Post by SammieSinclair on Mar 8, 2015 19:32:19 GMT
The stirring guitar of The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus’ ‘You Better Pray’ crashes over 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 ring announcer’s pronouncement only draws the decibels higher.
(“YOU BETTER PRAY”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=y_WxsL5q3I4 )
“The next match is set one fall with a 30-minute time limit and is for the Intercontinental Championship. First…hailing from Iowa City, Iowa… Standing 4 feet 11 inches tall and weighing 117 pounds… The Golden Mite herself…JANEL MANNING!”
Janel Manning...
With the introduction complete, the FAWNatics are made to wait 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 rise, the tiny terror of gymnastic artistry parades down the ramp and aisle.
Manning makes her way to the squared circle without the Icy Mite, Jenny Lewis, the crowd thanking themselves for small favors.
Having reclaimed her bona fides in fine fashion, battering and besting Sammie Sinclair after a year away from the organization, it’s clear the front office has faith in the muscular munchkin that, at the very least, she can put on a show at the top end of the card.
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 around the ring, button nose firmly in the air.
Janel’s familiar flaxen ponytail swishes from one side to the other as she rises up the steps 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 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 spreads her hands across her chiseled tummy. She asks for a microphone and plucks one from the air after a toss from a FAWN flunky.
“You all know I’m always golden!” the Mite shouts, “But tonight I’m going to end the night with an awful lot more of my favorite metal.”
The Golden Mite turns to the upper stage, motioning the champ to come down and take her beating like a woman.
As the Golden Mite settles into her corner, the announcer steps back toward center ring. “And her opponent, the Intercontinental champion...”
Navajo Nation launches to its feet with a roar.
“Hailing from Tempe, Arizona… she stands five feet six inches tall and weighs in this evening at one hundred and twenty-five pounds… She is the one and only Tempe Temptress… JUUULLLIIIEEETTT BLLLOOOOOODDDWWWIIINNNDDD!!!!!!”
Juliet Bloodwind...
(“KILLING IN THE NAME OF”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=vAaLeJ53umE )
To the accompanying sonic assault of Rage Against the Machine's "Killing in the Name Of", Juliet Bloodwind, emerges atop the ramp. The crowd erupts into a supportive roar, happy to see the Tempe Temptress back in action once more. And that roar grows only louder as Navajo Nation recognizes the change in Juliet’s garb:
Namely, that tonight, just as she had done for the last three months, the Tempe Temptress actually sports the *Nubile Navajo’s* garb!
The elder Bloodwind stands clad in a faux deerskin halter, the shoulder straps eventually becoming two thin strings that crisscross her otherwise bare back. She also wears matching bikini bottoms, augmented by for lack of a better term a "half loin cloth" that descends to mid-thigh in the front, and that fails to obscure the view of her derriere in the back--Juliet’s rear view not particularly overshadowed by the woman who normally wore this gear. Ugg boots molded to resemble moccasins adorn her feet, and the Intercontinental title replaces Nyssa’s Lightweight strap to complete the ensemble.
The Tempe Temptress exudes a flirtatious confidence as she struts down the steel toward the ring. The pigtailed Juliet slaps hands with the fans sitting along the ramp, Bloodwind arches a wry eyebrow at this sight of one sign: “JANEL’S IN FOR A MIGHTY SQUISHING!” Another fan waves a sign that had almost become a fixture, reading: "CONSIDER ME TEMPTED, TEMPE TEMPTRESS!"
And for the sentiment, as always, he is rewarded with a hug and a quick peck on the cheek. Bloodwind makes a complete circuit around the ring, continuing to press the flesh with the assembled fans. Her lap completed, Juliet moves quickly toward the ring, gracefully hopping onto the apron. With her back to the ropes, Juliet casts a quick glance over her shoulder at the official and the announcer before draping her arms over the top rope. The nubile Native American gives a suggestive wiggle of her hips before leaning backward, flipping herself over the top rope and landing on her feet inside the ring, Navajo Nation roaring its approval while Bloodwind hands her strap to the official, then moves to limber up in her corner.
Juliet had already defended this belt against bigger women, more experienced women... but only a fool would look past Janel Manning. She might be lacking in stature, but having met the Golden Mite in the ring when she and Nyssa had possessed the tag team titles, she knew just how much power Manning’s compact form deceptively held, in addition to her agility and Olympian conditioning. Yes, Janel might be the smallest woman she had defended against...
... but she might STILL be the Tempe Temptress’ biggest challenge to date.
And she might be the most aggressive as well as Manning barrels out of her corner before the klaxon call of the bell, a pink flash charging across the ring like she's racing toward a gold medal vault. But the Mite keeps her feet on the canvas, lowering a shoulder, apparently determined to take the fight to Bloodwind in her own buckles, whatever way that may come.
Janel is quick, but Juliet still might have been able to evade the former gymnast's charge... if she hadn't been in the process of passing her title belt through the ropes and into the hands of a ringside staffer. As it is, Bloodwind barely has time to turn her back to the buckles, so that her abs take the brunt of Manning's impaling shoulder rather than her more vulnerable flank. "OOOOOOPPPPHHHHHH!!!!!!" the Tempe Temptress gasps, momentarily folding across Janel's back. And the challenger doesn't relent, gripping the middle rope with both hands and withdrawing juuust enough to RAM her shoulder into Bloodwind's belly a second time, and then a third.
"Let her out of the corner, Janel!" the official barks, more concerned with getting Manning off the champion than calling for the bell.
"Do your job! Start the match," Janel squeaks in the somewhat mousy voice that betrayed her demeanor and physicality.
"No. Let her out," the ref insists, adding a count behind the demand, Janel stuffing in a stubby knee to Juliet's gut before backing off at FOUR hands raised.
"Start...the...damn...match," the Mite barks.
The official turns to a gasping Bloodwind. "You OK, Juliet? You ready?"
Bloodwind's tush rests atop the middle turnbuckle as the Tempe Temptress slumps forward, one arm hugging her battered midsection. Her other hand clutches the top rope for a little extra stability. Juliet's chest heaves with each painful inhale, but the reigning and defending Intercontinental champion gives the referee a small nod. "Ring that bell..." Juliet rasps. "... so I can start kicking her ass!"
A little reluctantly, he signals to the timekeeper, and the familiar toll of the bell echoes through the arena. As it does, Bloodwind pushes away from the corner, lurching toward Janel and attempting to establish a collar and elbow tie up.
Manning feigns responding in kind but slips beneath the outstretched arms of her foe, sliding behind Bloodwind. The vertically challenged Manning raises her arms to slip them under and around those of her counterpart and capture the champ in a full nelson. Halfway toward locking it in, Janel seems to realize she doesn't have the height or wingspan to lace her fingers, at least while her feet are on the ground. Leaping atop Juliet's back, she wraps her muscular legs around Bloodwind's midriff , hoping the boost will allow her to seal off the nelson and rattle Juliet's cage.
There aren't many women in FAWN who can make a legitimate case for having a more feared set of scissors than Ivy Armstrong--but Janel Manning is obviously one of them. The blonde fireplug wraps her gams around Bloodwind's waist and makes short work of crossing her ankles to cinch in the hold. As Janel's fingers start to lace together, the Tempe Temptress immediately realizes the danger she is, and she starts to backpedal toward her corner. Alas, after the work Manning's shoulder had done on her midriff, it just takes one good squeeeeeeeeeze of her thighs to send a quiver through Juliet's stems. Bloodwind falls to a seat, Janel underneath her, both nelson and scissors now locked in.
"How about it, Jules?" the referee asks, knowing full well there's NO way the Tempe Temptress would surrender her title so soon. Sure enough, Juliet shakes her head, her arms straining as she attempts to power out of her human bonds.
In control of the champ, confident Bloodwind can't break her grip, the spandex-sheathed blonde leans back, taking Juliet along for the ride. Janel takes both she and Juliet off their backsides before Manning means to reverse course and force them up, forward then down to bounce Bloodwind's keister as many times as she could manage, giving the Navajo a new name, 'Elk with Bruised Bum'.
Very few people would describe Juliet's "trunk" as "junk-less"... but that padding only serves the Native American beauty for so long. By the third time Bloodwind's backside is SLAMMED down against the unyielding canvas, the Tempe Temptress starts offering yelps. By the sixth, those tiny yips have become full-fledged howls. And as of the TENTH, the Tempe Temptress' eyes are beginning to water. The combination of the nelson and the keister bounces have finally quelled the resistance in Juliet's arms, but the Navajo's feet still attempt to find enough purchase to rock back and push Janel's shoulders to the mat, her Uggs slipping and sliding against the canvas.
Catching Manning napping on her back, Juliet splayed on top, the ponytailed blonde does some pushing on the canvas herself with her bare feet, releasing her scissors so she can scramble out from underneath Juliet and get her shoulders off the canvas. Clambering up to the naked tootsies, Manning beats a still wincing Jules there by a tick. With the Navajo turning toward her, the former gymnast leaps onto the front of Juliet's thighs, her hands wrapping around the back of Bloodwind's neck. Pushing off her makeshift pad, Janel throws her muscular frame away from the champ, but tries to keep her grip in place around Juliet's head and slam Bloodwind's face into the canvas with a monkey flip facebuster.
(MONKEY FLIP FACEBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=BkKMQw70RFE )
In this sport, so much is determined in moments which don't even encompass a full second. When Janel's tootsies land atop Juliet's thighs and Manning's fingers move to clutch her hair, the immediately, nearly involuntary response from the Tempe Temptress is to brace for being launched toward the ceiling. By the time it's clear the Golden Mite has something else in mind, her powerful legs propelling her into the air before Bloodwind, it's too late to counter. The challenger lays out, giving a firm YANK on Juliet's pigtails and SMASHING the Navajo's mug to the mat. Bloodwind tumbles over to her back, limbs splayed, seemingly knocked into next week--and already tonight, Juliet's reign looks to be in jeopardy.
The beaming toothy grin from Manning emerges as she pops to her feet and cartwheels back to the splayed Bloodwind. "Should have stayed with my own shrimpy kind. That's what you were all thinking," Manning shouts. "Screw that lightweight title. First I'm taking this belt, then I'm taking Emily's." Manning dips and sinks her digits into Juliet's raven locks. She yanks Bloodwind to her feet, straightening her up with a substantial European uppercut, Janel's bulging bicep packing a wallop that leaves Juliet tottering. Immediately, Manning takes off for the ropes behind her. The Golden Mite bounds into the cables and races back at the champ, leaping into a crossbody to flatten the squaw and pick up a pinfall.
(CROSSBODY:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=NYTsxkVi124 )
There's a meaty 'THWACK!' of torso striking torso, followed by a gust of an exhale from the Intercontinental champion... but a funny thing happens on the way to Manning's upset victory. Sure enough, Janel's crossbody sends Bloodwind crashing to the deck...
... but she rolls THROUGH the landing, trading places with the Golden Mite. And suddenly, despite Janel's opening dominance, the blonde fireplug finds her shoulders flat against the mat, Juliet reaching to hook both of Manning's muscular thighs.
Again, a surprised Janel's shoulders are pressed tight to the mat and her legs bicycle above her, abbreviated stems pumping away to get her off the deck for...
ONE...
TWO...
... and over the blonde tumbles. She quickly scoots to all fours and locks eyes with Juliet who's there as well. Racing to their feet, Manning's up first and she sends a stubby and quite literal toe kick toward Bloodwind's breadbasket, but Juliet catches the limb, leaving Manning hopping one foot. That's hardly a chore for the former gymnast and she leaps off the remaining lower limb, swinging an enziguiri kick at Juliet's temple.
Only this time, the Tempe Temptress' instincts steer her right. Spotting the telltale signs of Manning launching her plant foot off the mat, Juliet ducks, allowing Janel's leg to sail harmlessly over the crown of her skull. As Bloodwind straightens up, the Golden Mite heads in the other direction, falling to her stomach--with her foot still in the possession of the Tempe Temptress. That affords the champ a golden opportunity--and though the hold is not a regular part of her arsenal, Juliet attempts to slap on ankle lock and slow down the would be Olympian.
(ANKLE LOCK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=NmMpC33S-tI )
As Bloodwind twists the trapped ankle, Janel's body becomes electrified and after a few flailing shifts of her body, she yelps in pain. Manning's hands snatch at her hair to spread the anguish. Finally, she presses her palms to the canvas and pushes up, then tries to sneak her head between her chest and the canvas, hoping to roll her way out of trouble and scramble to safety if she can break Bloodwind's grip.
Had Juliet been more practiced at the ankle lock, she might have been able to ride out Janel's struggles--she might have even been experienced enough to know to drop to the mat and scissor the leg with her gams. Instead, Manning manages to tumble her way out from underneath the champion. More to the point, the pull of the Golden Mite's captive leg sends Juliet stumbling forward, the Tempe Temptress falling to her knees. The brunette's momentum sends her upper body pitching forward still, her journey ending only when her throat strikes the middle rope.
Manning rolls to her feet and takes a step toward Bloodwind before her aching ankle drops her to one knee. Grimacing, she forces through the pain. Reaching her feet she bunny hops to the ropes behind her and half-sprints half-limps toward Juliet, leaping with one leg forward, hoping to send it through the ropes with her body landing across the champion's back and drive all her 118 power-packed pounds atop the Tempe Temptress forcing her throat deeper across the cable.
Even a slowed Golden Mite is a quick Golden Mite, Janel Manning covering ground at a brisk pace and vaulting off her feet. The blonde would-be Olympian sails through the air, and lands against the Native American's shoulderblades. Clutching the top rope, the challenger allows ALL her weight to settle against the back of the Tempe Temptress, Manning bouncing atop her rasping prey. Juliet's Uggs drum the canvas behind both champion and challenger, quickly compelling the referee to step in and start a count.
Manning bounces off the battered Bloodwind and limps away, cursing under her breath. Reaching a corner, she leans in and works at her aching joint, watching as a gasping Juliet drops to her haunches then starts to pull her way up with the help of the ropes. Perfect pearlies now turned to a snarl, Manning decides she can't and won't wait any longer. Moving to Juliet, she grabs a wrist and sends Bloodwind off to the opposite ropes with a whip. Following to the middle of the ring, the Mite leaps into the air on Bloodwind's return, her muscular legs flying high to clamp around Juliet's noggin and send the Navajo through her own personal spin cycle with a hurricarana.
Just one problem: Juliet DIDN'T return. Instead, the Tempe Temptress hooks her arms around the top rope the moment her back hits the cables, bringing the Native American beauty to a jostling halt. Of course, a woman as acrobatic as the Golden Mite can adjust on the fly, and once she spots what Bloodwind has done, Manning is able to touch down on her feet--though instantly, her one ankle is sent back to throbbing, lifting that foot a couple of inches above the canvas. But that show of anguish proves momentary, and soon Janel charges the Tempe Temptress...
... only as she closes in, Juliet dips down, hoping to catch Manning and LAUNCH her over the top rope.
Ignoring the ankle as best she can, the Golden Mite forces her body forward, the muscular sprite still reaching a good clip as she looks to nail her foe with a flying forearm. Instead, Bloodwind's dip and her lowering of the top rope sends the sparkplug sailing over the uppermost cable. The ponytailed blonde crashes and burns, hitting the apron harshly on her way to spill onto the barely padded floor. Janel rolls to a heap next to the barricade, holding her injured ankle with one hand and now rubbing a shoulder with the other.
It's not too long before the Golden Mite starts to pull herself up, though she does favor her ankle as she hobbles away from the barricade. "Not so tough when she knows you're coming, huh?" one member of Navajo Nation says from the front row, prompting Janel to wheel in his direction, ready to verbally rip him a new one. One look at the fan tells her that he's not worth the effort, however, and she turns back to the ring... and into the shoulder of a flying Tempe Temptress! Juliet had shot off the far ropes and through the gap between the middle and uppermost strands, launching a dive that catches Manning in the chest, sending both beauties crashing to the floor. Springing back to her feet, Juliet turns back to the ring and dives under the bottom rope. Again, she's up quickly--and she's sprinting into the far cables as Manning struggles back to verticality. Clearly, the Tempe Temptress would not be satisfied with one dive--and it was highly improbable that TWO would quench her thirst for vengeance.
Showing wear and tear, Janel's next trip to her feet isn't anything approximating springy as the pint-sized blonde pushes to her feet. Juliet makes it two-for-two. This time she leads with a forearm as she dives through the top and middle ropes and NAILS Janel in the temple. Manning is blasted away from the shiver, backpedaling toward the steel then up and over, landing in the first row, the FAWNatics getting an up close and personal experience with Manning as she ends in some laps in a bleary-eyed stupor.
Juliet rolls up to her knees just in time to see her opponent go toppling over the guardrail. Bringing both hands up to her mouth, the Navajo warrior lets out a proud, triumphant cry before pushing back to her feet. With the Golden Mite now in the stands, Bloodwind opts against returning to the ring and going for a hat trick. Instead, she saunters over to the security barrier, reaching over to grab a handful of Janel's blonde locks. Stuffing her foe's head under her left arm, Juliet grabs a handful of spandex with her right, around Manning's hip, preparing to bring her out of the sea of FAWNatics with a suplex.
Though some certainly don't mind having Janel in their midst, a couple of the FAWNatics provide an assist in heaving all 59 inches of the Iowan up. Juliet takes it from there, keeping her foe stationed high above, letting all of Manning's blood sink to her head. Five...six...seven seconds she remains heels over head, the crowd loving every second until 'ten' sends Manning finally and emphatically over. The Mite's back SLAMS against the floor and instantly she's brought back to animation, body curling in anguish, face pinched in pain as she reaches for her lower back, grunting with each breath.
The passage of time can be a funny thing inside the FAWN Arena, different from the world outside its walls. Though Juliet had held the Golden Mite aloft for a solid ten seconds, inside the ring, the referee's count has only just ticked "SEVEN!" Which is a good thing, as the suplex had taken a fair bit out of the Tempe Temptress' back as well. Juliet groans, rubbing her lower back as she rolls over and pushes up to a hand and knees. Reaching her feet at "EIGHT!", the champ claims a handful of Janel's locks and tugs the wounded blonde up to her feet. Dragging Manning over to the ring, Bloodwind shoves the challenger underneath the bottom rope and sends her rolling toward the center with a two-handed shove. Juliet then climbs onto the apron, clutching the top rope as she waits for Janel to rise, her back to the Native American beauty. When Manning starts to turn around, Bloodwind rocks back, readying to launch herself onto the top rope, and from their springboard into a clothesline that would hopefully decapitate the Golden Mite.
(SPRINGBOARD CLOTHESLINE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=gtDsx5m2WRo )
The bigger, raven-haired champ launches to her staging ground, namely the top rope, then uses the tension to get all froggie on the ponytailed sparkplug. Juliet spingboards toward a wobbly-looking Manning with arm drawn, ready to remove her foe's head from her shoulders. But the former Olympian springs to life herself leaping into a dropkick. Instead of a missile pointed down, the Mite's points up toward the descending jaw of the Navajo warrior.
Gracefully flying through the air is challenging enough, but CHANGING course mid-flight is harder still--and in this case, for Juliet Bloodwind, it proves impossible. Janel's soles shoot into the Tempe Temptress' chin, striking with a 'THWACK!' that sends the Navajo's head snapping backward. The rest of Bloodwind's body soon follows suit, the champion hitting the canvas with a loud 'THUNK!' A groaning Juliet rolls to her stomach, her hands reaching to the back of her neck.
"Don't even try and steal my game," Janel grunts as she crawls to the Tempe Temptress and wraps the champ's head up in the crook of her left elbow. Manning rises to her knees, forcing Bloodwind there as well and wrenches again. The Golden Mite works the neck then brings Juliet to her boot leather, Manning, of course, on the balls of her bare feet. The blonde digs a nasty knee into the pit of Jules' breadbasket, doubling Bloodwind over. Manning then starts to gather up the arms of the lowered Bloodwind in a double underhook, preparing to clamp her muscular thighs down on either temple of the Temptress then roll to her back and stretch the legs of the overturned Juliet if she could get to the end of her signature Iron Butterfly.
(IRON BUTTERFLY:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=xtlnYqY7ZdI )
When Juliet feels Janel's inner thighs start to press against her skull, the Native American warrior can't help but wish they don't lock tight--again, trapped in a Janel Manning scissors is the last place just about any FAWN talent wants to find herself. Little does the Tempe Temptress realize how soon she might be wishing to face a mere scissorhold instead. With Bloodwind's arms gathered up and secured, the Golden Mite rocks to her back, hoisting the defending IC champ off her feet. Those feet soon find themselves hooked by Manning's, and once Janel has them grapevined, she begins to stretch her legs out--forcing Juliet's along. The ex-gymnast certainly didn't have the longest legs in FAWN, but their strength can make up for those deficiencies--and it's not long before Bloodwind's hammies are SCREAMING in agony, with Jules herself howling along with them.
"What do you say, Jules?" the ref asks, and the wailing Navajo shakes her head, the back of her skull resting against Janel's crotch. Her resolve is admirable, but there's essentially nothing else she can do--not with her limbs thoroughly trussed up, nowhere near the ropes. The only thing that can save the Tempe Temptress' title reign at this moment is precisely how long the Golden Mite can KEEP her trapped this way.
The spandex-clad challenger stretches Juliet's copper-skinned lower limbs as far and for as long as she can, but after a dozen seconds of Bloodwind refusing to give in, Manning is forced to relax and her shoulders drop to the canvas. The vigilant zebra slaps the mat for ONE and Janel forces the shoulders up long enough to draw Bloodwind's groin muscles to the snapping point before she flops back to the canvas. This time giving in, Janel tucks her legs and releases the champ, shoving her away and rolling to her feet. "You liked that, didn't you?" she chirps to the crowd, beaming grin blossoming. "Right where she belongs, right?" Manning grabs an aching Juliet by her wrists and drags her in front of a corner, while the Temptress kneads at her thighs. With the champ laid out on the mat, Janel moves to the corner, hopping to the bottom ropes first and when the blonde fireplug launches into a moonsault toward Bloodwind’s open tummy, the crowd knows if she hits one, she;ll be going for the trifecta.
(MOONSAULT TRIFECTA @ 1:52:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=LREyxW75zcY )
As much pain as the Tempe Temptress is in at the moment, the wheels in her mind are still turning. When Janel vaults off the bottom buckle and twists into a picture perfect--if low altitude--moonsault, Bloodwind understands that there's not enough time or space her her to roll out of the way. That still leaves Juliet's knees at her service, and she starts to tuck them in toward her chest...
... but they barely begin their ascent before the Navajo's enflamed hamstrings bring their rise to a halt. Bloodwind's yelp of pain is promptly transformed into a "GUUUPPPPPPHHHHHHH!!!!!!" as Manning's pint-sized, power-packed frame crushes the air out of her lungs. The Golden Mite is up quickly, springing over Juliet and hopping onto the middle turnbuckle, from which she launches a second moonsault, every bit as beautiful as the first. Now, for Juliet, there IS enough time and enough space for the Tempe Temptress to roll to safety--but there's not enough oxygen remaining in her lungs to fuel such a roll.
Again, Bloodwind lets out a loud gasp, her eyes bulging as her body folds up around the tiny but built blonde. This time, Janel allows herself a moment's pause in the corner after popping back to her feet, comfortable in the knowledge that the champion isn't going ANYWHERE now. But after basking in the displeasure of Navajo Nation, the Golden Mite VAULTS to the top turnbuckle, and launches into another stunning acrobatic display...
... that ends just as the previous two had, with Manning's chiseled, spandex-clad stomach splashing down across Juliet's tummy, sending the Native American's stems flying up into the air.
"Bronze, silver and especially gold out of that," the winded Manning bleats as she throws her tiny muscular frame across the softened Native American. The ponytailed blonde's bicep bulges as she rolls Bloodwind into a tight ball, cradling her, shoulders down, ass pointed to the rafters. "Give me my gold," Janel says to no one in particular, though it might be the ref. He drops to the canvas to slap the mat...
ONE...
TWO...
THRENOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!
At the last possible instant, Juliet's legs summon the strength to kick Bloodwind's way to freedom. As the Golden Mite is sent to a seated position, the Navajo warrior tumbles over, curling into a bell, her still-aching thighs clinched together. Manning fixes the ref with her most incredulous glare, which says a good thousand words on her behalf--which is good, as Janel herself appears speechless.
"Just two," the zebra assures her.
Meanwhile, the Tempe Temptress starts to roll to her side, toward the ropes. Janel couldn't take the title away from her on the floor, and Bloodwind needed time to get her legs back into service.
Manning, wanting nothing to do with Juliet getting outside, both because she couldn't win the title out there and the result the last time she found herself there, snatches an ankle and starts to drag Juliet back toward the center. But a determined Bloodwind shakes off her challenger and slides under, landing on her feet. The raven-haired grappler doubles over, drawing in great inhales. A frustrated Janel berates herself for letting Juliet get to the wiles of the floor, but the blonde munchkin puts the past aside and goes for broke, trying to match Bloodwind's bravado by sprinting toward the ropes and vaulting toward an arc over the top cable, planing to splash the Native American beauty far below.
Having done her due diligence on Janel Manning, as she did every challenger, Juliet Bloodwind knows that the floor is not the Golden Mite's domain--and that element of surprise buys Janel a moment as she launches herself over the ropes. But knowing that any competitor worth her salt in FAWN would throw out all the stops in the quest for championship gold, it buys her ONLY a moment. As Manning descends on her, the Tempe Temptress drops into a tensed crouch, raising her arms to catch the flying Mite, which she does...
... but as she does, the lingering damage from Janel's Iron Butterfly sends a tremor through Juliet's legs. Unable to support both herself AND Manning, Bloodwind collapses to the floor, Janel landing bodily atop her.
Manning packs plenty into her 59 inches and her frame knocks Bloodwind into the thinly-padded floor, CRASHING across the chest of the Temptress and sandwiching the champ. If the title match was 'falls count anywhere' the belt might have been Manning's right there, but the little blonde sparkplug knows well there's no reason to stay tight to the reeling Bloodwind when she can cause more havoc. Naturally, Janel looks for a high point and pops back to the canvas above the splayed raven-haired grappler. But she doesn't stop there, going all the way to the top of the nearest set of buckles. Taking a moment to gather herself, Manning skies into the Orlando night, aiming an elbow at the cleft of Juliet's bosom, but it's no ordinary drop, not that any could be from Janel's summit. No. Manning leaps into a backflip, soaring then diving in a shooting star elbow.
(SHOOTING STAR ELBOW @ :30:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hb5edjH0TXM )
The FAWNatics might be seeing it, but very, VERY few could believe it. Not that the Golden Mite going to the top rope is a particularly uncommon occurrence--but almost universally, her would-be target was inside the ring, not sprawled out on the floor. And then, WHEN Janel takes flight, it's not some simple crossbody or splash, or even something as athletically impressive though commonplace as a moonsault. No, Janel rotates in a stunning shooting star, her compact frame sailing from the heavens to beyond her usual landing point by a good few feet. The Golden Mite's elbow is cocked, and were Juliet Bloodwind to roll out of the way, Manning's joint wouldn't meet harsh canvas, but potentially injurious concrete...
Fortunately, at least for Janel, her tawny, glistening crashpad DOESN'T move, and her elbow SLAMS into Bloodwind's juggs. The shooting star elbow, from an even greater height in the ring, sends the Tempe Temptress into a fit of violent convulsion, Juliet rocking back and forth. But Janel's landing is anything but heavenly, the Golden Mite letting out a groan of anguish as she rolls to her back as well. And the FAWNatics have little choice but to leap to their feet with a chant of "HO-LY SHYT!" However, just as the crowd had been compelled to act, so too is the referee... and now comes the very real possibility that BOTH of these gladiators might find themselves counted out.
Janel winces as she rolls her left shoulder, looking up at the official, his count at EIGHT. Panic overcoming pain, she kips up just enough to stumble to the apron, roll in and roll out, starting a new count and perhaps a doomsday clock on Juliet's reign. With the FAWNatics still buzzing at the Mite's incredible journey to break the Intercontinental champion, the dirty blonde's ponytail swooshes from side to side as Manning works the deadweight of the Native American to her feet. It's no easy task, but the muscular munchkin shoves the copper-skinned deadweight in under the bottom rope, Manning quickly following behind.
Eschewing the pin, a sweat-soaked, spandex-clad Janel pulls the limp dish rag of a champ to her feet. From behind, Janel crosses Bloodwind's arms across the throat of the Tempe Temptress, preparing to leap and tuck her knees into Juliet's shoulderblades and blast the hell out of Bloodwind with the straightjacket lungblower which, if Manning could manage, would morph into a straightjacket camel clutch, the combo that everyone in FAWN knows is The Perfect Ten.
(PERFECT TEN:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=vudL_Iwg35I )
Things look perhaps as bleak as they ever have for the Tempe Temptress since she had become Intercontinental champion... but as Janel starts to draw Bloodwind's own arms tight across her throat, Juliet sends a mule kick back into the pit of the Golden Mite's spandex-sheathed, washboard abdomen. It's not a massively strong shot--after everything Juliet had been through to this point, how could it hope to be? But it does the job, breaking Manning's grasp enough to earn the champ a reprieve--however brief. Her arms flying out in front of her once Janel's grasp is broken, the Tempe Temptress takes a faltering step forward, needing a moment to right herself. But holding onto her championship by her fingernails, Juliet digs down.
Doing her best to ignore her exhaustion, the leadenness of her arms and the still-lingering burning in her thighs, Bloodwind reaches back and over her shoulder. Finding some of Janel's golden locks, she starts to pull the Golden Mite's jaw over her shoulder, intending to charge toward the near corner as quickly as her weary kegs could carry her, desperate to connect with her Bloodhawk Plunge.
(BLOODHAWK PLUNGE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=gMuGREYMsVs )
As stunned as she is hurting, Janel can't stop the windwalking Bloodwind as she takes the former gymnast along for the ride to the corner. The muscular munchkin's strength is used against her as Bloodwind uses Janel as her base to scale the ropes on one side of the corner, reach the top buckle, and spin both women into a violent u-turn. And while the champion lays out, Janel's face and forehead are DRIVEN into the deck with incredible force, the crowd reflexively groaning but just as quickly cheering the Plunge and the sight of Manning's mug to canvas and unmoving.
Bloodwind's impact sends the Tempe Temptress herself flopping over to her stomach, where she puddles into a nearly motionless heap. Aware that Juliet's hard-earned chance to retain might be slipping away, Navajo Nation IMPLORES their champion to get her delightful derriere in gear. In takes a few uncomfortably long second for Bloodwind to pull herself out of her ball and to start dragging her way toward Janel. Pushing the Golden Mite over to her back, the Tempe Temptress does little more than throw her near deadweight atop the challenger, unable to reach for a leg as the ref slaps the...
ONE...
TWO...
THRENOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!
Manning gets a shoulder up. Juliet rolls to her back, reclining against the muscular munchkin for a couple of heartbeats before finding the strength to overcome her disappoint and power--in a manner of speaking--to her feet. Grunting as she pulls Janel back to verticality as well, Juliet sends Janel staggering back into the corner with a shove before stumbling in after her. And when the Tempe Temptress draws back her choppin' hand, the FAWNatics know a Massacre is looming on the horizon.
(KNIFE EDGE MASSACRE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=8doUJsDnGL8 )
And Bloodwind lights up the chest of the vertically-challenged blonde, lowering her chops but not slowing down the speed of the wicked craaacking open hands. Manning seems to take more power with each chop, her body bouncing from the blistering attack. Just as it seems she's overwhelmed, the blonde reaches forward and grabs Juliet by the shoulders. Manning spins Bloodwind and takes her place in front of the champ, loading up a chop that Juliet catches nimbly. The Navajo uses the grip on Janel's wrist to spin them again and unloads another slaphappy fusillade on the battered Mite.
With her hand starting to sting, Juliet ends the barrage. But as much as her choppin' hand aches, that doesn't stop the Tempe Temptress from reaching out and securing a grip on the Golden Mite's wrist. Setting her feet, Bloodwind attempts to send Janel sprinting across the ring with an Irish whip, into the far corner. Whether she could employ enough strength to send Manning crashing to a seat after the toll of this war is questionable, but if she could, the Tempe Temptress would follow her challenger in for a Panic Attack.
(PANIC ATTACK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=71snnULKf4g )
The blaze of pink and pumping legs crosses the squared circle in an instant, only Janel's quick reflexes allowing her to turn before she strikes the buckles at warp speed. Even with her low center of gravity and power-packed stems, the heat of battle and the force of the impact unhinges Janel's legs and she drops to her pear-shaped behind, gams extended in front of her. The dazed gaze and bobbling head of the former gymnast is a red cape for Bloodwind. The champ sprints to her foe and NAILS Janel's temple with a battering knee that rocks the skull and the world of the blonde.
Grabbing Manning by the ankles, Bloodwind drags the nearly insensate Golden Mite away from the corner... then launches herself in a flip over Janel's powerful, compact frame, securing a jackknife pin. The official slides into place, checks Janel's shoulders, and then slaps the...
ONE...
TWO...
THREENOOOOO....
Manning's hands flash upward, slamming into the flanks of the Tempe Temptress, just hard enough to break the brunette's grip--and the cover. But adrenaline spurs the champ to rise quickly, peeling Manning up with a handful of hair. Bullying the Golden Mite back into the ropes, Juliet sends Janel off to the races with another Irish whip, this one into the ropes. Moving to meet the Mite at mid-ring, Bloodwind dips, preparing to toss Janel onto her shoulders and into a fireman's carry, ready to nail her Pop-Up Samoan Drop.
(POP-UP SAMOAN DROP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=OHt4woO9yig )
Again, Manning is off for the ride, racing to the ropes and rebounding toward the waiting death trap. The Navajo bars Janel's advance, thrusting her hands into Manning's modest chest and HEAVING the diminutive blonde HIGH into the air. The bugeyed Mite falls across Juliet's shoulders, the crowd roaring. But the enthusiasm and the fatal blow is cut short when Manning manages to slip down the back of the champ. Juliet reflexively reaches over her shoulders to snatch at the descending Janel and the Golden Mite takes what's offered, collecting Juliet's wrists. Before the crowd or Juliet seems to understand what's gone wrong, the arms of the Temptress are bound in an 'X' across her throat and Janel is lifting off into a tuck, her knees rising toward Juliet's shoulderblades, ready to start a belated but perfectly awesome Perfect Ten.
(PERFECT TEN:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=vudL_Iwg35I )
And this time, the Golden Mite shoots into the air before Juliet Bloodwind can even THINK of launching a mule kick.
As Manning's knee rise to meet Bloodwind's back, the rest of the challenger goes into full reverse, Juliet RIPPED from her feet. The Navajo warrior's journey comes to an abrupt end when her back CRASHES into those bony joints, the impact forcing a gust of breath out of the brunette that her own arms very nearly strangle. But that's just the beginning. Nudging Bloodwind over to her belly, Janel quickly settles into a crouch atop the Native American's back, leeeeeaaaning and CRANKING back on Juliet's wings. In the blink of an eye, the Tempe Temptress had gone from resurgent to caught dead to rights.
There was nowhere to go, not with Manning's weight effectively pinning her stomach to the canvas. Bloodwind's ONLY hope for survival rests in being able to wrench her arms loose from the Golden Mite's grasp...
The muscular Mite is just as tall as Juliet when both are on the mat, the ponytailed blonde with just as much or more strength to boot. Throw in a ready made set of reins, Juliet effectively cutting off her own air supply with the arms crossing on her throat and the growing arch in her spinal column, Bloodwind's golden-skinned chest thrust forward against its thin covering and Jules is caught in a terrible, "perfect" trap. The champ's face is a picture of pain, dark eyes half-lidded, teeth clenched. She tries to tug her arms free but Janel has a white-knuckle grip on her foe's wrists and leeans back, forcing Juliet's backbone into a wicked 'C' shape.
And of course, the longer Janel could keep her grip secure, the more Juliet's arms sap her strength... and the weaker Bloodwind's efforts to pull them loose become. "Nuuuhhh... nuuuhhhhhhh.... nuuuoooooooooooohhhhhhhhh..." the Tempe Temptress whimpers, even as her arms begin to grow slack, and the beating of her Uggs against the canvas begins to fade. Was she refusing to submit? Or attempting to deny the increasingly inevitable?
Janel Manning couldn't care less either way. Sealing her eyes shut, the Golden Mite leans back as far as she can, the crowd gasping in fear as it looks like Juliet's spine might snap at any moment. "GYYYYAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..." the champ shrieks, her eyelids fluttering, even as tears begin to streak down her cheeks. "Guuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhh...." the Tempe Temptress gurgles again, her voice soften, fading. "guuuhhhhhhhh... guuuuhhhhhhhhhh.... ghhhhvvvvvvvveeeee...."
Refusing to loosen her grip even as the woman beneath her grows more slack by the second, the noises from her foe more unintelligible, Janel bellows, "Am I too small now?" or tries to in her slightly squeaky register. "Give it to me," Janel grunts as she rises out of her crouch and into a stance, only to drop backward into a bridge, landing on the crown of her head, increasing the curve in Bloodwind's spine to a fearsome degree, The Perfect Ten if anything, now a spinal tapping Perfect Eleven.
"ASK HER," Janel demands/pleads.
Bloodwind's eyes SNAP back open as Janel falls back into a sickening bridge--and from the Tempe Temptress' lips comes an even more chilling, fearsome shriek of agony. Fortunately, if that's the right word, Juliet's cry is as blood curdling as it is brief, the Navajo's eyes drifting to whites as her lids droop closed for a final time. Bloodwind's lips remained purse, her tongue just prodding through.
"Jules?" the ref asks, only to repeat her name louder and more urgently when there is no response. When that query also meets with silence, he immediately waves toward the timekeeper's table.
"SHE'S OUT!" the ref shouts. "RING THE BELL!!!!!"
Even as the bell tolls continuously for several seconds, Manning does not release. Not until she hears the ring announcer call out her name. "Your winner....AND NEW INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPION...JANEL MANNING!"
The words seem to cut the string, the Golden Mite releasing Juliet's arms, the beaten Navajo, title holder no longer, snapping forward, her face thumping against the deck, Bloodwind out cold. Beside her, Janel remains on her back, her perfect pearlies emerging. She manages to raise her arms to the sounds of an unhappy audience. The chipmunk-checked, chiseled champion kips up to her feet. "Don't call it an upset!" Janel assures loudly between heavy breaths. The ref grabs her right wrist and raises it high. Manning hops into the air, sticking her double-footed landing atop Juliet's faux deerskin top, even that not rousing Bloodwind.
"I told you I was golden," Janel shouts, the ref snapping her IC belt in place, "and let's see anyone say otherwise now!"
(“YOU BETTER PRAY”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=y_WxsL5q3I4 )
“The next match is set one fall with a 30-minute time limit and is for the Intercontinental Championship. First…hailing from Iowa City, Iowa… Standing 4 feet 11 inches tall and weighing 117 pounds… The Golden Mite herself…JANEL MANNING!”
Janel Manning...
With the introduction complete, the FAWNatics are made to wait 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 rise, the tiny terror of gymnastic artistry parades down the ramp and aisle.
Manning makes her way to the squared circle without the Icy Mite, Jenny Lewis, the crowd thanking themselves for small favors.
Having reclaimed her bona fides in fine fashion, battering and besting Sammie Sinclair after a year away from the organization, it’s clear the front office has faith in the muscular munchkin that, at the very least, she can put on a show at the top end of the card.
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 around the ring, button nose firmly in the air.
Janel’s familiar flaxen ponytail swishes from one side to the other as she rises up the steps 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 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 spreads her hands across her chiseled tummy. She asks for a microphone and plucks one from the air after a toss from a FAWN flunky.
“You all know I’m always golden!” the Mite shouts, “But tonight I’m going to end the night with an awful lot more of my favorite metal.”
The Golden Mite turns to the upper stage, motioning the champ to come down and take her beating like a woman.
As the Golden Mite settles into her corner, the announcer steps back toward center ring. “And her opponent, the Intercontinental champion...”
Navajo Nation launches to its feet with a roar.
“Hailing from Tempe, Arizona… she stands five feet six inches tall and weighs in this evening at one hundred and twenty-five pounds… She is the one and only Tempe Temptress… JUUULLLIIIEEETTT BLLLOOOOOODDDWWWIIINNNDDD!!!!!!”
Juliet Bloodwind...
(“KILLING IN THE NAME OF”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=vAaLeJ53umE )
To the accompanying sonic assault of Rage Against the Machine's "Killing in the Name Of", Juliet Bloodwind, emerges atop the ramp. The crowd erupts into a supportive roar, happy to see the Tempe Temptress back in action once more. And that roar grows only louder as Navajo Nation recognizes the change in Juliet’s garb:
Namely, that tonight, just as she had done for the last three months, the Tempe Temptress actually sports the *Nubile Navajo’s* garb!
The elder Bloodwind stands clad in a faux deerskin halter, the shoulder straps eventually becoming two thin strings that crisscross her otherwise bare back. She also wears matching bikini bottoms, augmented by for lack of a better term a "half loin cloth" that descends to mid-thigh in the front, and that fails to obscure the view of her derriere in the back--Juliet’s rear view not particularly overshadowed by the woman who normally wore this gear. Ugg boots molded to resemble moccasins adorn her feet, and the Intercontinental title replaces Nyssa’s Lightweight strap to complete the ensemble.
The Tempe Temptress exudes a flirtatious confidence as she struts down the steel toward the ring. The pigtailed Juliet slaps hands with the fans sitting along the ramp, Bloodwind arches a wry eyebrow at this sight of one sign: “JANEL’S IN FOR A MIGHTY SQUISHING!” Another fan waves a sign that had almost become a fixture, reading: "CONSIDER ME TEMPTED, TEMPE TEMPTRESS!"
And for the sentiment, as always, he is rewarded with a hug and a quick peck on the cheek. Bloodwind makes a complete circuit around the ring, continuing to press the flesh with the assembled fans. Her lap completed, Juliet moves quickly toward the ring, gracefully hopping onto the apron. With her back to the ropes, Juliet casts a quick glance over her shoulder at the official and the announcer before draping her arms over the top rope. The nubile Native American gives a suggestive wiggle of her hips before leaning backward, flipping herself over the top rope and landing on her feet inside the ring, Navajo Nation roaring its approval while Bloodwind hands her strap to the official, then moves to limber up in her corner.
Juliet had already defended this belt against bigger women, more experienced women... but only a fool would look past Janel Manning. She might be lacking in stature, but having met the Golden Mite in the ring when she and Nyssa had possessed the tag team titles, she knew just how much power Manning’s compact form deceptively held, in addition to her agility and Olympian conditioning. Yes, Janel might be the smallest woman she had defended against...
... but she might STILL be the Tempe Temptress’ biggest challenge to date.
And she might be the most aggressive as well as Manning barrels out of her corner before the klaxon call of the bell, a pink flash charging across the ring like she's racing toward a gold medal vault. But the Mite keeps her feet on the canvas, lowering a shoulder, apparently determined to take the fight to Bloodwind in her own buckles, whatever way that may come.
Janel is quick, but Juliet still might have been able to evade the former gymnast's charge... if she hadn't been in the process of passing her title belt through the ropes and into the hands of a ringside staffer. As it is, Bloodwind barely has time to turn her back to the buckles, so that her abs take the brunt of Manning's impaling shoulder rather than her more vulnerable flank. "OOOOOOPPPPHHHHHH!!!!!!" the Tempe Temptress gasps, momentarily folding across Janel's back. And the challenger doesn't relent, gripping the middle rope with both hands and withdrawing juuust enough to RAM her shoulder into Bloodwind's belly a second time, and then a third.
"Let her out of the corner, Janel!" the official barks, more concerned with getting Manning off the champion than calling for the bell.
"Do your job! Start the match," Janel squeaks in the somewhat mousy voice that betrayed her demeanor and physicality.
"No. Let her out," the ref insists, adding a count behind the demand, Janel stuffing in a stubby knee to Juliet's gut before backing off at FOUR hands raised.
"Start...the...damn...match," the Mite barks.
The official turns to a gasping Bloodwind. "You OK, Juliet? You ready?"
Bloodwind's tush rests atop the middle turnbuckle as the Tempe Temptress slumps forward, one arm hugging her battered midsection. Her other hand clutches the top rope for a little extra stability. Juliet's chest heaves with each painful inhale, but the reigning and defending Intercontinental champion gives the referee a small nod. "Ring that bell..." Juliet rasps. "... so I can start kicking her ass!"
A little reluctantly, he signals to the timekeeper, and the familiar toll of the bell echoes through the arena. As it does, Bloodwind pushes away from the corner, lurching toward Janel and attempting to establish a collar and elbow tie up.
Manning feigns responding in kind but slips beneath the outstretched arms of her foe, sliding behind Bloodwind. The vertically challenged Manning raises her arms to slip them under and around those of her counterpart and capture the champ in a full nelson. Halfway toward locking it in, Janel seems to realize she doesn't have the height or wingspan to lace her fingers, at least while her feet are on the ground. Leaping atop Juliet's back, she wraps her muscular legs around Bloodwind's midriff , hoping the boost will allow her to seal off the nelson and rattle Juliet's cage.
There aren't many women in FAWN who can make a legitimate case for having a more feared set of scissors than Ivy Armstrong--but Janel Manning is obviously one of them. The blonde fireplug wraps her gams around Bloodwind's waist and makes short work of crossing her ankles to cinch in the hold. As Janel's fingers start to lace together, the Tempe Temptress immediately realizes the danger she is, and she starts to backpedal toward her corner. Alas, after the work Manning's shoulder had done on her midriff, it just takes one good squeeeeeeeeeze of her thighs to send a quiver through Juliet's stems. Bloodwind falls to a seat, Janel underneath her, both nelson and scissors now locked in.
"How about it, Jules?" the referee asks, knowing full well there's NO way the Tempe Temptress would surrender her title so soon. Sure enough, Juliet shakes her head, her arms straining as she attempts to power out of her human bonds.
In control of the champ, confident Bloodwind can't break her grip, the spandex-sheathed blonde leans back, taking Juliet along for the ride. Janel takes both she and Juliet off their backsides before Manning means to reverse course and force them up, forward then down to bounce Bloodwind's keister as many times as she could manage, giving the Navajo a new name, 'Elk with Bruised Bum'.
Very few people would describe Juliet's "trunk" as "junk-less"... but that padding only serves the Native American beauty for so long. By the third time Bloodwind's backside is SLAMMED down against the unyielding canvas, the Tempe Temptress starts offering yelps. By the sixth, those tiny yips have become full-fledged howls. And as of the TENTH, the Tempe Temptress' eyes are beginning to water. The combination of the nelson and the keister bounces have finally quelled the resistance in Juliet's arms, but the Navajo's feet still attempt to find enough purchase to rock back and push Janel's shoulders to the mat, her Uggs slipping and sliding against the canvas.
Catching Manning napping on her back, Juliet splayed on top, the ponytailed blonde does some pushing on the canvas herself with her bare feet, releasing her scissors so she can scramble out from underneath Juliet and get her shoulders off the canvas. Clambering up to the naked tootsies, Manning beats a still wincing Jules there by a tick. With the Navajo turning toward her, the former gymnast leaps onto the front of Juliet's thighs, her hands wrapping around the back of Bloodwind's neck. Pushing off her makeshift pad, Janel throws her muscular frame away from the champ, but tries to keep her grip in place around Juliet's head and slam Bloodwind's face into the canvas with a monkey flip facebuster.
(MONKEY FLIP FACEBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=BkKMQw70RFE )
In this sport, so much is determined in moments which don't even encompass a full second. When Janel's tootsies land atop Juliet's thighs and Manning's fingers move to clutch her hair, the immediately, nearly involuntary response from the Tempe Temptress is to brace for being launched toward the ceiling. By the time it's clear the Golden Mite has something else in mind, her powerful legs propelling her into the air before Bloodwind, it's too late to counter. The challenger lays out, giving a firm YANK on Juliet's pigtails and SMASHING the Navajo's mug to the mat. Bloodwind tumbles over to her back, limbs splayed, seemingly knocked into next week--and already tonight, Juliet's reign looks to be in jeopardy.
The beaming toothy grin from Manning emerges as she pops to her feet and cartwheels back to the splayed Bloodwind. "Should have stayed with my own shrimpy kind. That's what you were all thinking," Manning shouts. "Screw that lightweight title. First I'm taking this belt, then I'm taking Emily's." Manning dips and sinks her digits into Juliet's raven locks. She yanks Bloodwind to her feet, straightening her up with a substantial European uppercut, Janel's bulging bicep packing a wallop that leaves Juliet tottering. Immediately, Manning takes off for the ropes behind her. The Golden Mite bounds into the cables and races back at the champ, leaping into a crossbody to flatten the squaw and pick up a pinfall.
(CROSSBODY:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=NYTsxkVi124 )
There's a meaty 'THWACK!' of torso striking torso, followed by a gust of an exhale from the Intercontinental champion... but a funny thing happens on the way to Manning's upset victory. Sure enough, Janel's crossbody sends Bloodwind crashing to the deck...
... but she rolls THROUGH the landing, trading places with the Golden Mite. And suddenly, despite Janel's opening dominance, the blonde fireplug finds her shoulders flat against the mat, Juliet reaching to hook both of Manning's muscular thighs.
Again, a surprised Janel's shoulders are pressed tight to the mat and her legs bicycle above her, abbreviated stems pumping away to get her off the deck for...
ONE...
TWO...
... and over the blonde tumbles. She quickly scoots to all fours and locks eyes with Juliet who's there as well. Racing to their feet, Manning's up first and she sends a stubby and quite literal toe kick toward Bloodwind's breadbasket, but Juliet catches the limb, leaving Manning hopping one foot. That's hardly a chore for the former gymnast and she leaps off the remaining lower limb, swinging an enziguiri kick at Juliet's temple.
Only this time, the Tempe Temptress' instincts steer her right. Spotting the telltale signs of Manning launching her plant foot off the mat, Juliet ducks, allowing Janel's leg to sail harmlessly over the crown of her skull. As Bloodwind straightens up, the Golden Mite heads in the other direction, falling to her stomach--with her foot still in the possession of the Tempe Temptress. That affords the champ a golden opportunity--and though the hold is not a regular part of her arsenal, Juliet attempts to slap on ankle lock and slow down the would be Olympian.
(ANKLE LOCK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=NmMpC33S-tI )
As Bloodwind twists the trapped ankle, Janel's body becomes electrified and after a few flailing shifts of her body, she yelps in pain. Manning's hands snatch at her hair to spread the anguish. Finally, she presses her palms to the canvas and pushes up, then tries to sneak her head between her chest and the canvas, hoping to roll her way out of trouble and scramble to safety if she can break Bloodwind's grip.
Had Juliet been more practiced at the ankle lock, she might have been able to ride out Janel's struggles--she might have even been experienced enough to know to drop to the mat and scissor the leg with her gams. Instead, Manning manages to tumble her way out from underneath the champion. More to the point, the pull of the Golden Mite's captive leg sends Juliet stumbling forward, the Tempe Temptress falling to her knees. The brunette's momentum sends her upper body pitching forward still, her journey ending only when her throat strikes the middle rope.
Manning rolls to her feet and takes a step toward Bloodwind before her aching ankle drops her to one knee. Grimacing, she forces through the pain. Reaching her feet she bunny hops to the ropes behind her and half-sprints half-limps toward Juliet, leaping with one leg forward, hoping to send it through the ropes with her body landing across the champion's back and drive all her 118 power-packed pounds atop the Tempe Temptress forcing her throat deeper across the cable.
Even a slowed Golden Mite is a quick Golden Mite, Janel Manning covering ground at a brisk pace and vaulting off her feet. The blonde would-be Olympian sails through the air, and lands against the Native American's shoulderblades. Clutching the top rope, the challenger allows ALL her weight to settle against the back of the Tempe Temptress, Manning bouncing atop her rasping prey. Juliet's Uggs drum the canvas behind both champion and challenger, quickly compelling the referee to step in and start a count.
Manning bounces off the battered Bloodwind and limps away, cursing under her breath. Reaching a corner, she leans in and works at her aching joint, watching as a gasping Juliet drops to her haunches then starts to pull her way up with the help of the ropes. Perfect pearlies now turned to a snarl, Manning decides she can't and won't wait any longer. Moving to Juliet, she grabs a wrist and sends Bloodwind off to the opposite ropes with a whip. Following to the middle of the ring, the Mite leaps into the air on Bloodwind's return, her muscular legs flying high to clamp around Juliet's noggin and send the Navajo through her own personal spin cycle with a hurricarana.
Just one problem: Juliet DIDN'T return. Instead, the Tempe Temptress hooks her arms around the top rope the moment her back hits the cables, bringing the Native American beauty to a jostling halt. Of course, a woman as acrobatic as the Golden Mite can adjust on the fly, and once she spots what Bloodwind has done, Manning is able to touch down on her feet--though instantly, her one ankle is sent back to throbbing, lifting that foot a couple of inches above the canvas. But that show of anguish proves momentary, and soon Janel charges the Tempe Temptress...
... only as she closes in, Juliet dips down, hoping to catch Manning and LAUNCH her over the top rope.
Ignoring the ankle as best she can, the Golden Mite forces her body forward, the muscular sprite still reaching a good clip as she looks to nail her foe with a flying forearm. Instead, Bloodwind's dip and her lowering of the top rope sends the sparkplug sailing over the uppermost cable. The ponytailed blonde crashes and burns, hitting the apron harshly on her way to spill onto the barely padded floor. Janel rolls to a heap next to the barricade, holding her injured ankle with one hand and now rubbing a shoulder with the other.
It's not too long before the Golden Mite starts to pull herself up, though she does favor her ankle as she hobbles away from the barricade. "Not so tough when she knows you're coming, huh?" one member of Navajo Nation says from the front row, prompting Janel to wheel in his direction, ready to verbally rip him a new one. One look at the fan tells her that he's not worth the effort, however, and she turns back to the ring... and into the shoulder of a flying Tempe Temptress! Juliet had shot off the far ropes and through the gap between the middle and uppermost strands, launching a dive that catches Manning in the chest, sending both beauties crashing to the floor. Springing back to her feet, Juliet turns back to the ring and dives under the bottom rope. Again, she's up quickly--and she's sprinting into the far cables as Manning struggles back to verticality. Clearly, the Tempe Temptress would not be satisfied with one dive--and it was highly improbable that TWO would quench her thirst for vengeance.
Showing wear and tear, Janel's next trip to her feet isn't anything approximating springy as the pint-sized blonde pushes to her feet. Juliet makes it two-for-two. This time she leads with a forearm as she dives through the top and middle ropes and NAILS Janel in the temple. Manning is blasted away from the shiver, backpedaling toward the steel then up and over, landing in the first row, the FAWNatics getting an up close and personal experience with Manning as she ends in some laps in a bleary-eyed stupor.
Juliet rolls up to her knees just in time to see her opponent go toppling over the guardrail. Bringing both hands up to her mouth, the Navajo warrior lets out a proud, triumphant cry before pushing back to her feet. With the Golden Mite now in the stands, Bloodwind opts against returning to the ring and going for a hat trick. Instead, she saunters over to the security barrier, reaching over to grab a handful of Janel's blonde locks. Stuffing her foe's head under her left arm, Juliet grabs a handful of spandex with her right, around Manning's hip, preparing to bring her out of the sea of FAWNatics with a suplex.
Though some certainly don't mind having Janel in their midst, a couple of the FAWNatics provide an assist in heaving all 59 inches of the Iowan up. Juliet takes it from there, keeping her foe stationed high above, letting all of Manning's blood sink to her head. Five...six...seven seconds she remains heels over head, the crowd loving every second until 'ten' sends Manning finally and emphatically over. The Mite's back SLAMS against the floor and instantly she's brought back to animation, body curling in anguish, face pinched in pain as she reaches for her lower back, grunting with each breath.
The passage of time can be a funny thing inside the FAWN Arena, different from the world outside its walls. Though Juliet had held the Golden Mite aloft for a solid ten seconds, inside the ring, the referee's count has only just ticked "SEVEN!" Which is a good thing, as the suplex had taken a fair bit out of the Tempe Temptress' back as well. Juliet groans, rubbing her lower back as she rolls over and pushes up to a hand and knees. Reaching her feet at "EIGHT!", the champ claims a handful of Janel's locks and tugs the wounded blonde up to her feet. Dragging Manning over to the ring, Bloodwind shoves the challenger underneath the bottom rope and sends her rolling toward the center with a two-handed shove. Juliet then climbs onto the apron, clutching the top rope as she waits for Janel to rise, her back to the Native American beauty. When Manning starts to turn around, Bloodwind rocks back, readying to launch herself onto the top rope, and from their springboard into a clothesline that would hopefully decapitate the Golden Mite.
(SPRINGBOARD CLOTHESLINE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=gtDsx5m2WRo )
The bigger, raven-haired champ launches to her staging ground, namely the top rope, then uses the tension to get all froggie on the ponytailed sparkplug. Juliet spingboards toward a wobbly-looking Manning with arm drawn, ready to remove her foe's head from her shoulders. But the former Olympian springs to life herself leaping into a dropkick. Instead of a missile pointed down, the Mite's points up toward the descending jaw of the Navajo warrior.
Gracefully flying through the air is challenging enough, but CHANGING course mid-flight is harder still--and in this case, for Juliet Bloodwind, it proves impossible. Janel's soles shoot into the Tempe Temptress' chin, striking with a 'THWACK!' that sends the Navajo's head snapping backward. The rest of Bloodwind's body soon follows suit, the champion hitting the canvas with a loud 'THUNK!' A groaning Juliet rolls to her stomach, her hands reaching to the back of her neck.
"Don't even try and steal my game," Janel grunts as she crawls to the Tempe Temptress and wraps the champ's head up in the crook of her left elbow. Manning rises to her knees, forcing Bloodwind there as well and wrenches again. The Golden Mite works the neck then brings Juliet to her boot leather, Manning, of course, on the balls of her bare feet. The blonde digs a nasty knee into the pit of Jules' breadbasket, doubling Bloodwind over. Manning then starts to gather up the arms of the lowered Bloodwind in a double underhook, preparing to clamp her muscular thighs down on either temple of the Temptress then roll to her back and stretch the legs of the overturned Juliet if she could get to the end of her signature Iron Butterfly.
(IRON BUTTERFLY:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=xtlnYqY7ZdI )
When Juliet feels Janel's inner thighs start to press against her skull, the Native American warrior can't help but wish they don't lock tight--again, trapped in a Janel Manning scissors is the last place just about any FAWN talent wants to find herself. Little does the Tempe Temptress realize how soon she might be wishing to face a mere scissorhold instead. With Bloodwind's arms gathered up and secured, the Golden Mite rocks to her back, hoisting the defending IC champ off her feet. Those feet soon find themselves hooked by Manning's, and once Janel has them grapevined, she begins to stretch her legs out--forcing Juliet's along. The ex-gymnast certainly didn't have the longest legs in FAWN, but their strength can make up for those deficiencies--and it's not long before Bloodwind's hammies are SCREAMING in agony, with Jules herself howling along with them.
"What do you say, Jules?" the ref asks, and the wailing Navajo shakes her head, the back of her skull resting against Janel's crotch. Her resolve is admirable, but there's essentially nothing else she can do--not with her limbs thoroughly trussed up, nowhere near the ropes. The only thing that can save the Tempe Temptress' title reign at this moment is precisely how long the Golden Mite can KEEP her trapped this way.
The spandex-clad challenger stretches Juliet's copper-skinned lower limbs as far and for as long as she can, but after a dozen seconds of Bloodwind refusing to give in, Manning is forced to relax and her shoulders drop to the canvas. The vigilant zebra slaps the mat for ONE and Janel forces the shoulders up long enough to draw Bloodwind's groin muscles to the snapping point before she flops back to the canvas. This time giving in, Janel tucks her legs and releases the champ, shoving her away and rolling to her feet. "You liked that, didn't you?" she chirps to the crowd, beaming grin blossoming. "Right where she belongs, right?" Manning grabs an aching Juliet by her wrists and drags her in front of a corner, while the Temptress kneads at her thighs. With the champ laid out on the mat, Janel moves to the corner, hopping to the bottom ropes first and when the blonde fireplug launches into a moonsault toward Bloodwind’s open tummy, the crowd knows if she hits one, she;ll be going for the trifecta.
(MOONSAULT TRIFECTA @ 1:52:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=LREyxW75zcY )
As much pain as the Tempe Temptress is in at the moment, the wheels in her mind are still turning. When Janel vaults off the bottom buckle and twists into a picture perfect--if low altitude--moonsault, Bloodwind understands that there's not enough time or space her her to roll out of the way. That still leaves Juliet's knees at her service, and she starts to tuck them in toward her chest...
... but they barely begin their ascent before the Navajo's enflamed hamstrings bring their rise to a halt. Bloodwind's yelp of pain is promptly transformed into a "GUUUPPPPPPHHHHHHH!!!!!!" as Manning's pint-sized, power-packed frame crushes the air out of her lungs. The Golden Mite is up quickly, springing over Juliet and hopping onto the middle turnbuckle, from which she launches a second moonsault, every bit as beautiful as the first. Now, for Juliet, there IS enough time and enough space for the Tempe Temptress to roll to safety--but there's not enough oxygen remaining in her lungs to fuel such a roll.
Again, Bloodwind lets out a loud gasp, her eyes bulging as her body folds up around the tiny but built blonde. This time, Janel allows herself a moment's pause in the corner after popping back to her feet, comfortable in the knowledge that the champion isn't going ANYWHERE now. But after basking in the displeasure of Navajo Nation, the Golden Mite VAULTS to the top turnbuckle, and launches into another stunning acrobatic display...
... that ends just as the previous two had, with Manning's chiseled, spandex-clad stomach splashing down across Juliet's tummy, sending the Native American's stems flying up into the air.
"Bronze, silver and especially gold out of that," the winded Manning bleats as she throws her tiny muscular frame across the softened Native American. The ponytailed blonde's bicep bulges as she rolls Bloodwind into a tight ball, cradling her, shoulders down, ass pointed to the rafters. "Give me my gold," Janel says to no one in particular, though it might be the ref. He drops to the canvas to slap the mat...
ONE...
TWO...
THRENOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!
At the last possible instant, Juliet's legs summon the strength to kick Bloodwind's way to freedom. As the Golden Mite is sent to a seated position, the Navajo warrior tumbles over, curling into a bell, her still-aching thighs clinched together. Manning fixes the ref with her most incredulous glare, which says a good thousand words on her behalf--which is good, as Janel herself appears speechless.
"Just two," the zebra assures her.
Meanwhile, the Tempe Temptress starts to roll to her side, toward the ropes. Janel couldn't take the title away from her on the floor, and Bloodwind needed time to get her legs back into service.
Manning, wanting nothing to do with Juliet getting outside, both because she couldn't win the title out there and the result the last time she found herself there, snatches an ankle and starts to drag Juliet back toward the center. But a determined Bloodwind shakes off her challenger and slides under, landing on her feet. The raven-haired grappler doubles over, drawing in great inhales. A frustrated Janel berates herself for letting Juliet get to the wiles of the floor, but the blonde munchkin puts the past aside and goes for broke, trying to match Bloodwind's bravado by sprinting toward the ropes and vaulting toward an arc over the top cable, planing to splash the Native American beauty far below.
Having done her due diligence on Janel Manning, as she did every challenger, Juliet Bloodwind knows that the floor is not the Golden Mite's domain--and that element of surprise buys Janel a moment as she launches herself over the ropes. But knowing that any competitor worth her salt in FAWN would throw out all the stops in the quest for championship gold, it buys her ONLY a moment. As Manning descends on her, the Tempe Temptress drops into a tensed crouch, raising her arms to catch the flying Mite, which she does...
... but as she does, the lingering damage from Janel's Iron Butterfly sends a tremor through Juliet's legs. Unable to support both herself AND Manning, Bloodwind collapses to the floor, Janel landing bodily atop her.
Manning packs plenty into her 59 inches and her frame knocks Bloodwind into the thinly-padded floor, CRASHING across the chest of the Temptress and sandwiching the champ. If the title match was 'falls count anywhere' the belt might have been Manning's right there, but the little blonde sparkplug knows well there's no reason to stay tight to the reeling Bloodwind when she can cause more havoc. Naturally, Janel looks for a high point and pops back to the canvas above the splayed raven-haired grappler. But she doesn't stop there, going all the way to the top of the nearest set of buckles. Taking a moment to gather herself, Manning skies into the Orlando night, aiming an elbow at the cleft of Juliet's bosom, but it's no ordinary drop, not that any could be from Janel's summit. No. Manning leaps into a backflip, soaring then diving in a shooting star elbow.
(SHOOTING STAR ELBOW @ :30:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hb5edjH0TXM )
The FAWNatics might be seeing it, but very, VERY few could believe it. Not that the Golden Mite going to the top rope is a particularly uncommon occurrence--but almost universally, her would-be target was inside the ring, not sprawled out on the floor. And then, WHEN Janel takes flight, it's not some simple crossbody or splash, or even something as athletically impressive though commonplace as a moonsault. No, Janel rotates in a stunning shooting star, her compact frame sailing from the heavens to beyond her usual landing point by a good few feet. The Golden Mite's elbow is cocked, and were Juliet Bloodwind to roll out of the way, Manning's joint wouldn't meet harsh canvas, but potentially injurious concrete...
Fortunately, at least for Janel, her tawny, glistening crashpad DOESN'T move, and her elbow SLAMS into Bloodwind's juggs. The shooting star elbow, from an even greater height in the ring, sends the Tempe Temptress into a fit of violent convulsion, Juliet rocking back and forth. But Janel's landing is anything but heavenly, the Golden Mite letting out a groan of anguish as she rolls to her back as well. And the FAWNatics have little choice but to leap to their feet with a chant of "HO-LY SHYT!" However, just as the crowd had been compelled to act, so too is the referee... and now comes the very real possibility that BOTH of these gladiators might find themselves counted out.
Janel winces as she rolls her left shoulder, looking up at the official, his count at EIGHT. Panic overcoming pain, she kips up just enough to stumble to the apron, roll in and roll out, starting a new count and perhaps a doomsday clock on Juliet's reign. With the FAWNatics still buzzing at the Mite's incredible journey to break the Intercontinental champion, the dirty blonde's ponytail swooshes from side to side as Manning works the deadweight of the Native American to her feet. It's no easy task, but the muscular munchkin shoves the copper-skinned deadweight in under the bottom rope, Manning quickly following behind.
Eschewing the pin, a sweat-soaked, spandex-clad Janel pulls the limp dish rag of a champ to her feet. From behind, Janel crosses Bloodwind's arms across the throat of the Tempe Temptress, preparing to leap and tuck her knees into Juliet's shoulderblades and blast the hell out of Bloodwind with the straightjacket lungblower which, if Manning could manage, would morph into a straightjacket camel clutch, the combo that everyone in FAWN knows is The Perfect Ten.
(PERFECT TEN:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=vudL_Iwg35I )
Things look perhaps as bleak as they ever have for the Tempe Temptress since she had become Intercontinental champion... but as Janel starts to draw Bloodwind's own arms tight across her throat, Juliet sends a mule kick back into the pit of the Golden Mite's spandex-sheathed, washboard abdomen. It's not a massively strong shot--after everything Juliet had been through to this point, how could it hope to be? But it does the job, breaking Manning's grasp enough to earn the champ a reprieve--however brief. Her arms flying out in front of her once Janel's grasp is broken, the Tempe Temptress takes a faltering step forward, needing a moment to right herself. But holding onto her championship by her fingernails, Juliet digs down.
Doing her best to ignore her exhaustion, the leadenness of her arms and the still-lingering burning in her thighs, Bloodwind reaches back and over her shoulder. Finding some of Janel's golden locks, she starts to pull the Golden Mite's jaw over her shoulder, intending to charge toward the near corner as quickly as her weary kegs could carry her, desperate to connect with her Bloodhawk Plunge.
(BLOODHAWK PLUNGE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=gMuGREYMsVs )
As stunned as she is hurting, Janel can't stop the windwalking Bloodwind as she takes the former gymnast along for the ride to the corner. The muscular munchkin's strength is used against her as Bloodwind uses Janel as her base to scale the ropes on one side of the corner, reach the top buckle, and spin both women into a violent u-turn. And while the champion lays out, Janel's face and forehead are DRIVEN into the deck with incredible force, the crowd reflexively groaning but just as quickly cheering the Plunge and the sight of Manning's mug to canvas and unmoving.
Bloodwind's impact sends the Tempe Temptress herself flopping over to her stomach, where she puddles into a nearly motionless heap. Aware that Juliet's hard-earned chance to retain might be slipping away, Navajo Nation IMPLORES their champion to get her delightful derriere in gear. In takes a few uncomfortably long second for Bloodwind to pull herself out of her ball and to start dragging her way toward Janel. Pushing the Golden Mite over to her back, the Tempe Temptress does little more than throw her near deadweight atop the challenger, unable to reach for a leg as the ref slaps the...
ONE...
TWO...
THRENOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!
Manning gets a shoulder up. Juliet rolls to her back, reclining against the muscular munchkin for a couple of heartbeats before finding the strength to overcome her disappoint and power--in a manner of speaking--to her feet. Grunting as she pulls Janel back to verticality as well, Juliet sends Janel staggering back into the corner with a shove before stumbling in after her. And when the Tempe Temptress draws back her choppin' hand, the FAWNatics know a Massacre is looming on the horizon.
(KNIFE EDGE MASSACRE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=8doUJsDnGL8 )
And Bloodwind lights up the chest of the vertically-challenged blonde, lowering her chops but not slowing down the speed of the wicked craaacking open hands. Manning seems to take more power with each chop, her body bouncing from the blistering attack. Just as it seems she's overwhelmed, the blonde reaches forward and grabs Juliet by the shoulders. Manning spins Bloodwind and takes her place in front of the champ, loading up a chop that Juliet catches nimbly. The Navajo uses the grip on Janel's wrist to spin them again and unloads another slaphappy fusillade on the battered Mite.
With her hand starting to sting, Juliet ends the barrage. But as much as her choppin' hand aches, that doesn't stop the Tempe Temptress from reaching out and securing a grip on the Golden Mite's wrist. Setting her feet, Bloodwind attempts to send Janel sprinting across the ring with an Irish whip, into the far corner. Whether she could employ enough strength to send Manning crashing to a seat after the toll of this war is questionable, but if she could, the Tempe Temptress would follow her challenger in for a Panic Attack.
(PANIC ATTACK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=71snnULKf4g )
The blaze of pink and pumping legs crosses the squared circle in an instant, only Janel's quick reflexes allowing her to turn before she strikes the buckles at warp speed. Even with her low center of gravity and power-packed stems, the heat of battle and the force of the impact unhinges Janel's legs and she drops to her pear-shaped behind, gams extended in front of her. The dazed gaze and bobbling head of the former gymnast is a red cape for Bloodwind. The champ sprints to her foe and NAILS Janel's temple with a battering knee that rocks the skull and the world of the blonde.
Grabbing Manning by the ankles, Bloodwind drags the nearly insensate Golden Mite away from the corner... then launches herself in a flip over Janel's powerful, compact frame, securing a jackknife pin. The official slides into place, checks Janel's shoulders, and then slaps the...
ONE...
TWO...
THREENOOOOO....
Manning's hands flash upward, slamming into the flanks of the Tempe Temptress, just hard enough to break the brunette's grip--and the cover. But adrenaline spurs the champ to rise quickly, peeling Manning up with a handful of hair. Bullying the Golden Mite back into the ropes, Juliet sends Janel off to the races with another Irish whip, this one into the ropes. Moving to meet the Mite at mid-ring, Bloodwind dips, preparing to toss Janel onto her shoulders and into a fireman's carry, ready to nail her Pop-Up Samoan Drop.
(POP-UP SAMOAN DROP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=OHt4woO9yig )
Again, Manning is off for the ride, racing to the ropes and rebounding toward the waiting death trap. The Navajo bars Janel's advance, thrusting her hands into Manning's modest chest and HEAVING the diminutive blonde HIGH into the air. The bugeyed Mite falls across Juliet's shoulders, the crowd roaring. But the enthusiasm and the fatal blow is cut short when Manning manages to slip down the back of the champ. Juliet reflexively reaches over her shoulders to snatch at the descending Janel and the Golden Mite takes what's offered, collecting Juliet's wrists. Before the crowd or Juliet seems to understand what's gone wrong, the arms of the Temptress are bound in an 'X' across her throat and Janel is lifting off into a tuck, her knees rising toward Juliet's shoulderblades, ready to start a belated but perfectly awesome Perfect Ten.
(PERFECT TEN:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=vudL_Iwg35I )
And this time, the Golden Mite shoots into the air before Juliet Bloodwind can even THINK of launching a mule kick.
As Manning's knee rise to meet Bloodwind's back, the rest of the challenger goes into full reverse, Juliet RIPPED from her feet. The Navajo warrior's journey comes to an abrupt end when her back CRASHES into those bony joints, the impact forcing a gust of breath out of the brunette that her own arms very nearly strangle. But that's just the beginning. Nudging Bloodwind over to her belly, Janel quickly settles into a crouch atop the Native American's back, leeeeeaaaning and CRANKING back on Juliet's wings. In the blink of an eye, the Tempe Temptress had gone from resurgent to caught dead to rights.
There was nowhere to go, not with Manning's weight effectively pinning her stomach to the canvas. Bloodwind's ONLY hope for survival rests in being able to wrench her arms loose from the Golden Mite's grasp...
The muscular Mite is just as tall as Juliet when both are on the mat, the ponytailed blonde with just as much or more strength to boot. Throw in a ready made set of reins, Juliet effectively cutting off her own air supply with the arms crossing on her throat and the growing arch in her spinal column, Bloodwind's golden-skinned chest thrust forward against its thin covering and Jules is caught in a terrible, "perfect" trap. The champ's face is a picture of pain, dark eyes half-lidded, teeth clenched. She tries to tug her arms free but Janel has a white-knuckle grip on her foe's wrists and leeans back, forcing Juliet's backbone into a wicked 'C' shape.
And of course, the longer Janel could keep her grip secure, the more Juliet's arms sap her strength... and the weaker Bloodwind's efforts to pull them loose become. "Nuuuhhh... nuuuhhhhhhh.... nuuuoooooooooooohhhhhhhhh..." the Tempe Temptress whimpers, even as her arms begin to grow slack, and the beating of her Uggs against the canvas begins to fade. Was she refusing to submit? Or attempting to deny the increasingly inevitable?
Janel Manning couldn't care less either way. Sealing her eyes shut, the Golden Mite leans back as far as she can, the crowd gasping in fear as it looks like Juliet's spine might snap at any moment. "GYYYYAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..." the champ shrieks, her eyelids fluttering, even as tears begin to streak down her cheeks. "Guuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhh...." the Tempe Temptress gurgles again, her voice soften, fading. "guuuhhhhhhhh... guuuuhhhhhhhhhh.... ghhhhvvvvvvvveeeee...."
Refusing to loosen her grip even as the woman beneath her grows more slack by the second, the noises from her foe more unintelligible, Janel bellows, "Am I too small now?" or tries to in her slightly squeaky register. "Give it to me," Janel grunts as she rises out of her crouch and into a stance, only to drop backward into a bridge, landing on the crown of her head, increasing the curve in Bloodwind's spine to a fearsome degree, The Perfect Ten if anything, now a spinal tapping Perfect Eleven.
"ASK HER," Janel demands/pleads.
Bloodwind's eyes SNAP back open as Janel falls back into a sickening bridge--and from the Tempe Temptress' lips comes an even more chilling, fearsome shriek of agony. Fortunately, if that's the right word, Juliet's cry is as blood curdling as it is brief, the Navajo's eyes drifting to whites as her lids droop closed for a final time. Bloodwind's lips remained purse, her tongue just prodding through.
"Jules?" the ref asks, only to repeat her name louder and more urgently when there is no response. When that query also meets with silence, he immediately waves toward the timekeeper's table.
"SHE'S OUT!" the ref shouts. "RING THE BELL!!!!!"
Even as the bell tolls continuously for several seconds, Manning does not release. Not until she hears the ring announcer call out her name. "Your winner....AND NEW INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPION...JANEL MANNING!"
The words seem to cut the string, the Golden Mite releasing Juliet's arms, the beaten Navajo, title holder no longer, snapping forward, her face thumping against the deck, Bloodwind out cold. Beside her, Janel remains on her back, her perfect pearlies emerging. She manages to raise her arms to the sounds of an unhappy audience. The chipmunk-checked, chiseled champion kips up to her feet. "Don't call it an upset!" Janel assures loudly between heavy breaths. The ref grabs her right wrist and raises it high. Manning hops into the air, sticking her double-footed landing atop Juliet's faux deerskin top, even that not rousing Bloodwind.
"I told you I was golden," Janel shouts, the ref snapping her IC belt in place, "and let's see anyone say otherwise now!"