Post by alyadmirer on Jun 9, 2015 21:22:07 GMT
Without a word of warning the arena plunged into sudden darkness, the buzz of the thousands-strong crowd creating an eerie hum that was accompanied by the sound of Celtic pipes playing from the overhead speakers. That prompted the spectators to start to cheer in exultant anticipation, for they know what is coming next.
A single spotlight knifed through the black, at first illuminating nothing but the velvet curtain at the head of the ramp. But then the curtain pulled open, and out stepped one half of what was arguably one of FAWN’s greatest tag teams.
MAEVE KANE
That would be Maeve Kane, the elder sister of the duo, in her trademark emerald green one-piece with matching boots. Hands on her hips, the flame-haired Irish beauty surveys the sea of fans for several seconds before locking her eyes on the squared circle. As the daughter of the old sod starts her march down the aisle, the music abruptly burst into a techno beat with a yet faintly Irish tone, heralding the Goddess of Galway as she headed for battle. She takes care to give the occasional stately nod and to graze fingertips with the outstretched hands of some lucky fans.
Climbing up to the apron, Kane wordlessly gestures to the official to sit upon the middle rope, holding the top strand up with his shoulder, so she could enter the ring without having to sully herself touching the cables.
Then there comes a voice slicing through the cacophony of sound. “Introducing first, from Galway Ireland, she stands at five feet four inches tall and weighs one hundred and twenty five pounds, she is MAEVE KANE!”
Right arms raised, Kane takes a lap around the ring to bask in the cheers, then moves to her corner, where she settles back against the buckles to await the entry of her opponent.
With Moira’s sister looking perfectly comfortable in the surroundings that had made her a FAWN superstar, the opening chords of Authority Zero’s ‘One More Minute’ blast through the arena’s speakers…
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3aqi23-BBLA ).
The crowd roars with unbridled enthusiasm when a taut, golden-haired and bubbly beachgoer appears, their favorite ex-lifeguard bursting through the curtain with a saucy flourish and a beaming smile. Babcock’s Brigade may have seen its ranks depleted with Babe relegated to dark match purgatory, but a healthy majority chants the blonde’s name in unison, showing their adoration of the All-American Beach Babe.
BABE BABCOCK
The cheery grappler blows a few strands of flaxen hair out of her eyes and starts down the aisle, slapping hands and sharing a smile with everyone. Bouncing her way to the ring, the high energy blonde playfully interacting with her boisterous Beach Brigade.
The siren of surf and sand is decked out in a sporty, cherry-red two-piece with thin yellow-gold trim, the colors of her former lifeguarding days. She finishes the ensemble with red pads on knees and elbows, her feet would be bare for the match, though she wears her signature red flip flops on the journey to the ring, each toe sporting a coat of polish that matches her trunks, she flips them off when reaching the ring.
Touring the outside of the squared circle, the little lifesaver is drawn to a young man who holds a poster high with big red letters “You know it’s you, Babe!” She blows a kiss to the Styx aficionado and breaks into a short sprint, diving under the bottom rope, sliding nearly all the way to the center of the ring. Pushing up to vertical, Babcock raises a clenched fist to the fans, offering a couple pumps. She takes a couple circuits of the ring revving the fans up to her high energy level, looking wary when she passes by a smirking Kane.
The PA blares to life, the ring announcer making her formal introduction.
“And her opponent. Residing in San Diego, California by way of Ann Arbor Michigan, she stands five feet two inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and twenty pounds, she is the hottest thing on flip-flops…and is ready to save FAWN from drowning in a sea of red…BABE BABCOCK!”
A beaming Babe moves to her corner. Babcock brings a flattened palm to her brow, looking out over the packed arena before directing her gaze to Maeve, as if looking for a swimmer in trouble out on the ocean’s waves. The crowd roars in response, but soon that’s not the only sound making its way around the arena as the bell rings, bringing the match to order.
The faintest of smiles upon her lips would suggest…for those few who could interpret it…that the Irish redhead is somewhat amused by her opponent’s antics. After all, who doesn’t like good showwomanship?
But the blonde can read the signal, and she gives a small grin of her own. Underestimation is a key factor in her arsenal; if her opponents consider her more showoff than substance, they leave themselves more vulnerable. That fact is proven moments later, as the two combatants draw near enough for Babe to suddenly grab Maeve’s wrists, plant a foot to the Irishwoman’s tummy, and monkey flip her up and over. Indulging in a bit of showing off, Babcock returns to her feet with an impressive acrobatic jump, and whirls around…only to be met with a boot to her own breadbasket. For this isn’t the redhead’s first at the fleadh; she had deftly used the momentum of the flip to roll right back up to her feet. Spinning around, she instinctively lashed out with her foot, knowing with a veteran’s certainty that her target would be there.
Doubling over and clutching her belly, the gasping blonde next gives a yelp as she is thrown to the canvas via a hair mare, flat on her back as Kane lands a kneedrop square into the center of her opponent’s forehead. Babcock’s eyes cross as she gives a chirping groan. Again grabbing her adversary by her flaxen locks, Kane hauls her back up with, “Here now, lassie…we’ve only just begun, an’ already yer layin’ down on th’ task. Tsk-tsk, Oi say.” And with that she flings her into the nearest corner, where the turnbuckle rudely crunches into the Surf Siren’s spine, bringing a grimace to her lovely face. And that grimace turns into a full-fledged mask of anguish as the redhead charges in, spearing her shoulder into the blonde’s already aching abs.
The referee isn’t keen on excessive corner work this early in the match, and he moves in swiftly to make his count. By number four, Kane is pulling Babcock to center ring by the hair. Once there, the two combatants stand facing one another, with Babe the worse for wear as she pants for breath and her eyes blink back into focus. Maeve then steps in closer, intentionally stepping her boots down on the bare toes of her adversary. Babe yowls as her tootsies are smooshed, but she is pinned in place by the tactic. Kane takes advantage by throwing a blizzard of sharp slaps at the blonde, her hands cracking off of Babe’s head, face, shoulders and arms like firecrackers, or a swarm of angry wasps. Finally unable to take it any longer, Babcock drops to her butt…but of course that only adds to the pain in her feet as the leverage works painfully against her.
But luckily…such as it is…for her, the redhead opts to step back, releasing her victim. For the moment.
But apparently it’s only so the Irishwoman can leap into the air and get a little something extra on her next stomp. Thankfully for Babe and foot-lovers everywhere, the beachgoer splits her legs enough for Babcock’s toes to be safely away from Kane’s boots before they make another painful imprint.
Wrapping her arms around the midriff of the auburn-haired lass, Babe lifts Maeve off her shoe leather and races forward with her embraceable cargo SLAMMING Kane’s spine into the buckles and sandwiching her. Babcock spins the tag legend to face the corner then scoops her up from behind, Babe showing surprising strength to vault Maeve to a stance on the middle ropes. Quickly spinning so she’s back to back, Babcock reaches over her shoulders and sinks her claws into the underside of the redhead’s biceps.
The roar of the crowd grows as Babe lifts Maeve from her perch and carries her in a crucifix toward center stage. And they go absolutely apeshit when the blonde shrugs the wriggling Galway native up and over her shoulders, Babe sitting out to deliver Kane to Splash Mountain.
Splash Mountain:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=qqGV0v6LaGI
The ring rattles with the impact of Irish spine against mat, Kane’s upper body splaying with her legs still in Babcock’s possession. The Cali transplant folds Maeve into a matchbook with a shove against the back of her knees, the ref sliding down to count out the ONE…TWO…and Kane bangs her stems together, thumping Babe’s braincase in between.
As the beachgoer cradles her head, muttering in pain under her breath, Maeve has some shaking off of her own to manage. The Irish lass pushes up in stages, the grapplers reaching their feet simultaneously. When Maeve surges toward the American, she’s headed back down, going for a chop block at Babcock’s left knee. But the Siren of the Surf is too quick, hopping into a standing head scissors of the dipped redhead. As Babe clamps down, her thighs flexing around the Irishwoman’s temples, Maeve’s chin tucked tight to Babe’s crotch, the Riul shows her savvy.
Avoiding the panic that might come with the increasing pressure on her cranium, as Babe tightens her scissors, Kane scoops her arms under Babe’s backside and lifts her high, eventually curling the blonde into powerbomb position. But as Kane is about to drop the ordinance on Babe, she crunches her abs to get in range and balls her right fist, raining a series of crosses to the jaw of the veteran.
With Kane momentarily dazed, Babe sinks her talons into the auburn locks of her foe and throws her stems backward. As Babe’s legs stretch behind her and she falls to the canvas, Babcock draws Maeve with her, most noticeably the tag legend’s noggin, and she PLANTS Kane’s mug into the thinly-covered plywood.
The force of the impact sends Maeve’s upper half bouncing off the deck, the Irish beauty ending in a fog and on her haunches. There she wobbles in front of Babcock on all fours. Babe pushes to her feet and creeps around the bewildered Kane. From behind Babcock pounces, dipping and collecting an arm of the redhead’s, using it as a garrote against its owner. The blonde tugs a bug-eyed Maeve to her feet, staying glued to Kane’s back as she tightens the cobra clutch.
But Babe is far from done. She dips and flips, ripping Maeve off her moorings and DRIVING Kane’s skull into the canvas in destructive fashion with a suplex out of the clutch the result of which has the crowd chanting “BABE…BABE…BABE”and has Maeve spread out in a face down sprawl.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=sEkPQQ9OauA
Babcock seems to feel how flush the impact of the suplex is. She scrambles to the waylaid Galway native and shoves Maeve to her back. The blonde climbs aboard in a full body pin, the slender, sinewy Cali transplant grapevining her legs with Kane’s to make sure. Chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis, Babcock leans into her foe, waiting for the spasm and ready to keep it contained enough to get the…
ONE!
TWO!!
THRNOOO!!!
It’s only an inch or two, but the redhead manages to survive by the barest of margins. Babe pushes down again and gets…
ONE!
TWO!!
…but this time Kane rocks free with a full second to spare and dejectedly, the former lifeguard uncoils her snake-like stems then makes her way off the glistening, flagging Riul.
Showing every bit of the obstinacy for which the Kanes are known, Maeve tries her best to follow. The curvy lass makes stooped feet and Babe instantly climbs across her back in what looks like the beginnings of an abdominal stretch. But when Babcock drops to her back and swings an off-balance Kane to the canvas with her, Babe’s Brigade instantly knows Maeve will soon be going down the Whirlpool.
As the blonde barrel rolls her way around the ring, Maeve has a more dizzying journey, the redhead tumbling on a more vertical plane, head up-ass up-etc, the crowd roaring as Maeve is sent through a couple dozen revolutions until Babe ends her signature with Kane stacked on her shoulders in a tight cradle for…
ONE!
TWO!!
THRENOOO!!!
Whirlpool
www.youtube.com/watch?v=71ZaZic926g
A tremor runs through Maeve’s curvy frame and she tumbles one more half-turn. One that saves her.
Unable to hide her frustration, Babe stares up at the official who holds two fingers high. The blonde’s chin points to the floor. She nods.
“OK then,” is Babcock’s simple declarative response.
She gathers tousled auburn locks and the head they frame and tugs Maeve to her feet, Kane remaining doubled at the waist with Babe securing a front facelock she starts to rotate Kane’s braincase toward her Shorebreaker, the hangman’s facebuster that would finish the good luck that had kept Maeve in the match so far.
Shorebreaker
www.youtube.com/watch?v=TzsYr-fRZE4
But as Babe begins the spin, Maeve speeds the process beyond Babcock’s control and Kane slips free before the beach blonde can secure the Irishwoman’s head atop her right shoulder. Turning to reclaim the Riul, Babe is met with a toekick deep to her tanned tummy. The bent Babe grunts as her head is collected in a front facelock by the tag legend.
Leaping into the air, Maeve decides to skip the formality of building to a crescendo and straight out SPIKES Babe’s skull into the deck with her signature Ritual Sacrifice DDT, the sight drawing Kane’s many fans out of hiding while Babe’s Brigade is shaken, watching her collapse into jelly and slide to a stop in a demolished spreadeagle.
Ritual Sacrifice
www.youtube.com/watch?v=6lt4eNh7OjI
Quickly scampering atop the befuddled beach bunny, Kane goes for the pin...
ONE!
TWO!!
KICKOUT!!!
Denied the pinfall victory, the redhead rises up to her knees, lifts her arms...and then plunges them down like a concert pianist, her fingers clawing deep into Babcock's abdomen. The blonde gives a gasping yowl, squirming in torment as the Irish battler's fingers knead her tummy as if it were baker's yeast, her tautly tight abs crumbling beneath the crushing onslaught.
It is the Riuil lass herself who puts a halt to the torture. Pulling her hands free of her opponent's flesh...and having to shake them for a few seconds to get the numbness out...she pushes herself back up to her feed, and bends down to grab the still-mewling Babe by her sun-kissed locks. Hauling Babcock up, the redhead then drags her to the nearest corner, where she slams her face into the top turnbuckle, the padding falling just short of blunting the force of the steel clamp beneath.
Spun around and shoved back-first into the corner, the blonde yips as a chop slaps across her chest. Babe stumbles out of the corner, but she doesn't get far before her adversary grasps her arm and flings her into the ropes. Careening off of the cables, Babcock rushes back toward Kane, who lunges forward to deliver a clothesline smash.
However, the Surf Siren manages to arch herself backward, slipping under the blow. Unperturbed, Moira lets her unimpeded momentum swing her in a full arc, and as she spins around, she drives a forearm blow to the blonde's arched tummy, flattening her to the mat. Panting for breath, Babcock is once more hair-hauled back up to her shaky stems, only to be swiftly...and achingly...returned to the canvas with a vertical suplex DDT. The redhead tries for a float over cover...
ONE!
TWO!!
THRNOOOOOO!!!
The beach beauty is just narrowly able to throw her left arm up, raising her shoulder to break the pin. With a slight air of frustration, Kane rises to her feet again and once more brings her rival along unwillingly, dragging her stumbling to the corner by her matted mane. Climbing up the ropes and sitting atop the turnbuckle. Turning the blonde around and facing outward, Maeve reaches down to tightly wrap her arms around her opponent's head, and then with a grunt lifts her up, applying a Hangman Sleeper. Babcock's feet dangle haplessly as the blood flow to her brain is choked off. The redhead is only able to hold her foe up for a few moments before having to set her down, but seconds later she is able to lift her up again to once more apply the hold.
Babe's tootsie's touch the mat once more as Kane musters the power for a third lift. But, taking advantage of the situation, Babcock is able to reach up, grab her startled adversary, and flip her over. The Irishwoman is thrown to the mat with a heavy thud, her curvaceous body bouncing from the stunning impact.
The question now is, can the Californian take advantage of this opportunity before the redhead recovers and resumes her assault?
The answer is a quick and emphatic affirmative to the delight of the Beach Brigade. Maeve, having landed on her well-padded behind after the flip, receives a soccer kick to the chest from Babcock, sending the redhead rocking onto her back.
Babe snatches up Kane’s ankles and crosses Maeve’s stems into a figure four, knotting them around her own left leg. With the Irishwoman’s groin muscles stretched wide, Babe rises to her feet with the Legspread Indian Deathlock securely in place.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=rKqOmTQiyx0
Expertly knotted in a triple sheepshank, Babe has the busty Riul in her wheelhouse, laying out to increase the pressure in the already tensed muscles of Maeve’s inner thighs. As Babcock hits the deck, Kane howls in agony, tearing at her own auburn locks to spread the pain. But when given the opportunity by the official, she passes on surrender.
The increasingly desperate Kane reaches for the ropes above her head but they remain a full foot away. Determined to finish the fight, Babe pushes down on the inside of either knee, adding to the stretching of Maeve’s groin to the snapping point. Another offer is refused, Maeve’s eyes welling as she rotates her frame enough to finally slip her palm around the bottom strand. Kane shrieks for release and Babcock throws up her hands, trying to show the ref she’s willing. But working out the knotted limbs takes a full four, the redhead sighing loudly when her legs are freed.
Pulling her lower limbs in close while keeping an arm tight around the bottom cable, Maeve starts to slide under and out, but Babcock won’t have it, digging her nails into the scalp of the auburn-haired grappler and dragging her away from an escape.
“Did anyone say you were allowed out of the deep end?” the beach blonde asks rhetorically.
The answer comes as Babe tugs Maeve toward a corner by her locks, Kane yelping as she pries at the beachgoer’s wrist. But Babe only releases when she reaches her destination and tugs the wincing Maeve to her feet, Kane pointed to the buckles.
Scooping her foe up from behind, Babcock heaves Maeve to a seat on the top buckle and climbs up to the middle cables behind her. Securing Kane’s arms in a cross handed grip, the Cali transplant suplexes Maeve off her seat, sending Kane CRASHING to the deck on her head and shoulders with the California Splash.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=k2h9mZSU-7c&feature=channel_page
The redhead is left a shuddering heap a couple feet from the scrambling Babcock. The former lifeguard pushes the Irish beauty to her back and dives on top in a full body pin, Babe pressing Kane’s arms flat to the mat above her head, palms to wrists, leaving the tag great’s shoulders also very much flat to the canvas for…
ONE!
TWO!!
…and the Galway native scrapes a shoulder up to keep herself alive.
The beachgoer shows more than a hint of frustration, but doesn’t spend her energy barking at the man who holds up two fingers. Instead, the blonde heads for the nearest set of buckles and scrambles nimbly to the top, turning to face the slowly rising Kane.
Showing the effects of the Splash, Maeve wobbles through an extended u-turn, trying to find the location of her foe and, when the Irishwoman turns in Babcock’s direction, Babe leaps from her high dive. Vaulting toward the slowed Kane, Babe tucks tight while throwing her arms around the back of Maeve’s neck, her knees pressed tight to Kane’s considerable cleavage.
When Babe yanks the redhead off her moorings and lays out she impales Maeve with her signature Chest Compressor, the leaping inverted lungblower sending Kane shooting away violently, the crowd offering a groan of sympathy at the brutal impact, Maeve thrown several feet from the blast, ending face down and unmoving.
Babe remains on her back for a couple ticks, recovering from her part of the collision before rolling and pushing to all fours. The blonde scoops her arms under the side of the curvy Kane and shovels the deadweight tag legend to her back for the last seconds of the match…
ONE!
TWO!!
THRENOO!!!
Babcock’s face turns a shade closer to the red of her wrestling togs and she stares at the official as Kane rolls to her side beneath the befuddled blonde.
“Let me guess. A big fan of St. Patrick’s Day?”
The man shrugs. “Sorry Babe. She got it up.”
“Yeah. Well let’s see if she gets up from this.”
Babe wraps her arms around the noggin of the lass from County Galway and tugs the rubbery redhead to her feet, ready to turn a front facelock into something much more, namely her finishing Shorebreaker.
Shorebreaker
www.youtube.com/watch?v=TzsYr-fRZE4
Maeve's body flops onto the canvas from the impact, and lays their lifeless lifeless. Taking and exhaling a deep breath, Babe rolls her adversary over and throws herself across the redhead's body, not bothering to hook a leg. The referee drops to his knees and slaps...
ONE...
TWO...
THRENOOOOO!!!
At the last possible instant, Kane makes...well, less of a kickout, and more of a seemingly involuntary spasmodic jerk. But the motion is enough to lift a shoulder up off the mat by just an inch. "Are you kidding me?!?" the exasperated surf siren grunts as she sits up on her knees, blowing back some errant strands of flaxen hair from her face.
Pushing herself back up to her feet, Babcock opts not for another pinfall attempt, but rather for something more certain to put an end to this contest. That is is sure to make the sportcasters' highlight reel is a happy bonus for the Californian. She gives her opponent's belly a quick stomp, just to make certain she stay compliant and in place, and then Babe heads over to the nearest corner, where she deftly scales the turnbuckles. Perched precariously atop the ropes, she goes into a crouch, before her powerful gams propel her through the ether. She seems to soar almost in slow motion, a golden archangel on a quest for holy destruction.
Even if perfectly executed, the Frog Splash takes a toll on the one who is doing the executing. But that's nothing compared to the damage they suffer when their intended target is suddenly no longer at ground zero, leaving naught but the thinly-covered plywood floor of the ring in their wake. And so it goes as Maeve, acting on some primordial instinct, somehow manages to command her body to roll over just as Babcock passes the point of no return. The end result is the block beach girl doing a wicked belly flop upon the mat. The impact leaves her sufficiently blasted enough to lay there face-down, making pitiful gasps for breath to replenish the oxygen that was blown from her lungs.
As if in a dream, the still-dazed Irish lass rolls back over toward her rival, grasping her left wrist and jacking it up between the blonde's shoulder blades. Kane then bridges her own body, her "lassies" seemingly pointing to the sky, torquing up the pressure on Babe's wing. Babcock goes from a moan to a yowl, shutting her eyes tight against the pain and hoping she doesn't come out of it with a torn tendon or dislocated shoulder. Meantime, Maeve makes good use of these precious seconds, calling up what scant reserves of strength she had dwelling amidst the dregs.
Coherence at last coming to her eyes, the redhead suddenly releases her hold and swiftly scampers down to her opponent's feet, where she then applies an anklelock that keeps the mooney mermaid well in hand. Adrenalin starting to pulse, Kane then lifts Babcock's leg up high, before bringing it down hard, slamming her knee into the mat. Babe bays like a wounded beast, but if anyone could look deep into her watery eyes, they would see the fierce determination there to turn the tide, no matter what the cost.
But the Irish battler doesn't need to see that determination to know it's there. As one warrior to another, she knows full well that she can't let the American have even the slightest chance to strike back. And that meant the redhead had to stay on the offensive. She continued her punishment bluntly, giving sharp slaps to the back of her adversary's head, as well as to her shoulders and elbows, inflicting cracks of pain to those joints as Babcock mewls in anguish.
Climbing back up to her feet, Kane grabs her opponent by her matted mane and yanks her up as well. One Double Underhook DDT later, Babe is splayed upon her back, her left legs trembling involuntarily as her glazed eyes stare uncomprehendingly at the ceiling. The redhead drapes herself across the blonde's heaving torso for the match-ender…
ONE...
TWO...
THRNOOOOOO!
Now it's Maeve's turn to be incredulous. But she doesn't hesitate to press her advantage and put the beach blonde away once and for all.
The tag legend, determined to continue bolstering her burgeoning singles career, rolls the beach blonde to her chest, scissoring her foe’s left arm when she gets Babcock turned over and capturing the right with her fingers laced between those of the Cali transplant.
Kane deftly pulls back on that right arm. Slipping it behind her back after maneuvering Babcock to her left side and, with the arms of the siren of surf and sand trapped, Maeve bridges back from her kneel, threatening to rip Babe’s arms from their sockets with the signature Galway Graveyard.
Galway Graveyard @ 00:30
www.youtube.com/watch?v=3NzuuxL48go&feature=channel_page )
Babe howls in agony, Maeve about to win the match with no hands. The official slides down to the mat in front of the agonized Babcock, asking if she wants to give in and, to the blonde’s credit, she shakes off the offer, even as Kane bridges deeper sending a piercing shriek from Babe echoing through the arena. Close behind it comes another loud “NOOOOO!” and that convinces the curvy Celt to try another tack.
Unable to make Babcock give in, Maeve pushes to her feet, dragging an embattled Babe there with a tug of her golden locks. After one hairmare becomes two and two becomes three, Kane sends Babcock sprinting to a corner with an aptly named Irish Whip. Babe THUMPS backfirst into the buckles, throwing her leaden arms over the top cable to remain upright.
It proves ill-advised when the busty redhead follows her foe in, BURYING Babe under an avalanche of Irish goodness. Maeve stays pressed tight to a groaning, slack Babe, not letting her escape. Instead, the auburn-haired grappler scoops the beleaguered Babcock to a seat on the top buckle. Kane follows her cargo up to a stance on the middle ropes where the elder sister of the infamous tag team plucks Babe off her seat and lifts the squirming blonde across her chest.
A majority of the FAWNatics plead with Babe to break free before Maeve can toss her Gaelic Grenade but the weak wriggling of the flagging beachgoer can’t stop Maeve from setting it off, the Irishwoman backflipping off her perch with Babe in tow and SLAMMING Babcock nearly THROUGH the deck with her spectacular finisher.
Off the corner version of the following
www.youtube.com/watch?v=xL-WpqB-gBM
Both women end splayed, Babe face up and Kane face down, but it takes only a few seconds for Maeve to push to all fours while it appears Babe may be sleeping off the collision into tomorrow.
Still, when Kane reaches the sprawled, starfished blonde, she doesn’t go for the cover. Instead, Kane kneels next to Babcock and maneuvers the rag doll into a slumped seat. Maeve joins her in a sit down, though the curvy Kane does so in Babe’s lap.
Snaking her arms around the back of Babcock’s braincase, Kane pulls Babe’s features toward her cleavage, the glassy baby blues sparking to realization when Babcock’s lips and nose sink into the thinly-sheathed bosom of the Irish Riul.
As Babe sucks flesh instead of oxygen, Babcock’s limbs flail, her legs beneath Kane causing no problems, her arms clattering across Maeve’s back as the redhead seals her foe even tighter to her bosom, the wide and wild eyes of the beachgoer peeking out from over the malleable flesh.
As Kane fights through the last throes, Babe’s peepers cross then roll slowly white, Maeve’s front sleeper claiming another victim. The watchful referee plucks a wrist the moment Babe goes limp and lifts her arm one, two and three times, each ending with a lifeless fall. He immediately calls for the bell and for Maeve to release the KOd Babe from her breathtaking hold.
The smirking Kane obliges to a mixed reaction from the crowd, Babe’s Brigade feeling bitter about a likely unnecessary force feeding that sent their girl into dreamland.
Softly, Maeve peels her foe’s face away, the greasy mug of Babe emerging, and lowers the blonde to horizontal, Kane’s Celtic Curtain falling for the win. The ring announcer makes it official as the ref grabs a wrist and uses it to lift Kane to her feet and show off the conqueror.
“Your winner…by knockout…Maeve Kane!”
The curvy Celt adjusts her top, wiping a trail of Babe’s spittle off the cleft of her gear, and bows graciously to the fans that cheer on the Riul, the gathering momentum of Maeve claiming another casualty in the splayed Babe and more FAWNatics to her cause to help rise the singles ranks.
A single spotlight knifed through the black, at first illuminating nothing but the velvet curtain at the head of the ramp. But then the curtain pulled open, and out stepped one half of what was arguably one of FAWN’s greatest tag teams.
MAEVE KANE
That would be Maeve Kane, the elder sister of the duo, in her trademark emerald green one-piece with matching boots. Hands on her hips, the flame-haired Irish beauty surveys the sea of fans for several seconds before locking her eyes on the squared circle. As the daughter of the old sod starts her march down the aisle, the music abruptly burst into a techno beat with a yet faintly Irish tone, heralding the Goddess of Galway as she headed for battle. She takes care to give the occasional stately nod and to graze fingertips with the outstretched hands of some lucky fans.
Climbing up to the apron, Kane wordlessly gestures to the official to sit upon the middle rope, holding the top strand up with his shoulder, so she could enter the ring without having to sully herself touching the cables.
Then there comes a voice slicing through the cacophony of sound. “Introducing first, from Galway Ireland, she stands at five feet four inches tall and weighs one hundred and twenty five pounds, she is MAEVE KANE!”
Right arms raised, Kane takes a lap around the ring to bask in the cheers, then moves to her corner, where she settles back against the buckles to await the entry of her opponent.
With Moira’s sister looking perfectly comfortable in the surroundings that had made her a FAWN superstar, the opening chords of Authority Zero’s ‘One More Minute’ blast through the arena’s speakers…
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3aqi23-BBLA ).
The crowd roars with unbridled enthusiasm when a taut, golden-haired and bubbly beachgoer appears, their favorite ex-lifeguard bursting through the curtain with a saucy flourish and a beaming smile. Babcock’s Brigade may have seen its ranks depleted with Babe relegated to dark match purgatory, but a healthy majority chants the blonde’s name in unison, showing their adoration of the All-American Beach Babe.
BABE BABCOCK
The cheery grappler blows a few strands of flaxen hair out of her eyes and starts down the aisle, slapping hands and sharing a smile with everyone. Bouncing her way to the ring, the high energy blonde playfully interacting with her boisterous Beach Brigade.
The siren of surf and sand is decked out in a sporty, cherry-red two-piece with thin yellow-gold trim, the colors of her former lifeguarding days. She finishes the ensemble with red pads on knees and elbows, her feet would be bare for the match, though she wears her signature red flip flops on the journey to the ring, each toe sporting a coat of polish that matches her trunks, she flips them off when reaching the ring.
Touring the outside of the squared circle, the little lifesaver is drawn to a young man who holds a poster high with big red letters “You know it’s you, Babe!” She blows a kiss to the Styx aficionado and breaks into a short sprint, diving under the bottom rope, sliding nearly all the way to the center of the ring. Pushing up to vertical, Babcock raises a clenched fist to the fans, offering a couple pumps. She takes a couple circuits of the ring revving the fans up to her high energy level, looking wary when she passes by a smirking Kane.
The PA blares to life, the ring announcer making her formal introduction.
“And her opponent. Residing in San Diego, California by way of Ann Arbor Michigan, she stands five feet two inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and twenty pounds, she is the hottest thing on flip-flops…and is ready to save FAWN from drowning in a sea of red…BABE BABCOCK!”
A beaming Babe moves to her corner. Babcock brings a flattened palm to her brow, looking out over the packed arena before directing her gaze to Maeve, as if looking for a swimmer in trouble out on the ocean’s waves. The crowd roars in response, but soon that’s not the only sound making its way around the arena as the bell rings, bringing the match to order.
The faintest of smiles upon her lips would suggest…for those few who could interpret it…that the Irish redhead is somewhat amused by her opponent’s antics. After all, who doesn’t like good showwomanship?
But the blonde can read the signal, and she gives a small grin of her own. Underestimation is a key factor in her arsenal; if her opponents consider her more showoff than substance, they leave themselves more vulnerable. That fact is proven moments later, as the two combatants draw near enough for Babe to suddenly grab Maeve’s wrists, plant a foot to the Irishwoman’s tummy, and monkey flip her up and over. Indulging in a bit of showing off, Babcock returns to her feet with an impressive acrobatic jump, and whirls around…only to be met with a boot to her own breadbasket. For this isn’t the redhead’s first at the fleadh; she had deftly used the momentum of the flip to roll right back up to her feet. Spinning around, she instinctively lashed out with her foot, knowing with a veteran’s certainty that her target would be there.
Doubling over and clutching her belly, the gasping blonde next gives a yelp as she is thrown to the canvas via a hair mare, flat on her back as Kane lands a kneedrop square into the center of her opponent’s forehead. Babcock’s eyes cross as she gives a chirping groan. Again grabbing her adversary by her flaxen locks, Kane hauls her back up with, “Here now, lassie…we’ve only just begun, an’ already yer layin’ down on th’ task. Tsk-tsk, Oi say.” And with that she flings her into the nearest corner, where the turnbuckle rudely crunches into the Surf Siren’s spine, bringing a grimace to her lovely face. And that grimace turns into a full-fledged mask of anguish as the redhead charges in, spearing her shoulder into the blonde’s already aching abs.
The referee isn’t keen on excessive corner work this early in the match, and he moves in swiftly to make his count. By number four, Kane is pulling Babcock to center ring by the hair. Once there, the two combatants stand facing one another, with Babe the worse for wear as she pants for breath and her eyes blink back into focus. Maeve then steps in closer, intentionally stepping her boots down on the bare toes of her adversary. Babe yowls as her tootsies are smooshed, but she is pinned in place by the tactic. Kane takes advantage by throwing a blizzard of sharp slaps at the blonde, her hands cracking off of Babe’s head, face, shoulders and arms like firecrackers, or a swarm of angry wasps. Finally unable to take it any longer, Babcock drops to her butt…but of course that only adds to the pain in her feet as the leverage works painfully against her.
But luckily…such as it is…for her, the redhead opts to step back, releasing her victim. For the moment.
But apparently it’s only so the Irishwoman can leap into the air and get a little something extra on her next stomp. Thankfully for Babe and foot-lovers everywhere, the beachgoer splits her legs enough for Babcock’s toes to be safely away from Kane’s boots before they make another painful imprint.
Wrapping her arms around the midriff of the auburn-haired lass, Babe lifts Maeve off her shoe leather and races forward with her embraceable cargo SLAMMING Kane’s spine into the buckles and sandwiching her. Babcock spins the tag legend to face the corner then scoops her up from behind, Babe showing surprising strength to vault Maeve to a stance on the middle ropes. Quickly spinning so she’s back to back, Babcock reaches over her shoulders and sinks her claws into the underside of the redhead’s biceps.
The roar of the crowd grows as Babe lifts Maeve from her perch and carries her in a crucifix toward center stage. And they go absolutely apeshit when the blonde shrugs the wriggling Galway native up and over her shoulders, Babe sitting out to deliver Kane to Splash Mountain.
Splash Mountain:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=qqGV0v6LaGI
The ring rattles with the impact of Irish spine against mat, Kane’s upper body splaying with her legs still in Babcock’s possession. The Cali transplant folds Maeve into a matchbook with a shove against the back of her knees, the ref sliding down to count out the ONE…TWO…and Kane bangs her stems together, thumping Babe’s braincase in between.
As the beachgoer cradles her head, muttering in pain under her breath, Maeve has some shaking off of her own to manage. The Irish lass pushes up in stages, the grapplers reaching their feet simultaneously. When Maeve surges toward the American, she’s headed back down, going for a chop block at Babcock’s left knee. But the Siren of the Surf is too quick, hopping into a standing head scissors of the dipped redhead. As Babe clamps down, her thighs flexing around the Irishwoman’s temples, Maeve’s chin tucked tight to Babe’s crotch, the Riul shows her savvy.
Avoiding the panic that might come with the increasing pressure on her cranium, as Babe tightens her scissors, Kane scoops her arms under Babe’s backside and lifts her high, eventually curling the blonde into powerbomb position. But as Kane is about to drop the ordinance on Babe, she crunches her abs to get in range and balls her right fist, raining a series of crosses to the jaw of the veteran.
With Kane momentarily dazed, Babe sinks her talons into the auburn locks of her foe and throws her stems backward. As Babe’s legs stretch behind her and she falls to the canvas, Babcock draws Maeve with her, most noticeably the tag legend’s noggin, and she PLANTS Kane’s mug into the thinly-covered plywood.
The force of the impact sends Maeve’s upper half bouncing off the deck, the Irish beauty ending in a fog and on her haunches. There she wobbles in front of Babcock on all fours. Babe pushes to her feet and creeps around the bewildered Kane. From behind Babcock pounces, dipping and collecting an arm of the redhead’s, using it as a garrote against its owner. The blonde tugs a bug-eyed Maeve to her feet, staying glued to Kane’s back as she tightens the cobra clutch.
But Babe is far from done. She dips and flips, ripping Maeve off her moorings and DRIVING Kane’s skull into the canvas in destructive fashion with a suplex out of the clutch the result of which has the crowd chanting “BABE…BABE…BABE”and has Maeve spread out in a face down sprawl.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=sEkPQQ9OauA
Babcock seems to feel how flush the impact of the suplex is. She scrambles to the waylaid Galway native and shoves Maeve to her back. The blonde climbs aboard in a full body pin, the slender, sinewy Cali transplant grapevining her legs with Kane’s to make sure. Chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis, Babcock leans into her foe, waiting for the spasm and ready to keep it contained enough to get the…
ONE!
TWO!!
THRNOOO!!!
It’s only an inch or two, but the redhead manages to survive by the barest of margins. Babe pushes down again and gets…
ONE!
TWO!!
…but this time Kane rocks free with a full second to spare and dejectedly, the former lifeguard uncoils her snake-like stems then makes her way off the glistening, flagging Riul.
Showing every bit of the obstinacy for which the Kanes are known, Maeve tries her best to follow. The curvy lass makes stooped feet and Babe instantly climbs across her back in what looks like the beginnings of an abdominal stretch. But when Babcock drops to her back and swings an off-balance Kane to the canvas with her, Babe’s Brigade instantly knows Maeve will soon be going down the Whirlpool.
As the blonde barrel rolls her way around the ring, Maeve has a more dizzying journey, the redhead tumbling on a more vertical plane, head up-ass up-etc, the crowd roaring as Maeve is sent through a couple dozen revolutions until Babe ends her signature with Kane stacked on her shoulders in a tight cradle for…
ONE!
TWO!!
THRENOOO!!!
Whirlpool
www.youtube.com/watch?v=71ZaZic926g
A tremor runs through Maeve’s curvy frame and she tumbles one more half-turn. One that saves her.
Unable to hide her frustration, Babe stares up at the official who holds two fingers high. The blonde’s chin points to the floor. She nods.
“OK then,” is Babcock’s simple declarative response.
She gathers tousled auburn locks and the head they frame and tugs Maeve to her feet, Kane remaining doubled at the waist with Babe securing a front facelock she starts to rotate Kane’s braincase toward her Shorebreaker, the hangman’s facebuster that would finish the good luck that had kept Maeve in the match so far.
Shorebreaker
www.youtube.com/watch?v=TzsYr-fRZE4
But as Babe begins the spin, Maeve speeds the process beyond Babcock’s control and Kane slips free before the beach blonde can secure the Irishwoman’s head atop her right shoulder. Turning to reclaim the Riul, Babe is met with a toekick deep to her tanned tummy. The bent Babe grunts as her head is collected in a front facelock by the tag legend.
Leaping into the air, Maeve decides to skip the formality of building to a crescendo and straight out SPIKES Babe’s skull into the deck with her signature Ritual Sacrifice DDT, the sight drawing Kane’s many fans out of hiding while Babe’s Brigade is shaken, watching her collapse into jelly and slide to a stop in a demolished spreadeagle.
Ritual Sacrifice
www.youtube.com/watch?v=6lt4eNh7OjI
Quickly scampering atop the befuddled beach bunny, Kane goes for the pin...
ONE!
TWO!!
KICKOUT!!!
Denied the pinfall victory, the redhead rises up to her knees, lifts her arms...and then plunges them down like a concert pianist, her fingers clawing deep into Babcock's abdomen. The blonde gives a gasping yowl, squirming in torment as the Irish battler's fingers knead her tummy as if it were baker's yeast, her tautly tight abs crumbling beneath the crushing onslaught.
It is the Riuil lass herself who puts a halt to the torture. Pulling her hands free of her opponent's flesh...and having to shake them for a few seconds to get the numbness out...she pushes herself back up to her feed, and bends down to grab the still-mewling Babe by her sun-kissed locks. Hauling Babcock up, the redhead then drags her to the nearest corner, where she slams her face into the top turnbuckle, the padding falling just short of blunting the force of the steel clamp beneath.
Spun around and shoved back-first into the corner, the blonde yips as a chop slaps across her chest. Babe stumbles out of the corner, but she doesn't get far before her adversary grasps her arm and flings her into the ropes. Careening off of the cables, Babcock rushes back toward Kane, who lunges forward to deliver a clothesline smash.
However, the Surf Siren manages to arch herself backward, slipping under the blow. Unperturbed, Moira lets her unimpeded momentum swing her in a full arc, and as she spins around, she drives a forearm blow to the blonde's arched tummy, flattening her to the mat. Panting for breath, Babcock is once more hair-hauled back up to her shaky stems, only to be swiftly...and achingly...returned to the canvas with a vertical suplex DDT. The redhead tries for a float over cover...
ONE!
TWO!!
THRNOOOOOO!!!
The beach beauty is just narrowly able to throw her left arm up, raising her shoulder to break the pin. With a slight air of frustration, Kane rises to her feet again and once more brings her rival along unwillingly, dragging her stumbling to the corner by her matted mane. Climbing up the ropes and sitting atop the turnbuckle. Turning the blonde around and facing outward, Maeve reaches down to tightly wrap her arms around her opponent's head, and then with a grunt lifts her up, applying a Hangman Sleeper. Babcock's feet dangle haplessly as the blood flow to her brain is choked off. The redhead is only able to hold her foe up for a few moments before having to set her down, but seconds later she is able to lift her up again to once more apply the hold.
Babe's tootsie's touch the mat once more as Kane musters the power for a third lift. But, taking advantage of the situation, Babcock is able to reach up, grab her startled adversary, and flip her over. The Irishwoman is thrown to the mat with a heavy thud, her curvaceous body bouncing from the stunning impact.
The question now is, can the Californian take advantage of this opportunity before the redhead recovers and resumes her assault?
The answer is a quick and emphatic affirmative to the delight of the Beach Brigade. Maeve, having landed on her well-padded behind after the flip, receives a soccer kick to the chest from Babcock, sending the redhead rocking onto her back.
Babe snatches up Kane’s ankles and crosses Maeve’s stems into a figure four, knotting them around her own left leg. With the Irishwoman’s groin muscles stretched wide, Babe rises to her feet with the Legspread Indian Deathlock securely in place.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=rKqOmTQiyx0
Expertly knotted in a triple sheepshank, Babe has the busty Riul in her wheelhouse, laying out to increase the pressure in the already tensed muscles of Maeve’s inner thighs. As Babcock hits the deck, Kane howls in agony, tearing at her own auburn locks to spread the pain. But when given the opportunity by the official, she passes on surrender.
The increasingly desperate Kane reaches for the ropes above her head but they remain a full foot away. Determined to finish the fight, Babe pushes down on the inside of either knee, adding to the stretching of Maeve’s groin to the snapping point. Another offer is refused, Maeve’s eyes welling as she rotates her frame enough to finally slip her palm around the bottom strand. Kane shrieks for release and Babcock throws up her hands, trying to show the ref she’s willing. But working out the knotted limbs takes a full four, the redhead sighing loudly when her legs are freed.
Pulling her lower limbs in close while keeping an arm tight around the bottom cable, Maeve starts to slide under and out, but Babcock won’t have it, digging her nails into the scalp of the auburn-haired grappler and dragging her away from an escape.
“Did anyone say you were allowed out of the deep end?” the beach blonde asks rhetorically.
The answer comes as Babe tugs Maeve toward a corner by her locks, Kane yelping as she pries at the beachgoer’s wrist. But Babe only releases when she reaches her destination and tugs the wincing Maeve to her feet, Kane pointed to the buckles.
Scooping her foe up from behind, Babcock heaves Maeve to a seat on the top buckle and climbs up to the middle cables behind her. Securing Kane’s arms in a cross handed grip, the Cali transplant suplexes Maeve off her seat, sending Kane CRASHING to the deck on her head and shoulders with the California Splash.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=k2h9mZSU-7c&feature=channel_page
The redhead is left a shuddering heap a couple feet from the scrambling Babcock. The former lifeguard pushes the Irish beauty to her back and dives on top in a full body pin, Babe pressing Kane’s arms flat to the mat above her head, palms to wrists, leaving the tag great’s shoulders also very much flat to the canvas for…
ONE!
TWO!!
…and the Galway native scrapes a shoulder up to keep herself alive.
The beachgoer shows more than a hint of frustration, but doesn’t spend her energy barking at the man who holds up two fingers. Instead, the blonde heads for the nearest set of buckles and scrambles nimbly to the top, turning to face the slowly rising Kane.
Showing the effects of the Splash, Maeve wobbles through an extended u-turn, trying to find the location of her foe and, when the Irishwoman turns in Babcock’s direction, Babe leaps from her high dive. Vaulting toward the slowed Kane, Babe tucks tight while throwing her arms around the back of Maeve’s neck, her knees pressed tight to Kane’s considerable cleavage.
When Babe yanks the redhead off her moorings and lays out she impales Maeve with her signature Chest Compressor, the leaping inverted lungblower sending Kane shooting away violently, the crowd offering a groan of sympathy at the brutal impact, Maeve thrown several feet from the blast, ending face down and unmoving.
Babe remains on her back for a couple ticks, recovering from her part of the collision before rolling and pushing to all fours. The blonde scoops her arms under the side of the curvy Kane and shovels the deadweight tag legend to her back for the last seconds of the match…
ONE!
TWO!!
THRENOO!!!
Babcock’s face turns a shade closer to the red of her wrestling togs and she stares at the official as Kane rolls to her side beneath the befuddled blonde.
“Let me guess. A big fan of St. Patrick’s Day?”
The man shrugs. “Sorry Babe. She got it up.”
“Yeah. Well let’s see if she gets up from this.”
Babe wraps her arms around the noggin of the lass from County Galway and tugs the rubbery redhead to her feet, ready to turn a front facelock into something much more, namely her finishing Shorebreaker.
Shorebreaker
www.youtube.com/watch?v=TzsYr-fRZE4
Maeve's body flops onto the canvas from the impact, and lays their lifeless lifeless. Taking and exhaling a deep breath, Babe rolls her adversary over and throws herself across the redhead's body, not bothering to hook a leg. The referee drops to his knees and slaps...
ONE...
TWO...
THRENOOOOO!!!
At the last possible instant, Kane makes...well, less of a kickout, and more of a seemingly involuntary spasmodic jerk. But the motion is enough to lift a shoulder up off the mat by just an inch. "Are you kidding me?!?" the exasperated surf siren grunts as she sits up on her knees, blowing back some errant strands of flaxen hair from her face.
Pushing herself back up to her feet, Babcock opts not for another pinfall attempt, but rather for something more certain to put an end to this contest. That is is sure to make the sportcasters' highlight reel is a happy bonus for the Californian. She gives her opponent's belly a quick stomp, just to make certain she stay compliant and in place, and then Babe heads over to the nearest corner, where she deftly scales the turnbuckles. Perched precariously atop the ropes, she goes into a crouch, before her powerful gams propel her through the ether. She seems to soar almost in slow motion, a golden archangel on a quest for holy destruction.
Even if perfectly executed, the Frog Splash takes a toll on the one who is doing the executing. But that's nothing compared to the damage they suffer when their intended target is suddenly no longer at ground zero, leaving naught but the thinly-covered plywood floor of the ring in their wake. And so it goes as Maeve, acting on some primordial instinct, somehow manages to command her body to roll over just as Babcock passes the point of no return. The end result is the block beach girl doing a wicked belly flop upon the mat. The impact leaves her sufficiently blasted enough to lay there face-down, making pitiful gasps for breath to replenish the oxygen that was blown from her lungs.
As if in a dream, the still-dazed Irish lass rolls back over toward her rival, grasping her left wrist and jacking it up between the blonde's shoulder blades. Kane then bridges her own body, her "lassies" seemingly pointing to the sky, torquing up the pressure on Babe's wing. Babcock goes from a moan to a yowl, shutting her eyes tight against the pain and hoping she doesn't come out of it with a torn tendon or dislocated shoulder. Meantime, Maeve makes good use of these precious seconds, calling up what scant reserves of strength she had dwelling amidst the dregs.
Coherence at last coming to her eyes, the redhead suddenly releases her hold and swiftly scampers down to her opponent's feet, where she then applies an anklelock that keeps the mooney mermaid well in hand. Adrenalin starting to pulse, Kane then lifts Babcock's leg up high, before bringing it down hard, slamming her knee into the mat. Babe bays like a wounded beast, but if anyone could look deep into her watery eyes, they would see the fierce determination there to turn the tide, no matter what the cost.
But the Irish battler doesn't need to see that determination to know it's there. As one warrior to another, she knows full well that she can't let the American have even the slightest chance to strike back. And that meant the redhead had to stay on the offensive. She continued her punishment bluntly, giving sharp slaps to the back of her adversary's head, as well as to her shoulders and elbows, inflicting cracks of pain to those joints as Babcock mewls in anguish.
Climbing back up to her feet, Kane grabs her opponent by her matted mane and yanks her up as well. One Double Underhook DDT later, Babe is splayed upon her back, her left legs trembling involuntarily as her glazed eyes stare uncomprehendingly at the ceiling. The redhead drapes herself across the blonde's heaving torso for the match-ender…
ONE...
TWO...
THRNOOOOOO!
Now it's Maeve's turn to be incredulous. But she doesn't hesitate to press her advantage and put the beach blonde away once and for all.
The tag legend, determined to continue bolstering her burgeoning singles career, rolls the beach blonde to her chest, scissoring her foe’s left arm when she gets Babcock turned over and capturing the right with her fingers laced between those of the Cali transplant.
Kane deftly pulls back on that right arm. Slipping it behind her back after maneuvering Babcock to her left side and, with the arms of the siren of surf and sand trapped, Maeve bridges back from her kneel, threatening to rip Babe’s arms from their sockets with the signature Galway Graveyard.
Galway Graveyard @ 00:30
www.youtube.com/watch?v=3NzuuxL48go&feature=channel_page )
Babe howls in agony, Maeve about to win the match with no hands. The official slides down to the mat in front of the agonized Babcock, asking if she wants to give in and, to the blonde’s credit, she shakes off the offer, even as Kane bridges deeper sending a piercing shriek from Babe echoing through the arena. Close behind it comes another loud “NOOOOO!” and that convinces the curvy Celt to try another tack.
Unable to make Babcock give in, Maeve pushes to her feet, dragging an embattled Babe there with a tug of her golden locks. After one hairmare becomes two and two becomes three, Kane sends Babcock sprinting to a corner with an aptly named Irish Whip. Babe THUMPS backfirst into the buckles, throwing her leaden arms over the top cable to remain upright.
It proves ill-advised when the busty redhead follows her foe in, BURYING Babe under an avalanche of Irish goodness. Maeve stays pressed tight to a groaning, slack Babe, not letting her escape. Instead, the auburn-haired grappler scoops the beleaguered Babcock to a seat on the top buckle. Kane follows her cargo up to a stance on the middle ropes where the elder sister of the infamous tag team plucks Babe off her seat and lifts the squirming blonde across her chest.
A majority of the FAWNatics plead with Babe to break free before Maeve can toss her Gaelic Grenade but the weak wriggling of the flagging beachgoer can’t stop Maeve from setting it off, the Irishwoman backflipping off her perch with Babe in tow and SLAMMING Babcock nearly THROUGH the deck with her spectacular finisher.
Off the corner version of the following
www.youtube.com/watch?v=xL-WpqB-gBM
Both women end splayed, Babe face up and Kane face down, but it takes only a few seconds for Maeve to push to all fours while it appears Babe may be sleeping off the collision into tomorrow.
Still, when Kane reaches the sprawled, starfished blonde, she doesn’t go for the cover. Instead, Kane kneels next to Babcock and maneuvers the rag doll into a slumped seat. Maeve joins her in a sit down, though the curvy Kane does so in Babe’s lap.
Snaking her arms around the back of Babcock’s braincase, Kane pulls Babe’s features toward her cleavage, the glassy baby blues sparking to realization when Babcock’s lips and nose sink into the thinly-sheathed bosom of the Irish Riul.
As Babe sucks flesh instead of oxygen, Babcock’s limbs flail, her legs beneath Kane causing no problems, her arms clattering across Maeve’s back as the redhead seals her foe even tighter to her bosom, the wide and wild eyes of the beachgoer peeking out from over the malleable flesh.
As Kane fights through the last throes, Babe’s peepers cross then roll slowly white, Maeve’s front sleeper claiming another victim. The watchful referee plucks a wrist the moment Babe goes limp and lifts her arm one, two and three times, each ending with a lifeless fall. He immediately calls for the bell and for Maeve to release the KOd Babe from her breathtaking hold.
The smirking Kane obliges to a mixed reaction from the crowd, Babe’s Brigade feeling bitter about a likely unnecessary force feeding that sent their girl into dreamland.
Softly, Maeve peels her foe’s face away, the greasy mug of Babe emerging, and lowers the blonde to horizontal, Kane’s Celtic Curtain falling for the win. The ring announcer makes it official as the ref grabs a wrist and uses it to lift Kane to her feet and show off the conqueror.
“Your winner…by knockout…Maeve Kane!”
The curvy Celt adjusts her top, wiping a trail of Babe’s spittle off the cleft of her gear, and bows graciously to the fans that cheer on the Riul, the gathering momentum of Maeve claiming another casualty in the splayed Babe and more FAWNatics to her cause to help rise the singles ranks.