinclair and her cherub cheeked girls raising the banner higher when others had fallen short.
The Little Sparrow reached the squared circle as quickly as she could whilst acknowledging her Factions Faithful Followers, arriving in no time flat and, without pausing for a single step, made a show of effortlessly bunny hopping up onto apron with a spritely hop. She was immediately thankful to not feel the dreaded twinge of her right knee, daring to begin hoping that perhaps she had finally left the lingering injury behind her.
Leaning backwards for just a moment, her paws grasping the top coil tightly, the People’s Princess threw her delightfully athletic frame of Perfectly Petite Proportions into a flawless forward flip, clearing the uppermost rope and the soles of her blue boots landing lightly upon the canvas with a gleeful bounce and an accompanying “WHOOP!!” from the crowd watching.
Samantha skipped and smiled anew, embracing the fresh wave of applause as an equally fresh wave of nerves fluttered within her tummy. She was back, no false starts tonight, she was back and nothing was going to stop her. The Most Prolific of the Sinclairs opened her bright eyes of baby brown and exhaled deeply, this was it.
Time to settle a score from FAWNMANIA!!
With one prodigal daughter back in the house, the sound of The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus’ ‘You Better Pray’ rocks the arena and the FAWNatics turn to the upper stage as one. The assembled release their disdain even before the once upon a time leader of the Mighty Mites and champion of the sub-125 set makes her appearance. The PA’s pronouncement only draws the decibels higher.
“And her opponent…she hails from Iowa City, Iowa… Standing 4 feet 11 inches tall and weighing 117 pounds… The Golden Mite herself…JANEL MANNING!”
With the introduction complete, it’s time for Manning to emerge onto the stage, apparently without the Icy Mite, Jenny Lewis, the FAWNatics thanking themselves for small favours. But before the Mite-y One comes into view, the arena falls into darkness, a red spotlight illuminates the stage from the right, before winking out. The process is followed by a white spot from directly overhead, then a blue one from the left. As the sequence began its second cycle, it provides the outline of a diminutive, muscular form. When the house lights come up, the tiny terror of gymnastic artistry parades down the ramp and up the aisle.
JANEL MANNING
Manning, a star in the world of floor routine, pommel horse, and balance beam of even stronger repute than her former fellow Mite, Domi Daly, strides down the aisle, button nose firmly in the air. Having been removed from title power and sent packing for long months, arrogance still finds its way into her jaunt and features.
Janel’s familiar flaxen ponytail swishes from one side to the other as she makes her way down the aisle in a skin-tight pink leotard containing a leopard-spot pattern. The spandex has a single solid strap over her left shoulder, a thin trio of small pink strips across the opposite number. She sports black wrist and ankle tape and, as always, is without footwear.
The champ bounds up the steps and flings herself over the top cable without a hint of effort, dropping into a somersault before popping gracefully to her feet. The ferocious fireplug paces down the length of the ropes. Manning moves to the middle and points toward the Upstart leader.
“Didn’t think you’d seen the last of me did ya?” the Mite shouts, “I welcomed you back to FAWN and now I’m going to send you back into retirement.”
The Golden Mite turns from Sinclair to give the nearest lens a cheeky wink and heads back to her corner for a few last minute stretches of her diminutive but muscular frame.
Samantha huffed from across the way, a puffing of her cheeks that was, despite her sincerest efforts to the contrary, not exactly threatening. As much as it only proved to make her appear more adorable than dangerous, it was a sure sign of her rising dander, the only habit missing being the scrunching of her button nose. Under the circumstances, that particular mannerism probably wasn’t far behind.
“You’re not the first one to try and retire me Manning,” the brunette couldn’t quite bring herself to keep her silence, the former Lightweight Champion catching the eyes of the other young women she had taken the same Title from, “and you won’t be the last. The only thing I’ll be doing tonight is returning your welcome.”
A moment later, the bell rang, and Sammie set off straight out of her comer, looking to meet up with Manning at centre ring too officially commence their third outing in the squared circle!
However, Janel remains in her corner, playing as if she's filing her nails and stifling a yawn. She holds up a hand as Sammie huffs at her. "I'm not quite ready," Manning says. The muscular pixie does some leg stretches and knee bends then takes a step forward. But holds up a hand again. "Forgot my cardio." Janel does some jumping jacks and side stretches. When Sammie takes a step forward, the Golden Mite tut-tuts, telling the official to keep Sinclair back until she's good and ready. She begins running in place. "Never rush awesome."
Sammie blinked, caught a little flat footed and not quite believing what she was seeing. She looked to the FAWNatics and the Loyalist Legionnaires let her know, without reservation, just how they were feeling about the display. The Upstart looked to the Official and, after he proved to be of no help at all, she looked back to Janel as she began her on the spot running. After a moment longer, the Upstart shrugged, tilting her head as she made to move backwards – only to instead spring forwards and deliver the world’s smallest Superkick to an obnoxious jaw!!
@0:15
www.youtube.com/watch?v=wbdUv-vHpzw
The boot connects flush with Janel, the blonde jaw-jacked by Sammie's flashing footwear. The beaming, toothy grin is immediately removed from Manning's face, her eyes going wide and glassy as her vertically-challenged frame turns stiff as a board. With the crowd roaring, Janel proves the smaller they are, they still fall pretty hard, timbering to the deck on her side, stunned. Sinclair drops to the canvas and rolls Janel up in a tight ball, shoulders stuck to the canvas, going for perhaps the quickest win in FAWN history...
ONE!
TWO!!
THRNOO!!!
Janel spasms her way free, saving her match life and a whole lot of embarrassment.
“Sorry,” Sammie apologised as she rolled over onto her toosh and followed through all the way up onto her feet, although the sincerity seemed to be lacking behind her sheepish smirk. “Were you finished, I got bored.”
The Little Sparrow wasn’t waiting for an answer, the syllables emerging from Janel not exactly coherent to begin with, but they were certainly far too rude for Babyface ears so she opted to leave the Mite to her rumblings. At least she did so for a few seconds, the Little Sparrow shooting off for the ring ropes opposite before she threw herself into them. Snapping taunt about her featherweight frame, Sinclair was propelled back off like a missile, one that took her into a hop, skip and a jump which resulted in the emergence of the ‘Golden Wizard’, a knee aiming to finish what a boot started...
www.youtube.com/watch?v=TYrBd9PnD1I&feature=player_embedded
Manning makes her way up slowly, cursing under her breath as she shakes some of her misplaced senses back intro their proper location. The spandex-clad grappler takes a pit stop at one knee to collect those remaining scattered before she could make her way up to her full 59 inches. But Janel never gets the chance as Sammie runs in from stage left, knee lifted high and CLUNKS the bony ball into Janel's forehead. The nasty impact sends the former gymnast sprawling, ending spread-eagled, another lightning strike laying her out, Sinclair apparently wanting to end her first match back in as little time as possible. The Golden Girl slides atop the Mite in a lateral press and gets the...
ONE!
TWO!!
THRNOOO!!!
Janel this time reaches a hand out for the ropes over her head and snatches them with a curled palm a half-tick before her elimination.
“Well, shoot,” Samantha huffed; momentary disappointment painted across her features before she pushed up off Janel and got back to business. She returned to her feet quickly enough and, as much as she tried to hide it, regretted doing so almost immediately. The twinge returned, a painful tick, one that throbbed in her right knee and forced her to wince. It passed, but it was noticeable, Sammie flexing it out and raising a hand of reassurance as an echo of concern rumbled from the People for their Princess.
Sinclair shook off, collecting Manning as she did so, this time helping the Mite of Mighty Proportions back up with her, pivoting and directing her Lightweight Gold Rival for the nearest ropes by way of Irish Whip. She was ready for the return trip, dipping low to collect and deliver a fierce Spinebuster!
Manning heads off to the ropes at warp speed, Sinclair showing quite a bit of 'ooomph' considering her featherweight size. The pony-tailed blonde hits the rubber-coated cables with plenty of momentum and rebounds with even more. She races at the Brit standing in her path and hops into the air as she closes, ready to take the Upstart down with a Thesz Press.
Unfortunately for Manning, that strategy only assists Sammie in her plans. She vaults the Mite off the deck with ease, spins with Janel in her clutches and drops to her backside, BUSTING Janel's spine. Manning's body shudders in Sammie's possession, Janel laid out between the abbreviated legs of the Former Lightweight Champion.
Sammie pushes the back of Janel's knees forward to tuck her into another pin and...
ONE!
TWO!!
THRENOOO!!!
Janel uses another of her apparent nine lives to escape. Still, the crowd chants Sammie's name appreciating her blistering start, relieved to see she has not lost a step in her time away and perhaps is even better.
The Bright Eyed Wonder remained undeterred, placing her palms upon the mat; she performed a short push up, one that provided the spring board she needed to pop back up to standing. The ropes continued to be an ally, only this time she had no intention of hurling herself against them, a decision that caught more than a few by surprise as she deftly ducked between the top and middle coils.
Standing precariously on the apron, Sammie flashed a sincere smile and raised a hand to the Legionnaires watching before turning on the spot, facing back into the ring as she gripped the uppermost cable. Much like her original arrival into the squared circle, the Golden Girl leant back and, with a flexing of her athletic thighs, vaulted herself clean over the top with a beguiling sault. She had no intention of landing on her feet though, her back instead aiming to squish a mite beneath her spritely frame by way of senton!
www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=b0lRGcfksjU
Sammie flips over the cables with the greatest of ease, her back headed for Janel's rock-hard midriff. But instead, the former gymnast uses those abdominals to pull up her legs and Sinclair's spine meets Manning's knees instead.
As a wincing Sammie rolls way, her back arching in pain, Janel uses the ropes to pull her way up. She uses several seconds to regain her breath and bearings and, with Sammie on all fours, Janel stalks the People's Princess. Suddenly, she takes off for the ropes to Sammie's side and rebounds, sprinting at Sinclair and leaping into a low level dropkick aimed at Sammie's temple.
The THWAP!! was as audible to the FAWNatics as it was unwelcome, the sound of tootsies slamming into the side of the favourites head echoing with a resounding slap. Sammie’s noggin snapped sideways, the rest of the young women’s nubile frame spinning around with it, arms wind milling limply in the whiplash arc until the brunette touched down upon the canvas, spread-eagled across her back.
The Leader of the Upstart Nation was groaning, bright eyes blinking dumbly as she lay there stunned, one shapely stem bent upwards meekly at the knee all the invitation Manning needed to go for her own quick victory. Rolling Sinclair into a tight package, she waited for the three count.
ONE!
TWO!!
Samantha kicked out, as equally unwilling to throw in the towel as her resurgent rival.
Feeling a second wind behind her sails, Janel kips to her feet, giving the referee the evil eye about his slow count. Silently, she turns back to Sinclair and sinks a set of fingers into her foe's dark locks. "Nice try, wimp," she growls. The Golden Mite hauls Sammie to her feet and sends her flinging to the far ropes with an Irish Whip. As the Brit heads for her cables, Janel backpedals into her own and rebounds toward a head-on collision. Manning leaps toward a crossbody block as she closes the gap with Sammie, hoping to knock the People's Doofus right off her feet.
As diminutive in stature as Manning was, Sammie was just as vertically challenged and, with momentum behind her, Janel made for a pretty handy, self propelled cannon ball. One that was more than enough to upend Sinclair right off her feet, the athletic stems of the Tiny Titan jack knifing up off the canvas and soon following her upper body downwards.
With an ‘OMPFH!!” the brunette found herself squished between blonde and plywood, her legs following through, rapidly folding her body up into a handy ball for Manning to take advantage of. Yet another pin was in the offering as Janel collected a pair of willing legs... only for the former Olympian to “SQUEEK!” out in surprise, the tumbling of their two bodies still going as Sammie carried on through, the two young women rolling until the winded brunette had the startled blondes shoulders pinned to the mat instead!!
ONE!
TWO!!
Manning kicked out, furious at the cheekiness of the reversal!!
Janel scrambles to her feet, wide eyes looking at the official. She sighs in relief when she sees two fingers raised.
With Sammie still on the mat behind her, Sinclair reaches for Manning's short but muscular stems and pulls her over into another balled cradle. Janel's legs pump and twist through another...
ONE!
TWO!!
...and finally she breaks free.
Face red, more with anger than embarrassment this time, the former gymnast pushes to her feet, this time only a half-tick ahead of Sinclair. She surges with right arm drawn, hoping to remove head from shoulders but the Brit ducks under the effort, Janel coming up dry.
Both turn toward each other and Janel launches a flash kick, her bare foot zooming toward Sammie's chin to remove her cheekiness.
@ 00:06:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=wbuhHfTO1Ck
The English Export of Perfectly Petite Proportions felt the kick long before she saw it, the CRACK!! audible to those several rows back as the strike struck true. With pretty peepers fluttering, the suddenly flummoxed Sinclair rocked unsteadily between the heel and toes before she began teetering. Seemingly opposed to simply collapsing, the knees of the brunette instead buckled her into a stumble, one that drove her into an uncomfortable collision with a nearby corner, her pert, petite bosom driven painfully into the turnbuckle as her arms flopped over the top ropes.
Janel follows after the People's Pouter. Grabbing a handful of Sammie's hair, she draws the brunette's head back and SLAMS it into the top buckle. The perfect pearlies of Manning flash. "Your face could use a makeover, Sinclair." And Manning repeats the process not two, not three, but a full ten times.
The crowd can't help themselves from counting along for the last few.
With Sammie dazed, Janel throws her out of the corner, Sinclair dropping to a wide-eyed spread eagle on the canvas. Immediately, Manning headed for the heights, scaling the corner and turning to face her foe. Standing high above Sammie, Janel leaps HIGHER over the splayed Brit, back flipping into a dramatic flight with a pointed elbow drawn for Sammie's chest waiting at the end.
@:30
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hb5edjH0TXM
Just over one year previous, Sinclair took the Lightweight Title from Manning in the world’s first, Sky High Match, a contest that rewarded, above all else, death defying, aerial agility from the squared circles highest pedestal. Had Janel launched herself into the stratosphere on that night as she did so now, tucking into a sublime backflip that followed through with a missile precise elbow, perhaps she would have remained the Champion. Tonight she would reap no such rewards, and yet the impact that resulted was perhaps no less satisfying as she found her target and all but STAKED her rival, the Upstart Sinclair, with a weaponised joint through one of the biggest hearts in wrestling.
With her entire, spritely frame Sammie recoiled, exhaling sharply as the vindictive, high velocity strike NAILED her to the mat and forced her to wheeze. With a wild spasm, the petite brunette was rocked over onto her side, pretty peepers wide eyed as she struggled to remain breathing.
Janel was having none of it, not as she grabbed a slender shoulder and forced Sinclair over onto her back, another tight ball following as Manning aimed to put things to bed.
ONE!
TWO!!
THRE...NOOOO!!
Samantha kicked out, proving why she had been the Lightweight Champion herself for so long.
A look of amazement sets itself on Manning's features. "You have to be kidding," she growls at the official. "Have to be." The man assures the Iowan she is not and that convinces the pony-tailed blonde to get back to her feet.
Manning hauls the rubbery Sammie to her feet and slaps the taste out of her mouth, spinning Sinclair in whiplash-like fashion away from Janel. "If you won't stay down, maybe you'll say 'I quit.'" Manning reaches for Sammie's wrists from behind to cross the Brit's arms in front of her in a straightjacket and leap into a lungblower that, if she hit it, would transition to a little somersault and into a straightjacket camel clutch, the Perfect Ten of a finisher for the night.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=vudL_Iwg35I
Twice before Samantha had been on the wrong end of this collision, most recently at this year’s FAWNMANIA as Manning revealed her traitorous stripes, and twice before it had resulted in the Little Sparrow being left knocked out. Three times, as it was said, proved to be the charm... only not for Janel as, just as the choke was locked in place, Sammie surged and, with a sharp, determined, perhaps desperate tug of both her trapped limbs, she slipped her wrists free from her rivals grip and stumbled forwards.
With her cargo suddenly dislodged, Manning ‘yeeped’ as she surged downwards to the mat all on her lonesome, the impact of her back against the canvas more embarrassing than it was painful. Heaping humiliation on Manning, however, was just as likely to spark a retaliation from the Olympian as striking, so she was back up to sitting in no time flat... only to witness Sinclair coming right at her with the sole of her boot upraised...
And Sammie's blue boot CRUNCHES into Janel's chin before she can twist out of the way. The impact sends Manning rocketing backward, the back of her noggin THUMPING into the deck in resounding fashion. Janel grunts and cradles her aching head in her arms, cursing as she mewls, her bare feet pattering against the canvas, the 59 inches of tanned muscle laid low by a Little Sparrow and her unwillingness to stop flying toward a win.
The People’s Princess embraced the sudden resurgence of the crowd as she stepped through the kick as though the big boot was a natural part of running, the pixie lass with bouncing curls skipping into a sprint towards the ropes. With cherub cheeks rosy, the Babyface displayed the resilience apparently only inherent of wrestlers as she zeroed in on the ropes, the arena rocking at the sudden reversal of fortunes as she hopped at the last moment. With a bounce the soles of her footwear landed on the bottom coil and her paws gripped the top, the tension of the stretched ropes snapping taunt and spring boarding her spritely frame high into the air, the young women dived backwards into a Lionsault Splash!
With Janel working through the pain in her head and jaw, the blonde moving her mandible from side to side in a test to see if Sinclair had displaced it, Manning doesn't notice the acrobatic Englishwoman hit the cables. Sammie gracefully back flips off the ropes, using them as a springboard, and comes CRASHING down tummy to tummy across Janel's washboard abs. Though Sinclair didn't have the chisel out for her belly, the momentum and force she has behind her midsection conquers Janel's midriff. The blonde 'GUHHS' loudly on impact, her breath forced from between her lips. Janel jack knifes around the Brit before melting back to the canvas, readymade for a pin, which Sammie collects for the...
ONE!
TWO!!
THR...KICKOUT!!
Manning flops to her side, moaning.
Sammie, finding herself dislodged by the miniature hardbody, tucks over onto her back less than a metre away from her long term rival. She was looking flustered, her petite bosom rising and falling sharply as the adrenaline that had fuelled her retaliation seemed to flee her spritely frame, freckles bright and peepers fluttering. That is until she tucked herself up into a tight ball and, much to the delight of the Legionnaires who were forever Loyal, she SNAPPED her way back up to standing with a delightful flourish by way of FAWN’s Favourite Kip Up!
As a winded Janel was forced to take her time getting back up onto one knee, Sammie was able to surge about the ring in a short half circle, one that she accompanied with a rapid, three beat clap that whipped up the FAWNATICS even more. After striking her palms together for the third time, she brought her squared circled sprint right back to Manning, hopping and using the blondes own knees as a stepping stone. Just as it looked as though she was about to unleash another of her patented ‘Golden Wizards’, the Former Lightweight Champion instead popped her mighty, miniature mass to sitting across her opponents powerful shoulders, ready to whip herself backwards into a jaw dropping Rana.
@0:05
www.youtube.com/watch?v=TYrBd9PnD1I&feature=player_embedded
Sinclair shows some of her gymnastic prowess as she vaults off Janel's knee and slides around behind the blonde, Sammie's legs finding an open spot on Manning's shoulders. Reflexively, Janel rises to her feet to likely electric chair drop the Mite wannabe. But before the Golden Mite can do so, the Golden Girl throws her bodyweight backward. And while Sammie flips to her belly, the back of Janel's head is DRIVEN into the deck with terrific force.
The crowd groans in sympathy for a moment before cheering on their favourite. For her part, Janel is on her knees for a split-second, there from the momentum after the collision with the canvas, but quickly face plants into the canvas, ending unmoving save for a spastic twitch, Sammie having seemingly placed Janel on Dream Street.
Given the rapid frequency of the contests attempts at pinning, the FAWNatics could be forgiven for believing that Sammie was about to do so again as she tucks her palms beneath and then flips the dead eyed Manning over onto her back. After a moment of consideration however, button nose a twitching in thought, the Bright Eyed Wonder clearly has other ideas as she sweeps her fringe away from her pretty peepers and instead locks her sights on the nearest corner.
Happy with where Janel was splayed spread eagled, Sinclair was on her feet and at the turnbuckles after a few short, light footed skips, climbing them with a skill that could only be attributed to natural affinity. Scaling the heights, Sammie looked out into the crowd and smiled brightly, bringing her hands together above her head and clapping the Upstarts three beat mantra, the Loyalist Legionnaires following suit in force.
Padding her feet slightly, despite the precarious nature of where she was standing, Sammie inhaled a second deep breath and, without another moment’s hesitation, if only to deny the nervous fluttering inside her trim tummy, Sinclair took flight!! The FAWNATICS roared, again witnessing the double moonsault experience that was Sinclair Summer Slam!!
@1:25
www.youtube.com/watch?v=HoxyK344sfs&index=1&t=86s&list=PLPuOyWan3CRt9D5q0QV7jOahlDdpDwYcY
Sammie flips through the air with the greatest of ease not once but TWICE and it might be the time it takes for the extra spin that gives Janel the time to pull her knees up into a ball and GUT the belly of the Brit. Sinclair hits with awful force, Manning using the power of the Summer Slam against its purveyor. A gagging, groaning Golden Girl rolls away from the mistake, hugging her ivory midriff.
Meanwhile Manning stretches back out but is slow to take advantage, the result of Sammie's earlier battering.
It's a race to see who can reach her feet more quickly and Manning barely wins it. But as Janel approaches Sammie, Sinclair manages to pluck the former gymnast off the deck. Still, when she does, Janel uses her momentum to swing around the startled Sparrow. Manning hoping to end strapped to Sammie's back, scissoring the Brit's head and stretching out her far arm in a signature tilt-a-whirl octopus.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=o1AAFsLqXZU
With a pair of muscled thighs clamping a duo of painfully powerful stems about her noggin, and the upper half of the mightiest mite painfully wrenching back a shoulder, Sammie soon came to realise that Janel was no easy burden for a flyweight to bear. She almost immediately dropped down to her knees, athletic legs shimmying as she gurgled out a surprised cry, her gutted tummy, trim and taunt, shivering beneath the strain. Force of will alone kept her upright, a sheer stubbornness that was her birthright, but even ‘Sinclair Pride’ could only get a girl so far.
She began to fall, pretty peepers fluttering as she found herself starved of oxygen, and it was only with a drunken sway that Sammie instead tumbled towards the nearest ropes and not the unyielding canvas, a place from which the Leader of the Upstart Nation would surely slip unconscious without the safety of the coils to save her.
The stubborn Sinclair does what she needs to make sure the octopus doesn't claim her. The feisty little brunette wraps a palm around the bottom cable when she falls to all fours and the official calls for a break almost immediately.
Janel pretends not to hear, but when the count starts, she uncoils from around her foe with a disappointed scrunch of her nose. Manning takes a few steps back and lets Sinclair up to her knees before deciding she's had enough time. Stepping back in, she puts a boot to Sammie's tummy then grabs a handful of dark locks, leading Sammie toward the middle like her heeled doggie. Reaching the centre, Janel drags the Brit to her feet and quickly pulls an arm of Sammie's between her legs to establish a pump handle, the much better to vault the Little Sparrow off the deck, flip her in the air and splatter her to the canvas with her Mite-y Gold Driver!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=FH-un3DvQT8
The Tiny Titan had made more than one daring reversal whilst being vaulted skyward, but as Janel showed off the power she possessed over her fellow Lightweights, her handling of the flagging Sinclair proved to be escape proof. With her tummy compromised and freckled cheeks rosy, the wilting Sammie was little more than an unwilling passenger as she was hupped up off the canvas, spun like Manning’s plaything and then sent THUDDING back down against the mat across her shoulders. The petite brunette groaned a short, sharp and pained grunt as her whole frame bucked from the lung emptying impact, flopping out into a limp limbed starfish, her small bosom rising with shallow breadths.
Janel sits next to the splayed Sammie looking very pleased with herself. Still, she doesn't go for the pin. Instead, she shoves a bare foot into Sammie's ribs, stirring the dark-haired Sparrow. Janel mockingly kips to her feet with a flourish, drawing steam from the ears of some of Sammie's followers.
Meanwhile Sinclair struggles to her feet, drunkenly. The unsteady People's Princess makes her feet, with Janel stalking her from behind. Knowing very well what Manning has in mind, the crowd squeals at the Upstart to warn her just as Janel reaches over Sammie's shoulders for her wrists to capture the Brit's arms in a straightjacket across Sinclair's throat, then hit the lungblower/clutch combo that would put a Perfect Ten of an ending on this victory.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=vudL_Iwg35I
With her bright eyes half fluttered, there was little hope for Sinclair to slip free of the Manning signature for a second time in the same contest, the posture of the English Export of Perfectly Petite Proportions almost submissive as her own arms were lassoed about her throat and she was dragged backwards. Indeed, earthwards was the only place that she was heading and, as she folded sharply backwards, it was with sickening force that a pair of knees impaled her from behind, stabbing sharply into both of her lungs and forcibly ejecting every single inch of air from her small body.
With her wrists released, Sammie popped away from the agonising impact until she was kneeling, teetering there on the spot before a breathless moan slipped out from her lips and she flopped forwards, one freckled cheek smacking down against the plywood before she shuddered still, Manning seemingly set on delivering on her FAWNMANIA promise.
Having lost her grip on the maneuver it wouldn't be a ‘perfect’ Perfect Ten for Janel, but as she scrambles to the downed Sinclair, she would make sure it would still be the end for the petulant little Upstart. All 59 inches of the muscular, former gymnast settles atop Sammie in a crouching forward straddle atop her foe's back. She reacquires the strangling straightjacket grip, using Sammie's arms as reins. The brutal Mite YANKS back as much as her straining biceps will allow, curving the spine of the already aching Sammie into a torturous Camel Clutch variant, bringing Sinclair out of her stupor with a mewling chirp.
Janel whispers in the Brit's ear, "Better give up Sinclair, or your return is going to be a VERY short one."
For the second time in her career, Manning had Samantha exactly where she wanted her, wrenched backwards as a woeful angle in the centre of the ring. The People’s Princess had faced defeat in her first PPV appearance to this self same manoeuvre at the hands of the self same Rival, and as her spine was being popped and arched at a near impossible angle, it seemed as if Janel was determined that this was to be the beloved brunettes last.
Sammie didn’t answer, she couldn’t, her pretty peepers opened only slightly, only the smallest moans and pained mewls escaping from her parted lips. The entirety of her petite frame shivered, from her button nose to the tippets of her toes, tortured to the limits of her endurance. She should quit, part of her knew it, but still she refused to do so, even as the clouds closed in and bright eyes fluttered shut. Sinclair was soon uttering nothing, not a single syllable, the young women slipping unconscious, one returning, Former Lightweight Champion rendered that way by another.
The ref quickly approaches Sammie, tapping a cheek. "Ask her," Janel demands, wanting to hear the words 'I quit' from Sinclair. The man does pose a question, but he asks Sammie if she's still there instead if she wants to give in. There is no response.
"Sammie. Sammie. Can you hear me?" The shuttered lids, droopy chin and otherwise lifeless frame convinces him another check is unnecessary and the man calls for the bell.
A furious Janel rattles Sammie from side to side wanting her to submit, but it's too late and Sammie's stubbornness has denied the winner that at least. Manning releases her straightjacket grip, rises, placing a bare foot behind Sammie's noggin, and CURBSTOMPS her face into the deck as punishment for not giving the Mite what she wants.
Rising, Janel slips a foot under Sammie's left shoulder and flops the demolished Sparrow to her back. Once there, Janel places a conquering foot atop Sinclair's trunks as she raises her arms high and wide, grinding in a heel that, if it didn't wake Sinclair would at least provider her an unpleasant reminder.
"Welcome back, loser."
The Loyalist Legionnaires had arrived in force, the cross section of supporters who were forever faithful to one faction above the others accounting for a significant percentage of the masses watching, and they were now barely able to contain their eager anticipation. Just as the tension threatened to become palpable, the speakers spoke once more, the opening guitar riff they all knew so well swelling hearts the crowd over.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=6gj_V_gKI4Q&list=PLPuOyWan3CRuPoCuzoiHkAq0VNWg308E4&index=4
The Leader of the Upstart Nation burst out into sight with a bright smile and her freckles blushing a naturally bashful crimson, her hands raised up high as the People were extremely vocal in welcoming their Princess into the stadium, wrestling royalty returning after far too long on the sidelines due to injury. She smiled all the more, the young woman’s embarrassment at the adulation only increasing, the Tiny Titan of a sprite owning the stage as she stood at its centre, shaking her hips in rhythm with her music as her heart beat a mile a minute.
SAMANTHA SINCLAIR
She was, as always when about to march upon the squared circle, attired in gold and sapphire, the colours of her infamous wrestling family, bright beneath the floodlights as the whisper thin fabric that she wore caught and hugged her pleasingly modest curves in all the right places. Samantha twirled there on the spot, hands still held up high in greeting, the FAWNatics enjoying a full view of the Pixie battler, her athletic frame wrapped in a bright yellow two piece, sports bra and boy cut shorts following her every contour.
The Bright Eyed Wonder popped up onto her tiptoes as she suddenly cheered back, stretching out her petite frame to its tallest inch, showing off the softly sculptured lines of her bare tummy, before she rocked back down onto the soles of her knee high, blue boots. She kept her hands raised up, smirking in impish fasion as she wiggled her fingers, the Loyalist Legionnaires knowing full well what was to be expected of them. Satisfied that they were ready, she began clapping, loud and proud as the crowd joined in with her, the entire arena making a deafening statement of intent.
ONCE!
TWICE!!
THRICE!!!
Immediately following the final clap she pointed dramatically towards the ring and, on cue, pyrokenetics exploded to either side of the stage beside her, the BOOM!! whipping the crowd into a renewed frenzy and, much to her embarrassment, causing Sinclair herself to bounce in fright.
She hopped with a loud giggle, skipping into a sprint that took her rapidly towards the squared circle. She slapped as many hands as possible, picking out her most sincere fans as if she possessed a radar, darting from one side of the aisle to the other, pausing only to deliver a warm hug.
The number of Legionnaires seemed to have grown even further in recent months, their ranks swelled by those who once made up a certain Corps, one abandoned by their Babyfaced idol and reeling from rejection. The Upstarts made for the perfect tonic to see off the pain of disillusionment, Samantha Sinclair and her cherub cheeked girls raising the banner higher when others had fallen short.
The Little Sparrow reached the squared circle as quickly as she could whilst acknowledging her Factions Faithful Followers, arriving in no time flat and, without pausing for a single step, made a show of effortlessly bunny hopping up onto apron with a spritely hop. She was immediately thankful to not feel the dreaded twinge of her right knee, daring to begin hoping that perhaps she had finally left the lingering injury behind her.
Leaning backwards for just a moment, her paws grasping the top coil tightly, the People’s Princess threw her delightfully athletic frame of Perfectly Petite Proportions into a flawless forward flip, clearing the uppermost rope and the soles of her blue boots landing lightly upon the canvas with a gleeful bounce and an accompanying “WHOOP!!” from the crowd watching.
Samantha skipped and smiled anew, embracing the fresh wave of applause as an equally fresh wave of nerves fluttered within her tummy. She was back, no false starts tonight, she was back and nothing was going to stop her. The Most Prolific of the Sinclairs opened her bright eyes of baby brown and exhaled deeply, this was it.
Time to settle a score from FAWNMANIA!!
With one prodigal daughter back in the house, the sound of The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus’ ‘You Better Pray’ rocks the arena and the FAWNatics turn to the upper stage as one. The assembled release their disdain even before the once upon a time leader of the Mighty Mites and champion of the sub-125 set makes her appearance. The PA’s pronouncement only draws the decibels higher.
“And her opponent…she hails from Iowa City, Iowa… Standing 4 feet 11 inches tall and weighing 117 pounds… The Golden Mite herself…JANEL MANNING!”
With the introduction complete, it’s time for Manning to emerge onto the stage, apparently without the Icy Mite, Jenny Lewis, the FAWNatics thanking themselves for small favours. But before the Mite-y One comes into view, the arena falls into darkness, a red spotlight illuminates the stage from the right, before winking out. The process is followed by a white spot from directly overhead, then a blue one from the left. As the sequence began its second cycle, it provides the outline of a diminutive, muscular form. When the house lights come up, the tiny terror of gymnastic artistry parades down the ramp and up the aisle.
JANEL MANNING
Manning, a star in the world of floor routine, pommel horse, and balance beam of even stronger repute than her former fellow Mite, Domi Daly, strides down the aisle, button nose firmly in the air. Having been removed from title power and sent packing for long months, arrogance still finds its way into her jaunt and features.
Janel’s familiar flaxen ponytail swishes from one side to the other as she makes her way down the aisle in a skin-tight pink leotard containing a leopard-spot pattern. The spandex has a single solid strap over her left shoulder, a thin trio of small pink strips across the opposite number. She sports black wrist and ankle tape and, as always, is without footwear.
The champ bounds up the steps and flings herself over the top cable without a hint of effort, dropping into a somersault before popping gracefully to her feet. The ferocious fireplug paces down the length of the ropes. Manning moves to the middle and points toward the Upstart leader.
“Didn’t think you’d seen the last of me did ya?” the Mite shouts, “I welcomed you back to FAWN and now I’m going to send you back into retirement.”
The Golden Mite turns from Sinclair to give the nearest lens a cheeky wink and heads back to her corner for a few last minute stretches of her diminutive but muscular frame.
Samantha huffed from across the way, a puffing of her cheeks that was, despite her sincerest efforts to the contrary, not exactly threatening. As much as it only proved to make her appear more adorable than dangerous, it was a sure sign of her rising dander, the only habit missing being the scrunching of her button nose. Under the circumstances, that particular mannerism probably wasn’t far behind.
“You’re not the first one to try and retire me Manning,” the brunette couldn’t quite bring herself to keep her silence, the former Lightweight Champion catching the eyes of the other young women she had taken the same Title from, “and you won’t be the last. The only thing I’ll be doing tonight is returning your welcome.”
A moment later, the bell rang, and Sammie set off straight out of her comer, looking to meet up with Manning at centre ring too officially commence their third outing in the squared circle!
However, Janel remains in her corner, playing as if she's filing her nails and stifling a yawn. She holds up a hand as Sammie huffs at her. "I'm not quite ready," Manning says. The muscular pixie does some leg stretches and knee bends then takes a step forward. But holds up a hand again. "Forgot my cardio." Janel does some jumping jacks and side stretches. When Sammie takes a step forward, the Golden Mite tut-tuts, telling the official to keep Sinclair back until she's good and ready. She begins running in place. "Never rush awesome."
Sammie blinked, caught a little flat footed and not quite believing what she was seeing. She looked to the FAWNatics and the Loyalist Legionnaires let her know, without reservation, just how they were feeling about the display. The Upstart looked to the Official and, after he proved to be of no help at all, she looked back to Janel as she began her on the spot running. After a moment longer, the Upstart shrugged, tilting her head as she made to move backwards – only to instead spring forwards and deliver the world’s smallest Superkick to an obnoxious jaw!!
@0:15
www.youtube.com/watch?v=wbdUv-vHpzw
The boot connects flush with Janel, the blonde jaw-jacked by Sammie's flashing footwear. The beaming, toothy grin is immediately removed from Manning's face, her eyes going wide and glassy as her vertically-challenged frame turns stiff as a board. With the crowd roaring, Janel proves the smaller they are, they still fall pretty hard, timbering to the deck on her side, stunned. Sinclair drops to the canvas and rolls Janel up in a tight ball, shoulders stuck to the canvas, going for perhaps the quickest win in FAWN history...
ONE!
TWO!!
THRNOO!!!
Janel spasms her way free, saving her match life and a whole lot of embarrassment.
“Sorry,” Sammie apologised as she rolled over onto her toosh and followed through all the way up onto her feet, although the sincerity seemed to be lacking behind her sheepish smirk. “Were you finished, I got bored.”
The Little Sparrow wasn’t waiting for an answer, the syllables emerging from Janel not exactly coherent to begin with, but they were certainly far too rude for Babyface ears so she opted to leave the Mite to her rumblings. At least she did so for a few seconds, the Little Sparrow shooting off for the ring ropes opposite before she threw herself into them. Snapping taunt about her featherweight frame, Sinclair was propelled back off like a missile, one that took her into a hop, skip and a jump which resulted in the emergence of the ‘Golden Wizard’, a knee aiming to finish what a boot started...
www.youtube.com/watch?v=TYrBd9PnD1I&feature=player_embedded
Manning makes her way up slowly, cursing under her breath as she shakes some of her misplaced senses back intro their proper location. The spandex-clad grappler takes a pit stop at one knee to collect those remaining scattered before she could make her way up to her full 59 inches. But Janel never gets the chance as Sammie runs in from stage left, knee lifted high and CLUNKS the bony ball into Janel's forehead. The nasty impact sends the former gymnast sprawling, ending spread-eagled, another lightning strike laying her out, Sinclair apparently wanting to end her first match back in as little time as possible. The Golden Girl slides atop the Mite in a lateral press and gets the...
ONE!
TWO!!
THRNOOO!!!
Janel this time reaches a hand out for the ropes over her head and snatches them with a curled palm a half-tick before her elimination.
“Well, shoot,” Samantha huffed; momentary disappointment painted across her features before she pushed up off Janel and got back to business. She returned to her feet quickly enough and, as much as she tried to hide it, regretted doing so almost immediately. The twinge returned, a painful tick, one that throbbed in her right knee and forced her to wince. It passed, but it was noticeable, Sammie flexing it out and raising a hand of reassurance as an echo of concern rumbled from the People for their Princess.
Sinclair shook off, collecting Manning as she did so, this time helping the Mite of Mighty Proportions back up with her, pivoting and directing her Lightweight Gold Rival for the nearest ropes by way of Irish Whip. She was ready for the return trip, dipping low to collect and deliver a fierce Spinebuster!
Manning heads off to the ropes at warp speed, Sinclair showing quite a bit of 'ooomph' considering her featherweight size. The pony-tailed blonde hits the rubber-coated cables with plenty of momentum and rebounds with even more. She races at the Brit standing in her path and hops into the air as she closes, ready to take the Upstart down with a Thesz Press.
Unfortunately for Manning, that strategy only assists Sammie in her plans. She vaults the Mite off the deck with ease, spins with Janel in her clutches and drops to her backside, BUSTING Janel's spine. Manning's body shudders in Sammie's possession, Janel laid out between the abbreviated legs of the Former Lightweight Champion.
Sammie pushes the back of Janel's knees forward to tuck her into another pin and...
ONE!
TWO!!
THRENOOO!!!
Janel uses another of her apparent nine lives to escape. Still, the crowd chants Sammie's name appreciating her blistering start, relieved to see she has not lost a step in her time away and perhaps is even better.
The Bright Eyed Wonder remained undeterred, placing her palms upon the mat; she performed a short push up, one that provided the spring board she needed to pop back up to standing. The ropes continued to be an ally, only this time she had no intention of hurling herself against them, a decision that caught more than a few by surprise as she deftly ducked between the top and middle coils.
Standing precariously on the apron, Sammie flashed a sincere smile and raised a hand to the Legionnaires watching before turning on the spot, facing back into the ring as she gripped the uppermost cable. Much like her original arrival into the squared circle, the Golden Girl leant back and, with a flexing of her athletic thighs, vaulted herself clean over the top with a beguiling sault. She had no intention of landing on her feet though, her back instead aiming to squish a mite beneath her spritely frame by way of senton!
www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=b0lRGcfksjU
Sammie flips over the cables with the greatest of ease, her back headed for Janel's rock-hard midriff. But instead, the former gymnast uses those abdominals to pull up her legs and Sinclair's spine meets Manning's knees instead.
As a wincing Sammie rolls way, her back arching in pain, Janel uses the ropes to pull her way up. She uses several seconds to regain her breath and bearings and, with Sammie on all fours, Janel stalks the People's Princess. Suddenly, she takes off for the ropes to Sammie's side and rebounds, sprinting at Sinclair and leaping into a low level dropkick aimed at Sammie's temple.
The THWAP!! was as audible to the FAWNatics as it was unwelcome, the sound of tootsies slamming into the side of the favourites head echoing with a resounding slap. Sammie’s noggin snapped sideways, the rest of the young women’s nubile frame spinning around with it, arms wind milling limply in the whiplash arc until the brunette touched down upon the canvas, spread-eagled across her back.
The Leader of the Upstart Nation was groaning, bright eyes blinking dumbly as she lay there stunned, one shapely stem bent upwards meekly at the knee all the invitation Manning needed to go for her own quick victory. Rolling Sinclair into a tight package, she waited for the three count.
ONE!
TWO!!
Samantha kicked out, as equally unwilling to throw in the towel as her resurgent rival.
Feeling a second wind behind her sails, Janel kips to her feet, giving the referee the evil eye about his slow count. Silently, she turns back to Sinclair and sinks a set of fingers into her foe's dark locks. "Nice try, wimp," she growls. The Golden Mite hauls Sammie to her feet and sends her flinging to the far ropes with an Irish Whip. As the Brit heads for her cables, Janel backpedals into her own and rebounds toward a head-on collision. Manning leaps toward a crossbody block as she closes the gap with Sammie, hoping to knock the People's Doofus right off her feet.
As diminutive in stature as Manning was, Sammie was just as vertically challenged and, with momentum behind her, Janel made for a pretty handy, self propelled cannon ball. One that was more than enough to upend Sinclair right off her feet, the athletic stems of the Tiny Titan jack knifing up off the canvas and soon following her upper body downwards.
With an ‘OMPFH!!” the brunette found herself squished between blonde and plywood, her legs following through, rapidly folding her body up into a handy ball for Manning to take advantage of. Yet another pin was in the offering as Janel collected a pair of willing legs... only for the former Olympian to “SQUEEK!” out in surprise, the tumbling of their two bodies still going as Sammie carried on through, the two young women rolling until the winded brunette had the startled blondes shoulders pinned to the mat instead!!
ONE!
TWO!!
Manning kicked out, furious at the cheekiness of the reversal!!
Janel scrambles to her feet, wide eyes looking at the official. She sighs in relief when she sees two fingers raised.
With Sammie still on the mat behind her, Sinclair reaches for Manning's short but muscular stems and pulls her over into another balled cradle. Janel's legs pump and twist through another...
ONE!
TWO!!
...and finally she breaks free.
Face red, more with anger than embarrassment this time, the former gymnast pushes to her feet, this time only a half-tick ahead of Sinclair. She surges with right arm drawn, hoping to remove head from shoulders but the Brit ducks under the effort, Janel coming up dry.
Both turn toward each other and Janel launches a flash kick, her bare foot zooming toward Sammie's chin to remove her cheekiness.
@ 00:06:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=wbuhHfTO1Ck
The English Export of Perfectly Petite Proportions felt the kick long before she saw it, the CRACK!! audible to those several rows back as the strike struck true. With pretty peepers fluttering, the suddenly flummoxed Sinclair rocked unsteadily between the heel and toes before she began teetering. Seemingly opposed to simply collapsing, the knees of the brunette instead buckled her into a stumble, one that drove her into an uncomfortable collision with a nearby corner, her pert, petite bosom driven painfully into the turnbuckle as her arms flopped over the top ropes.
Janel follows after the People's Pouter. Grabbing a handful of Sammie's hair, she draws the brunette's head back and SLAMS it into the top buckle. The perfect pearlies of Manning flash. "Your face could use a makeover, Sinclair." And Manning repeats the process not two, not three, but a full ten times.
The crowd can't help themselves from counting along for the last few.
With Sammie dazed, Janel throws her out of the corner, Sinclair dropping to a wide-eyed spread eagle on the canvas. Immediately, Manning headed for the heights, scaling the corner and turning to face her foe. Standing high above Sammie, Janel leaps HIGHER over the splayed Brit, back flipping into a dramatic flight with a pointed elbow drawn for Sammie's chest waiting at the end.
@:30
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hb5edjH0TXM
Just over one year previous, Sinclair took the Lightweight Title from Manning in the world’s first, Sky High Match, a contest that rewarded, above all else, death defying, aerial agility from the squared circles highest pedestal. Had Janel launched herself into the stratosphere on that night as she did so now, tucking into a sublime backflip that followed through with a missile precise elbow, perhaps she would have remained the Champion. Tonight she would reap no such rewards, and yet the impact that resulted was perhaps no less satisfying as she found her target and all but STAKED her rival, the Upstart Sinclair, with a weaponised joint through one of the biggest hearts in wrestling.
With her entire, spritely frame Sammie recoiled, exhaling sharply as the vindictive, high velocity strike NAILED her to the mat and forced her to wheeze. With a wild spasm, the petite brunette was rocked over onto her side, pretty peepers wide eyed as she struggled to remain breathing.
Janel was having none of it, not as she grabbed a slender shoulder and forced Sinclair over onto her back, another tight ball following as Manning aimed to put things to bed.
ONE!
TWO!!
THRE...NOOOO!!
Samantha kicked out, proving why she had been the Lightweight Champion herself for so long.
A look of amazement sets itself on Manning's features. "You have to be kidding," she growls at the official. "Have to be." The man assures the Iowan she is not and that convinces the pony-tailed blonde to get back to her feet.
Manning hauls the rubbery Sammie to her feet and slaps the taste out of her mouth, spinning Sinclair in whiplash-like fashion away from Janel. "If you won't stay down, maybe you'll say 'I quit.'" Manning reaches for Sammie's wrists from behind to cross the Brit's arms in front of her in a straightjacket and leap into a lungblower that, if she hit it, would transition to a little somersault and into a straightjacket camel clutch, the Perfect Ten of a finisher for the night.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=vudL_Iwg35I
Twice before Samantha had been on the wrong end of this collision, most recently at this year’s FAWNMANIA as Manning revealed her traitorous stripes, and twice before it had resulted in the Little Sparrow being left knocked out. Three times, as it was said, proved to be the charm... only not for Janel as, just as the choke was locked in place, Sammie surged and, with a sharp, determined, perhaps desperate tug of both her trapped limbs, she slipped her wrists free from her rivals grip and stumbled forwards.
With her cargo suddenly dislodged, Manning ‘yeeped’ as she surged downwards to the mat all on her lonesome, the impact of her back against the canvas more embarrassing than it was painful. Heaping humiliation on Manning, however, was just as likely to spark a retaliation from the Olympian as striking, so she was back up to sitting in no time flat... only to witness Sinclair coming right at her with the sole of her boot upraised...
And Sammie's blue boot CRUNCHES into Janel's chin before she can twist out of the way. The impact sends Manning rocketing backward, the back of her noggin THUMPING into the deck in resounding fashion. Janel grunts and cradles her aching head in her arms, cursing as she mewls, her bare feet pattering against the canvas, the 59 inches of tanned muscle laid low by a Little Sparrow and her unwillingness to stop flying toward a win.
The People’s Princess embraced the sudden resurgence of the crowd as she stepped through the kick as though the big boot was a natural part of running, the pixie lass with bouncing curls skipping into a sprint towards the ropes. With cherub cheeks rosy, the Babyface displayed the resilience apparently only inherent of wrestlers as she zeroed in on the ropes, the arena rocking at the sudden reversal of fortunes as she hopped at the last moment. With a bounce the soles of her footwear landed on the bottom coil and her paws gripped the top, the tension of the stretched ropes snapping taunt and spring boarding her spritely frame high into the air, the young women dived backwards into a Lionsault Splash!
With Janel working through the pain in her head and jaw, the blonde moving her mandible from side to side in a test to see if Sinclair had displaced it, Manning doesn't notice the acrobatic Englishwoman hit the cables. Sammie gracefully back flips off the ropes, using them as a springboard, and comes CRASHING down tummy to tummy across Janel's washboard abs. Though Sinclair didn't have the chisel out for her belly, the momentum and force she has behind her midsection conquers Janel's midriff. The blonde 'GUHHS' loudly on impact, her breath forced from between her lips. Janel jack knifes around the Brit before melting back to the canvas, readymade for a pin, which Sammie collects for the...
ONE!
TWO!!
THR...KICKOUT!!
Manning flops to her side, moaning.
Sammie, finding herself dislodged by the miniature hardbody, tucks over onto her back less than a metre away from her long term rival. She was looking flustered, her petite bosom rising and falling sharply as the adrenaline that had fuelled her retaliation seemed to flee her spritely frame, freckles bright and peepers fluttering. That is until she tucked herself up into a tight ball and, much to the delight of the Legionnaires who were forever Loyal, she SNAPPED her way back up to standing with a delightful flourish by way of FAWN’s Favourite Kip Up!
As a winded Janel was forced to take her time getting back up onto one knee, Sammie was able to surge about the ring in a short half circle, one that she accompanied with a rapid, three beat clap that whipped up the FAWNATICS even more. After striking her palms together for the third time, she brought her squared circled sprint right back to Manning, hopping and using the blondes own knees as a stepping stone. Just as it looked as though she was about to unleash another of her patented ‘Golden Wizards’, the Former Lightweight Champion instead popped her mighty, miniature mass to sitting across her opponents powerful shoulders, ready to whip herself backwards into a jaw dropping Rana.
@0:05
www.youtube.com/watch?v=TYrBd9PnD1I&feature=player_embedded
Sinclair shows some of her gymnastic prowess as she vaults off Janel's knee and slides around behind the blonde, Sammie's legs finding an open spot on Manning's shoulders. Reflexively, Janel rises to her feet to likely electric chair drop the Mite wannabe. But before the Golden Mite can do so, the Golden Girl throws her bodyweight backward. And while Sammie flips to her belly, the back of Janel's head is DRIVEN into the deck with terrific force.
The crowd groans in sympathy for a moment before cheering on their favourite. For her part, Janel is on her knees for a split-second, there from the momentum after the collision with the canvas, but quickly face plants into the canvas, ending unmoving save for a spastic twitch, Sammie having seemingly placed Janel on Dream Street.
Given the rapid frequency of the contests attempts at pinning, the FAWNatics could be forgiven for believing that Sammie was about to do so again as she tucks her palms beneath and then flips the dead eyed Manning over onto her back. After a moment of consideration however, button nose a twitching in thought, the Bright Eyed Wonder clearly has other ideas as she sweeps her fringe away from her pretty peepers and instead locks her sights on the nearest corner.
Happy with where Janel was splayed spread eagled, Sinclair was on her feet and at the turnbuckles after a few short, light footed skips, climbing them with a skill that could only be attributed to natural affinity. Scaling the heights, Sammie looked out into the crowd and smiled brightly, bringing her hands together above her head and clapping the Upstarts three beat mantra, the Loyalist Legionnaires following suit in force.
Padding her feet slightly, despite the precarious nature of where she was standing, Sammie inhaled a second deep breath and, without another moment’s hesitation, if only to deny the nervous fluttering inside her trim tummy, Sinclair took flight!! The FAWNATICS roared, again witnessing the double moonsault experience that was Sinclair Summer Slam!!
@1:25
www.youtube.com/watch?v=HoxyK344sfs&index=1&t=86s&list=PLPuOyWan3CRt9D5q0QV7jOahlDdpDwYcY
Sammie flips through the air with the greatest of ease not once but TWICE and it might be the time it takes for the extra spin that gives Janel the time to pull her knees up into a ball and GUT the belly of the Brit. Sinclair hits with awful force, Manning using the power of the Summer Slam against its purveyor. A gagging, groaning Golden Girl rolls away from the mistake, hugging her ivory midriff.
Meanwhile Manning stretches back out but is slow to take advantage, the result of Sammie's earlier battering.
It's a race to see who can reach her feet more quickly and Manning barely wins it. But as Janel approaches Sammie, Sinclair manages to pluck the former gymnast off the deck. Still, when she does, Janel uses her momentum to swing around the startled Sparrow. Manning hoping to end strapped to Sammie's back, scissoring the Brit's head and stretching out her far arm in a signature tilt-a-whirl octopus.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=o1AAFsLqXZU
With a pair of muscled thighs clamping a duo of painfully powerful stems about her noggin, and the upper half of the mightiest mite painfully wrenching back a shoulder, Sammie soon came to realise that Janel was no easy burden for a flyweight to bear. She almost immediately dropped down to her knees, athletic legs shimmying as she gurgled out a surprised cry, her gutted tummy, trim and taunt, shivering beneath the strain. Force of will alone kept her upright, a sheer stubbornness that was her birthright, but even ‘Sinclair Pride’ could only get a girl so far.
She began to fall, pretty peepers fluttering as she found herself starved of oxygen, and it was only with a drunken sway that Sammie instead tumbled towards the nearest ropes and not the unyielding canvas, a place from which the Leader of the Upstart Nation would surely slip unconscious without the safety of the coils to save her.
The stubborn Sinclair does what she needs to make sure the octopus doesn't claim her. The feisty little brunette wraps a palm around the bottom cable when she falls to all fours and the official calls for a break almost immediately.
Janel pretends not to hear, but when the count starts, she uncoils from around her foe with a disappointed scrunch of her nose. Manning takes a few steps back and lets Sinclair up to her knees before deciding she's had enough time. Stepping back in, she puts a boot to Sammie's tummy then grabs a handful of dark locks, leading Sammie toward the middle like her heeled doggie. Reaching the centre, Janel drags the Brit to her feet and quickly pulls an arm of Sammie's between her legs to establish a pump handle, the much better to vault the Little Sparrow off the deck, flip her in the air and splatter her to the canvas with her Mite-y Gold Driver!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=FH-un3DvQT8
The Tiny Titan had made more than one daring reversal whilst being vaulted skyward, but as Janel showed off the power she possessed over her fellow Lightweights, her handling of the flagging Sinclair proved to be escape proof. With her tummy compromised and freckled cheeks rosy, the wilting Sammie was little more than an unwilling passenger as she was hupped up off the canvas, spun like Manning’s plaything and then sent THUDDING back down against the mat across her shoulders. The petite brunette groaned a short, sharp and pained grunt as her whole frame bucked from the lung emptying impact, flopping out into a limp limbed starfish, her small bosom rising with shallow breadths.
Janel sits next to the splayed Sammie looking very pleased with herself. Still, she doesn't go for the pin. Instead, she shoves a bare foot into Sammie's ribs, stirring the dark-haired Sparrow. Janel mockingly kips to her feet with a flourish, drawing steam from the ears of some of Sammie's followers.
Meanwhile Sinclair struggles to her feet, drunkenly. The unsteady People's Princess makes her feet, with Janel stalking her from behind. Knowing very well what Manning has in mind, the crowd squeals at the Upstart to warn her just as Janel reaches over Sammie's shoulders for her wrists to capture the Brit's arms in a straightjacket across Sinclair's throat, then hit the lungblower/clutch combo that would put a Perfect Ten of an ending on this victory.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=vudL_Iwg35I
With her bright eyes half fluttered, there was little hope for Sinclair to slip free of the Manning signature for a second time in the same contest, the posture of the English Export of Perfectly Petite Proportions almost submissive as her own arms were lassoed about her throat and she was dragged backwards. Indeed, earthwards was the only place that she was heading and, as she folded sharply backwards, it was with sickening force that a pair of knees impaled her from behind, stabbing sharply into both of her lungs and forcibly ejecting every single inch of air from her small body.
With her wrists released, Sammie popped away from the agonising impact until she was kneeling, teetering there on the spot before a breathless moan slipped out from her lips and she flopped forwards, one freckled cheek smacking down against the plywood before she shuddered still, Manning seemingly set on delivering on her FAWNMANIA promise.
Having lost her grip on the maneuver it wouldn't be a ‘perfect’ Perfect Ten for Janel, but as she scrambles to the downed Sinclair, she would make sure it would still be the end for the petulant little Upstart. All 59 inches of the muscular, former gymnast settles atop Sammie in a crouching forward straddle atop her foe's back. She reacquires the strangling straightjacket grip, using Sammie's arms as reins. The brutal Mite YANKS back as much as her straining biceps will allow, curving the spine of the already aching Sammie into a torturous Camel Clutch variant, bringing Sinclair out of her stupor with a mewling chirp.
Janel whispers in the Brit's ear, "Better give up Sinclair, or your return is going to be a VERY short one."
For the second time in her career, Manning had Samantha exactly where she wanted her, wrenched backwards as a woeful angle in the centre of the ring. The People’s Princess had faced defeat in her first PPV appearance to this self same manoeuvre at the hands of the self same Rival, and as her spine was being popped and arched at a near impossible angle, it seemed as if Janel was determined that this was to be the beloved brunettes last.
Sammie didn’t answer, she couldn’t, her pretty peepers opened only slightly, only the smallest moans and pained mewls escaping from her parted lips. The entirety of her petite frame shivered, from her button nose to the tippets of her toes, tortured to the limits of her endurance. She should quit, part of her knew it, but still she refused to do so, even as the clouds closed in and bright eyes fluttered shut. Sinclair was soon uttering nothing, not a single syllable, the young women slipping unconscious, one returning, Former Lightweight Champion rendered that way by another.
The ref quickly approaches Sammie, tapping a cheek. "Ask her," Janel demands, wanting to hear the words 'I quit' from Sinclair. The man does pose a question, but he asks Sammie if she's still there instead if she wants to give in. There is no response.
"Sammie. Sammie. Can you hear me?" The shuttered lids, droopy chin and otherwise lifeless frame convinces him another check is unnecessary and the man calls for the bell.
A furious Janel rattles Sammie from side to side wanting her to submit, but it's too late and Sammie's stubbornness has denied the winner that at least. Manning releases her straightjacket grip, rises, placing a bare foot behind Sammie's noggin, and CURBSTOMPS her face into the deck as punishment for not giving the Mite what she wants.
Rising, Janel slips a foot under Sammie's left shoulder and flops the demolished Sparrow to her back. Once there, Janel places a conquering foot atop Sinclair's trunks as she raises her arms high and wide, grinding in a heel that, if it didn't wake Sinclair would at least provider her an unpleasant reminder.
"Welcome back, loser."