Post by SammieSinclair on Feb 7, 2015 17:14:22 GMT
The Announcer checked his notes one more time. He wanted to make sure he‘d memorized the particulars before relaying them to the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen the following contest is scheduled for one fall with a fifteen minute time limit and it is a Falls Count Anywhere Match! Further more, the winner will be named Number One Contender for the Lightweight Title and will go on to face the champion at Heartbroken! Introducing first, she is FAWN‘s original bad girl, the catfighter‘s catfighter, a three-time former World and two-time former Tag Team champion…”
The lights dimmed and the crowd quieted to a dull roar but this wasn’t due to any lack of excitement. Rather it was the proverbial calm before the storm that had become one of FAWN’s biggest lightweight rivalries. The anticipation ratcheted that much higher when Van Halen's ‘Beautiful Girls’ erupted from the sound system, the unmistakable sound of Eddie Van Halen's signature riff tearing the air itself.
“Ladies and gentlemen, she is the LEGEND, THE ICONOCLAST, THE KILLER IMP HERSELF… CHHHRRRIIISSSYYY DAAANNNIIIEEELLL!!!!!”
A cannonade of pyro exploded from the rafters in time with the thunderous drum roll, their fiery white sparks illuminating the cavernous space in a momentarily blinding light. When it faded Chrissy Daniel stood atop the ramp. hands on her hips, she turned her head to scan the crowd, the corners of her mouth upturned into a smugly mischievous smile.
CHRISSY DANIEL:
She would’ve preferred a better class of riff-raff for her impending dismissal of the masked moron, but they weren’t totally offensive to the eye and nose, so Daniel supposed they’d have to do. Turning her thoughts to the battle ahead, she strutted down the aisle, hips swiveling with every self-assured step. For this rubber match against the bounciest brat in recent memory, the Imp wore a shiny leather two piece, somewhere between silver and black with copious amounts of fringe—at the hips, covering the crotch and bum, from the strap of the top across her back and particularly from her bosom, extending virtually to her waist, but still offering an excellent view of infernal midsection. The fringe also featured on her kneepads, all but obscuring her brown boots. Taking the stairs at a slow stalk, Daniel slipped through the strands after a tawdry waggle of her hips. Once inside the squared circle she flipped her lustrous hair back with one hand, then threw a few shadow jabs en route to her corner.
Ascending the ropes like they were some pathway to squared circle immortality, Chrissy glared into a nearby camera and explained, “At Thanksgrieving I corrected the mistake of Fawnamania by making that ugly little freak cry like a baby. Tonight I finish her for good, then move on to the Lightweight gold. Shine that belt up now. putz. I’m coming for your no talent ass.” That said, she twisted around and hopped down to the canvas with a sturdy little thump. Smiling at the memory of her foe’s masked mug wedged under her cheeks, Chrissy leaned against the buckles and mulled how to top the earlier humiliation.
Once Van Halen faded, the Announcer went on. “And introducing her opponent, hailing from somewhere far beyond the limits of gravity, she stands at five feet two inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and ten pounds weightless pounds. She is the Crimson Comet, the Roseate Rocket, the Maroon Meteor. She is the Girl That Gravity Forgot, we call her CHERRY BOMB!”
Aficionados of shooting stars and other heavenly bodies sprang to their feet as the lights went out. Deep in the dark and murmuring buzz came a thumping drum and a matched set of snapping fingers, the two bits of percussion bouncing to and fro in a rat-a-tat riff. A keening guitar note joined the beat and a few seconds later the situation got brighter in no small part due to the tongue of flame that licked at the base of the ramp. As the note held steady, the fire set off on a beeline for the top of the ramp.
The wick shrank in time with the arrival of more guitars and a huge BOOM of red pyro that almost swallowed the first verse of ’Comeback Kid’. From the center of this flash and flame a figure emerged, shooting up from the floor to land flawlessly before the capacity crowd.
CHERRY BOMB:
Leaping from that smoking crater, Cherry Bomb offered a high energy salute to her fans (both carbon-based and other) then raced down the ramp in a blur of red, black and white. For her deciding row with the savage Beach Cat, she wore snazzy bright red bottoms accented by two black 'claw slashes' on each hip, a pair of white 'fangs' on the front and a cross-bred cherry time-bomb emblazoned on the tush. Her top was a long-sleeved sports bra done in an identical scheme, solid red with black and white slashes along the shoulders, décolletage and biceps. Kneepads were matching red and also sported the 'cherry bomb' glyph while her boots were shiny and black.
Her mask was full face save for a rounded arch that left her nostrils, lips and chin exposed, Cherry’s signature accessory was as red as her togs with black outlines around the eyes (which themselves were screened over white) and exposed arch. The laces up the back were white velvet and there was an aperture that allowed egress for a dark, lustrous ponytail that hung to just beneath her shoulders.
Especially eager to erase the embarrassment of Thanksgrieving, it took the Crimson Comet mere heartbeats to shoot down the aisle and when she reached the base she vaulted from the floor to the apron, then from the apron to the top rope. Bouncing from it as casually as earthlings drew breath, Cherry Bomb hooked a sharp turn to the left, hit the adjoining set of strands and went soaring into a gorgeous back flip that set her back in the center of the ring. Then she was off again, the Roseate Rocket rounding on one heel to sprint to the far side of the squared circle. At the ropes in an instant, she caught the top and middle in both hands, leapt and twirled over the third strand in a Tiger Feint Kick that ’swicked’ through the air.
Back in the ring a heartbeat later, Cherry stomped to the middle of the ring and locked eyes with the Killer Imp. Invisible detonator in hand, Cherry flicked up the top, then pressed the button to raise a thunderous ‘BOOOOOOOM!’ from her fans. “Got me good last time, baby.” she admitted to the smug battler. “Not tonight though. Tonight you’re not a veteran. You’re just a veteran crash-pad.” Chrissy only waved her off with a double bird, so the Bomb strolled to her corner and offered her boots and pads to Al Carpenter when he approached for final inspections.
The bell sounded and Chrissy started toward the center with a nonchalant strut. Sure it was rubber match and she’d get a shot at the Lightweight Title when she won, but she just couldn’t bring herself to sweat a putz named Cherry Bomb, especially not after the humiliation that she’d doled out at Thanksgrieving. And with it being a Falls Count Anywhere match, well, the goofy little beeyotch was already beaten, even if she didn’t know it yet. Staking the center of the ring by rights as a future Hall of Famer, Daniel pointed a finger at the masked woman, then redirected it to a spot on the canvas directly in front of her. With a brisk snap of her fingers, she said, “You. Here. Knees. Now. Kiss my feet fast enough and I’ll finish you off quicker than you deserve.”
Cherry had worked diligently to put the embarrassing November loss out of her mind, but the Imp’s smirk brought it all back in a hot, humiliating rush. Forcing herself to move far slower than she wanted, the Bomb strode out of her corner and stopped on the spot Chrissy had indicated.
Pleased by the mostly prompt reply, Daniel tapped her foot against the mat and said, “I believe I said, ‘knees’, putz. Don’t make me tell you twiCCCNNNNGGGHH!”
Cherry put the veteran’s head on a swivel courtesy of a ringing Bytch Slap, then chested in as hard as she could and muttered, “I’m only gonna say this once, so I hope your Miracle Ear is turned all the way up, Chrissy. You want to beat me? Then you’ll have to BEAT me. Talking may have beat the other dinosaurs, but me? I’m a comet. And everyone knows what happens when dinosaurs and comets partNNNNGGGHHH!”
Chrissy backhanded her across the mouth and followed up with a shove for good measure. Infuriated by the show of defiance, Daniel stormed in for a second push, then added, “Do you know who I am, putz? I’ve been selling out arenas for more than a decade! Who are you? You’re nothing! Sharing a ring with me is the biggest moment of your life, so when I say get on your knees to thank me, you better damned well get on your knEESSSSRRGGH!”
Cherry shoved her right back, then left her feet in a low hop and blasted them forward for an equally low flying Dropkick. But whereas most examples of that particular maneuver were aimed at the recipient’s knees or thighs, the Bomb aimed her heels between the later, a blatant Low Blow that surprised the whole arena and Chrissy in particular.
“Hey now!” Craig Long called out as Daniel doubled over in gut-shot anguish. “Watch where you’re putting those boots, Cherry!”
Cherry, who’d turned around and stalked to her corner after the Dropkick, didn’t answer but she must’ve been listening because the admonition was barely out of the ref’s mouth when she whirled and raced straight at the stunned Beach Cat. Jumping ever so slightly she flicked up her right leg and THWHACKED Daniel between the eyes with a note-perfect Bakatare Sliding Kick. Already weakened by the surprise Dropkick, Chrissy flew up, back and down, the fireplug battler landing painfully on the back of her head and shoulders.
BACKATARE SLIDING KICK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=aQJco2gvjqs
Most women of any size would’ve stayed down after such a pair of forceful strikes, but Chrissy Daniel was the textbook definition of fireplug and she somersaulted backward onto her knees before slowly rising to her feet. “You… stupid bytch,” she grunted, “you have no idea what I’m going to do to UUUGGGHHH!”
Cherry charged, reared back with her left forearm and PWAAAKED it against the side of Daniel’s skull. Piling on more and more Forearm Smashes even before her feet touched the ground, the Bomb marched Chrissy to an empty corner and continued to apply shellac until Craig hurried over and pulled her off. “What’s gotten into you, Cherry? You know you can’t--”
“The hell I can’t!” she spat. “Falls count anywhere is no disqualification by its very definition, so I’m going to treat this tub of guts as shabbily as she treated me at Thanksgrieving!”
Dimly aware of what the ticked off tyro had said, Chrissy took a few steps out of the corner and pointed an accusatory finger. “Keep her back! That punk’s a gutless cheat and I won’t OOOOFFFHHH!”
The Roseate Rocket charged, leapt and slammed her feet into Chrissy’s tits with a Front Dropkick so powerful it blasted the former World Champion off her feet and BWUUUNGED her spine-first against the buckles. Even then Daniel didn’t go down, as she managed to hook an arm over the top rope just long enough to get both feet underneath her.
JOHN WOO DROPKICK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=6L_GWlsZfh8
Eager to make Chrissy pay for that demoralizing face grinder, Cherry stomped in, doubled over and grabbed the middle rope in both hands. Rearing back on her heels, she dove forward and plowed the point of her left shoulder into the undefended expanse of the Imp’s tummy. Four more followed in rapid succession before the Bomb abruptly pulled away. This wasn’t a cessation of hostilities, but merely a strategic repositioning as Cherry executed a par of back handsprings that took her to just shy of center ring. On the move as soon as she touched down, Cherry rushed back the way she’d came and launched herself into a THWHUMPING short range Spear that would’ve folded Chrissy in half if she hadn’t been smudged against the corner.
With nowhere else to go, Daniel crumpled against Cherry’s back, where she would’ve stayed if the masked marvel hadn’t straightened up. “Funny how one cheap shot can change the whole complexion of a fight, isn’t it?” She didn’t wait for an answer, she just wedged one knee between the blonde’s thighs and thumped her undercarriage for the second time that night. Chrissy moaned and tried to reach for her crotch but Cherry slapped her hand away. “I wonder,” she purred, her voice quiet and mean, “would you be a multi-time champion or a future Hall of Famer or ANYTHING, if the girls you fought were allowed to fight as dirty as you?”
Daniel started to answer (or at least mutter something) but the Roseate Rocket was in no mood to listen so she grabbed a double handful of hair and BWUUUNGED the back of her head against the top turnbuckle. Nearby, Craig Long waited as long as he felt comfortable before clearing his throat quite loudly. “All right, Cherry. It might be Falls Count Anywhere but that doesn’t mean you can keep her in the corner all night. Get her out of there.”
Cherry thought about giving him another piece of her mind, then decided against it. “You’re right, Craig.” she agreed after grabbing a big handful of hair. “I’m not going to let this corner have all the fun when there are three more to play with!”
Tightening her hold on the blonde’s roots, Cherry started down the ropes with Chrissy in tow and built up a solid head of steam before she bounced the Beach Cat’s noggin off the waiting turnbuckle. The FAWNatics, who’d gotten over the Bomb’s unexpected aggression well before the official, cheered that much louder when Cherry pointed to the next corner and called, “SHOULD I?” They replied in the affirmative a thousand times over, so the Crimson Comet charged to corner number three and introduced it to Chrissy’s skull at a dangerous rate of speed. It was then that the Imp’s legendary legs finally gave way, unfortunately the vengeful masked woman scraped her up after less than two seconds of downtime. “Not quite bed time yet, Shrimp.” Cherry growled, throwing the veteran’s Thanksgrieving taunt in her face. “There’s still one more corner that wants to kiss you good night.”
Daniel managed to throw a woozy punch into the tenacious tyro’s tummy, unfortunately it wasn’t nearly enough to keep Cherry Bomb from racing to the last corner and BWUUUNGING her head against the buckles as hard as she could. Chrissy’s knees gave way again, so the Girl That Gravity Forgot turned her around and wedged her in against the buckles. Rather than go for yet more Shoulderblocks she ‘hupped’ the Imp to a seat on the top buckle and promptly pasted an open-handed Slap across one cheek to make sure she’d stay in place.
Chrissy reeled a bit but otherwise did as expected, so the Bomb turned around and jogged to mid-ring before pulling a one-eighty and racing back the way she’d came. Springing from the mat to the top rope in a single bound, Cherry planted her left foot on the top strand and whipped her right leg up n’ around to THWHACK a huge Enzuigiri off the side of her foe’s skull. Daniel shuddered, tried to grab hold of the ropes and missed, sending her plummeting to the mat with a dull thud.
TOP ROPE ENZUIGIRI:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=qgy9KOWc8tc
Pinpoint as it had been, the fireplug blonde retained more than a little of her preternatural ring awareness because she immediately barrel rolled under the bottom rope to the floor below.
Cherry scrambled after her on all fours, even going so far as to reach through the ropes until she remembered it didn’t matter if Daniel had bailed, tonight there was no place for her to hide. Smacking the mat with both hands, the Bomb popped to boot leather and called, “C’mon Chrissy, get’cher tubby little ass up! We’re just getting started!”
Out on the floor, Daniel put a hand to the back of her head and struggled to one knee. Casting a baleful glance up at the ring, she growled, “Keep running your mouth, putz. Sooner or later I’m gonna stuff it with my bo--” Cherry wheeled around, hit the ropes on the far side of the ring and was streaking toward the Beach Cat at top speed. Chrissy wanted absolutely nothing to do with the Maroon Meteor so she threw herself backward against the barrier just as Cherry was taking flight.
At least, she THOUGHT Cherry was taking flight. While she did in fact leave her feet and soar over the top rope, the masked woman hooked it in both hands as she passed by and used it to whip herself back into the ring, a stylish little fake out that earned a cheer from the FAWNatics and a curse from Daniel. On her feet in an instant, the fireplug blonde jabbed a finger at her rival and snarled, “What the fahk do you think this is putz, a gymnastics meet? You wanna fight? Get your ass out here and FIGHT!”
Cherry considered it for all of a second before hopping over the ropes to the apron. “I’m more than ready to fight, Shrimp. But you? Seems you don’t wanna fight unless my back is turned. So let me make it easy for you.” With that she turned her back and raised both hands, a brazen show of bravery or disrespect, depending on one’s view.
Chrissy took it as the latter, which explained why she stormed across the narrow aisle and THWHAP! The Interstellar Angel flicked her right foot back and caught Daniel in the chops with a sharp little kick. Glancing over her shoulder to check distances, the Bomb was pleased to see Chrissy had stumbled back to within a few paces of the guardrail. That was more than enough room to work with so she leapt to the top rope, dropped into a deep crouch and slung herself into a soaring back flip that would’ve made a flawless Asai Moonsault IF Chrissy hadn’t caught her atop one shoulder.
Wrapping one arm around Cherry’s lower back, she cupped her other hand against the base of her foe’s neck and charged toward the nearest cornBWUUUNK! The crown of Cherry’s skull bounced off the steel post and she flopped to the floor in a twitching heap, looking far much more like a spent firework than FAWN’s shooting star.
Never one to draw it out unless it was in her best interests (or bringing her great pleasure) Daniel dropped across the brunette’s chest in a miniature Splash and drew both legs into a tight bundle. Craig, who hadn’t expected the tide to turn so suddenly, was still inside the ring so it took him a half second longer to get to the floor than he would’ve liked. Even so, the collision was only a few seconds old when he slapped the mat…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOO!
Cherry shoved loose and turned onto one side with all of a whisper between herself and defeat. Chrissy reared back on her haunches and would’ve smacked the putz if he hadn’t drawn out of range a split second prior. “From now on I want your punk ass as close to this action as possible, do I make myself clear, asshole?”
“Hey! I got out here damned fast, there’s no need for that!” Long replied.
“There’s no need for it RIGHT NOW.” Chrissy corrected him. “If I see you out of position one more time though, we’re going to have a problem.” Long didn’t bother to answer, so Daniel helped herself to a double handful of the smaller woman’s ponytail and scraped her off the floor. “Not so tough when things slow down, are you putz?” the words were still on her lips when she lowered a shoulder to Cherry’s midsection and drove her spine-first into the apron with a low THWHUNK!
The Bomb’s back curved in a violent arch and she would’ve dropped to her knees if the Beach Cat hadn’t helped keep her vertical. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re just like any other housefly. You can stick and move like nobody’s business until SPLAT!” Chrissy grabbed Cherry by the scruff of the neck, charged across the narrow aisle and THWHUMPED her prey into a gut-first landing across the steel barrier.
Robbed of all but the shallowest of breaths, Cherry would’ve toppled into the laps of some front row fans if Daniel hadn’t reached out and snatched a handful of trunks. “The fly swatter comes down and then you’re nothing but a disgusting grease spot.” Reeling the winded woman off the unforgiving steel, Chrissy hooked her left arm over the Bomb’s left shoulder, then reached through her legs and palmed a rough handful of trunks. Then she dipped her knees and popped her hips to take Cherry up, over and DOWN onto her face, chest and belly courtesy of a nauseating Inverted Power Slam.
INVERTED POWER SLAM:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=iIPcBXAX7gw
The Bomb shuddered and tried to roll over, but Chrissy put a knee against the back of her neck and leaned down, forcing the pinned battler to inspect the thin blue mats from far closer than she would’ve liked. Curling her hand around Cherry’s ponytail for a second time, Chrissy pulled up, putting an unpleasant kink in the grounded woman’s neck.
“Give it up right now, bytch.” she demanded. “Or I’ll use the steps to scrape that ugly ass mask off your face.”
The Crimson Comet reached up, grabbed hold of Daniel’s wrist and tried to prize the talon from her hair with no noticeable success. “Duuuhhhh…. don’t be jealous of the mask, Chrissy. If you want I can ask around, see if anyone makes them in troll sizZUUUUNNNNNNGGHHHH!”
Chrissy put one hand against the Bomb’s back, another between her shoulders and pushed up into a perfect headstand. Didn’t last long but then again it didn’t have to, as the Killer Imp swung down and THWHUMPED both knees into her prey’s lower back. From there she swung a leg over and settled into a deep mount, the curve of her buttocks snuggling nicely into the hollow of Cherry’s abused vertebrae. “You wanna mouth off? Go ahead and mouth off. I wonder if you’ll smarten up in time to keep yourself out of a wheelchair?”
It was a valid concern considering all the punishment Cherry’s spine had absorbed and it grew all the more salient when the Beach Cat grabbed the brunette’s biceps and angled them back over her biceps to secure most of a Camel Clutch. But rather than cup her foe’s chin as was standard, Chrissy took the smaller woman’s ponytail and pulled it across her throat like some sort of traitorous built-in garrote. “See that?” she cooed while using the masked marvel’s own hair to strangle her. “Even your hair knows you can’t win. That’s why it’s helping me take you out. Probably hoping I won’t shear it off when I take that damned mask.”
With both hands digging at the follicular noose, Cherry didn’t bother to waste a breath on ‘no’ when the ref asked if she wanted to give, she just shook her head as best she could, which wasn’t very much, admittedly. The silent, gutsy response wasn’t much to Chrissy’s liking, so she yaaaaaaaaanked on Cherry’s hair all the harder and jostled her head up n’ down in search of a bawling surrender. “Give it up, putz!” she snarled at the sputtering, presumably red-faced grappler.
But the Bomb wouldn’t be defused, she only coughed out a ‘no’ and kept squirming her arms in hopes of wrenching them loose. She managed to do so after several hellish seconds and immediately set about trying to free herself from the Imp’s noose. Of course that tactic was in direct opposition to Daniel’s, who was growing more irritated with the brunette’s resistance by the second. Deciding that it was time to screw finesse, she tossed Cherry’s ponytail aside and settled for clamping one hand around thy tyro’s neck.
That was more than enough for Craig, as he’d only tolerated the previous stranglehold by the slimmest of margins. “All right, enough of that shyt, Chrissy! Falls count anywhere doesn’t mean I’m gonna let you choke her out like that!”
Daniel almost sassed him, but decided against it. As an alternative shoe of disrespect she grabbed the Bomb’s shoulders and wrenched up, which earned a sharp cry of pain from her captive. Said cry was still issuing forth when the former FAWN World Champion tossed Cherry down, THWHUMPING her face and chest into the barely-padded floor.
“This guy’s running his mouth, acting like keeping me off your throat is actually a good thing.” Chrissy murmured to the vulnerable lass as she coiled another length of ponytail around her fist. Once she’d hauled the Bomb to her feet, she started toward the steps and resumed her monologue. “It’s not though. Throttling you senseless was the best thing that could’ve happened to you. Now that he tells me I cant, well, I’m just going to have to get a lot nastier.”
Having arrived at the base of the steps, Chrissy quickly made her way to the top with Cherry trailing raggedly behind. Daniel shifted to one side to make sure that her prey could take her spot on the top step, but that’s where the courtesy ended as she quickly stuffed Cherry’s head under her left arm in a Front Facelock. From there she helped herself to a handful of trunks and muscled the Bomb from verticality to high noon in the blink of an eye. An impressive show of strength to be sure and one that grew all the more impressive as Daniel let the stall spin out. Powerless to do otherwise, the FAWNatics counted off each and every tick of the Doomsday Clock.
‘ONE… TWO… THREE… FOUR… FIVE… SIX… SEVEN… EIGHT… NINE… TENOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH!
Chrissy sidled to the edge of the steps, then let loose of Cherry’s waistband and let the flyweight fall into place across her chest even as the Beach Cat dropped from the steps to the floor. Now, a Jackhammer was already unpleasant enough, but factor in the barely-padded concrete AND a fall of seven or more feet thrown on top and you can understand why the crowd was quick to toss out ‘HOLY SHIT!’ The landing wasn’t the greatest on Chrissy’s knees, but it was a small price to pay for crushing the Bomb like a cockroach. Hooking the far leg even though she thought it patently unnecessary, the Imp pulled it up high and beamed while Long counted…
JACKHAMMER (sans steps) @ 00:48
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_3eArKxVJf8
ONE!
TWO!!
THRNOOOO!!!
Cherry wrenched her leg free and shot a hand into the air to save her title aspirations with a half second to spare. Chrissy on the other hand wasn’t thinking about anything except how the little shyt had found the wherewithal to kick out. Raking a hand through her hair did nothing to soothe her nerves so she snatched hold of the Bomb’s head in both hands and scraped her off the mat. Shifting one hand to the smaller woman’s waistband, Daniel rushed toward the beckoning steps and hurled Cherry at them, the Bomb launched with so much force she pulled off a half somersault in mid-air before BWUUUNGING against the side. The steps toppled to one side while Cherry collapsed into a sprawled matchbook, the perfect sacrifice for a Killer Imp.
Yet Chrissy didn’t approach for a cover, in fact her attention wasn’t even focused on the suffering pile of girl-flesh. Rather it was honed in on the floor mats and more specifically, the seams that held them together. Following a moment’s thought she dropped to one knee and worked her fingers into the crease between two mats. It took a little doing but once she had a good grip it didn’t take Daniel long to peel back the protective barrier, thus exposing the matte gray concrete beneath.
Craig Long didn’t care for this development in the slightest, especially when the Beach Cat stalked back to Cherry and helped herself to a huge handful of ponytail. “What, uhhhh, what do you think you’re doing, Chrissy?”
He asked, even though it was patently obvious that the blonde had ill on her mind. Chrissy was well within her rights to scoff at such a foolish question, but she actually flashed him a wicked smile once she’d led Cherry to the bare patch. “Why, I’m putting this putz out of her misery. And mine.”
A Toe Kick to the navel doubled Cherry over and a simple tug wedged her head between the veteran’s thighs. With the Bomb forced to look down at the implement of her destruction, Chrissy patted her defenseless tush a few times, then hooked a handful of trunks and yanked them several inches north. Cherry screeched and tried to wriggle free, but Daniel only squeezed a bit tighter and THWHACKED a few clubbing Forearm Smashes into her back for good measure. When the resistance subsided, she leaned forward and wrapped both arms around the brunette’s slim waist. “Don’t worry, I won’t let too much blood get on your mask.” she reassured the hapless battler. “After all, I’m going to need a clean rag to keep the Lightweight Championship nice and shiny.”
Intentions made clear, she bent her knees and hoisted Cherry upside down for-- relieved cheers from those assembled when the Bomb kicked her feet hard enough to return them to the floor. “Too late for that, putz.” Chrissy grunted. “You’ve got a date with a concussion test.” She pounded a few more Forearm Smashes across the ingenue’s back, then resumed the Waistlock that much tighter than prior. From there she whipped Cherry up, not for a Piledriver, but all the way onto her shoulders for a Powerbomb.
The FAWNatics were just starting to avert their gaze when the Crimson Comet locked both hands behind Daniel’s head and slipped free of her perch. Landing tush first on a concrete floor wasn’t the Bomb’s idea of a pleasant landing, yet it was infinitely better than Chrissy’s faceplant, considering the sick way her forehead THWHUNKED against the rough floor.
OUCHIES:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jan2ifPuSAg
The Imp bounced and rolled, albeit not very far, one simply did not shrug off a desperation Facebuster, even when one was built like a fireplug. Beside her, Cherry Bomb flopped back and simply looked up at the lights, willing herself back into the match while making a running tally of her aches and pains. The complete list didn’t look too good but the Maroon Meteor was certain she could go-- Chrissy pushed to all fours and started to crawl away in hopes of putting some distance between them. The Bomb forced herself to sit up but did no more than watch until Daniel clambered to boot leather and hauled herself onto the apron.
Angry at the idea of Chrissy running back to the ring as soon as things got too rough, Cherry stood up and sidled up against the apron without actually hopping aboard. ‘HEY!” she called to the penitent veteran. “Where do you think you’re going… putz?”
Chrissy, who had one arm hooked over the middle rope to make sure she didn’t lose her balance, looked up and growled, “Open your mouth again and I’ll HEY NNNNNGGGGGGHHHH!”
Cherry sprinted down the aisle, sprang into the air and clasped her hands tight across the back of the busty blonde’s neck. Then she yanked back and dropped to the floor while Chrissy’s aching pate THWHUNKED against the apron in a beautifully improvised Reverse STO. The Beach Cat shuddered violently but went still the instant she hit the floor. No rest for the wicked though, Cherry immediately pulled the dazed blonde away from the possibly sheltering confines of the apron and stretched out across her chest. Long dropped to one knee, checked Daniel’s shoulders and tolled off…
REVERSE STO ON THE APRON:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=lxer_2Ya2Pg
ONE!
TWO!!
THRNOOO!!!
Chrissy shoved the Bomb away and struggled to one knee. Her kick-out may have kept the match alive but Chrissy herself was in critical condition, with one hand braced against the floor like a kickstand and the other pressed tight to her throbbing forehead. As such, she didn’t notice when the Crimson Comet popped to her feet and sprinted to the far end of that narrow, dangerous alley.
Wheeling around without so much as a word for the fans, Cherry reversed course at top speed and closed the gap in mere heartbeats. Unaware of trouble until she felt the pounding drumbeat of the putz’s boots, Daniel looked up at the precise moment Cherry hopped onto her posted right knee. THWHONK! The Bomb slammed her own right knee between Chrissy’s eyes, a righteous tribute to the original Shining Wizard that sent the veteran slopping to her back like a bag of laundry. Landing beside her foe, Cherry hooked the near leg and cranked it tight as the ref counted…
CHERRY WIZARD @ 1:22
www.youtube.com/watch?v=DbH6uBOksJE
ONE!
TWO!!
THRNOOOO!!!
The Killer Imp kicked out for the second time in less than a minute, astounding Cherry and the FAWNatics alike. “Ok, so you haven’t gone soft in your golden years, that’s good.” the Bomb huffed. “Means it’ll be all the more impressive when I beat GRRRRRRHHHHHH BYTCH!”
Down though she may be, Chrissy Daniel was far from defenseless, as everyone learned when she darted out her right hand and grabbed hold of the youngster’s crotch. While it lacked the usual bear trap power of her usual grip, it still shut the masked loser up long enough for Chrissy to sneer, “Here’s the thing, putz. You’re NOT going to beat me. One fluke is all ya geNNGGHH!”
Cherry earned her brawlin’ bona fides when she palmed the blonde’s head in both hands, yanked it up and bounced it right back down. Woozy all over again, Daniel could only groan curses while the brunette yanked her upright via a double handful of hair. “That was no fluke, sweetie.” Cherry growled as they made their way around the steel steps on their way to the other side of the ring. “I flattened your tubby little ass once and that’s what I’m going to do tonight, even if they have to scrape you up with a spatula!”
She punctuated this bold prophecy by rushing the next post and BWUUUNKING Chrissy’s forehead into the thick, unadorned steel. Daniel’s legs went watery and she started to sink, so the Bomb grabbed her by togs and tresses and pulled up until she was steady again. Then she switched over to a Side Headlock for better control and rounded the corner to finish the journey which lead to the Commentator’s Table.
The Interstellar Angel caught Joanna’s eye and motioned for her to clear the stuff off the tabletop. Coleman shook her head ‘no’ at first, but quickly changed her tune when Cherry scooped the Imp into a makeshift Body Slam. Tromping into Joanna and Gordy’s domain, she flashed them both a smile before depositing Chrissy on the tabletop. Once the spread was properly prepared, Cherry honed in on Solis and waggled an index finger in his general direction. “I don’t wanna catch you sneaking anything before I’ve had a taste, got me, Gordy? There’ll be plenty of Shrimp to go around, even after I’ve had my fill.”
Gordy couldn’t think of a single smart remark, so the Bomb scurried across the aisle, hopped onto the apron and sped to the nearest corner. The crowd, which had been buzzing ever since Chrissy’s head cracked off the concrete, rose with Cherry Bomb as she got her balance up there in the high rent district. Looking out into the sea of faces and flashbulbs, the Girl That Gravity shrugged, then grinned from ear to ear. “I’m just gonna say it.” Both hands went to her mouth just before she roared, “SENSATIONAL!” With tribute paid (or was that ‘challenge issued‘?) Cherry soared out into the void, her augmented arc giving the tyro more than enough time to swing both legs up to waist level.
Chrissy on the other hand didn’t have time to do anything but watch Cherry occupy more and more of her field of vision. She was still watching when the back of the Bomb’s right thigh came down atop her face. There was a sweaty THWHUMP followed by a sharp CRAAACK and finally an echoing THUD as both women landed amidst the wreckage of what was once a fine table.
Perfect though her execution may have been, no landing on one’s tailbone was painless, especially one from a more than respectable height. Hands pressed tight to her aching tush, Cherry Bomb inspected the damage until she was satisfied nothing had broken, chipped or otherwise fractured. The delay was less than five seconds, certainly not long enough for Chrissy to sit up, let alone defend against the Lateral Press and subsequent…
ONE!
TWO!!
THRENOOOOOOOO!!!
Daniel didn’t so much kick out as she did slide onto her side. Even so, it got her shoulder off the floor and delayed Cherry’s number one contender aspirations yet again. Seeming even more wide-eyed than could be accounted for by the mask, Cherry ran her hands along the curve of her skull, apparently trying to soothe her nerves. It must’ve worked because rather than question the ref’s count, she grabbed Chrissy by trunks ‘n tresses and hauled her clear of the rubble.
“Played your game long enough, Shrimp.” she explained. “Time we played mine again.”
Getting Daniel onto the apron took a little bit more doing than usual but once she was under the bottom rope a few good shoves got her rolling toward the center of the ring. Cherry climbed onto the apron, then scrambled over to the corner and climbed to the top floor yet again.
Once Chrissy slowed to a wheezing, spasmodic stop, the Maroon Meteor swung around in a half circle and stood up straight. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed the Killer Imp’s general state of flatness, so Cherry dropped into a deep crouch and launched herself back into the aether with a breathtaking Moonsault. The masked woman seemed to hang near the apex of her arc, which certainly explained how Daniel found the time to roll clear of the blast zone. Of course it also explained how the Bomb adjusted in mid-air and landed on her feet inches away from the prone veteran. No sooner had she touched down did Cherry spring into another Moonsault, one just as pretty, albeit not so high. Such a shame then that the blonde pulled her knees up against her chest, thus ensuring a most unpleasant landing.
Roaring to boot-leather in true horror movie fashion, a hollow eyed, bloodthirsty Beach Cat pounced on a retreating Cherry and whirled her around into a Front Facelock. Just like that she snapped back and down to THWHUNK the crown of her prey’s skull into the mat with an Evenflow DDT. Cherry flopped onto her back and Chrissy was right there to sprawl across her chest. Then she hooked both legs, bundled ‘em up tight and mouthed, ‘Fuck you, putz’ to the closest camera as the ref counted…
FLOWING DDT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=wkeA4bLnc6Q
ONE!
TWO!!
THRNOOOO!!!
The Interstellar Angel fought loose and the FAWNatics allowed themselves the luxury of an exhalation. Astounded and infuriated in equal measure, Chrissy almost reached for Long’s neck before shifting course to claim Cherry’s ponytail as her own. “Had yourself a good run there, bytch.” Chrissy admitted as she pulled her victim to all fours. “There’s not too many chicks on this roster who can say they put me through a table and now you’re one of ‘em. Tables don’t win titles though. And I’m afraid all your championship dreams are about to… Implode.”
With that she situated herself behind the masked woman and leaned down to wrap her arms around Cherry’s waist. Grunting slightly, Daniel hoisted the Bomb up Wheelbarrow-style and held her against her chest, all the better to slip her right hand under Cherry’s right bicep in a Half Nelson. The crowd roared for their heroine to find a way out, knowing that the Implosion was the sort of move that meant the recipient left on a stretcher. Alas, their entreaties fell on deaf (or at least dulled) ears as Cherry hung limp and ragged even when Chrissy pushed onto her tiptoes and reared back to the very limits of balance. A heartbeat passed before she swung the Bomb forward and down while simultaneously sitting out, a potent combination that THWAHAMMED the hapless flyweight flush on the back of her head and shoulders. Folded into a gawdawful matchbook by the Imp’s favorite kill shot, Cherry didn’t so much as groan through the…
IMPLOSION:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=lUNCJdhI-A8
ONE!
TWO!!
THRENOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
The Crimson Comet slipped an arm out from under Chrissy’s encroaching stems and turned onto her side within a whisper of the three count. Openly gaping in the wake of her foe’s narrow escape, Chrissy finally gathered her wits and a hellaciously bad attitude to go with them. “ARE YOU FAHKING KIDDING ME?” she roared at an equally incredulous Craig Long. “THAT WAS THREE! NO WAY SOME PISSANT LITTLE PIPSQUEAK BEATS THAT COUNT!”
Craig thought much the same (albeit in nicer terms) but he knew he’d been in position and the count delivered at proper speed so all he did was shrug. “I don’t know what to tell you, Chrissy. It was way more than two but it wasn’t quite three.”
Daniel shook her head in disgust. I’m going to end her career and that’s on you.”
Quick to act on this threat, the Beach Cat scraped Cherry off the mat and marched her near dead weight to the closest corner. The brunette’s wooziness made maneuvering her into a seat on the top buckle more difficult than she would’ve liked, but there was nothing in the way of active resistance, which pleased her very much. Once Cherry was properly perched, she climbed onto the second rope and took the youngster’s head in both hands. “Know what? I’m going to take your mask now, putz. There’s no way I could get the bloodstains out if I took it aftEROOOOOFFFHHHHHHH!”
Cherry wrenched loose and spiked the crown of her skull deep into the pit of Daniel’s belly. A second Headbutt had Chrissy doubled up directly above her, so the Bomb straightened up fast to drive the back of her noggin into the point of Chrissy’s chin. Suddenly un-tethered from her opposition, Chrissy windmilled her arms wildly and managed to clamp onto the brunette’s shoulder.
“Nuuuhhhh…. nice try, putz.” she rasped. “But if I go down you’re going with UUUUUNNNNNNGGGGGGGH!”
Cherry pounded a short, merciless Uppercut into the blonde’s crotch, payback with interest for the humiliation she’d suffered after their second match. That was more than enough to turn Chrissy’s grip to water, so the Bomb put a hand on tummy and chin and pushed, sending the crippled battler to the mat in a gut-shot heap. Struggling to stand on rickety legs, the Maroon Meteor caught her balance and pointed a pair of index fingers at the grappler spattered far below. Then she crooked her thumbs and jerked her wrists up, two identical shots that earned a BANG! from the redlining FAWNatics.
Their collective pulse raced all the harder when Cherry leapt and hurled herself into a head-first front flip whilst twirling like a pissed off gyroscope. As perfect with their timing as ever, the crowd roared KA-BOOOOOOOOOOM! when the Bomb landed full force atop Chrissy’s heaving tummy. The Beach Cat shuddered like she’d been hit by a defibrillator, then fell still when Cherry slung a leg over her body and planted her tush firmly on the Imp’s chest. Right leg hooked under her arm in a glorious half Matchbook, Cherry raised her other hand high overhead and helped toll off the….
CHERRY WARHEAD:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=jKhFpUOWefc
ONE!
TWO!!
THRENOOOOOOOO!!!
The Beach Cat shrugged her off at the last possible moment, lending serious credence to the locker room gossip about her nine lives. But whereas Daniel had wasted precious seconds arguing with the official, Cherry Bomb smacked her palms against the mat once, then went back on the attack. Hauling the wheezing blonde to her feet with a double handful of hair, the Interstellar Angel traded it in for a Wristlock on Chrissy’s left wrist, all the better to twist her arm in a smooth circle. From there she sidled into place on Daniel’s left side and reached across the blonde’s back with her right hand to hook her right arm. Then she dipped down and leaned forward, muscling the other woman up across her back in something like a Torture Rack. Switching her left hand to a hold on Chrissy’s ankles, Cherry folded them over one another in a compressed ‘X’ and craaaaaaaaaaaaanked forward on them and the captured arm.
“Like my new move, Chrissy?” the Bomb growled through gritted teeth. “What say we take it for a spin?”
LA REINERA:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nz7XaVmJRfs
She proceeded to do exactly that, hurling the both of them into an Airplane Spin twirl that not only disoriented, but exacerbated the pain in Daniel’s spine and tummy as well. Cherry maintained the spin cycle for about ten seconds, then stamped on the brakes and started bouncing up and down, each and every movement bending Chrissy into a torturous ‘C’ curve. “Ready to give, Shrimp?” Cherry bellowed at the squealing blonde. “Or maybe I should ask, are you ready for me to tuck you in?”
The Killer Imp shook her head frantically ‘no’ even though it felt she could come apart at the seams at any moment. “FAHK YOU PUTZ! I’M CHRISSY BY GAWD DANIEL, I DON’T GIVE UP TO AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Cherry threw herself into a tawny red, white ‘n black cyclone and this time she didn’t slow down, in fact she increased the pace of her revolutions until-- the bell CLANGED and Craig was tapping on her shoulder. “Let her go, Cherry! She gave it up!”
The Bomb ground to a twitchy stop, but she didn’t release her hold. Rather she WRENCHED down on both ends and bounced all the harder. “I DON’T CARE IF YOU GIVE, BYTCH!” she shouted at the blonde, “I WANNA KNOW IF YOU QUIT!”
“AAAAAAGGGGHHHHHH FAAAAAAAHHHHHK YOOOOOOU PUTZ!” Daniel yowled. “JUST LEMME GO, YOU ALREADY WOOOOONNNN AAAAIIIIEEEEEEE I QUIT! I QUIT! I FAHKIN’ QUIT!”
Cherry gave Chrissy a final yank, then let loose and stepped away, leaving the beaten blonde to hit the mat in an exhausted, bawling heap. Not quite through her fightin’ rage yet, Cherry couldn’t stop stalking around the ring while the Announcer called, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via submission… CHERRY BOMB!”
The Girl That Gravity Forgot finally threw up a pair of fists to acknowledge the ovation from the sold out crowd. After a moment more she stomped back to Chrissy and planted a boot on the Imp’s belly and pressed down. But when she spoke, it wasn’t to the Imp. Rather it was into the mic she’d gestured for a moment prior.
“POLLY LOCKWOOD! I’m through waiting for you, short-stuff! So I’ve got an idea. You. Me. Heartbroken. Any match you want. You bring your stars and stripes.” Beneath the curve of her mask, Cherry’s lips curled into a wicked smile. “I’ll bring the rocket’s red glare.”
Certain the prissy little patriot would answer her sooner than later, Cherry dropped the mic and made a point of putting all her weight on Chrissy’s quivering midsection when she set out on the first of many victory laps.
The lights dimmed and the crowd quieted to a dull roar but this wasn’t due to any lack of excitement. Rather it was the proverbial calm before the storm that had become one of FAWN’s biggest lightweight rivalries. The anticipation ratcheted that much higher when Van Halen's ‘Beautiful Girls’ erupted from the sound system, the unmistakable sound of Eddie Van Halen's signature riff tearing the air itself.
“Ladies and gentlemen, she is the LEGEND, THE ICONOCLAST, THE KILLER IMP HERSELF… CHHHRRRIIISSSYYY DAAANNNIIIEEELLL!!!!!”
A cannonade of pyro exploded from the rafters in time with the thunderous drum roll, their fiery white sparks illuminating the cavernous space in a momentarily blinding light. When it faded Chrissy Daniel stood atop the ramp. hands on her hips, she turned her head to scan the crowd, the corners of her mouth upturned into a smugly mischievous smile.
CHRISSY DANIEL:
She would’ve preferred a better class of riff-raff for her impending dismissal of the masked moron, but they weren’t totally offensive to the eye and nose, so Daniel supposed they’d have to do. Turning her thoughts to the battle ahead, she strutted down the aisle, hips swiveling with every self-assured step. For this rubber match against the bounciest brat in recent memory, the Imp wore a shiny leather two piece, somewhere between silver and black with copious amounts of fringe—at the hips, covering the crotch and bum, from the strap of the top across her back and particularly from her bosom, extending virtually to her waist, but still offering an excellent view of infernal midsection. The fringe also featured on her kneepads, all but obscuring her brown boots. Taking the stairs at a slow stalk, Daniel slipped through the strands after a tawdry waggle of her hips. Once inside the squared circle she flipped her lustrous hair back with one hand, then threw a few shadow jabs en route to her corner.
Ascending the ropes like they were some pathway to squared circle immortality, Chrissy glared into a nearby camera and explained, “At Thanksgrieving I corrected the mistake of Fawnamania by making that ugly little freak cry like a baby. Tonight I finish her for good, then move on to the Lightweight gold. Shine that belt up now. putz. I’m coming for your no talent ass.” That said, she twisted around and hopped down to the canvas with a sturdy little thump. Smiling at the memory of her foe’s masked mug wedged under her cheeks, Chrissy leaned against the buckles and mulled how to top the earlier humiliation.
Once Van Halen faded, the Announcer went on. “And introducing her opponent, hailing from somewhere far beyond the limits of gravity, she stands at five feet two inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and ten pounds weightless pounds. She is the Crimson Comet, the Roseate Rocket, the Maroon Meteor. She is the Girl That Gravity Forgot, we call her CHERRY BOMB!”
Aficionados of shooting stars and other heavenly bodies sprang to their feet as the lights went out. Deep in the dark and murmuring buzz came a thumping drum and a matched set of snapping fingers, the two bits of percussion bouncing to and fro in a rat-a-tat riff. A keening guitar note joined the beat and a few seconds later the situation got brighter in no small part due to the tongue of flame that licked at the base of the ramp. As the note held steady, the fire set off on a beeline for the top of the ramp.
The wick shrank in time with the arrival of more guitars and a huge BOOM of red pyro that almost swallowed the first verse of ’Comeback Kid’. From the center of this flash and flame a figure emerged, shooting up from the floor to land flawlessly before the capacity crowd.
CHERRY BOMB:
Leaping from that smoking crater, Cherry Bomb offered a high energy salute to her fans (both carbon-based and other) then raced down the ramp in a blur of red, black and white. For her deciding row with the savage Beach Cat, she wore snazzy bright red bottoms accented by two black 'claw slashes' on each hip, a pair of white 'fangs' on the front and a cross-bred cherry time-bomb emblazoned on the tush. Her top was a long-sleeved sports bra done in an identical scheme, solid red with black and white slashes along the shoulders, décolletage and biceps. Kneepads were matching red and also sported the 'cherry bomb' glyph while her boots were shiny and black.
Her mask was full face save for a rounded arch that left her nostrils, lips and chin exposed, Cherry’s signature accessory was as red as her togs with black outlines around the eyes (which themselves were screened over white) and exposed arch. The laces up the back were white velvet and there was an aperture that allowed egress for a dark, lustrous ponytail that hung to just beneath her shoulders.
Especially eager to erase the embarrassment of Thanksgrieving, it took the Crimson Comet mere heartbeats to shoot down the aisle and when she reached the base she vaulted from the floor to the apron, then from the apron to the top rope. Bouncing from it as casually as earthlings drew breath, Cherry Bomb hooked a sharp turn to the left, hit the adjoining set of strands and went soaring into a gorgeous back flip that set her back in the center of the ring. Then she was off again, the Roseate Rocket rounding on one heel to sprint to the far side of the squared circle. At the ropes in an instant, she caught the top and middle in both hands, leapt and twirled over the third strand in a Tiger Feint Kick that ’swicked’ through the air.
Back in the ring a heartbeat later, Cherry stomped to the middle of the ring and locked eyes with the Killer Imp. Invisible detonator in hand, Cherry flicked up the top, then pressed the button to raise a thunderous ‘BOOOOOOOM!’ from her fans. “Got me good last time, baby.” she admitted to the smug battler. “Not tonight though. Tonight you’re not a veteran. You’re just a veteran crash-pad.” Chrissy only waved her off with a double bird, so the Bomb strolled to her corner and offered her boots and pads to Al Carpenter when he approached for final inspections.
The bell sounded and Chrissy started toward the center with a nonchalant strut. Sure it was rubber match and she’d get a shot at the Lightweight Title when she won, but she just couldn’t bring herself to sweat a putz named Cherry Bomb, especially not after the humiliation that she’d doled out at Thanksgrieving. And with it being a Falls Count Anywhere match, well, the goofy little beeyotch was already beaten, even if she didn’t know it yet. Staking the center of the ring by rights as a future Hall of Famer, Daniel pointed a finger at the masked woman, then redirected it to a spot on the canvas directly in front of her. With a brisk snap of her fingers, she said, “You. Here. Knees. Now. Kiss my feet fast enough and I’ll finish you off quicker than you deserve.”
Cherry had worked diligently to put the embarrassing November loss out of her mind, but the Imp’s smirk brought it all back in a hot, humiliating rush. Forcing herself to move far slower than she wanted, the Bomb strode out of her corner and stopped on the spot Chrissy had indicated.
Pleased by the mostly prompt reply, Daniel tapped her foot against the mat and said, “I believe I said, ‘knees’, putz. Don’t make me tell you twiCCCNNNNGGGHH!”
Cherry put the veteran’s head on a swivel courtesy of a ringing Bytch Slap, then chested in as hard as she could and muttered, “I’m only gonna say this once, so I hope your Miracle Ear is turned all the way up, Chrissy. You want to beat me? Then you’ll have to BEAT me. Talking may have beat the other dinosaurs, but me? I’m a comet. And everyone knows what happens when dinosaurs and comets partNNNNGGGHHH!”
Chrissy backhanded her across the mouth and followed up with a shove for good measure. Infuriated by the show of defiance, Daniel stormed in for a second push, then added, “Do you know who I am, putz? I’ve been selling out arenas for more than a decade! Who are you? You’re nothing! Sharing a ring with me is the biggest moment of your life, so when I say get on your knees to thank me, you better damned well get on your knEESSSSRRGGH!”
Cherry shoved her right back, then left her feet in a low hop and blasted them forward for an equally low flying Dropkick. But whereas most examples of that particular maneuver were aimed at the recipient’s knees or thighs, the Bomb aimed her heels between the later, a blatant Low Blow that surprised the whole arena and Chrissy in particular.
“Hey now!” Craig Long called out as Daniel doubled over in gut-shot anguish. “Watch where you’re putting those boots, Cherry!”
Cherry, who’d turned around and stalked to her corner after the Dropkick, didn’t answer but she must’ve been listening because the admonition was barely out of the ref’s mouth when she whirled and raced straight at the stunned Beach Cat. Jumping ever so slightly she flicked up her right leg and THWHACKED Daniel between the eyes with a note-perfect Bakatare Sliding Kick. Already weakened by the surprise Dropkick, Chrissy flew up, back and down, the fireplug battler landing painfully on the back of her head and shoulders.
BACKATARE SLIDING KICK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=aQJco2gvjqs
Most women of any size would’ve stayed down after such a pair of forceful strikes, but Chrissy Daniel was the textbook definition of fireplug and she somersaulted backward onto her knees before slowly rising to her feet. “You… stupid bytch,” she grunted, “you have no idea what I’m going to do to UUUGGGHHH!”
Cherry charged, reared back with her left forearm and PWAAAKED it against the side of Daniel’s skull. Piling on more and more Forearm Smashes even before her feet touched the ground, the Bomb marched Chrissy to an empty corner and continued to apply shellac until Craig hurried over and pulled her off. “What’s gotten into you, Cherry? You know you can’t--”
“The hell I can’t!” she spat. “Falls count anywhere is no disqualification by its very definition, so I’m going to treat this tub of guts as shabbily as she treated me at Thanksgrieving!”
Dimly aware of what the ticked off tyro had said, Chrissy took a few steps out of the corner and pointed an accusatory finger. “Keep her back! That punk’s a gutless cheat and I won’t OOOOFFFHHH!”
The Roseate Rocket charged, leapt and slammed her feet into Chrissy’s tits with a Front Dropkick so powerful it blasted the former World Champion off her feet and BWUUUNGED her spine-first against the buckles. Even then Daniel didn’t go down, as she managed to hook an arm over the top rope just long enough to get both feet underneath her.
JOHN WOO DROPKICK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=6L_GWlsZfh8
Eager to make Chrissy pay for that demoralizing face grinder, Cherry stomped in, doubled over and grabbed the middle rope in both hands. Rearing back on her heels, she dove forward and plowed the point of her left shoulder into the undefended expanse of the Imp’s tummy. Four more followed in rapid succession before the Bomb abruptly pulled away. This wasn’t a cessation of hostilities, but merely a strategic repositioning as Cherry executed a par of back handsprings that took her to just shy of center ring. On the move as soon as she touched down, Cherry rushed back the way she’d came and launched herself into a THWHUMPING short range Spear that would’ve folded Chrissy in half if she hadn’t been smudged against the corner.
With nowhere else to go, Daniel crumpled against Cherry’s back, where she would’ve stayed if the masked marvel hadn’t straightened up. “Funny how one cheap shot can change the whole complexion of a fight, isn’t it?” She didn’t wait for an answer, she just wedged one knee between the blonde’s thighs and thumped her undercarriage for the second time that night. Chrissy moaned and tried to reach for her crotch but Cherry slapped her hand away. “I wonder,” she purred, her voice quiet and mean, “would you be a multi-time champion or a future Hall of Famer or ANYTHING, if the girls you fought were allowed to fight as dirty as you?”
Daniel started to answer (or at least mutter something) but the Roseate Rocket was in no mood to listen so she grabbed a double handful of hair and BWUUUNGED the back of her head against the top turnbuckle. Nearby, Craig Long waited as long as he felt comfortable before clearing his throat quite loudly. “All right, Cherry. It might be Falls Count Anywhere but that doesn’t mean you can keep her in the corner all night. Get her out of there.”
Cherry thought about giving him another piece of her mind, then decided against it. “You’re right, Craig.” she agreed after grabbing a big handful of hair. “I’m not going to let this corner have all the fun when there are three more to play with!”
Tightening her hold on the blonde’s roots, Cherry started down the ropes with Chrissy in tow and built up a solid head of steam before she bounced the Beach Cat’s noggin off the waiting turnbuckle. The FAWNatics, who’d gotten over the Bomb’s unexpected aggression well before the official, cheered that much louder when Cherry pointed to the next corner and called, “SHOULD I?” They replied in the affirmative a thousand times over, so the Crimson Comet charged to corner number three and introduced it to Chrissy’s skull at a dangerous rate of speed. It was then that the Imp’s legendary legs finally gave way, unfortunately the vengeful masked woman scraped her up after less than two seconds of downtime. “Not quite bed time yet, Shrimp.” Cherry growled, throwing the veteran’s Thanksgrieving taunt in her face. “There’s still one more corner that wants to kiss you good night.”
Daniel managed to throw a woozy punch into the tenacious tyro’s tummy, unfortunately it wasn’t nearly enough to keep Cherry Bomb from racing to the last corner and BWUUUNGING her head against the buckles as hard as she could. Chrissy’s knees gave way again, so the Girl That Gravity Forgot turned her around and wedged her in against the buckles. Rather than go for yet more Shoulderblocks she ‘hupped’ the Imp to a seat on the top buckle and promptly pasted an open-handed Slap across one cheek to make sure she’d stay in place.
Chrissy reeled a bit but otherwise did as expected, so the Bomb turned around and jogged to mid-ring before pulling a one-eighty and racing back the way she’d came. Springing from the mat to the top rope in a single bound, Cherry planted her left foot on the top strand and whipped her right leg up n’ around to THWHACK a huge Enzuigiri off the side of her foe’s skull. Daniel shuddered, tried to grab hold of the ropes and missed, sending her plummeting to the mat with a dull thud.
TOP ROPE ENZUIGIRI:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=qgy9KOWc8tc
Pinpoint as it had been, the fireplug blonde retained more than a little of her preternatural ring awareness because she immediately barrel rolled under the bottom rope to the floor below.
Cherry scrambled after her on all fours, even going so far as to reach through the ropes until she remembered it didn’t matter if Daniel had bailed, tonight there was no place for her to hide. Smacking the mat with both hands, the Bomb popped to boot leather and called, “C’mon Chrissy, get’cher tubby little ass up! We’re just getting started!”
Out on the floor, Daniel put a hand to the back of her head and struggled to one knee. Casting a baleful glance up at the ring, she growled, “Keep running your mouth, putz. Sooner or later I’m gonna stuff it with my bo--” Cherry wheeled around, hit the ropes on the far side of the ring and was streaking toward the Beach Cat at top speed. Chrissy wanted absolutely nothing to do with the Maroon Meteor so she threw herself backward against the barrier just as Cherry was taking flight.
At least, she THOUGHT Cherry was taking flight. While she did in fact leave her feet and soar over the top rope, the masked woman hooked it in both hands as she passed by and used it to whip herself back into the ring, a stylish little fake out that earned a cheer from the FAWNatics and a curse from Daniel. On her feet in an instant, the fireplug blonde jabbed a finger at her rival and snarled, “What the fahk do you think this is putz, a gymnastics meet? You wanna fight? Get your ass out here and FIGHT!”
Cherry considered it for all of a second before hopping over the ropes to the apron. “I’m more than ready to fight, Shrimp. But you? Seems you don’t wanna fight unless my back is turned. So let me make it easy for you.” With that she turned her back and raised both hands, a brazen show of bravery or disrespect, depending on one’s view.
Chrissy took it as the latter, which explained why she stormed across the narrow aisle and THWHAP! The Interstellar Angel flicked her right foot back and caught Daniel in the chops with a sharp little kick. Glancing over her shoulder to check distances, the Bomb was pleased to see Chrissy had stumbled back to within a few paces of the guardrail. That was more than enough room to work with so she leapt to the top rope, dropped into a deep crouch and slung herself into a soaring back flip that would’ve made a flawless Asai Moonsault IF Chrissy hadn’t caught her atop one shoulder.
Wrapping one arm around Cherry’s lower back, she cupped her other hand against the base of her foe’s neck and charged toward the nearest cornBWUUUNK! The crown of Cherry’s skull bounced off the steel post and she flopped to the floor in a twitching heap, looking far much more like a spent firework than FAWN’s shooting star.
Never one to draw it out unless it was in her best interests (or bringing her great pleasure) Daniel dropped across the brunette’s chest in a miniature Splash and drew both legs into a tight bundle. Craig, who hadn’t expected the tide to turn so suddenly, was still inside the ring so it took him a half second longer to get to the floor than he would’ve liked. Even so, the collision was only a few seconds old when he slapped the mat…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOO!
Cherry shoved loose and turned onto one side with all of a whisper between herself and defeat. Chrissy reared back on her haunches and would’ve smacked the putz if he hadn’t drawn out of range a split second prior. “From now on I want your punk ass as close to this action as possible, do I make myself clear, asshole?”
“Hey! I got out here damned fast, there’s no need for that!” Long replied.
“There’s no need for it RIGHT NOW.” Chrissy corrected him. “If I see you out of position one more time though, we’re going to have a problem.” Long didn’t bother to answer, so Daniel helped herself to a double handful of the smaller woman’s ponytail and scraped her off the floor. “Not so tough when things slow down, are you putz?” the words were still on her lips when she lowered a shoulder to Cherry’s midsection and drove her spine-first into the apron with a low THWHUNK!
The Bomb’s back curved in a violent arch and she would’ve dropped to her knees if the Beach Cat hadn’t helped keep her vertical. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re just like any other housefly. You can stick and move like nobody’s business until SPLAT!” Chrissy grabbed Cherry by the scruff of the neck, charged across the narrow aisle and THWHUMPED her prey into a gut-first landing across the steel barrier.
Robbed of all but the shallowest of breaths, Cherry would’ve toppled into the laps of some front row fans if Daniel hadn’t reached out and snatched a handful of trunks. “The fly swatter comes down and then you’re nothing but a disgusting grease spot.” Reeling the winded woman off the unforgiving steel, Chrissy hooked her left arm over the Bomb’s left shoulder, then reached through her legs and palmed a rough handful of trunks. Then she dipped her knees and popped her hips to take Cherry up, over and DOWN onto her face, chest and belly courtesy of a nauseating Inverted Power Slam.
INVERTED POWER SLAM:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=iIPcBXAX7gw
The Bomb shuddered and tried to roll over, but Chrissy put a knee against the back of her neck and leaned down, forcing the pinned battler to inspect the thin blue mats from far closer than she would’ve liked. Curling her hand around Cherry’s ponytail for a second time, Chrissy pulled up, putting an unpleasant kink in the grounded woman’s neck.
“Give it up right now, bytch.” she demanded. “Or I’ll use the steps to scrape that ugly ass mask off your face.”
The Crimson Comet reached up, grabbed hold of Daniel’s wrist and tried to prize the talon from her hair with no noticeable success. “Duuuhhhh…. don’t be jealous of the mask, Chrissy. If you want I can ask around, see if anyone makes them in troll sizZUUUUNNNNNNGGHHHH!”
Chrissy put one hand against the Bomb’s back, another between her shoulders and pushed up into a perfect headstand. Didn’t last long but then again it didn’t have to, as the Killer Imp swung down and THWHUMPED both knees into her prey’s lower back. From there she swung a leg over and settled into a deep mount, the curve of her buttocks snuggling nicely into the hollow of Cherry’s abused vertebrae. “You wanna mouth off? Go ahead and mouth off. I wonder if you’ll smarten up in time to keep yourself out of a wheelchair?”
It was a valid concern considering all the punishment Cherry’s spine had absorbed and it grew all the more salient when the Beach Cat grabbed the brunette’s biceps and angled them back over her biceps to secure most of a Camel Clutch. But rather than cup her foe’s chin as was standard, Chrissy took the smaller woman’s ponytail and pulled it across her throat like some sort of traitorous built-in garrote. “See that?” she cooed while using the masked marvel’s own hair to strangle her. “Even your hair knows you can’t win. That’s why it’s helping me take you out. Probably hoping I won’t shear it off when I take that damned mask.”
With both hands digging at the follicular noose, Cherry didn’t bother to waste a breath on ‘no’ when the ref asked if she wanted to give, she just shook her head as best she could, which wasn’t very much, admittedly. The silent, gutsy response wasn’t much to Chrissy’s liking, so she yaaaaaaaaanked on Cherry’s hair all the harder and jostled her head up n’ down in search of a bawling surrender. “Give it up, putz!” she snarled at the sputtering, presumably red-faced grappler.
But the Bomb wouldn’t be defused, she only coughed out a ‘no’ and kept squirming her arms in hopes of wrenching them loose. She managed to do so after several hellish seconds and immediately set about trying to free herself from the Imp’s noose. Of course that tactic was in direct opposition to Daniel’s, who was growing more irritated with the brunette’s resistance by the second. Deciding that it was time to screw finesse, she tossed Cherry’s ponytail aside and settled for clamping one hand around thy tyro’s neck.
That was more than enough for Craig, as he’d only tolerated the previous stranglehold by the slimmest of margins. “All right, enough of that shyt, Chrissy! Falls count anywhere doesn’t mean I’m gonna let you choke her out like that!”
Daniel almost sassed him, but decided against it. As an alternative shoe of disrespect she grabbed the Bomb’s shoulders and wrenched up, which earned a sharp cry of pain from her captive. Said cry was still issuing forth when the former FAWN World Champion tossed Cherry down, THWHUMPING her face and chest into the barely-padded floor.
“This guy’s running his mouth, acting like keeping me off your throat is actually a good thing.” Chrissy murmured to the vulnerable lass as she coiled another length of ponytail around her fist. Once she’d hauled the Bomb to her feet, she started toward the steps and resumed her monologue. “It’s not though. Throttling you senseless was the best thing that could’ve happened to you. Now that he tells me I cant, well, I’m just going to have to get a lot nastier.”
Having arrived at the base of the steps, Chrissy quickly made her way to the top with Cherry trailing raggedly behind. Daniel shifted to one side to make sure that her prey could take her spot on the top step, but that’s where the courtesy ended as she quickly stuffed Cherry’s head under her left arm in a Front Facelock. From there she helped herself to a handful of trunks and muscled the Bomb from verticality to high noon in the blink of an eye. An impressive show of strength to be sure and one that grew all the more impressive as Daniel let the stall spin out. Powerless to do otherwise, the FAWNatics counted off each and every tick of the Doomsday Clock.
‘ONE… TWO… THREE… FOUR… FIVE… SIX… SEVEN… EIGHT… NINE… TENOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH!
Chrissy sidled to the edge of the steps, then let loose of Cherry’s waistband and let the flyweight fall into place across her chest even as the Beach Cat dropped from the steps to the floor. Now, a Jackhammer was already unpleasant enough, but factor in the barely-padded concrete AND a fall of seven or more feet thrown on top and you can understand why the crowd was quick to toss out ‘HOLY SHIT!’ The landing wasn’t the greatest on Chrissy’s knees, but it was a small price to pay for crushing the Bomb like a cockroach. Hooking the far leg even though she thought it patently unnecessary, the Imp pulled it up high and beamed while Long counted…
JACKHAMMER (sans steps) @ 00:48
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_3eArKxVJf8
ONE!
TWO!!
THRNOOOO!!!
Cherry wrenched her leg free and shot a hand into the air to save her title aspirations with a half second to spare. Chrissy on the other hand wasn’t thinking about anything except how the little shyt had found the wherewithal to kick out. Raking a hand through her hair did nothing to soothe her nerves so she snatched hold of the Bomb’s head in both hands and scraped her off the mat. Shifting one hand to the smaller woman’s waistband, Daniel rushed toward the beckoning steps and hurled Cherry at them, the Bomb launched with so much force she pulled off a half somersault in mid-air before BWUUUNGING against the side. The steps toppled to one side while Cherry collapsed into a sprawled matchbook, the perfect sacrifice for a Killer Imp.
Yet Chrissy didn’t approach for a cover, in fact her attention wasn’t even focused on the suffering pile of girl-flesh. Rather it was honed in on the floor mats and more specifically, the seams that held them together. Following a moment’s thought she dropped to one knee and worked her fingers into the crease between two mats. It took a little doing but once she had a good grip it didn’t take Daniel long to peel back the protective barrier, thus exposing the matte gray concrete beneath.
Craig Long didn’t care for this development in the slightest, especially when the Beach Cat stalked back to Cherry and helped herself to a huge handful of ponytail. “What, uhhhh, what do you think you’re doing, Chrissy?”
He asked, even though it was patently obvious that the blonde had ill on her mind. Chrissy was well within her rights to scoff at such a foolish question, but she actually flashed him a wicked smile once she’d led Cherry to the bare patch. “Why, I’m putting this putz out of her misery. And mine.”
A Toe Kick to the navel doubled Cherry over and a simple tug wedged her head between the veteran’s thighs. With the Bomb forced to look down at the implement of her destruction, Chrissy patted her defenseless tush a few times, then hooked a handful of trunks and yanked them several inches north. Cherry screeched and tried to wriggle free, but Daniel only squeezed a bit tighter and THWHACKED a few clubbing Forearm Smashes into her back for good measure. When the resistance subsided, she leaned forward and wrapped both arms around the brunette’s slim waist. “Don’t worry, I won’t let too much blood get on your mask.” she reassured the hapless battler. “After all, I’m going to need a clean rag to keep the Lightweight Championship nice and shiny.”
Intentions made clear, she bent her knees and hoisted Cherry upside down for-- relieved cheers from those assembled when the Bomb kicked her feet hard enough to return them to the floor. “Too late for that, putz.” Chrissy grunted. “You’ve got a date with a concussion test.” She pounded a few more Forearm Smashes across the ingenue’s back, then resumed the Waistlock that much tighter than prior. From there she whipped Cherry up, not for a Piledriver, but all the way onto her shoulders for a Powerbomb.
The FAWNatics were just starting to avert their gaze when the Crimson Comet locked both hands behind Daniel’s head and slipped free of her perch. Landing tush first on a concrete floor wasn’t the Bomb’s idea of a pleasant landing, yet it was infinitely better than Chrissy’s faceplant, considering the sick way her forehead THWHUNKED against the rough floor.
OUCHIES:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jan2ifPuSAg
The Imp bounced and rolled, albeit not very far, one simply did not shrug off a desperation Facebuster, even when one was built like a fireplug. Beside her, Cherry Bomb flopped back and simply looked up at the lights, willing herself back into the match while making a running tally of her aches and pains. The complete list didn’t look too good but the Maroon Meteor was certain she could go-- Chrissy pushed to all fours and started to crawl away in hopes of putting some distance between them. The Bomb forced herself to sit up but did no more than watch until Daniel clambered to boot leather and hauled herself onto the apron.
Angry at the idea of Chrissy running back to the ring as soon as things got too rough, Cherry stood up and sidled up against the apron without actually hopping aboard. ‘HEY!” she called to the penitent veteran. “Where do you think you’re going… putz?”
Chrissy, who had one arm hooked over the middle rope to make sure she didn’t lose her balance, looked up and growled, “Open your mouth again and I’ll HEY NNNNNGGGGGGHHHH!”
Cherry sprinted down the aisle, sprang into the air and clasped her hands tight across the back of the busty blonde’s neck. Then she yanked back and dropped to the floor while Chrissy’s aching pate THWHUNKED against the apron in a beautifully improvised Reverse STO. The Beach Cat shuddered violently but went still the instant she hit the floor. No rest for the wicked though, Cherry immediately pulled the dazed blonde away from the possibly sheltering confines of the apron and stretched out across her chest. Long dropped to one knee, checked Daniel’s shoulders and tolled off…
REVERSE STO ON THE APRON:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=lxer_2Ya2Pg
ONE!
TWO!!
THRNOOO!!!
Chrissy shoved the Bomb away and struggled to one knee. Her kick-out may have kept the match alive but Chrissy herself was in critical condition, with one hand braced against the floor like a kickstand and the other pressed tight to her throbbing forehead. As such, she didn’t notice when the Crimson Comet popped to her feet and sprinted to the far end of that narrow, dangerous alley.
Wheeling around without so much as a word for the fans, Cherry reversed course at top speed and closed the gap in mere heartbeats. Unaware of trouble until she felt the pounding drumbeat of the putz’s boots, Daniel looked up at the precise moment Cherry hopped onto her posted right knee. THWHONK! The Bomb slammed her own right knee between Chrissy’s eyes, a righteous tribute to the original Shining Wizard that sent the veteran slopping to her back like a bag of laundry. Landing beside her foe, Cherry hooked the near leg and cranked it tight as the ref counted…
CHERRY WIZARD @ 1:22
www.youtube.com/watch?v=DbH6uBOksJE
ONE!
TWO!!
THRNOOOO!!!
The Killer Imp kicked out for the second time in less than a minute, astounding Cherry and the FAWNatics alike. “Ok, so you haven’t gone soft in your golden years, that’s good.” the Bomb huffed. “Means it’ll be all the more impressive when I beat GRRRRRRHHHHHH BYTCH!”
Down though she may be, Chrissy Daniel was far from defenseless, as everyone learned when she darted out her right hand and grabbed hold of the youngster’s crotch. While it lacked the usual bear trap power of her usual grip, it still shut the masked loser up long enough for Chrissy to sneer, “Here’s the thing, putz. You’re NOT going to beat me. One fluke is all ya geNNGGHH!”
Cherry earned her brawlin’ bona fides when she palmed the blonde’s head in both hands, yanked it up and bounced it right back down. Woozy all over again, Daniel could only groan curses while the brunette yanked her upright via a double handful of hair. “That was no fluke, sweetie.” Cherry growled as they made their way around the steel steps on their way to the other side of the ring. “I flattened your tubby little ass once and that’s what I’m going to do tonight, even if they have to scrape you up with a spatula!”
She punctuated this bold prophecy by rushing the next post and BWUUUNKING Chrissy’s forehead into the thick, unadorned steel. Daniel’s legs went watery and she started to sink, so the Bomb grabbed her by togs and tresses and pulled up until she was steady again. Then she switched over to a Side Headlock for better control and rounded the corner to finish the journey which lead to the Commentator’s Table.
The Interstellar Angel caught Joanna’s eye and motioned for her to clear the stuff off the tabletop. Coleman shook her head ‘no’ at first, but quickly changed her tune when Cherry scooped the Imp into a makeshift Body Slam. Tromping into Joanna and Gordy’s domain, she flashed them both a smile before depositing Chrissy on the tabletop. Once the spread was properly prepared, Cherry honed in on Solis and waggled an index finger in his general direction. “I don’t wanna catch you sneaking anything before I’ve had a taste, got me, Gordy? There’ll be plenty of Shrimp to go around, even after I’ve had my fill.”
Gordy couldn’t think of a single smart remark, so the Bomb scurried across the aisle, hopped onto the apron and sped to the nearest corner. The crowd, which had been buzzing ever since Chrissy’s head cracked off the concrete, rose with Cherry Bomb as she got her balance up there in the high rent district. Looking out into the sea of faces and flashbulbs, the Girl That Gravity shrugged, then grinned from ear to ear. “I’m just gonna say it.” Both hands went to her mouth just before she roared, “SENSATIONAL!” With tribute paid (or was that ‘challenge issued‘?) Cherry soared out into the void, her augmented arc giving the tyro more than enough time to swing both legs up to waist level.
Chrissy on the other hand didn’t have time to do anything but watch Cherry occupy more and more of her field of vision. She was still watching when the back of the Bomb’s right thigh came down atop her face. There was a sweaty THWHUMP followed by a sharp CRAAACK and finally an echoing THUD as both women landed amidst the wreckage of what was once a fine table.
Perfect though her execution may have been, no landing on one’s tailbone was painless, especially one from a more than respectable height. Hands pressed tight to her aching tush, Cherry Bomb inspected the damage until she was satisfied nothing had broken, chipped or otherwise fractured. The delay was less than five seconds, certainly not long enough for Chrissy to sit up, let alone defend against the Lateral Press and subsequent…
ONE!
TWO!!
THRENOOOOOOOO!!!
Daniel didn’t so much kick out as she did slide onto her side. Even so, it got her shoulder off the floor and delayed Cherry’s number one contender aspirations yet again. Seeming even more wide-eyed than could be accounted for by the mask, Cherry ran her hands along the curve of her skull, apparently trying to soothe her nerves. It must’ve worked because rather than question the ref’s count, she grabbed Chrissy by trunks ‘n tresses and hauled her clear of the rubble.
“Played your game long enough, Shrimp.” she explained. “Time we played mine again.”
Getting Daniel onto the apron took a little bit more doing than usual but once she was under the bottom rope a few good shoves got her rolling toward the center of the ring. Cherry climbed onto the apron, then scrambled over to the corner and climbed to the top floor yet again.
Once Chrissy slowed to a wheezing, spasmodic stop, the Maroon Meteor swung around in a half circle and stood up straight. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed the Killer Imp’s general state of flatness, so Cherry dropped into a deep crouch and launched herself back into the aether with a breathtaking Moonsault. The masked woman seemed to hang near the apex of her arc, which certainly explained how Daniel found the time to roll clear of the blast zone. Of course it also explained how the Bomb adjusted in mid-air and landed on her feet inches away from the prone veteran. No sooner had she touched down did Cherry spring into another Moonsault, one just as pretty, albeit not so high. Such a shame then that the blonde pulled her knees up against her chest, thus ensuring a most unpleasant landing.
Roaring to boot-leather in true horror movie fashion, a hollow eyed, bloodthirsty Beach Cat pounced on a retreating Cherry and whirled her around into a Front Facelock. Just like that she snapped back and down to THWHUNK the crown of her prey’s skull into the mat with an Evenflow DDT. Cherry flopped onto her back and Chrissy was right there to sprawl across her chest. Then she hooked both legs, bundled ‘em up tight and mouthed, ‘Fuck you, putz’ to the closest camera as the ref counted…
FLOWING DDT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=wkeA4bLnc6Q
ONE!
TWO!!
THRNOOOO!!!
The Interstellar Angel fought loose and the FAWNatics allowed themselves the luxury of an exhalation. Astounded and infuriated in equal measure, Chrissy almost reached for Long’s neck before shifting course to claim Cherry’s ponytail as her own. “Had yourself a good run there, bytch.” Chrissy admitted as she pulled her victim to all fours. “There’s not too many chicks on this roster who can say they put me through a table and now you’re one of ‘em. Tables don’t win titles though. And I’m afraid all your championship dreams are about to… Implode.”
With that she situated herself behind the masked woman and leaned down to wrap her arms around Cherry’s waist. Grunting slightly, Daniel hoisted the Bomb up Wheelbarrow-style and held her against her chest, all the better to slip her right hand under Cherry’s right bicep in a Half Nelson. The crowd roared for their heroine to find a way out, knowing that the Implosion was the sort of move that meant the recipient left on a stretcher. Alas, their entreaties fell on deaf (or at least dulled) ears as Cherry hung limp and ragged even when Chrissy pushed onto her tiptoes and reared back to the very limits of balance. A heartbeat passed before she swung the Bomb forward and down while simultaneously sitting out, a potent combination that THWAHAMMED the hapless flyweight flush on the back of her head and shoulders. Folded into a gawdawful matchbook by the Imp’s favorite kill shot, Cherry didn’t so much as groan through the…
IMPLOSION:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=lUNCJdhI-A8
ONE!
TWO!!
THRENOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
The Crimson Comet slipped an arm out from under Chrissy’s encroaching stems and turned onto her side within a whisper of the three count. Openly gaping in the wake of her foe’s narrow escape, Chrissy finally gathered her wits and a hellaciously bad attitude to go with them. “ARE YOU FAHKING KIDDING ME?” she roared at an equally incredulous Craig Long. “THAT WAS THREE! NO WAY SOME PISSANT LITTLE PIPSQUEAK BEATS THAT COUNT!”
Craig thought much the same (albeit in nicer terms) but he knew he’d been in position and the count delivered at proper speed so all he did was shrug. “I don’t know what to tell you, Chrissy. It was way more than two but it wasn’t quite three.”
Daniel shook her head in disgust. I’m going to end her career and that’s on you.”
Quick to act on this threat, the Beach Cat scraped Cherry off the mat and marched her near dead weight to the closest corner. The brunette’s wooziness made maneuvering her into a seat on the top buckle more difficult than she would’ve liked, but there was nothing in the way of active resistance, which pleased her very much. Once Cherry was properly perched, she climbed onto the second rope and took the youngster’s head in both hands. “Know what? I’m going to take your mask now, putz. There’s no way I could get the bloodstains out if I took it aftEROOOOOFFFHHHHHHH!”
Cherry wrenched loose and spiked the crown of her skull deep into the pit of Daniel’s belly. A second Headbutt had Chrissy doubled up directly above her, so the Bomb straightened up fast to drive the back of her noggin into the point of Chrissy’s chin. Suddenly un-tethered from her opposition, Chrissy windmilled her arms wildly and managed to clamp onto the brunette’s shoulder.
“Nuuuhhhh…. nice try, putz.” she rasped. “But if I go down you’re going with UUUUUNNNNNNGGGGGGGH!”
Cherry pounded a short, merciless Uppercut into the blonde’s crotch, payback with interest for the humiliation she’d suffered after their second match. That was more than enough to turn Chrissy’s grip to water, so the Bomb put a hand on tummy and chin and pushed, sending the crippled battler to the mat in a gut-shot heap. Struggling to stand on rickety legs, the Maroon Meteor caught her balance and pointed a pair of index fingers at the grappler spattered far below. Then she crooked her thumbs and jerked her wrists up, two identical shots that earned a BANG! from the redlining FAWNatics.
Their collective pulse raced all the harder when Cherry leapt and hurled herself into a head-first front flip whilst twirling like a pissed off gyroscope. As perfect with their timing as ever, the crowd roared KA-BOOOOOOOOOOM! when the Bomb landed full force atop Chrissy’s heaving tummy. The Beach Cat shuddered like she’d been hit by a defibrillator, then fell still when Cherry slung a leg over her body and planted her tush firmly on the Imp’s chest. Right leg hooked under her arm in a glorious half Matchbook, Cherry raised her other hand high overhead and helped toll off the….
CHERRY WARHEAD:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=jKhFpUOWefc
ONE!
TWO!!
THRENOOOOOOOO!!!
The Beach Cat shrugged her off at the last possible moment, lending serious credence to the locker room gossip about her nine lives. But whereas Daniel had wasted precious seconds arguing with the official, Cherry Bomb smacked her palms against the mat once, then went back on the attack. Hauling the wheezing blonde to her feet with a double handful of hair, the Interstellar Angel traded it in for a Wristlock on Chrissy’s left wrist, all the better to twist her arm in a smooth circle. From there she sidled into place on Daniel’s left side and reached across the blonde’s back with her right hand to hook her right arm. Then she dipped down and leaned forward, muscling the other woman up across her back in something like a Torture Rack. Switching her left hand to a hold on Chrissy’s ankles, Cherry folded them over one another in a compressed ‘X’ and craaaaaaaaaaaaanked forward on them and the captured arm.
“Like my new move, Chrissy?” the Bomb growled through gritted teeth. “What say we take it for a spin?”
LA REINERA:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nz7XaVmJRfs
She proceeded to do exactly that, hurling the both of them into an Airplane Spin twirl that not only disoriented, but exacerbated the pain in Daniel’s spine and tummy as well. Cherry maintained the spin cycle for about ten seconds, then stamped on the brakes and started bouncing up and down, each and every movement bending Chrissy into a torturous ‘C’ curve. “Ready to give, Shrimp?” Cherry bellowed at the squealing blonde. “Or maybe I should ask, are you ready for me to tuck you in?”
The Killer Imp shook her head frantically ‘no’ even though it felt she could come apart at the seams at any moment. “FAHK YOU PUTZ! I’M CHRISSY BY GAWD DANIEL, I DON’T GIVE UP TO AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Cherry threw herself into a tawny red, white ‘n black cyclone and this time she didn’t slow down, in fact she increased the pace of her revolutions until-- the bell CLANGED and Craig was tapping on her shoulder. “Let her go, Cherry! She gave it up!”
The Bomb ground to a twitchy stop, but she didn’t release her hold. Rather she WRENCHED down on both ends and bounced all the harder. “I DON’T CARE IF YOU GIVE, BYTCH!” she shouted at the blonde, “I WANNA KNOW IF YOU QUIT!”
“AAAAAAGGGGHHHHHH FAAAAAAAHHHHHK YOOOOOOU PUTZ!” Daniel yowled. “JUST LEMME GO, YOU ALREADY WOOOOONNNN AAAAIIIIEEEEEEE I QUIT! I QUIT! I FAHKIN’ QUIT!”
Cherry gave Chrissy a final yank, then let loose and stepped away, leaving the beaten blonde to hit the mat in an exhausted, bawling heap. Not quite through her fightin’ rage yet, Cherry couldn’t stop stalking around the ring while the Announcer called, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via submission… CHERRY BOMB!”
The Girl That Gravity Forgot finally threw up a pair of fists to acknowledge the ovation from the sold out crowd. After a moment more she stomped back to Chrissy and planted a boot on the Imp’s belly and pressed down. But when she spoke, it wasn’t to the Imp. Rather it was into the mic she’d gestured for a moment prior.
“POLLY LOCKWOOD! I’m through waiting for you, short-stuff! So I’ve got an idea. You. Me. Heartbroken. Any match you want. You bring your stars and stripes.” Beneath the curve of her mask, Cherry’s lips curled into a wicked smile. “I’ll bring the rocket’s red glare.”
Certain the prissy little patriot would answer her sooner than later, Cherry dropped the mic and made a point of putting all her weight on Chrissy’s quivering midsection when she set out on the first of many victory laps.