Post by SammieSinclair on Apr 12, 2015 14:45:09 GMT
The sound of ‘God Save The Queen’ erupts from the sound system, halting the murmur of the expectant FAWNatics.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=tN9EC3Gy6Nk
Knowing the Boarding School Princess is on the way, the crowd lets its disapproval loose the boos echoing through the bowl and it grows louder still when Space’s The Female of the Species rolls over the top of England’s anthem.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=F1NBpVKWh_c&ob=av2e
After a few long seconds, a distinctly worried looking redhead shuffles to centre stage, appearing as though she wants to be anywhere but there. Cromwell has a microphone already in hand.
Elizabeth Cromwell
“Cut my music,” she was going to demand, only for the Titantron to cut out prematurely, her graphics popping with a straggled gargle before disappearing entirely. Lizzie swallowed, looking backwards over her own shoulder before turning her searching gaze to every shadowed corner of the arena. Uncertainty infused her every molecule, this past year one disaster followed quickly by another, and with the formally cocksure young women rattled into a shadow of her former self, even the FAWNatics were beginning to find it difficult to kick her while she was down.
Cromwell has her head on a swivel as she strides down the ramp and aisle. Lizzie’s blue bikini bottoms are tied at each hip, ‘BSP’ emblazoned in bold white strokes across her backside. Above that remains the familiar sports bra containing a twisting blend of the colours of her UK with a black outline of the British flag on her right breast.
The curious crowd holds their collective tongue.
Cromwell both considers and abandons each new statement as she walks around the squared circle, pulling the mic to her unsure lips before pushing it away, checking under the apron as she reaches each side of the ring for whatever gremlins or past sins might be waiting for her tonight.
Satisfied, Elizabeth stomps up the ring steps and moves to the centre of the squared circle. Cromwell draws the ‘stick’ to her pursed lips, huffing over what she wanted to say, what defiant gesture she could make as her eyes were drawn inexorably towards the curtains and whatever phantom opponent she was scheduled to fight against, left to fret over who it could be.
Before she could speak, finally finding the words to do so, the mic was taken from her hands by the ring Announcer, such a thing rarely heard of in this, or any ring, leaving Cromwell flabbergasted beyond belief.
“Sorry Liz,” the man apologised, without a great deal of sincerity the red head noted, “Captains orders.”
“Captain?” Lizzie stammered, her cheeks flushing with indignation, all but ready to chest up to the Announcer and demand her property back, that single action bringing some level of her Bratty Bravado surging right back up to the surface. No-one took the mic from her. No-One!! “What Captain!?!”
www.youtube.com/watch?v=KvLDJIKjWyo
The pounding, ominous beginnings of Disturbed’s “The Game” fill the arena. Moments later, the face of the FAWN hierarchy, Bethany Christian steps onto the ramp and onto the stage. And in spite of a large portion of the audience loathing her, the statuesque brunette still awed most with her appearance.
Bethany Christian
For the briefest of moments the FAWNatics believed that Director of Operations was about to step into the ring herself, standing revealed as Elizabeth’s surprise opponent for the evening. Such speculations were quickly dismissed however as the navy blue, yet surprisingly suggestive pant suit she wore was more in key with her current position than the years of wrestling behind her. With a smile that was robbed of warmth, one of the most powerful women in the industry brought her own microphone to her lips, waiting patiently and without fluster for the pause in the spectators prattling she knew was coming.
“Elizabeth Cromwell,” she began, earning the undivided attention of the red head in the ring, “what am I supposed to do with you?”
Lizzie opened her mouth to speak, to shout if she had to after being denied her own ‘stick’, but there was to be no opportunity for her to do so.
“At first it didn’t seem so long ago that I moved heaven and earth to bring you here, that scrappy bit of talent that no-one else had faith in and yet I demanded be given an opportunity. And regardless of what the pessimists may say, this is the land of opportunity, but now, Lizzie, now it feels like a lifetime ago.” Bethany’s smile faded, and that warmth that was already absent chilled even more considerably, “I have been forced to watch you spiral into insignificance, frankly, it’s become embarrassing, for me that is, for you it’s just humiliating. I have two, two Developmental Leagues bursting with fresh, new talent just begging for the opportunities that you have been squandering, and tonight I’m going to give it to them.”
Finally, there was a pause, an opportunity for Cromwell to speak her piece, but as the colour drained slowly from her features, the FAWNatics also found themselves unable to heckle the World’s Brattiest Brits mounting misfortune.
“Tonight you won’t just be competing for your lacking pride Ms. Cromwell,” Christian’s mannerisms became one of someone efficiently plunging in a knife and twisting it with pleasure, “tonight you will be fighting for your career. Tonight, this will be a Contract Match! Win, and you will be allowed to cling onto what is left of it, lose and, well, you can consider your stay here over, and your opponents will use you as a stepping stone to success.”
Her bombshell dropped, Bethany turned smartly on her heel to vacate only to stop at the moment. “Oh, and you heard me correctly. Unless there is a charitable soul backstage willing to risk facing the same stipulations beside you, this will also be a Handicap Match!!”
With Lizzie’s lips open in a stutter, she was at least not left to wonder just who it was that was determined to take away her future...
www.youtube.com/watch?v=9zuxJlCh618
Whilst the music was unfamiliar to the FAWN Faithful, a track entitled ‘Doomsday’ seemed appropriate considering the circumstances and, barely a scant few moments, the heralds of the Brit’s own strut out onto the stage.
Daisy LeMay
Alejandra Fernandez
The identity of Alejandra was not immediately apparent for the Orlando occupants, but the more astute amongst their ranks recognised her five foot three, one hundred and twenty-three pound frame as a promising Jungle, Lightweight Powerhouse and former partner to one Soledad Sanchez. While she herself arrived with little fanfare, she embodied plenty of threat, rolling her shoulders and filling out every inch of her black leather one piece, the neckline of which plunged almost directly down to just north of her navel, with menace. Her eyes were only for Cromwell, matching the outnumbered Brits stature and then some.
It was Daisy LeMay who earned the most immediate response, the FAWNatics letting their displeasure be known almost from the moment of her arrival. The Babyfaced blonde was wearing enough pink lace and floral patterns to confuse the uninitiated, even her most practiced ‘butter wouldn’t melt’ expression could fool the vast majority for even a moment. She seemed to revel in it, mocking them with the sweetest of smiles as she skipped with hands behind her back, surely not the one responsible for blindsiding and demolishing one of FAWN’s favourites.
Swiftly they descended upon the squared circle and the trapped Cromwell, talking opposite directions as they circled the ring as if cornering their victim. Lizzie, by contrast, looked distinctly uncertain, looking between her opponents and all four corners, unable to find one that could be considered safety.
Although LeMay was clearly reluctant to put her new, red headed plaything out of her misery, Daisy made the decision for her and directed Fernandez to the ringside closest to the aisle, closing off the possible exit for the Brit. Climbing and sliding into the ring with the confidence of those with the deck stacked firmly in their favour, the blonde and brunette both choice to scowl and smirk in their own ways as LeMay took a proffered stick.
“Nothing personal red,” Daisy cooed, although honesty was lacking. “Oh, who am I kidding, this is plenty personal. We’re taking what’s yours Lizzie, and we’re going to beat you half to death to do it. Are we good?” LeMay smiled with sickening sweetness, “Good, now ring the bell halfwit!” she turned her frosting covered ire onto the Official, her words at odds with her tone, “No-one else is going to be stupid enough to come out here!”
The Official, however, would not be cowed and, as Lizzie gave the first pleading look of her young life, he was willing to allow a few brief moments to pass, a chance for someone, anyone, to step forwards...
The silence that followed was long enough to be uncomfortable, and it was only as Cromwell was about to give up hope, when the duo that sought to replace her were at their smuggest, the speakers ripped into renewed life!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=b5zXinAj5TI
For a few, fleeting moments, the unfamiliar chords caught the FAWN Faithful flat footed, for while the undeniably upbeat rhythm encouraged a positive reception, they weren’t entirely certain if they should be believing what they were seeing. The moment the all too familiar and all too endearing graphic for the Upstart Nation flashed into view upon FAWNTRON however, all hesitation was discarded and a hearty cheer ripped forth across the packed arena as the Loyalist Legionnaires, gathered in their thousands, pledged their allegiance to the peppiest of factions once more.
The moment Samantha Sinclair appeared on stage, regardless of the reason, that was when the FAWNatics truly lost their sh*t, the Leader of the Upstart Nation standing as tall as her perfectly petite mass would allow her, catching the light in all the right places as she whipped both her arms up high and waved. Five foot four and one hundred and ten pounds of athletically sculptured, miniature might, Sammie Sinclair was every inch the People’s Princess as she cheered back, shimmering in her golden/yellow attire and blushing fiercely with her dimple, freckled cheeks flushing a delightful crimson.
Samantha Sinclair
Her change in tunes was not the only alteration for a new year as, on her first PPV of twenty-fifteen she also sported a fresh variation on her snugly fitting and bright ensemble. Her sports bra remained the same, smoothly curved about her small, proud bosom, leaving her softly sculptured tummy bare and her upraised arms the same way. It was to be her boy cut shorts that had apparently vanished, replaced instead by a short skirt which, with a generous slit running up the right side, revealed a wonderful shot of her firm thigh as the baby brown eyed darling hopped up onto her tip toes and spiralled. Her boots were similarly altered, still bright blue and reaching upwards to just beneath her kneecaps, they were now tanned from firm leather and sported lacing right up the front.
With the flourish of her spiral completed, the People’s Princess set her feet apart and kept her fingers wiggling heavenwards, nodding to her followers with a knowing smirk and, as she brought her palms together for a loud CLAP!! the Loyalist Legionnaires followed through as one.
ONCE!
TWICE!!
THRICE!!!
And with her statement of intent made clear she pointed directly towards the squared circle, a hearty explosion of pyrokenetics erupting to either side of the stage that she was standing on. Samantha Sinclair was here and, with a joy induced skip she head down the aisle at a swift sprint, the second generation superstar with chocolate curls bouncing free about her slender shoulders now a little older, a little wiser and, after the last year was no longer only of Championship Pedigree, she was of proven Championship Quality. The girl was now a young woman, and she was looking all the bolder for it.
Fearless? Perhaps not, the Little Sparrow would be the first to admit to her short fallings, but nerve?
She most defiantly had nerve.
The moment Sinclair reached the squared circle, the Golden Girl took her short detour right ways and, much to the delight of those who found themselves closet, Sammie began clapping every outstretched hand that she discovered, paying particular attention to the youngest in attendance. Beating a fast track around the ring, she soon found herself back at start, a run, skip and jump taking her clean up onto the apron. Grasping the top coil with both her paws, the Bright Eyed Wonder leaned back and, following a cheeky shake her pert buttocks, she shot right over the top rope with an applause worthy sault.
Without skipping a step, her landing feather light and flawless, the People’s Princess extended her palm outwards and, without hesitation, the Announcer gladly surrendered his microphone into her possession. She rewarded him with a wink and turned on the spot at centre ring, one hand on hip as she turned her full attention not upon the FAWNatics as she usually would do, but instead to the glowering duo opposite. She wasn’t smiling quite so much now, the Jungle Invaders finding themselves the focus of Sinclair’s (not as fearsome as she would like) scrunching of her button nose, Babyface dander on show as only a Babyface could do.
“Daisy, zip it!” she warned, cutting her off at the pass before she could begin, “Bethany has given you more than enough airtime to state your business, and being as you felt the need to mud stomp me on your March to War, now it’s my turn.”
Again, before either of the ambitious team from the lower league could utter another syllable, the Bright Eyed Wonder turned her back on them, approaching the downcast Elizabeth who cut a dejected, lonely... lost figure in her corner. “Cromwell... Lizzie,” Samantha held out her free hand, one new generation Brit extending out her palm to another, “we haven’t always seen eye to eye, I don’t agree with a lot of what you’re done here, but given that I have an itch in need of scratching, have you got room over here for one more?”
Cromwell looks down at the proffered hand. Even though Sinclair saved her from Alessandra at Chills there was an awful lot of water under the bridge to ignore, bitter losses among them. But one thing Elizabeth learned was that Sammie meant what she said, even if it had been to her detriment in the past. With her FAWN career on the line versus not one but two eager and unscrupulous women wanting nothing more than her place in the bigs, Lizzie concedes.
"I do indeed," Cromwell responds, grasping Sammie's palm and shaking vigorously. "Thanks Sinclair," she sputters, the words seeming both unnatural and appropriate in the same moment. "I guess I owe ya one, er two," the redhead added sheepishly.
For the Jungle members across the way, the hot Latina newbie and the flaxen-haired veteran looking for another chance at the top level, this turn of events is far from welcome. They protest vigorously to the referee.
"Bring it up with Miss Christian" is his only response and the steamed and steamy duo are cut to the quick.
Her veteran presence showing itself, Daisy ushers Fernandez through the ropes, claiming the lead as her own. She focuses on the People's Interloper. "You want me to zip it Sinclair?" she shouts. "How 'bout you send the World's Worst Brit where she belongs, outside the ring, and come over here and make me!"
Sammie pouted her lower lip in thought, her back remaining to the underhanded, double teaming blonde who had struck her down with a Daisy Cutter in the far too recent past. She pondered the matter over before she quirked a smile, tilting her head sideways as she posed her question to her partner, “should I?”
“You really should,” Lizzie encouraged, looking past one of Sinclair’s slender shoulders with a glower at the two ambitious women who wanted to take from them everything they had.
“Be right back,” Samantha nodded, turning about on the spot smartly and ensuring that her skirt was suitably adjusted, the red headed Brit likewise stepping out onto the apron and taking up residence in a corner that, now, no longer felt so lonely. Sinclair’s own march was likewise a short one, taking her to within range with Daisy and, with both standing in at a delightfully petite stature, she stood eye to eye.
“Generally, I frown upon sucker punching,” the Little Sparrow dispensed the words of warning as she likewise adjusted her top.
“Get over it,” Daisy scoffed, unrepentant for her earlier behaviour.
“I intend to!” Sammie huffed, releasing a week or two worth of frustration as she made one last step forward, turned smartly and snapped her right, fantastically athletic stem upwards into the air for a blistering Sammie Kick to an unsuspecting jaw!!
But Lemay proves she is suspecting, the one-time FAWNer and long-time Jungle native dipping under the sweeping boot of the Upstart. Sinclair's momentum sends her spinning in a 180, her back to Lemay. Daisy surrounds Sammie's taut midriff with her arms and cinches them tight in a not so sweet embrace, drawing a grunt from the freckled cutie.
"You'll have to do better than..." Daisy words are cut off as Sammie lands a back elbow into the location she missed with the kick. The blonde's arms slide from around Sinclair's waist as Lemay shakes her ringing noggin. But when Sammie turns to face her, Daisy is ready with a toe kick to the tummy that stops Sinclair's advance. With her foe doubled over, Daisy cocks her right arm, ready to deliver a stiff European Uppercut to Sammie's jaw as a proper welcome to the match.
Caught flush beneath her pixie chin, Sinclair’s tiny frame shot back up to vertical, an ‘erf!’ upon her lips as she stumbled backwards. It was only half a step, but the shimmy was telling, the Upstart blinking as the Loyalist Legionnaires voiced their worry, the anticipated retribution not exactly materialising. After an attempt to move forwards, the disorientated and startled young women instead found herself continuing to go backwards, her shoulders soon finding themselves pressing against the ropes.
Daisy grabs a wrist. "You aren't dealing with a rookie," Lemay informs, "You want to leave with Cromwell. Good riddance." The blonde heaves Sinclair into motion with an Irish whip. Sammie scurries across the canvas and bounds into the far cables. For her part, Daisy follows to the middle of the ring and sets in Sinclair's path. As Sammie closes in, Daisy dips in preparation for sending the nosy brat high into the air with a back body drop.
While the ropes were usually her friend, tonight they seemed to be determined to Sammie’s enemies, the small brunette bouncing off the coils and heading back towards the waiting blonde. As Daisy ducked low, Sinclair was soon sent high, the veteran straightening with a thrust and hurtling the crowd favourite skywards. Only for a surprised cheer to ripple across the arena for, as the Little Sparrow sailed through the air, it was less a back body drop, and more a Leap Frog!
Sammie landed upon her steady feet with pop and short skip, the enthusiastic bounce replaced by a resurgent sprint quickly enough. She hit the coils again, this time under her own power, the spritely battler turning into the ropes and allowing them to snap tight, launching her back into the ring. Sinclair cleared the distance in no time, one last step launching her into a dive as she spread her delightfully nimble frame into a crossbody spla –
Daisy caught her!! While the blonde perhaps lacked the strength to simply snatch her brunette counterpart clean out the air, the sudden stop was more than enough to spring a pained grunt from the tiny body of the road blocked Sammie. Momentum was to be Lemay’s friend as she spun rapidly with the impact, snuggling her grasp to tightly secure the trim tummy of her soon to be victim and, laying out, SLAMMED!! the dizzied fan favourite to the mat with a Sidewalk Slam!
Sammie GRUNTED and groaned and she was planted across her shoulders into the canvas, her tummy punished barely a moment later as the blonde who clearly had her number drilled her body weight onto it. Following a pained recoil, Sinclair flopped and shuddered, trying to remember where she had been derailed.
Lemay presses tight to Sinclair in a pin attempt, rolling the Brit into a tight cradle for...
ONE!
TWO!!
Sammie forces her way free, saving her FAWN career and Elizabeth's.
Daisy kips to her feet, enjoying the disdain of the Legionnaires who don't appreciate the blonde stealing their beloved Upstart's move. She turns to the FAWNatics raising her hands in the air. "Enjoy Sammie's last night here. I'm packing her bags personally." Daisy ambles around Sinclair and genuflects a knee into the brunette's ribs that draws a gasp.
Lemay drags Sinclair to her feet and bullies the Golden Girl into the corner of the women seeking freedom from The Jungle. Daisy shoves Sammie into the buckles and keeps her pinned there while reaching over Sinclair's shoulder and tagging Alejandra.
The spicy Latina climbs to the top buckle instead of heading in. Meanwhile, Daisy dips and wraps her arms around Sammie's thighs. She lifts the lightweight off her boot leather and turns so the raised Sinclair is facing Fernandez. The newly legal Alejandra leaps with right arm drawn, ready to clothesline Sammie into the spin cycle.
Sinclair was clearly rattled, the small battler far too compliant for her own good as she was muscled up into the air, adorable noggin dipped slightly as she cradled her ribs. Sat atop Daisy’s shoulders, she was an easy target for Alejandra as she took flight, the exotic rookie unable to miss as she scythed an arm across the crowd favourite’s neck, ripping her from her perch with a pained chirp and sending her ground wards towards disaster.
While Lemay was no giant, the fall was still over five feet, and Sammie ended her descent with a GRUNT inducing stop with her shoulders cracking against the canvas. With a sharp juddering, the Princess recoiled with a worrisome spasm, and yet the People could only watch as she remained folded. With the fine fabric of her skirt slipping down past her firm thighs, Sammie’s pert little buttocks pointed skywards, a far cry it seemed from the heroine who had entered.
The curvy Californian, who'd cut her teeth in Tijuana before getting her chance in The Jungle, rises and hovers over the blasted Brit. But the respite is only for a moment as Fernandez gets to booting the Upstart into a mudhole. Satisfied, her young partner in crime has things in hand, Lemay exits.
In the opposite corner, Cromwell starts a rhythmic clap with the fans, trying to inspire her partner. Whether it was out of self-interest or concern couldn't be clear.
Done with her dance on Sammie's frame, Alejandra pulls Sinclair to her feet by dual handfuls of hair. Fernandez spins Sammie in a pirouette and releases, Sinclair racing to the ropes and u-turning once more, this time the pert People's Princess headed for a big raised right boot from the Latina.
This time, it seemed, there was to be no attempted acrobatics to save her bacon as, much to the Legionnaires mounting horror, Sammie was caught flush across her pixie chin again. With her freckled noggin snapping sideways, the rest of the Former Lightweight Champion followed suit and she spiralled in a wild one eighty, dropping down against the canvas and skidding across the mat in a boneless heap.
With a protracted groan, Sinclair at last showed the resilience that she was known for and, despite the punishment heaped upon her, began to roll over under her own power. With defiant effort to wrapped her arm about the bottom rope and began what was sure to be a long process of dragging herself back up to vertical.
Alejandra looks at Sinclair then at a rightly worried Elizabeth. "This is your saviour, gringa?" Fernandez asks. "You might have been better in a handicap."
Alejandra strides to Sammie as the Upstart pulls up to vertical. She turns the wobbly Samantha to face her. Pushing her foe's head and upper torso over the top rope with her left forearm pressed tightly to the throat of Sinclair, the spicy brawler lets loose on Sammie's pert chest with a series of right forearm smashes. Each impact rocks Sammie in turn, it looking more and more by the minute Sinclair isn't ready for the ferocity with which these women want her place.
With the official reaching 'FOUR' on his count, Alejandra yanks Sinclair away from the strands. She dips, sends her right arm between Sammie's abbreviated stems, and 'hups' the Upstart off the canvas and onto her right shoulder, planning to surge forward and deliver the freckled favourite heavily to the canvas with a running Powerslam.
Ragdolled was an expression that no wrestler wanted attached to any part of her career, but as her rival left her battered and breathless, Sammie couldn’t be described as anything else as she curled backwards over the top coil her pretty peepers fluttering. The thrust of an arm invading between her parted thighs encouraged a groan but little resistance, her featherweight frame little burden for her opponent as she was hupped up neatly across one, strong shoulder. Like an adorable sack of potatoes, the Bright Eyed Wonder was hauled across the ring, Alejandra flexing her biceps to –
Sammie slipped free, a (not really) fearsome war cry summoned from somewhere as, at the last moment, the beloved brunette wriggled free and dropped down out the back. With a skirt the colour of gold fluttering, Sammie crouched with her landing and, as Fernandez spun around, popped back up and spiralled into a new Sammie Kick!!
The startled look on Fernandez's face as the squirmy, slippery Sammie slides down her back, ruining a perfectly good ending for the freckled flea, is nothing compared to the wide dark eyes on her flawless features when Sammie's educated feet, or in this case, foot, ZOOMS into the point of Alejandra's chin. The force the diminutive Golden Girl puts in her signature is substantial, particularly for girls the same height. With Alejandra qualifying, her noggin snaps back in a wicked whiplash. The Latina's muscles seem to grow rigid, eyes instantly glassy, and Fernandez timbers to the canvas like a cut tree, THUMPING down on her back and backside.
The “WHOOP!!” from the FAWNatics was immediate, the spot from Sammie never failing to please once the blistering strike makes connection, even Elizabeth, understandably so, finding cause for celebration on this occasion. The mood was somewhat dampened when Sinclair went down also, the Golden Girl glorious in her shimmering attire and yet, seemingly, unable to stay upright.
She flopped, dropping to the canvas and laying across her back, pretty peepers half fluttered as her bosom, pert and petite, rose slowly with her shallow breathing. Vital seconds were wasted as she remained idle, her fire spent in that one moment as Alejandra inevitably shook off her own impact. Indeed, she was the first to begin rising, coaxed on by the demands of Daisy, the blonde having been in complete control before tagging out none too pleased to see that control slipping from her fingers.
The still dulled eyes Hernandez growled as she did not at all appreciate the tone, but recovering she was as she sat up, rubbing her suddenly sore jaw as the Leader of the Upstart Nation remained splayed ou –
Refusing to do things by half, Sammie inhaled a sharp breath and won the race to vertical with a single, wonderfully fluid motion. After first tucking her perfectly carved frame into a snug little ball, Sinclair exploded out of it with a leap that could only be described as FAWN’s Favourite Kip Up! Bursting to life, adrenaline surging, the Tiny Titan sprinted across the canvas, Alejandra scrambling to keep up, pushing up to one knee and providing the brunette charging towards her with the platform she wanted!
With her step in place, Sammie pointed out her right knee, leading with her equally patented Golden Wizard to nail her opponents jaw again, a short pit stop along her way to tagging in the impatient Cromwell!
GOLDEN WIZARD
www.youtube.com/watch?v=iiHreVqEhsY
Alejandra's head snaps back from the knee to her temple and her body follows suit, the Latina sent sprawling. Meanwhile Sammie hardly slows on her way to the corner where her makeshift partner awaits. Sinclair grins as she offers her hand. "Go get her Lizzie," she offers enthusiastically and sweetly.
Cromwell rolls her eyes but slips through to do just that. Collecting Fernandez by the head, she tugs the FAWN wannabe to her feet and spins her foe so they're back to back. Transferring her grip to send both sets of fingers into Alejandra's long, lush raven locks, Elizabeth leans forward, drawing Fernandez onto her back, curling the spine of the Latina while apparently trying to rip out her mane at the scalp with her hair pull hangman.
Formally her first introduction to Cromwell inside the ring, Fernandez was not at all pleased to make the personal acquaintance. Perhaps she had imagined, in the week’s proceedings the PPV, that matters would unfold otherwise, but as she was pivoted and wrenched painfully upwards onto her tiptoes by claw holds to her scalp, the Latina HOWLED not only in anger, but also misery.
“GRRRAAAAAHHHH!” she cursed without articulation, her back curled up and over the torture rack that the Boarding School Princess made of her own, the red head she was determined to replace jostling her to and fro, “You Jobbering Tramp, I’ll rip you in HALF!!”
The comment might have struck a little close to home considering Cromwell's run of bad form and Elizabeth growls at the remark, setting Fernandez down, but only so she can spin to face her and deliver a head-twisting bytch slap to Alejandra. "I've beaten legends. You're in The Jungle, bytch!"
When the reddened face of the Latina wobbles back toward the ginger's, Lizzie grabs both shoulders and DRIVES a knee into the tawny expanse of her foe's tummy. Alejandra doubles over with a grunt and Elizabeth sinks her digits into Fernandez's long locks again, this time Cromwell planning to sit out and splatter Alejandra's features into the deck with a Facebuster.
For possibly the first time in her young career, Elizabeth was able to enjoy her first ever positive reception from the audience. Perhaps it was due to her association with Sinclair, perhaps it was because she was paying back some karma to the rampaging duo against whom she was set against, perhaps it was for one of many reasons, but it seemed all the louder tonight as Lizzie left her feet and lead the way down towards the canvas with her perky buttocks. While her firm rump was sure to be sore, it was the cursing Fernandez who was to be left reeling as she led her descent with her pained features, the ambitious Jungle Dweller THUMPING the canvas with her forehead!
With a solid whiplash her head snapped backwards, Alejandra recoiling from the impact as she bounced with a pained spasm and, after an ungraceful flip, flopped outwards into a starfish.
Elizabeth passes on the pin attempt, instead looking over at Daisy. "Feel lucky you're on the outside," Cromwell assures.
"Give me a chance, worst Brit. And you'll be out of work. You and your friend."
Elizabeth scoffs at the thought, both of being unemployed and about Sammie as a friend. She rises and draws the wobbly Alejandra with her. Lizzie leads Fernandez to the ropes and forces her face down on the top cable. Lizzie draaaags Fernandez's eyes down the length of the rope and ends the trip by pulling her head back and POUNDING it into the top turnbuckle. Alejandra's noggin snaps back and she falls into Cromwell's arms.
"Guess we won't be finding out today," the BSP says. Turning Alejandra, Elizabeth captures the Latina in a front facelock and draws her towards the centre of the ring, preparing to layout and SPIKE Fernandez's skull into the canvas with a DDT.
While she had received far too many blunt force traumas to her noggin in far too short amount of time to continue with her angered mutterings, Fernandez was none the less hardly about to let herself go quietly into the night. She pushed and wriggled, albeit without coordination and not with quite as much vigour as she had done so earlier, clawing at Lizzie’s firm thighs and shoving against the other young talents hip.
Cromwell, however, would not be denied, channelling the success of her early career as she rocked sharply backwards, yanking the Latina along for the ride with her PLANTING the top of the dark haired young women’s skull into the barely yielding plywood!! With a yelp and pained juddering, Alejandra spasmend, tensed and then flopped, her frame now more than malleable enough for Elizabeth to roll her over and tuck her up into a neat ball.
ONE!
TWO!!
Unwilling to give up her dreams quite so easily, Daisy was quickly into the ring, breaking up the pinfall and punting the sole of her boot into the back of Lizzie’s shoulders!
Cromwell's back arches as she wonders what hit her. Turning, freckled face twisted in pain and anger, Cromwell finds religion about cheating, demanding the blonde be removed immediately.
As the official works to do just that, Cromwell pulls Alejandra up with her, both women now on their feet. "Get her out and keep her out," Lizzie shouts, waving Lemay through the ropes. "Now what are we arGUHHHAHHH!!"
The lovely Latina jabs a thumb in Cromwell's left eye when she turns toward her. The Liverpool native spins away howling, rubbing at her socket while cursing a blue streak. She stretches a hand out in front of her, trying to find Sammie, but her aim is off. Instead, Alejandra intercepts the Boarding School Princess before she can make the tag with a side kick to her midriff that bends Lizzie at the waist. Fernandez dips and sends an arm between Cromwell's thighs, planning to scoop the Brit onto her right shoulder and deposit her to the canvas with a slam so she can get to her corner and get her partner back in the swing.
Despite the enthusiastic clapping from Sammie at ringside, the gutted Elizabeth proves to be little burden to Alejandra as she scoops the lass from England up and secures the suddenly compliant BSP across her powerful shoulder. Shaking her head out, feeling the cobwebs but refusing to be cowed by them, the Latina marches the upended Brit across the ring and, satisfied that they were close enough to friendly territory, she SLAMMED Lizzie down into the mat!
Forcibly planted, the freckled young Brit remains where she was nailed as she inhaled a pained gasp, one that was cut short as Alejandra vindictively stomped down upon the fallen girls bosom and used her as a stepping stone. Leaving her gasping rival laid out behind her, the Latina all but casually held out her palm and accepted the tag from Daisy, the distinct impression abounding that she wasn’t been given a choice.
Which wasn’t to say that she was happy to leave just yet.
Turning about she returned to Cromwell, scraping the struggling young women off the mat and, following a savage kneelift to a firm tummy, ‘taming’ the Hellcat before securing her in a firm headlock. Sammie continued in her attempts to rally her flagging partner, but even with the FAWNatics joining in, Lizzie was still hupped skywards, the tips of her boots sent pointing towards the ceiling as Fernandez, displaying impressive strength, supported the former Lightweight Champion in a Stalling Suplex.
The eyelids of Cromwell began to flutter as the blood in her divine body began pooling southwards, turning her freckled cheeks rosy and making her dizzy. It left her in little position to appreciate her predicament, not even as Lemay hopped up onto the top rope and, using it as a spring board, the blonde launched herself towards her intended victim!
@2:05
www.youtube.com/watch?v=sriE7xtusW4
And, working better than the ad-hoc British combination had, the disparate Jungle girls work in perfect harmony. Together, they send Cromwell hurtling to the canvas SLAMMING hard against the deck. With Daisy now the legal entrant, Alejandra slides through the ropes and leaves Cromwell to her partner.
Daisy flips through a senton, her back CRASHING across Elizabeth's chest. Cromwell spasms from the impact then falls still. Spinning to a lateral press, Lemay hook a leg and rolls the splattered Lizzie into a tight ball for the...
ONE!
TWO!!
KICKOUT!!!
Elizabeth fights her way free, ending on her side, dark eyes blinking wide, but she's temporarily unable to do much more, the tag team effort leaving her dazed.
With the composure of one who clearly believed that the outcome of tonight was a formality, Daisy made not a peep of protest as she slipped away from the failed pin and, remaining on one knee, turned sleekly about the back of the woozy Cromwell. Tucking her palms beneath the Brits shoulders, the pink clad Heel hupped the compliant Hellcat up to sitting and, betraying the scouting she had done before this contest, sought to put Lizzie away as Bianchi had done barely a month earlier at Bloody Valentine!
“You’re absolutely right Cromwell,” she cooed far too sweetly, slapping a firm Sleeper onto her sitting victim, “I am lucky to be here.”
Daisy's arms snake around the throat and head of Elizabeth, Lemay kneeling behind her foe and driving her weight down on Elizabeth's cranium even as she cuts off the blood supply to the brain within.
Knowing very well what the blonde has in mind from the sleepy time at Bloody Valentines, Cromwell twists and squirms, scooting on her butt to work her way free of Daisy's grip. But Lemay has all the leverage and though Daisy has to slide along with Cromwell, she keeps the pressure in place. Slowly, Lizzie's eyes become glassy and the movement of her limbs uncoordinated. Still against all odds, Cromwell leans against the woman behind her and uses the Jungle native to move her way from seated to vertical.
With Daisy close to putting Elizabeth back down in a snoozing state, Cromwell reaches above and behind her, wrapping her arms around the top of Daisy's head while positioning the crown of her own head on the blonde's chin, planning to drop to the canvas and jawjack her foe.
Too late, Lemay’s deceptively doe eyed peepers open wide in alarm as she realised what is happening, and even as she began to unclamp her own arms, Lizzie had snapped closed her own trap! A sharp drop followed, one that ended with an all too sudden stop for the gobsmacked blonde as her chin was all but CRACKED across the Brits shoulder! Daisy whiplashed away, grunting in misery as she flipped over onto her back, clutching her features as they throbbed. This time frustration did show, angry curses accompanying the stomps of her boots against the canvas!
Cromwell shakes some of her remaining marbles back into place and struggles to her feet. She moves to Lemay and lifts a boot to stomp the blonde's midriff but Daisy catches the leather before it reaches its target. A startled Lizzie tries to wrench her leg free, but a shove by the blonde sends Elizabeth crashing to the canvas. With both women grounded, they tear into each other with claws bared, getting catty, tearing into hair and otherwise scratching and clawing.
The duo roll as one across the ring and, as luck would have it, to the corner where Sammie stands cheering on her teammate. With both grapplers unaware, the Golden Girl reaches through the ropes and slaps Lizzie's derriere, making herself legal.
While the official tries to make the snarling Cromwell and Lemay cognizant of the switch, Sammie hops over the ropes and into the ring.
Fernandez, on the other hand, enjoyed a perfect view of the proceedings and, with a colourful shout, was desperate to alert Daisy to the danger. Quickly coming to the conclusion that being vocal wasn’t going to be enough, she ducked low and all but immediately thrust herself into the ring as well.
Sammie was having none of it, shenanigans high on her list of matters in need of preventing as, already light footed following her landing; she darted across the ring at a spritely sprint. Even as Alejandra was returning to fully vertical, her chin was already being met by a surprisingly impressive, running clothesline from the diminutive brunette! With a startled “GUFF” the taller Fernandez was swept off her feet by the English Export of Perfectly Petite Proportions, smacked backwards and, as the ropes were leveraged against her shoulders, was sent flipping upwards and over the top coil and sent plummeting to the outside the ring.
Sinclair didn’t stop there, not with the People roaring in approval for their Princess, the girl with chocolate curls spinning on the spot and riding the momentum with her second sprint in the same minute. As Lemay was turning, criminally (and perhaps foolishly) showing her back to Cromwell, Sammie spotted a second chin that was in need of kissing, a patented kick that shared her name locked and loaded to remove a head from shoulders.
Sinclair catches Lemay under the chin, picking up a quick twofer against the Jungle girls. The blonde is lifted off her feet from the force of the blow and is sent sailing into Cromwell. The impact sends Elizabeth tumbling through the ropes, crashing to the floor below. Sammie blushes at having sent her partner sprawling outside. She leans over the ropes, gazing sheepishly at the dazed redhead. But apologies could come later. Sammie turns to Daisy, Lemay propped up slightly on her elbows, shaking her senses back into place. "At least now," Daisy grunts, "I get to kick a REAL major leaguer's ass.
As compliments go, that one smacked of being backhanded and, on this occasion, did not speak well of her partner, and Lizzie being a rival or not, such an insinuation was always going to raise her Babyface dander. The scrunching of her button nose was the giveaway and, as she adjusted the belt of her mini skirt, Sammie bent low to retrieve the struggling Lemay, tugging the Blonde up onto her feet and, slinging an arm across her shoulders, prepared to deliver a neat, snap suplex that could only have been tutored by one Wendy Smith!
“Win a Title,” Sammie scolded with a tone that wasn’t very good at doing so, “then you can talk!”
Having secured Daisy by her head with one arm and a grip on Lemay's hip with the other, Sammie flips the blonde with super speed through a front flip, Daisy's back CRASHING to the canvas. But the Golden Girl doesn't give up her grip on Lemay's noggin and as Sammie scrambles to her feet she tugs Daisy with her. The Upstart sets Lemay up again in similar fashion and whips her over again, Daisy again left with a pain-scrunched face, her back arched in agony. BUT Sammie again doesn't let go and she forces the aching Lemay up for one final point. She vaults the blonde through a third snap suplex getting a painful trifecta. With a mewling Daisy laid out on the canvas, Sinclair kips to her feet for a flourish of a finale, the crowd going bonkers for the display.
It proved to be the perfect time for the Little Sparrow to begin clapping, the rapid three beat rhythm gleefully taken up by the Loyalist Legionnaires in attendance, both the bombastic beat of the Upstart Nation’s March to War and, on this occasion, a celebration for the trio of Suplexes that had laid out her most recent tormentor.
Apparently unhappy with standing still, Sammie took off with yet another sprint for the nearest ropes, pointing to them before hand for the audiences approval, leaping at the last moment and, after bunny hopping gracefully upon the middle coil, she utilised the wicked spring to launch her tiny frame into a backwards flip, the Lionsault aimed to slap her tummy down hard across Daisy’s!
Dazed by the trio of forceful landings on the deck, Lemay is distracted by the ache emanating from her vertebrae. And while her baby blues flash when Sammie skips over her to reach the ropes, it seems she's unable to do anything about the impending Sammiesault. The People's Princess plummets toward the crossbody collision when Daisy tucks her knees in and up, offering them as a landing spot for Sammie's belly. With gravity suddenly turned from friend to foe, Sinclair SLAMS down across the pointed joints, the crowd groaning as Sammie rolls away swaddling her tummy gurgling, eyes wide. Beside her, Daisy straightens out of her ball and rolls up to all fours, looking at Alejandra more than pressing the issue with a turtled Sammie.
After being upended outside the ring faster than she had been trying to get back into it, Alejandra was furious as she leaned heavily over the top rope and held her hand out as far as her arm would stretch, switching her gaze between the slowly crawling Lemay and the shuddering, gutted Sammie. Fernandez flexed her fingers as Daisy inched closer, Sinclair rolling sideways in tandem as a despairing crowd willed her to recover faster.
She wouldn’t do so, not quickly enough, Alejandra grinning with vicious intent as she streeeeetched out just a little further... only for a GASP!! to escape her lips as both her feet were swept out from underneath her, an exploring Cromwell charging about the outside of the ring and slamming her forearm into the Jungle Girls ankles! With her footing on the apron robbed, Fernandez tumbled out of reach of her partner and towards the waiting concrete!
After the sound of the meaty impact on the floor, out of her sight, Daisy turns and looks plaintively at the official who shrugs, seeming to indicate 'it's outside the ring what do you want me to do?'.
Knowing she has no backup at the moment, Lemay pushes to her feet and walks toward Sammie, sinking her fingers into the dark locks of the kneeling Sinclair. "Looks like the worst Brit ever wants it to be all about you and me," Daisy barks. "Suits me."
Lemay tugs Sammie up to her feet, the Golden Girl still bent at the waist. She pivots, dropping her right arm low and delivers a BIG European Uppercut to Sammie's chin sending Sinclair backpedalling into a neutral corner. She thumps into the buckles and bounces out toward a waiting blonde.
Lemay dips and throws an arm between Sinclair's legs, popping the diminutive sweetheart across LeMay's shoulders. Daisy rushes forward with Sammie in a fireman's carry and starts to somersault forward, planning to THUMP Sammie to the deck as she does.
As much as the FAWNatics wanted Sinclair to wriggle free, the Former Lightweight Champion was little more than baggage as she was hupped across the dominant blondes shoulders. Groaning as she remained compliant, the rattled brunette was vaguely aware of the impending danger before her new rival dived forwards, IMPALING the crowd sweetheart to the canvas who released an alarmed GRUNT!
Winded again, her taunt little tummy further abused and nailed between Daisy and plywood, Sammie remained where LeMay saw fit to plant her. With freckled cheeks rosy she recoiled from the impact and, for a moment at least, genuflected back up to sitting. Cradling her slender midriff, the Bright Eyed Wonder soon toppled back over, slumping to her side with a pained gasp, the slit of her skirt slipping open and revealing her right, wonderfully athletic thigh to the cameras.
With Elizabeth back in her appointed corner, Cromwell demands Sammie get off her ass and make it to her waiting hand. But when Sinclair tries, a risen Daisy is waiting to take Sammie's wrist. Lemay leads a wobbly Sinclair toward Cromwell, extending the arm of the brunette but then yanking it away when it gets close, teasing a flushed Elizabeth.
"I'm doing you a favour, you flop," Lemay contends, before turning Sammie and Irish whipping her to the opposite corner. Sammie sprints to the far buckles and turns into a HEAVY collision with the buckles, her body rocked. She slumps, but is suddenly straightened when Alejandra hooks her elbows with Sammie's and pulls her tight. A grinning Daisy nods and rushes toward the perky Upstart, leaping as she closes in to give the world a new Sammie-move, a Sammie-splash.
A move that the world wasn’t ready for, the FAWNatics eager to raise their voice in collective warning as LeMay took flight, on target to retain her momentum against Sinclair. Sammie, however, was equally unhappy to witness a Sammie assault that she had no hand in devising and, before the others could blink, puffed out her cherub cheeks and turned her captivity to her advantage!
With her arms linked with Fernandez, her petite mass held steady and securely, Sammie used the tight embrace to keep her from falling as a (not very scary) war shout escaped her and she swept her shapely stems upwards and thrust them out. With the Most Prolific of the Sinclair’s legs outstretched into the air and held rigid, Daisy’s landing was suddenly far from appealing.
Daisy's eyes go wide, but her momentum can't be stopped in time and Sammie's sinewy if abbreviated legs clamp down around Lemay's braincase in a scissors. When Fernandez releases one of her hooks to pound Sammie, Sinclair quickly throws a freed elbow behind her and catches the Latina in the jaw, loosening the Golden Girl completely from Fernandez's clutches.
Sammie throws herself to the side, dropping off the buckles and, with her scissors on Daisy still intact, the blonde tumbles along for the ride. The Jungle girl is sent flying then sliding with the headscissors takedown.
Behind Sinclair, a furious Fernandez steps through the ropes. But a certain Brit across the ring enters as well, racing toward the raven-haired beauty with shoulder lowered, ready to make sure Alejandra doesn't get the drop on her partner, hoping to spear Fernandez in half.
And spear her in half the red head does, a shout on her own lips as she dived and slammed a shoulder deep into the gulping tummy of the astonished Alejandra, a war cry which was, unlike her beloved partners, every bit as intimidating as it was meant to be. Fernandez folded as though something had been broken and, with the turnabout rapidly unfolding and the carnage mounting, the Loyalist Legionnaires erupted with applause!
As Cromwell and Alejandra hit the deck, the two legal entrants were pulling themselves back off it. Blonde and Brunette found their way to vertical at the same moment and, as if reading from the same song sheet, they charged across the ring in unison, that is until they reached centre. That was when the metaphorical duet diverged and Sammie ducked low beneath the scything clothesline, heading towards her teams corner, a tactical error to be certain as Lizzie clearly wasn’t there to receive her...
Or not, as the case proved to be, Sammie showing no confusion following an absent partner as she instead began skipping her way up the turnbuckles. With beguiling speed the Golden Girl found herself perched at the heavens, turning herself about without pause to face back inside the ring. With dexterity and balance to be envied, Sinclair took flight, targeting to tangle herself about LeMay and plant her to the canvas with a flying DDT!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=EMM_vsiXmmo&feature=player_embedded
Sammie takes flight toward a turning Daisy who finds Sinclair already on her way. She tries to get some defence together, but Sinclair's arm encircles her head too quickly. Sammie lets her pert little toosh drop directly to the canvas, the small, but fast-moving mass yanking Daisy off her moorings and SPIKING her skull into the canvas with brutal force. Daisy tumbles over, ending on her side, cradling her noggin but unable to manage more movement than that.
Meanwhile, before the ref can guide her out of the ring, Lizzie has a wobbly Fernandez up, yanking her up by the hair. Cromwell gives the Latina a little unsolicited advice, then sweeps out her leg and PLANTS her into the canvas via her signature Silver Spoon Buster...
www.youtube.com/watch?v=kRXUkHPTKlc
The crowd loving the newly formed duo on the verge of saving their respective FAWN careers.
With a derisively dismissive Cromwell unceremoniously shovelling the brain blasted Fernandez out of her squared circle; Sammie was busy collecting an equally dishevelled Daisy. “Lizzie!” she shouted with a new smirk in place, brightening her freckled cheeks as she encouraged the blonde in her possession back up to standing, tucking her new rivals noggin in tight against her hip as though she were about to deliver a bulldog.
The red head apparently needed no further prompting, not with opportunity calling and she ducked and rolled outside the ring, her pace rapid as she made her way back towards home turf.
Satisfied that the pieces were falling into place, Sammie made the smallest of huffs and made off at a run, pulling LeMay along with her at a far more stumbling gait. Not satisfied with simply delivering a bulldog, the Leader of the Upstart Nation instead took them right on over to the turnbuckles, skipping her way up them for a second time with her grip still secured. Finding the top perch, the petite brunette kicked off with force and turned herself and Daisy about, the apex of the spiral encouraging Lizzie to return and earlier favour, reaching out to ‘tag’ Sinclair’s firm buttocks and make herself legal... but not before the Turnbuckle Run Bulldog threatened to SLAM a blondes noggin into the waiting plywood!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=BiAYqRuSSEo
Up the light footed Brit goes. She pushes off the top, sending her and her cargo into a u-turn. Sammie drops to her backside PLANTING Daisy's face into the thinly-sheathed plywood. Lemay's head bounces off the canvas and she flops to her back in a demolished starfish. Next to her sits a pleased-as-punch Sammie, rubbing a little ache out of her bum.
The superstar Upstart kips to her feet delighting the fans and even drawing a smile from an entering Lizzie. The redhead shares a snug hug with Sammie. "If you don't mind," Cromwell says to her possible...friend?
Sammie motions that Daisy is all hers and starts another clap for her former foe, drawing Cromwell's grin wider, the Legionnaires showing their support for Lizzie as well.
Cromwell draws a punch-drunk Daisy to her feet and into a front facelock, throwing the opposite arm of the blonde over a shoulder. A rare eruption of excitement accompanies the set up for Lizzie's Prep School Expulsion. Cromwell launches Lemay into the air, spinning Daisy at her overturned height, ready to sit out to the canvas and remove the Jungle vet from her senses.
@00:08
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ttqciIH5dA
Given Lizzie’s lack of success in recent memory, the FAWNatics held their collective breadths as the once feared Prep School Expulsion reached its apex, LeMay held aloft with just a second to slip free. It was a second within which she did not do so and, with a sudden drop, the crown of the ambitious Blondes head was NAILED!! into the canvas!! The ring itself rattled as the Legionnaires erupted, Cromwell swelling with relief as, for the first time this year, she was not the victim of her own Finisher and was instead, once again, it’s rightful owner!
Daisy recoiled from the brain busting impact like a broken doll, ricocheting up to sitting with her noggin swirling with its strings cut before she flopped over. Like the red headed Hellcat she was, the Boarding School Princess caught the scent of her would be replacements blood and pounced upon the other competitors weakness, flattening out the pink clad battlers shoulders and hooking both legs for good measure, rolling LeMay into a career saving pinfall!
ONE!
TWO!!
Daisy wasn’t moving, only Fernandez could save her now, but the dark haired beauty was equally as gobsmacked, still recovering from Elizabeth’s Silver Spoon Buster...
THREE!!!
Happiness, but more than that, relief washes over the face of Cromwell. She lets Daisy's leg fall to the canvas, rolls over, and reclines on the splattered body of the blonde. Wearily, the freckled redhead raises a hand and Sammie uses that as her cue to hop clean over the ropes.
As she hustles to Elizabeth, the ring announcer proclaims the obvious. "Your winners...the Best Brits Ever...Elizabeth Cromwell and Sammie Sinclair!!"
Lizzie rolls her eyes and shakes her head, though the pride remains. Apparently she would never be living down that statement, but at least tonight she has some evidence on her side...their side. She reaches a hand up toward Sinclair and accepts a yank up into a snugly embrace. "Thanks," Elizabeth says softly, almost sweetly.
“Yeah, well,” Sammie smirks, the impish expression initially hidden before the two pull back for a little breathing room, “I owed her a kick or two upside the head. Besides,” Sammie managed to smirk a little more, the hint of mischief revealing the competitiveness of the Tiny Titan, “we’ll never find out who the Best Brit Ever really is if you’re not around now will we?”
Before Lizzie could form a reply, Sammie took half a step backwards and, side by side with her career rival, clasped their fingers together and whipped their arms up in unison, the duo of Former Lightweight Champions flush with victory as the Legionnaires cheered as one. “Of course,” she tilted her chocolate curled noggin, scrunching up her button nose in thought, “Worlds Best Brits? That does have a nice ring to it...”
Elizabeth's smirk morphs into a wide grin. "If I can't get away from it, I might as well own it," Lizzie responds. "And yeah...if you want to own it too. Whenever you want."
Perhaps it was the emotion of winning AND keeping a job she dearly loved, but the sincerity is evident on the beaming visage of the Boarding School Princess. Sinclair had stepped up not once but twice, when no one else would have. And as much as Elizabeth both hated and loved admitting it, that made her a rare commodity in FAWN and her life in general, a friend.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=tN9EC3Gy6Nk
Knowing the Boarding School Princess is on the way, the crowd lets its disapproval loose the boos echoing through the bowl and it grows louder still when Space’s The Female of the Species rolls over the top of England’s anthem.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=F1NBpVKWh_c&ob=av2e
After a few long seconds, a distinctly worried looking redhead shuffles to centre stage, appearing as though she wants to be anywhere but there. Cromwell has a microphone already in hand.
Elizabeth Cromwell
“Cut my music,” she was going to demand, only for the Titantron to cut out prematurely, her graphics popping with a straggled gargle before disappearing entirely. Lizzie swallowed, looking backwards over her own shoulder before turning her searching gaze to every shadowed corner of the arena. Uncertainty infused her every molecule, this past year one disaster followed quickly by another, and with the formally cocksure young women rattled into a shadow of her former self, even the FAWNatics were beginning to find it difficult to kick her while she was down.
Cromwell has her head on a swivel as she strides down the ramp and aisle. Lizzie’s blue bikini bottoms are tied at each hip, ‘BSP’ emblazoned in bold white strokes across her backside. Above that remains the familiar sports bra containing a twisting blend of the colours of her UK with a black outline of the British flag on her right breast.
The curious crowd holds their collective tongue.
Cromwell both considers and abandons each new statement as she walks around the squared circle, pulling the mic to her unsure lips before pushing it away, checking under the apron as she reaches each side of the ring for whatever gremlins or past sins might be waiting for her tonight.
Satisfied, Elizabeth stomps up the ring steps and moves to the centre of the squared circle. Cromwell draws the ‘stick’ to her pursed lips, huffing over what she wanted to say, what defiant gesture she could make as her eyes were drawn inexorably towards the curtains and whatever phantom opponent she was scheduled to fight against, left to fret over who it could be.
Before she could speak, finally finding the words to do so, the mic was taken from her hands by the ring Announcer, such a thing rarely heard of in this, or any ring, leaving Cromwell flabbergasted beyond belief.
“Sorry Liz,” the man apologised, without a great deal of sincerity the red head noted, “Captains orders.”
“Captain?” Lizzie stammered, her cheeks flushing with indignation, all but ready to chest up to the Announcer and demand her property back, that single action bringing some level of her Bratty Bravado surging right back up to the surface. No-one took the mic from her. No-One!! “What Captain!?!”
www.youtube.com/watch?v=KvLDJIKjWyo
The pounding, ominous beginnings of Disturbed’s “The Game” fill the arena. Moments later, the face of the FAWN hierarchy, Bethany Christian steps onto the ramp and onto the stage. And in spite of a large portion of the audience loathing her, the statuesque brunette still awed most with her appearance.
Bethany Christian
For the briefest of moments the FAWNatics believed that Director of Operations was about to step into the ring herself, standing revealed as Elizabeth’s surprise opponent for the evening. Such speculations were quickly dismissed however as the navy blue, yet surprisingly suggestive pant suit she wore was more in key with her current position than the years of wrestling behind her. With a smile that was robbed of warmth, one of the most powerful women in the industry brought her own microphone to her lips, waiting patiently and without fluster for the pause in the spectators prattling she knew was coming.
“Elizabeth Cromwell,” she began, earning the undivided attention of the red head in the ring, “what am I supposed to do with you?”
Lizzie opened her mouth to speak, to shout if she had to after being denied her own ‘stick’, but there was to be no opportunity for her to do so.
“At first it didn’t seem so long ago that I moved heaven and earth to bring you here, that scrappy bit of talent that no-one else had faith in and yet I demanded be given an opportunity. And regardless of what the pessimists may say, this is the land of opportunity, but now, Lizzie, now it feels like a lifetime ago.” Bethany’s smile faded, and that warmth that was already absent chilled even more considerably, “I have been forced to watch you spiral into insignificance, frankly, it’s become embarrassing, for me that is, for you it’s just humiliating. I have two, two Developmental Leagues bursting with fresh, new talent just begging for the opportunities that you have been squandering, and tonight I’m going to give it to them.”
Finally, there was a pause, an opportunity for Cromwell to speak her piece, but as the colour drained slowly from her features, the FAWNatics also found themselves unable to heckle the World’s Brattiest Brits mounting misfortune.
“Tonight you won’t just be competing for your lacking pride Ms. Cromwell,” Christian’s mannerisms became one of someone efficiently plunging in a knife and twisting it with pleasure, “tonight you will be fighting for your career. Tonight, this will be a Contract Match! Win, and you will be allowed to cling onto what is left of it, lose and, well, you can consider your stay here over, and your opponents will use you as a stepping stone to success.”
Her bombshell dropped, Bethany turned smartly on her heel to vacate only to stop at the moment. “Oh, and you heard me correctly. Unless there is a charitable soul backstage willing to risk facing the same stipulations beside you, this will also be a Handicap Match!!”
With Lizzie’s lips open in a stutter, she was at least not left to wonder just who it was that was determined to take away her future...
www.youtube.com/watch?v=9zuxJlCh618
Whilst the music was unfamiliar to the FAWN Faithful, a track entitled ‘Doomsday’ seemed appropriate considering the circumstances and, barely a scant few moments, the heralds of the Brit’s own strut out onto the stage.
Daisy LeMay
Alejandra Fernandez
The identity of Alejandra was not immediately apparent for the Orlando occupants, but the more astute amongst their ranks recognised her five foot three, one hundred and twenty-three pound frame as a promising Jungle, Lightweight Powerhouse and former partner to one Soledad Sanchez. While she herself arrived with little fanfare, she embodied plenty of threat, rolling her shoulders and filling out every inch of her black leather one piece, the neckline of which plunged almost directly down to just north of her navel, with menace. Her eyes were only for Cromwell, matching the outnumbered Brits stature and then some.
It was Daisy LeMay who earned the most immediate response, the FAWNatics letting their displeasure be known almost from the moment of her arrival. The Babyfaced blonde was wearing enough pink lace and floral patterns to confuse the uninitiated, even her most practiced ‘butter wouldn’t melt’ expression could fool the vast majority for even a moment. She seemed to revel in it, mocking them with the sweetest of smiles as she skipped with hands behind her back, surely not the one responsible for blindsiding and demolishing one of FAWN’s favourites.
Swiftly they descended upon the squared circle and the trapped Cromwell, talking opposite directions as they circled the ring as if cornering their victim. Lizzie, by contrast, looked distinctly uncertain, looking between her opponents and all four corners, unable to find one that could be considered safety.
Although LeMay was clearly reluctant to put her new, red headed plaything out of her misery, Daisy made the decision for her and directed Fernandez to the ringside closest to the aisle, closing off the possible exit for the Brit. Climbing and sliding into the ring with the confidence of those with the deck stacked firmly in their favour, the blonde and brunette both choice to scowl and smirk in their own ways as LeMay took a proffered stick.
“Nothing personal red,” Daisy cooed, although honesty was lacking. “Oh, who am I kidding, this is plenty personal. We’re taking what’s yours Lizzie, and we’re going to beat you half to death to do it. Are we good?” LeMay smiled with sickening sweetness, “Good, now ring the bell halfwit!” she turned her frosting covered ire onto the Official, her words at odds with her tone, “No-one else is going to be stupid enough to come out here!”
The Official, however, would not be cowed and, as Lizzie gave the first pleading look of her young life, he was willing to allow a few brief moments to pass, a chance for someone, anyone, to step forwards...
The silence that followed was long enough to be uncomfortable, and it was only as Cromwell was about to give up hope, when the duo that sought to replace her were at their smuggest, the speakers ripped into renewed life!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=b5zXinAj5TI
For a few, fleeting moments, the unfamiliar chords caught the FAWN Faithful flat footed, for while the undeniably upbeat rhythm encouraged a positive reception, they weren’t entirely certain if they should be believing what they were seeing. The moment the all too familiar and all too endearing graphic for the Upstart Nation flashed into view upon FAWNTRON however, all hesitation was discarded and a hearty cheer ripped forth across the packed arena as the Loyalist Legionnaires, gathered in their thousands, pledged their allegiance to the peppiest of factions once more.
The moment Samantha Sinclair appeared on stage, regardless of the reason, that was when the FAWNatics truly lost their sh*t, the Leader of the Upstart Nation standing as tall as her perfectly petite mass would allow her, catching the light in all the right places as she whipped both her arms up high and waved. Five foot four and one hundred and ten pounds of athletically sculptured, miniature might, Sammie Sinclair was every inch the People’s Princess as she cheered back, shimmering in her golden/yellow attire and blushing fiercely with her dimple, freckled cheeks flushing a delightful crimson.
Samantha Sinclair
Her change in tunes was not the only alteration for a new year as, on her first PPV of twenty-fifteen she also sported a fresh variation on her snugly fitting and bright ensemble. Her sports bra remained the same, smoothly curved about her small, proud bosom, leaving her softly sculptured tummy bare and her upraised arms the same way. It was to be her boy cut shorts that had apparently vanished, replaced instead by a short skirt which, with a generous slit running up the right side, revealed a wonderful shot of her firm thigh as the baby brown eyed darling hopped up onto her tip toes and spiralled. Her boots were similarly altered, still bright blue and reaching upwards to just beneath her kneecaps, they were now tanned from firm leather and sported lacing right up the front.
With the flourish of her spiral completed, the People’s Princess set her feet apart and kept her fingers wiggling heavenwards, nodding to her followers with a knowing smirk and, as she brought her palms together for a loud CLAP!! the Loyalist Legionnaires followed through as one.
ONCE!
TWICE!!
THRICE!!!
And with her statement of intent made clear she pointed directly towards the squared circle, a hearty explosion of pyrokenetics erupting to either side of the stage that she was standing on. Samantha Sinclair was here and, with a joy induced skip she head down the aisle at a swift sprint, the second generation superstar with chocolate curls bouncing free about her slender shoulders now a little older, a little wiser and, after the last year was no longer only of Championship Pedigree, she was of proven Championship Quality. The girl was now a young woman, and she was looking all the bolder for it.
Fearless? Perhaps not, the Little Sparrow would be the first to admit to her short fallings, but nerve?
She most defiantly had nerve.
The moment Sinclair reached the squared circle, the Golden Girl took her short detour right ways and, much to the delight of those who found themselves closet, Sammie began clapping every outstretched hand that she discovered, paying particular attention to the youngest in attendance. Beating a fast track around the ring, she soon found herself back at start, a run, skip and jump taking her clean up onto the apron. Grasping the top coil with both her paws, the Bright Eyed Wonder leaned back and, following a cheeky shake her pert buttocks, she shot right over the top rope with an applause worthy sault.
Without skipping a step, her landing feather light and flawless, the People’s Princess extended her palm outwards and, without hesitation, the Announcer gladly surrendered his microphone into her possession. She rewarded him with a wink and turned on the spot at centre ring, one hand on hip as she turned her full attention not upon the FAWNatics as she usually would do, but instead to the glowering duo opposite. She wasn’t smiling quite so much now, the Jungle Invaders finding themselves the focus of Sinclair’s (not as fearsome as she would like) scrunching of her button nose, Babyface dander on show as only a Babyface could do.
“Daisy, zip it!” she warned, cutting her off at the pass before she could begin, “Bethany has given you more than enough airtime to state your business, and being as you felt the need to mud stomp me on your March to War, now it’s my turn.”
Again, before either of the ambitious team from the lower league could utter another syllable, the Bright Eyed Wonder turned her back on them, approaching the downcast Elizabeth who cut a dejected, lonely... lost figure in her corner. “Cromwell... Lizzie,” Samantha held out her free hand, one new generation Brit extending out her palm to another, “we haven’t always seen eye to eye, I don’t agree with a lot of what you’re done here, but given that I have an itch in need of scratching, have you got room over here for one more?”
Cromwell looks down at the proffered hand. Even though Sinclair saved her from Alessandra at Chills there was an awful lot of water under the bridge to ignore, bitter losses among them. But one thing Elizabeth learned was that Sammie meant what she said, even if it had been to her detriment in the past. With her FAWN career on the line versus not one but two eager and unscrupulous women wanting nothing more than her place in the bigs, Lizzie concedes.
"I do indeed," Cromwell responds, grasping Sammie's palm and shaking vigorously. "Thanks Sinclair," she sputters, the words seeming both unnatural and appropriate in the same moment. "I guess I owe ya one, er two," the redhead added sheepishly.
For the Jungle members across the way, the hot Latina newbie and the flaxen-haired veteran looking for another chance at the top level, this turn of events is far from welcome. They protest vigorously to the referee.
"Bring it up with Miss Christian" is his only response and the steamed and steamy duo are cut to the quick.
Her veteran presence showing itself, Daisy ushers Fernandez through the ropes, claiming the lead as her own. She focuses on the People's Interloper. "You want me to zip it Sinclair?" she shouts. "How 'bout you send the World's Worst Brit where she belongs, outside the ring, and come over here and make me!"
Sammie pouted her lower lip in thought, her back remaining to the underhanded, double teaming blonde who had struck her down with a Daisy Cutter in the far too recent past. She pondered the matter over before she quirked a smile, tilting her head sideways as she posed her question to her partner, “should I?”
“You really should,” Lizzie encouraged, looking past one of Sinclair’s slender shoulders with a glower at the two ambitious women who wanted to take from them everything they had.
“Be right back,” Samantha nodded, turning about on the spot smartly and ensuring that her skirt was suitably adjusted, the red headed Brit likewise stepping out onto the apron and taking up residence in a corner that, now, no longer felt so lonely. Sinclair’s own march was likewise a short one, taking her to within range with Daisy and, with both standing in at a delightfully petite stature, she stood eye to eye.
“Generally, I frown upon sucker punching,” the Little Sparrow dispensed the words of warning as she likewise adjusted her top.
“Get over it,” Daisy scoffed, unrepentant for her earlier behaviour.
“I intend to!” Sammie huffed, releasing a week or two worth of frustration as she made one last step forward, turned smartly and snapped her right, fantastically athletic stem upwards into the air for a blistering Sammie Kick to an unsuspecting jaw!!
But Lemay proves she is suspecting, the one-time FAWNer and long-time Jungle native dipping under the sweeping boot of the Upstart. Sinclair's momentum sends her spinning in a 180, her back to Lemay. Daisy surrounds Sammie's taut midriff with her arms and cinches them tight in a not so sweet embrace, drawing a grunt from the freckled cutie.
"You'll have to do better than..." Daisy words are cut off as Sammie lands a back elbow into the location she missed with the kick. The blonde's arms slide from around Sinclair's waist as Lemay shakes her ringing noggin. But when Sammie turns to face her, Daisy is ready with a toe kick to the tummy that stops Sinclair's advance. With her foe doubled over, Daisy cocks her right arm, ready to deliver a stiff European Uppercut to Sammie's jaw as a proper welcome to the match.
Caught flush beneath her pixie chin, Sinclair’s tiny frame shot back up to vertical, an ‘erf!’ upon her lips as she stumbled backwards. It was only half a step, but the shimmy was telling, the Upstart blinking as the Loyalist Legionnaires voiced their worry, the anticipated retribution not exactly materialising. After an attempt to move forwards, the disorientated and startled young women instead found herself continuing to go backwards, her shoulders soon finding themselves pressing against the ropes.
Daisy grabs a wrist. "You aren't dealing with a rookie," Lemay informs, "You want to leave with Cromwell. Good riddance." The blonde heaves Sinclair into motion with an Irish whip. Sammie scurries across the canvas and bounds into the far cables. For her part, Daisy follows to the middle of the ring and sets in Sinclair's path. As Sammie closes in, Daisy dips in preparation for sending the nosy brat high into the air with a back body drop.
While the ropes were usually her friend, tonight they seemed to be determined to Sammie’s enemies, the small brunette bouncing off the coils and heading back towards the waiting blonde. As Daisy ducked low, Sinclair was soon sent high, the veteran straightening with a thrust and hurtling the crowd favourite skywards. Only for a surprised cheer to ripple across the arena for, as the Little Sparrow sailed through the air, it was less a back body drop, and more a Leap Frog!
Sammie landed upon her steady feet with pop and short skip, the enthusiastic bounce replaced by a resurgent sprint quickly enough. She hit the coils again, this time under her own power, the spritely battler turning into the ropes and allowing them to snap tight, launching her back into the ring. Sinclair cleared the distance in no time, one last step launching her into a dive as she spread her delightfully nimble frame into a crossbody spla –
Daisy caught her!! While the blonde perhaps lacked the strength to simply snatch her brunette counterpart clean out the air, the sudden stop was more than enough to spring a pained grunt from the tiny body of the road blocked Sammie. Momentum was to be Lemay’s friend as she spun rapidly with the impact, snuggling her grasp to tightly secure the trim tummy of her soon to be victim and, laying out, SLAMMED!! the dizzied fan favourite to the mat with a Sidewalk Slam!
Sammie GRUNTED and groaned and she was planted across her shoulders into the canvas, her tummy punished barely a moment later as the blonde who clearly had her number drilled her body weight onto it. Following a pained recoil, Sinclair flopped and shuddered, trying to remember where she had been derailed.
Lemay presses tight to Sinclair in a pin attempt, rolling the Brit into a tight cradle for...
ONE!
TWO!!
Sammie forces her way free, saving her FAWN career and Elizabeth's.
Daisy kips to her feet, enjoying the disdain of the Legionnaires who don't appreciate the blonde stealing their beloved Upstart's move. She turns to the FAWNatics raising her hands in the air. "Enjoy Sammie's last night here. I'm packing her bags personally." Daisy ambles around Sinclair and genuflects a knee into the brunette's ribs that draws a gasp.
Lemay drags Sinclair to her feet and bullies the Golden Girl into the corner of the women seeking freedom from The Jungle. Daisy shoves Sammie into the buckles and keeps her pinned there while reaching over Sinclair's shoulder and tagging Alejandra.
The spicy Latina climbs to the top buckle instead of heading in. Meanwhile, Daisy dips and wraps her arms around Sammie's thighs. She lifts the lightweight off her boot leather and turns so the raised Sinclair is facing Fernandez. The newly legal Alejandra leaps with right arm drawn, ready to clothesline Sammie into the spin cycle.
Sinclair was clearly rattled, the small battler far too compliant for her own good as she was muscled up into the air, adorable noggin dipped slightly as she cradled her ribs. Sat atop Daisy’s shoulders, she was an easy target for Alejandra as she took flight, the exotic rookie unable to miss as she scythed an arm across the crowd favourite’s neck, ripping her from her perch with a pained chirp and sending her ground wards towards disaster.
While Lemay was no giant, the fall was still over five feet, and Sammie ended her descent with a GRUNT inducing stop with her shoulders cracking against the canvas. With a sharp juddering, the Princess recoiled with a worrisome spasm, and yet the People could only watch as she remained folded. With the fine fabric of her skirt slipping down past her firm thighs, Sammie’s pert little buttocks pointed skywards, a far cry it seemed from the heroine who had entered.
The curvy Californian, who'd cut her teeth in Tijuana before getting her chance in The Jungle, rises and hovers over the blasted Brit. But the respite is only for a moment as Fernandez gets to booting the Upstart into a mudhole. Satisfied, her young partner in crime has things in hand, Lemay exits.
In the opposite corner, Cromwell starts a rhythmic clap with the fans, trying to inspire her partner. Whether it was out of self-interest or concern couldn't be clear.
Done with her dance on Sammie's frame, Alejandra pulls Sinclair to her feet by dual handfuls of hair. Fernandez spins Sammie in a pirouette and releases, Sinclair racing to the ropes and u-turning once more, this time the pert People's Princess headed for a big raised right boot from the Latina.
This time, it seemed, there was to be no attempted acrobatics to save her bacon as, much to the Legionnaires mounting horror, Sammie was caught flush across her pixie chin again. With her freckled noggin snapping sideways, the rest of the Former Lightweight Champion followed suit and she spiralled in a wild one eighty, dropping down against the canvas and skidding across the mat in a boneless heap.
With a protracted groan, Sinclair at last showed the resilience that she was known for and, despite the punishment heaped upon her, began to roll over under her own power. With defiant effort to wrapped her arm about the bottom rope and began what was sure to be a long process of dragging herself back up to vertical.
Alejandra looks at Sinclair then at a rightly worried Elizabeth. "This is your saviour, gringa?" Fernandez asks. "You might have been better in a handicap."
Alejandra strides to Sammie as the Upstart pulls up to vertical. She turns the wobbly Samantha to face her. Pushing her foe's head and upper torso over the top rope with her left forearm pressed tightly to the throat of Sinclair, the spicy brawler lets loose on Sammie's pert chest with a series of right forearm smashes. Each impact rocks Sammie in turn, it looking more and more by the minute Sinclair isn't ready for the ferocity with which these women want her place.
With the official reaching 'FOUR' on his count, Alejandra yanks Sinclair away from the strands. She dips, sends her right arm between Sammie's abbreviated stems, and 'hups' the Upstart off the canvas and onto her right shoulder, planning to surge forward and deliver the freckled favourite heavily to the canvas with a running Powerslam.
Ragdolled was an expression that no wrestler wanted attached to any part of her career, but as her rival left her battered and breathless, Sammie couldn’t be described as anything else as she curled backwards over the top coil her pretty peepers fluttering. The thrust of an arm invading between her parted thighs encouraged a groan but little resistance, her featherweight frame little burden for her opponent as she was hupped up neatly across one, strong shoulder. Like an adorable sack of potatoes, the Bright Eyed Wonder was hauled across the ring, Alejandra flexing her biceps to –
Sammie slipped free, a (not really) fearsome war cry summoned from somewhere as, at the last moment, the beloved brunette wriggled free and dropped down out the back. With a skirt the colour of gold fluttering, Sammie crouched with her landing and, as Fernandez spun around, popped back up and spiralled into a new Sammie Kick!!
The startled look on Fernandez's face as the squirmy, slippery Sammie slides down her back, ruining a perfectly good ending for the freckled flea, is nothing compared to the wide dark eyes on her flawless features when Sammie's educated feet, or in this case, foot, ZOOMS into the point of Alejandra's chin. The force the diminutive Golden Girl puts in her signature is substantial, particularly for girls the same height. With Alejandra qualifying, her noggin snaps back in a wicked whiplash. The Latina's muscles seem to grow rigid, eyes instantly glassy, and Fernandez timbers to the canvas like a cut tree, THUMPING down on her back and backside.
The “WHOOP!!” from the FAWNatics was immediate, the spot from Sammie never failing to please once the blistering strike makes connection, even Elizabeth, understandably so, finding cause for celebration on this occasion. The mood was somewhat dampened when Sinclair went down also, the Golden Girl glorious in her shimmering attire and yet, seemingly, unable to stay upright.
She flopped, dropping to the canvas and laying across her back, pretty peepers half fluttered as her bosom, pert and petite, rose slowly with her shallow breathing. Vital seconds were wasted as she remained idle, her fire spent in that one moment as Alejandra inevitably shook off her own impact. Indeed, she was the first to begin rising, coaxed on by the demands of Daisy, the blonde having been in complete control before tagging out none too pleased to see that control slipping from her fingers.
The still dulled eyes Hernandez growled as she did not at all appreciate the tone, but recovering she was as she sat up, rubbing her suddenly sore jaw as the Leader of the Upstart Nation remained splayed ou –
Refusing to do things by half, Sammie inhaled a sharp breath and won the race to vertical with a single, wonderfully fluid motion. After first tucking her perfectly carved frame into a snug little ball, Sinclair exploded out of it with a leap that could only be described as FAWN’s Favourite Kip Up! Bursting to life, adrenaline surging, the Tiny Titan sprinted across the canvas, Alejandra scrambling to keep up, pushing up to one knee and providing the brunette charging towards her with the platform she wanted!
With her step in place, Sammie pointed out her right knee, leading with her equally patented Golden Wizard to nail her opponents jaw again, a short pit stop along her way to tagging in the impatient Cromwell!
GOLDEN WIZARD
www.youtube.com/watch?v=iiHreVqEhsY
Alejandra's head snaps back from the knee to her temple and her body follows suit, the Latina sent sprawling. Meanwhile Sammie hardly slows on her way to the corner where her makeshift partner awaits. Sinclair grins as she offers her hand. "Go get her Lizzie," she offers enthusiastically and sweetly.
Cromwell rolls her eyes but slips through to do just that. Collecting Fernandez by the head, she tugs the FAWN wannabe to her feet and spins her foe so they're back to back. Transferring her grip to send both sets of fingers into Alejandra's long, lush raven locks, Elizabeth leans forward, drawing Fernandez onto her back, curling the spine of the Latina while apparently trying to rip out her mane at the scalp with her hair pull hangman.
Formally her first introduction to Cromwell inside the ring, Fernandez was not at all pleased to make the personal acquaintance. Perhaps she had imagined, in the week’s proceedings the PPV, that matters would unfold otherwise, but as she was pivoted and wrenched painfully upwards onto her tiptoes by claw holds to her scalp, the Latina HOWLED not only in anger, but also misery.
“GRRRAAAAAHHHH!” she cursed without articulation, her back curled up and over the torture rack that the Boarding School Princess made of her own, the red head she was determined to replace jostling her to and fro, “You Jobbering Tramp, I’ll rip you in HALF!!”
The comment might have struck a little close to home considering Cromwell's run of bad form and Elizabeth growls at the remark, setting Fernandez down, but only so she can spin to face her and deliver a head-twisting bytch slap to Alejandra. "I've beaten legends. You're in The Jungle, bytch!"
When the reddened face of the Latina wobbles back toward the ginger's, Lizzie grabs both shoulders and DRIVES a knee into the tawny expanse of her foe's tummy. Alejandra doubles over with a grunt and Elizabeth sinks her digits into Fernandez's long locks again, this time Cromwell planning to sit out and splatter Alejandra's features into the deck with a Facebuster.
For possibly the first time in her young career, Elizabeth was able to enjoy her first ever positive reception from the audience. Perhaps it was due to her association with Sinclair, perhaps it was because she was paying back some karma to the rampaging duo against whom she was set against, perhaps it was for one of many reasons, but it seemed all the louder tonight as Lizzie left her feet and lead the way down towards the canvas with her perky buttocks. While her firm rump was sure to be sore, it was the cursing Fernandez who was to be left reeling as she led her descent with her pained features, the ambitious Jungle Dweller THUMPING the canvas with her forehead!
With a solid whiplash her head snapped backwards, Alejandra recoiling from the impact as she bounced with a pained spasm and, after an ungraceful flip, flopped outwards into a starfish.
Elizabeth passes on the pin attempt, instead looking over at Daisy. "Feel lucky you're on the outside," Cromwell assures.
"Give me a chance, worst Brit. And you'll be out of work. You and your friend."
Elizabeth scoffs at the thought, both of being unemployed and about Sammie as a friend. She rises and draws the wobbly Alejandra with her. Lizzie leads Fernandez to the ropes and forces her face down on the top cable. Lizzie draaaags Fernandez's eyes down the length of the rope and ends the trip by pulling her head back and POUNDING it into the top turnbuckle. Alejandra's noggin snaps back and she falls into Cromwell's arms.
"Guess we won't be finding out today," the BSP says. Turning Alejandra, Elizabeth captures the Latina in a front facelock and draws her towards the centre of the ring, preparing to layout and SPIKE Fernandez's skull into the canvas with a DDT.
While she had received far too many blunt force traumas to her noggin in far too short amount of time to continue with her angered mutterings, Fernandez was none the less hardly about to let herself go quietly into the night. She pushed and wriggled, albeit without coordination and not with quite as much vigour as she had done so earlier, clawing at Lizzie’s firm thighs and shoving against the other young talents hip.
Cromwell, however, would not be denied, channelling the success of her early career as she rocked sharply backwards, yanking the Latina along for the ride with her PLANTING the top of the dark haired young women’s skull into the barely yielding plywood!! With a yelp and pained juddering, Alejandra spasmend, tensed and then flopped, her frame now more than malleable enough for Elizabeth to roll her over and tuck her up into a neat ball.
ONE!
TWO!!
Unwilling to give up her dreams quite so easily, Daisy was quickly into the ring, breaking up the pinfall and punting the sole of her boot into the back of Lizzie’s shoulders!
Cromwell's back arches as she wonders what hit her. Turning, freckled face twisted in pain and anger, Cromwell finds religion about cheating, demanding the blonde be removed immediately.
As the official works to do just that, Cromwell pulls Alejandra up with her, both women now on their feet. "Get her out and keep her out," Lizzie shouts, waving Lemay through the ropes. "Now what are we arGUHHHAHHH!!"
The lovely Latina jabs a thumb in Cromwell's left eye when she turns toward her. The Liverpool native spins away howling, rubbing at her socket while cursing a blue streak. She stretches a hand out in front of her, trying to find Sammie, but her aim is off. Instead, Alejandra intercepts the Boarding School Princess before she can make the tag with a side kick to her midriff that bends Lizzie at the waist. Fernandez dips and sends an arm between Cromwell's thighs, planning to scoop the Brit onto her right shoulder and deposit her to the canvas with a slam so she can get to her corner and get her partner back in the swing.
Despite the enthusiastic clapping from Sammie at ringside, the gutted Elizabeth proves to be little burden to Alejandra as she scoops the lass from England up and secures the suddenly compliant BSP across her powerful shoulder. Shaking her head out, feeling the cobwebs but refusing to be cowed by them, the Latina marches the upended Brit across the ring and, satisfied that they were close enough to friendly territory, she SLAMMED Lizzie down into the mat!
Forcibly planted, the freckled young Brit remains where she was nailed as she inhaled a pained gasp, one that was cut short as Alejandra vindictively stomped down upon the fallen girls bosom and used her as a stepping stone. Leaving her gasping rival laid out behind her, the Latina all but casually held out her palm and accepted the tag from Daisy, the distinct impression abounding that she wasn’t been given a choice.
Which wasn’t to say that she was happy to leave just yet.
Turning about she returned to Cromwell, scraping the struggling young women off the mat and, following a savage kneelift to a firm tummy, ‘taming’ the Hellcat before securing her in a firm headlock. Sammie continued in her attempts to rally her flagging partner, but even with the FAWNatics joining in, Lizzie was still hupped skywards, the tips of her boots sent pointing towards the ceiling as Fernandez, displaying impressive strength, supported the former Lightweight Champion in a Stalling Suplex.
The eyelids of Cromwell began to flutter as the blood in her divine body began pooling southwards, turning her freckled cheeks rosy and making her dizzy. It left her in little position to appreciate her predicament, not even as Lemay hopped up onto the top rope and, using it as a spring board, the blonde launched herself towards her intended victim!
@2:05
www.youtube.com/watch?v=sriE7xtusW4
And, working better than the ad-hoc British combination had, the disparate Jungle girls work in perfect harmony. Together, they send Cromwell hurtling to the canvas SLAMMING hard against the deck. With Daisy now the legal entrant, Alejandra slides through the ropes and leaves Cromwell to her partner.
Daisy flips through a senton, her back CRASHING across Elizabeth's chest. Cromwell spasms from the impact then falls still. Spinning to a lateral press, Lemay hook a leg and rolls the splattered Lizzie into a tight ball for the...
ONE!
TWO!!
KICKOUT!!!
Elizabeth fights her way free, ending on her side, dark eyes blinking wide, but she's temporarily unable to do much more, the tag team effort leaving her dazed.
With the composure of one who clearly believed that the outcome of tonight was a formality, Daisy made not a peep of protest as she slipped away from the failed pin and, remaining on one knee, turned sleekly about the back of the woozy Cromwell. Tucking her palms beneath the Brits shoulders, the pink clad Heel hupped the compliant Hellcat up to sitting and, betraying the scouting she had done before this contest, sought to put Lizzie away as Bianchi had done barely a month earlier at Bloody Valentine!
“You’re absolutely right Cromwell,” she cooed far too sweetly, slapping a firm Sleeper onto her sitting victim, “I am lucky to be here.”
Daisy's arms snake around the throat and head of Elizabeth, Lemay kneeling behind her foe and driving her weight down on Elizabeth's cranium even as she cuts off the blood supply to the brain within.
Knowing very well what the blonde has in mind from the sleepy time at Bloody Valentines, Cromwell twists and squirms, scooting on her butt to work her way free of Daisy's grip. But Lemay has all the leverage and though Daisy has to slide along with Cromwell, she keeps the pressure in place. Slowly, Lizzie's eyes become glassy and the movement of her limbs uncoordinated. Still against all odds, Cromwell leans against the woman behind her and uses the Jungle native to move her way from seated to vertical.
With Daisy close to putting Elizabeth back down in a snoozing state, Cromwell reaches above and behind her, wrapping her arms around the top of Daisy's head while positioning the crown of her own head on the blonde's chin, planning to drop to the canvas and jawjack her foe.
Too late, Lemay’s deceptively doe eyed peepers open wide in alarm as she realised what is happening, and even as she began to unclamp her own arms, Lizzie had snapped closed her own trap! A sharp drop followed, one that ended with an all too sudden stop for the gobsmacked blonde as her chin was all but CRACKED across the Brits shoulder! Daisy whiplashed away, grunting in misery as she flipped over onto her back, clutching her features as they throbbed. This time frustration did show, angry curses accompanying the stomps of her boots against the canvas!
Cromwell shakes some of her remaining marbles back into place and struggles to her feet. She moves to Lemay and lifts a boot to stomp the blonde's midriff but Daisy catches the leather before it reaches its target. A startled Lizzie tries to wrench her leg free, but a shove by the blonde sends Elizabeth crashing to the canvas. With both women grounded, they tear into each other with claws bared, getting catty, tearing into hair and otherwise scratching and clawing.
The duo roll as one across the ring and, as luck would have it, to the corner where Sammie stands cheering on her teammate. With both grapplers unaware, the Golden Girl reaches through the ropes and slaps Lizzie's derriere, making herself legal.
While the official tries to make the snarling Cromwell and Lemay cognizant of the switch, Sammie hops over the ropes and into the ring.
Fernandez, on the other hand, enjoyed a perfect view of the proceedings and, with a colourful shout, was desperate to alert Daisy to the danger. Quickly coming to the conclusion that being vocal wasn’t going to be enough, she ducked low and all but immediately thrust herself into the ring as well.
Sammie was having none of it, shenanigans high on her list of matters in need of preventing as, already light footed following her landing; she darted across the ring at a spritely sprint. Even as Alejandra was returning to fully vertical, her chin was already being met by a surprisingly impressive, running clothesline from the diminutive brunette! With a startled “GUFF” the taller Fernandez was swept off her feet by the English Export of Perfectly Petite Proportions, smacked backwards and, as the ropes were leveraged against her shoulders, was sent flipping upwards and over the top coil and sent plummeting to the outside the ring.
Sinclair didn’t stop there, not with the People roaring in approval for their Princess, the girl with chocolate curls spinning on the spot and riding the momentum with her second sprint in the same minute. As Lemay was turning, criminally (and perhaps foolishly) showing her back to Cromwell, Sammie spotted a second chin that was in need of kissing, a patented kick that shared her name locked and loaded to remove a head from shoulders.
Sinclair catches Lemay under the chin, picking up a quick twofer against the Jungle girls. The blonde is lifted off her feet from the force of the blow and is sent sailing into Cromwell. The impact sends Elizabeth tumbling through the ropes, crashing to the floor below. Sammie blushes at having sent her partner sprawling outside. She leans over the ropes, gazing sheepishly at the dazed redhead. But apologies could come later. Sammie turns to Daisy, Lemay propped up slightly on her elbows, shaking her senses back into place. "At least now," Daisy grunts, "I get to kick a REAL major leaguer's ass.
As compliments go, that one smacked of being backhanded and, on this occasion, did not speak well of her partner, and Lizzie being a rival or not, such an insinuation was always going to raise her Babyface dander. The scrunching of her button nose was the giveaway and, as she adjusted the belt of her mini skirt, Sammie bent low to retrieve the struggling Lemay, tugging the Blonde up onto her feet and, slinging an arm across her shoulders, prepared to deliver a neat, snap suplex that could only have been tutored by one Wendy Smith!
“Win a Title,” Sammie scolded with a tone that wasn’t very good at doing so, “then you can talk!”
Having secured Daisy by her head with one arm and a grip on Lemay's hip with the other, Sammie flips the blonde with super speed through a front flip, Daisy's back CRASHING to the canvas. But the Golden Girl doesn't give up her grip on Lemay's noggin and as Sammie scrambles to her feet she tugs Daisy with her. The Upstart sets Lemay up again in similar fashion and whips her over again, Daisy again left with a pain-scrunched face, her back arched in agony. BUT Sammie again doesn't let go and she forces the aching Lemay up for one final point. She vaults the blonde through a third snap suplex getting a painful trifecta. With a mewling Daisy laid out on the canvas, Sinclair kips to her feet for a flourish of a finale, the crowd going bonkers for the display.
It proved to be the perfect time for the Little Sparrow to begin clapping, the rapid three beat rhythm gleefully taken up by the Loyalist Legionnaires in attendance, both the bombastic beat of the Upstart Nation’s March to War and, on this occasion, a celebration for the trio of Suplexes that had laid out her most recent tormentor.
Apparently unhappy with standing still, Sammie took off with yet another sprint for the nearest ropes, pointing to them before hand for the audiences approval, leaping at the last moment and, after bunny hopping gracefully upon the middle coil, she utilised the wicked spring to launch her tiny frame into a backwards flip, the Lionsault aimed to slap her tummy down hard across Daisy’s!
Dazed by the trio of forceful landings on the deck, Lemay is distracted by the ache emanating from her vertebrae. And while her baby blues flash when Sammie skips over her to reach the ropes, it seems she's unable to do anything about the impending Sammiesault. The People's Princess plummets toward the crossbody collision when Daisy tucks her knees in and up, offering them as a landing spot for Sammie's belly. With gravity suddenly turned from friend to foe, Sinclair SLAMS down across the pointed joints, the crowd groaning as Sammie rolls away swaddling her tummy gurgling, eyes wide. Beside her, Daisy straightens out of her ball and rolls up to all fours, looking at Alejandra more than pressing the issue with a turtled Sammie.
After being upended outside the ring faster than she had been trying to get back into it, Alejandra was furious as she leaned heavily over the top rope and held her hand out as far as her arm would stretch, switching her gaze between the slowly crawling Lemay and the shuddering, gutted Sammie. Fernandez flexed her fingers as Daisy inched closer, Sinclair rolling sideways in tandem as a despairing crowd willed her to recover faster.
She wouldn’t do so, not quickly enough, Alejandra grinning with vicious intent as she streeeeetched out just a little further... only for a GASP!! to escape her lips as both her feet were swept out from underneath her, an exploring Cromwell charging about the outside of the ring and slamming her forearm into the Jungle Girls ankles! With her footing on the apron robbed, Fernandez tumbled out of reach of her partner and towards the waiting concrete!
After the sound of the meaty impact on the floor, out of her sight, Daisy turns and looks plaintively at the official who shrugs, seeming to indicate 'it's outside the ring what do you want me to do?'.
Knowing she has no backup at the moment, Lemay pushes to her feet and walks toward Sammie, sinking her fingers into the dark locks of the kneeling Sinclair. "Looks like the worst Brit ever wants it to be all about you and me," Daisy barks. "Suits me."
Lemay tugs Sammie up to her feet, the Golden Girl still bent at the waist. She pivots, dropping her right arm low and delivers a BIG European Uppercut to Sammie's chin sending Sinclair backpedalling into a neutral corner. She thumps into the buckles and bounces out toward a waiting blonde.
Lemay dips and throws an arm between Sinclair's legs, popping the diminutive sweetheart across LeMay's shoulders. Daisy rushes forward with Sammie in a fireman's carry and starts to somersault forward, planning to THUMP Sammie to the deck as she does.
As much as the FAWNatics wanted Sinclair to wriggle free, the Former Lightweight Champion was little more than baggage as she was hupped across the dominant blondes shoulders. Groaning as she remained compliant, the rattled brunette was vaguely aware of the impending danger before her new rival dived forwards, IMPALING the crowd sweetheart to the canvas who released an alarmed GRUNT!
Winded again, her taunt little tummy further abused and nailed between Daisy and plywood, Sammie remained where LeMay saw fit to plant her. With freckled cheeks rosy she recoiled from the impact and, for a moment at least, genuflected back up to sitting. Cradling her slender midriff, the Bright Eyed Wonder soon toppled back over, slumping to her side with a pained gasp, the slit of her skirt slipping open and revealing her right, wonderfully athletic thigh to the cameras.
With Elizabeth back in her appointed corner, Cromwell demands Sammie get off her ass and make it to her waiting hand. But when Sinclair tries, a risen Daisy is waiting to take Sammie's wrist. Lemay leads a wobbly Sinclair toward Cromwell, extending the arm of the brunette but then yanking it away when it gets close, teasing a flushed Elizabeth.
"I'm doing you a favour, you flop," Lemay contends, before turning Sammie and Irish whipping her to the opposite corner. Sammie sprints to the far buckles and turns into a HEAVY collision with the buckles, her body rocked. She slumps, but is suddenly straightened when Alejandra hooks her elbows with Sammie's and pulls her tight. A grinning Daisy nods and rushes toward the perky Upstart, leaping as she closes in to give the world a new Sammie-move, a Sammie-splash.
A move that the world wasn’t ready for, the FAWNatics eager to raise their voice in collective warning as LeMay took flight, on target to retain her momentum against Sinclair. Sammie, however, was equally unhappy to witness a Sammie assault that she had no hand in devising and, before the others could blink, puffed out her cherub cheeks and turned her captivity to her advantage!
With her arms linked with Fernandez, her petite mass held steady and securely, Sammie used the tight embrace to keep her from falling as a (not very scary) war shout escaped her and she swept her shapely stems upwards and thrust them out. With the Most Prolific of the Sinclair’s legs outstretched into the air and held rigid, Daisy’s landing was suddenly far from appealing.
Daisy's eyes go wide, but her momentum can't be stopped in time and Sammie's sinewy if abbreviated legs clamp down around Lemay's braincase in a scissors. When Fernandez releases one of her hooks to pound Sammie, Sinclair quickly throws a freed elbow behind her and catches the Latina in the jaw, loosening the Golden Girl completely from Fernandez's clutches.
Sammie throws herself to the side, dropping off the buckles and, with her scissors on Daisy still intact, the blonde tumbles along for the ride. The Jungle girl is sent flying then sliding with the headscissors takedown.
Behind Sinclair, a furious Fernandez steps through the ropes. But a certain Brit across the ring enters as well, racing toward the raven-haired beauty with shoulder lowered, ready to make sure Alejandra doesn't get the drop on her partner, hoping to spear Fernandez in half.
And spear her in half the red head does, a shout on her own lips as she dived and slammed a shoulder deep into the gulping tummy of the astonished Alejandra, a war cry which was, unlike her beloved partners, every bit as intimidating as it was meant to be. Fernandez folded as though something had been broken and, with the turnabout rapidly unfolding and the carnage mounting, the Loyalist Legionnaires erupted with applause!
As Cromwell and Alejandra hit the deck, the two legal entrants were pulling themselves back off it. Blonde and Brunette found their way to vertical at the same moment and, as if reading from the same song sheet, they charged across the ring in unison, that is until they reached centre. That was when the metaphorical duet diverged and Sammie ducked low beneath the scything clothesline, heading towards her teams corner, a tactical error to be certain as Lizzie clearly wasn’t there to receive her...
Or not, as the case proved to be, Sammie showing no confusion following an absent partner as she instead began skipping her way up the turnbuckles. With beguiling speed the Golden Girl found herself perched at the heavens, turning herself about without pause to face back inside the ring. With dexterity and balance to be envied, Sinclair took flight, targeting to tangle herself about LeMay and plant her to the canvas with a flying DDT!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=EMM_vsiXmmo&feature=player_embedded
Sammie takes flight toward a turning Daisy who finds Sinclair already on her way. She tries to get some defence together, but Sinclair's arm encircles her head too quickly. Sammie lets her pert little toosh drop directly to the canvas, the small, but fast-moving mass yanking Daisy off her moorings and SPIKING her skull into the canvas with brutal force. Daisy tumbles over, ending on her side, cradling her noggin but unable to manage more movement than that.
Meanwhile, before the ref can guide her out of the ring, Lizzie has a wobbly Fernandez up, yanking her up by the hair. Cromwell gives the Latina a little unsolicited advice, then sweeps out her leg and PLANTS her into the canvas via her signature Silver Spoon Buster...
www.youtube.com/watch?v=kRXUkHPTKlc
The crowd loving the newly formed duo on the verge of saving their respective FAWN careers.
With a derisively dismissive Cromwell unceremoniously shovelling the brain blasted Fernandez out of her squared circle; Sammie was busy collecting an equally dishevelled Daisy. “Lizzie!” she shouted with a new smirk in place, brightening her freckled cheeks as she encouraged the blonde in her possession back up to standing, tucking her new rivals noggin in tight against her hip as though she were about to deliver a bulldog.
The red head apparently needed no further prompting, not with opportunity calling and she ducked and rolled outside the ring, her pace rapid as she made her way back towards home turf.
Satisfied that the pieces were falling into place, Sammie made the smallest of huffs and made off at a run, pulling LeMay along with her at a far more stumbling gait. Not satisfied with simply delivering a bulldog, the Leader of the Upstart Nation instead took them right on over to the turnbuckles, skipping her way up them for a second time with her grip still secured. Finding the top perch, the petite brunette kicked off with force and turned herself and Daisy about, the apex of the spiral encouraging Lizzie to return and earlier favour, reaching out to ‘tag’ Sinclair’s firm buttocks and make herself legal... but not before the Turnbuckle Run Bulldog threatened to SLAM a blondes noggin into the waiting plywood!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=BiAYqRuSSEo
Up the light footed Brit goes. She pushes off the top, sending her and her cargo into a u-turn. Sammie drops to her backside PLANTING Daisy's face into the thinly-sheathed plywood. Lemay's head bounces off the canvas and she flops to her back in a demolished starfish. Next to her sits a pleased-as-punch Sammie, rubbing a little ache out of her bum.
The superstar Upstart kips to her feet delighting the fans and even drawing a smile from an entering Lizzie. The redhead shares a snug hug with Sammie. "If you don't mind," Cromwell says to her possible...friend?
Sammie motions that Daisy is all hers and starts another clap for her former foe, drawing Cromwell's grin wider, the Legionnaires showing their support for Lizzie as well.
Cromwell draws a punch-drunk Daisy to her feet and into a front facelock, throwing the opposite arm of the blonde over a shoulder. A rare eruption of excitement accompanies the set up for Lizzie's Prep School Expulsion. Cromwell launches Lemay into the air, spinning Daisy at her overturned height, ready to sit out to the canvas and remove the Jungle vet from her senses.
@00:08
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ttqciIH5dA
Given Lizzie’s lack of success in recent memory, the FAWNatics held their collective breadths as the once feared Prep School Expulsion reached its apex, LeMay held aloft with just a second to slip free. It was a second within which she did not do so and, with a sudden drop, the crown of the ambitious Blondes head was NAILED!! into the canvas!! The ring itself rattled as the Legionnaires erupted, Cromwell swelling with relief as, for the first time this year, she was not the victim of her own Finisher and was instead, once again, it’s rightful owner!
Daisy recoiled from the brain busting impact like a broken doll, ricocheting up to sitting with her noggin swirling with its strings cut before she flopped over. Like the red headed Hellcat she was, the Boarding School Princess caught the scent of her would be replacements blood and pounced upon the other competitors weakness, flattening out the pink clad battlers shoulders and hooking both legs for good measure, rolling LeMay into a career saving pinfall!
ONE!
TWO!!
Daisy wasn’t moving, only Fernandez could save her now, but the dark haired beauty was equally as gobsmacked, still recovering from Elizabeth’s Silver Spoon Buster...
THREE!!!
Happiness, but more than that, relief washes over the face of Cromwell. She lets Daisy's leg fall to the canvas, rolls over, and reclines on the splattered body of the blonde. Wearily, the freckled redhead raises a hand and Sammie uses that as her cue to hop clean over the ropes.
As she hustles to Elizabeth, the ring announcer proclaims the obvious. "Your winners...the Best Brits Ever...Elizabeth Cromwell and Sammie Sinclair!!"
Lizzie rolls her eyes and shakes her head, though the pride remains. Apparently she would never be living down that statement, but at least tonight she has some evidence on her side...their side. She reaches a hand up toward Sinclair and accepts a yank up into a snugly embrace. "Thanks," Elizabeth says softly, almost sweetly.
“Yeah, well,” Sammie smirks, the impish expression initially hidden before the two pull back for a little breathing room, “I owed her a kick or two upside the head. Besides,” Sammie managed to smirk a little more, the hint of mischief revealing the competitiveness of the Tiny Titan, “we’ll never find out who the Best Brit Ever really is if you’re not around now will we?”
Before Lizzie could form a reply, Sammie took half a step backwards and, side by side with her career rival, clasped their fingers together and whipped their arms up in unison, the duo of Former Lightweight Champions flush with victory as the Legionnaires cheered as one. “Of course,” she tilted her chocolate curled noggin, scrunching up her button nose in thought, “Worlds Best Brits? That does have a nice ring to it...”
Elizabeth's smirk morphs into a wide grin. "If I can't get away from it, I might as well own it," Lizzie responds. "And yeah...if you want to own it too. Whenever you want."
Perhaps it was the emotion of winning AND keeping a job she dearly loved, but the sincerity is evident on the beaming visage of the Boarding School Princess. Sinclair had stepped up not once but twice, when no one else would have. And as much as Elizabeth both hated and loved admitting it, that made her a rare commodity in FAWN and her life in general, a friend.
