Post by SammieSinclair on Apr 8, 2015 12:08:49 GMT
The FAWN Arena, Primetime
JOANNA COLEMAN:
JANEL MANNING:
Red Jumpsuit Apparatus was still fading into the background when Janel Manning hopped down from the ropes facing the hard camera and sauntered back to Joanna Coleman, who waited patiently in the middle of the squared circle. Dressed in a glitter-dusted, blood red version of her usual leopard print leotard, FAWN’s newest Intercontinental Champion shrugged the strap a little higher on one shoulder and gave the faceplate a protective pat.
That was as good an opening as any, so Joanna raised her mic and said, “Good evening FAWNatics, I’m here with the Mightiest Mite in the land, Janel Manning. Janel, congratulations on an impressive win over Juliet Bloodwind back at Bloody Valentines.”
Instead of nodding a thanks or even rolling her eyes, Manning scowled like she smelled something so foul as to prove offensive. “You’re right Joanna, it WAS an impressive win. I didn’t just BEAT Juliet, I tied her up, wore her down and eventually choked her overmatched ass OUT. It was the first glorious step in an Intercontinental Title reign that will eventually match, then surpass Jenny Jacobs’s record setting run. And yet, I find myself unable to enjoy it in the slightest. Do you know why that is, Joanna?”
Coleman knew she was in dangerous territory, so she made sure to keep her answer as bland and inoffensive as possible. “I can’t say as I do. It was a clean, decisive win as far as I’m concerned.”
“You’re damned right it was!” Janel stomped one tiny foot for emphasis. “It was one helluva win and yet there’s only one thing, ONE THING, that everyone’s been talking about since Bloody Valentines!”
What exactly that was had to wait a little bit longer as Manning whirled away from the interviewer and stomped to the edge of the ring. Snapping her fingers at a FAWN tech who already looked remarkably nervous, Janel extended one hand and was promptly offered the innocuous brown paper sleeve one often saw wrapped around magazines of questionable content. Prize in hand, she went back to Coleman, peeled off the paper and practically smashed the newest issue of Gladiatrix against Joanna’s chest.
“Tell me, Coleman, where do you see any mention of my dismantling of Princess Bloodynose on that cover?”
A light bulb went off over Joanna’s head. She knew exactly where this was going. After making a cursory check if only for form’s sake, she shook her head ‘no’ and said, “It‘s down there in the lower right hand corner.”
Janel looked ready to spit. “Yes, down there at the very bottom in what’s MAYBE eight point font. But who’s taking up all my valuable space, Joanna? Whose stupid, preening face is plastered all over that damned rag?”
“That would be FAWN’s new Lightweight Champion, Lily Burlingame.”
Mere mention of the former Cherry Bomb raised a loud cheer from the crowd and set Janel to a slow boil. “That’s right, Lily freakin’ Burlingame. I TROUNCE one of the greatest champions this place has ever seen, but does anyone give a shyt? Nooooooooo! All they care about is some spoiled rich girl who lied about an injury to pretend she was some interstellar clown who managed a fluke win over a chick not fit to fold my leotard. Let me tell you something Joanna, I’m absolutely sick of this disrespect, but I’m not going to piss and moan about it, oh no. I’m going to deal with it like I would any other problem. Head on.” With that, she snatched the mic from Coleman’s fingers and whirled to face the entryway. “Cherry Bomb! Lily Burlingame! Whatever the hell it is you’re calling yourself now, listen up! As of this moment, I don’t have a challenger for March to War, and I KNOW there’s no line out the door to tangle with a no talent spot monkey like you, so here’s a brilliant idea. You and me, March to War. Winner’s a dual champion. Loser’s a…who am I kidding? The loser is you. What do you say, space freak? Got the guts to face FAWN’s greatest athlete without your chintzy little dime store--”
BWOOOOOM!
A colossal explosion of red pyro atop the stage segued directly into ‘Comeback Kid’ and brought the FAWNatics to their feet in a single stroke. Along with the sound and fury came the woman herself, Lily launching up from a trapdoor in the stage to land in a nimble crouch. Straightening up after a moment, the limber little brunette unsnapped the belt from around her waist and held it aloft for the crowd, who cheered far too appreciatively for Manning’s taste. Like her would-be opponent, Burlingame was dressed in her battle togs, a sports bra top and matching bottoms done in jet black with slashes of red and white, basically a much darker version of her traditional Cherry Bomb attire. Meeting Janel’s gaze, Lily tipped her a mischievous wink, then broke into an explosive sprint that took her from one end of the ramp to the other in practically no time at all.
LILY BURLINGAME:
Janel saw her coming and got ready to attack only to curse when Burlingame dove, not just under the bottom rope, but between the IC champ’s legs. Lily popped to her feet in an instant and threw an arm around Joanna, who couldn’t help but smile. “Hey Jo, good to see you again. Not letting Janel talk your ear off I hope. She does tend to hog the microph--” Janel closed in and chested up hard, forcing her fellow lightweight back on her heels. The Star Strider tossed her belt down and returned the chest bump in kind.
Coleman thought the tension would hold for a little while longer so she signaled to the same tech who’d offered Gladiatrix to Janel. Armed with a replacement mic, Joanna said, “Ladies, there’s no need to violence just yet! Janel, you’ve made some rather salient points about your Intercontinental victory, it seems only fair to grant Lily a chance to retort.” With that she handed the microphone to Burlingame, who took it without letting her eyes leave Janel.
Reasonably certain the little snot wasn’t going to start anything from something so level as a stare-down, Lily backed up the tiniest bit. “It’s ok, Joanna, I’m not going to come out here and crap all over Janel’s win. Like you both said, it was a good win and it should be recognized as such. But I do take issue with the fact that I’m somehow less worthy of attention because… why exactly? I won the title wearing a mask? I’m not a former Olympian? Or--”
“How about all of the above, punk?” Janel barked.
Lily’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “I wasn’t done, sweetie. Or is it because I didn’t stamp my foot and throw a tantrum like a spoiled, petulant brat? That IS what you medaled in, isn’t it Janel? First ever perfect score in the event of Hysterical Bytching, as I rec--”
Janel flicked out a hand that CRAAACKED across Burlingame’s cheek. “Took the gold in Bytch Slapping too, bytch.” she growled. “Now do you accept my challenge or noNNNNNGGGHHH!”
Lily swiveled her head to the side with a backhand so stiff it sent Manning reeling almost to the ropes. “Challenge accepted, ass hat.” Lily cooed. “Not my first choice for first challenger, though. I would’ve rather had Domi Daly instead of Domi Daly without the charisma or top gear, but I’m not about to start turning down--”
The Mightiest Mite flung herself at the brunette and might’ve gotten herself some if Burlingame hadn’t spun aside and grabbed her by the nape of the neck. Using Manning’s own momentum against her, Lily raced to the other side of the squared circle and sent Janel soaring out into the void. Manning’s very real gymnastic pedigree allowed her to adjust in mid-flight and land on the floor without incident, but the flawless recovery did nothing to cover the scarlet burn in her cheeks.
“GIMME MY BELT!” she pounded a fist against the apron and glared daggers at Lily and Joanna. “I MEAN IT YOU RUNT, GIVE ME MY BELT RIGHT NOW OR SO HELP ME I’LL--”
“Oh, you mean this belt?” Lily picked it up off the mat and slung it over one shoulder as soon as she’d done the same for her own strap. “Sure, just a second.”
Sidling up alongside Coleman, she helped herself to the Gladiatrix and a marker the commentator carried for just such an occasion. She scribbled a dedication on the cover, then sauntered over to the edge and made a show of dangling the IC belt before dropping it on its rightful owner. The Gladiatrix followed shortly thereafter, with Janel catching it more on instinct than anything else. The cover now bore this inscription:
Janel,
Need to lose ten pounds fast? Don’t worry, you’ll drop it all at once at March to War!
Your favorite wrestler,
Lily Burlingame
Janel ripped the magazine in half and flung it away. “You bytch. I’m going to tear you apart.”
Lily only patted the faceplate of her own belt. “Not gonna be so easy as that, Janey. I’ll give you a helluva lot more fight than a few papercuts.”
The blonde snorted in disgust, flung the IC title over one shoulder and stalked away up the ramp amidst a torrent of boos.
Pleased to be out of immediate danger, Joanna picked up one of the discarded mics and looked to the nearest camera. “You heard it here first, FAWNatics! At March to War it’ll be champion versus champion with both titles on the line! Who will add their name to the prestigious list of dual title holders? You’ll have to tune in to find out!”