Post by alyadmirer on Nov 26, 2015 3:09:57 GMT
The last six months or so had been... unforeseen, to say the least.
But somehow, in that time, Cynthia Mitchell--the very same Cynthia Mitchell who had turned on the FAWNatics and on Cosette LeBlanc, back when the French beauty was on the side of the angels, the same Cynthia Mitchell who had reveled in making Kylie Sanders her personal bytch, back when KYLIE was on the side of the angels--had found her way back into the good graces of the Orlando faithful. And frankly, she hadn’t consciously done much to make that happen. It had simply been a case of going into battles with the right opponents, women that that FAWNatics seemingly hated MORE...
... and tonight, the Cynful One was due to face arguably the most hated woman in FAWN history.
Cynthia might not have sought the renewed embrace of the audience, but she had to admit, not getting booed out of the building every single night was a refreshing change. And speaking of change, even if Mitchell herself didn’t feel she’d undergone much in the way of one, Mania still felt like the beginning of a new chapter, one that would need to be recognized in some way...
“Ladies and gentlemen," the ring announcer began, “this is YOUR main event for the evening. It is a Park Avenue Street Fight scheduled for one fall, with a 30 minute time limit. There will be NO COUNTOUTS and NO DISQUALIFICATIONS... and is for the FAWN WORLD Championship! Introducing first, the challenger... Hailing from Charlotte, North Carolina… She stands five feet seven inches tall and weighs in tonight at..." His tone shifted, suggesting that the next few words were ones that he has been instructed to say, rather than those he would elect to employ himself. "one hundred and twenty sinfully delicious pounds...”
And, for once, the crowd ROARED in delight at that pronouncement.
“She is the Cynful One, CYYYNNNTTTHHHIIIAAA MIIITTTCCCHHHEEELLLLLL!"
The cheers from the FAWNatics continued, even as the speakers began to play an unfamiliar fanfare, one which soon transitioned into the pulsing rhythm of Demi Lovato’s “Confident”. All eyes in the FAWN arena shift to the stage and within heartbeats, Cynthia Mitchell, former Tag, Lightweight, World champion and all round ice cold bytch goddess brushes through the curtains.
”CONFIDENT”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=cwLRQn61oUY
CYNTHIA MITCHELL:
And the cheers of the audience grow louder still when she proves not to be alone. Flanked on either side of the challenger are her older and younger sisters, Sophie and Skylar.
SOPHIE MITCHELL:
SKYLAR MITCHELL:
Mitchell doesn’t linger more than a few seconds before heading down to the ring with a sassy ‘avert your gaze, mortals!’ swish in her step--again, formerly scorned demeanor meeting with VOCIFEROUS approval from the FAWNatics.
For tonight’s contest, it appears that Cynthia is clad in her now standard ‘one-piece’--said outfit a deep purple number with a plunging V neckline that goes all the way to her navel and a back that might qualify as a thong if you were feeling generous. However, there remains an ever so tiny sense of mystery about the Cyn-Ful One’s sartorial choices, thanks to the T-shirt that extends down to just above where her thighs curved into her glutes. That shirt is white, with a light red circle in the middle faintly emblazoned with the Stars and Bars of her southern heritage. Inside the circle are two crossed roses, their buds also sporting the rebel emblem, albeit in a much more prominent manner.
And written above all this is the script: “SOUTHERN GIRL: WHO NEEDS BIG BOOBS WHEN YOU GOT A BUTT LIKE MINE?”
CYNTHIA’S T-SHIRT:
i676.photobucket.com/albums/vv123/FAWN_Fed/297460_256918641077409_1505090834_n.jpg
While the Cynful One had long been known to shun contact with the subhumanoids, that had never convinced the FAWNatics to stop reaching out their hands along the railing. Cynthia might not have morphed into a new Riley Shayne, desperate not to leave ANY palm untouched, but Mitchell still slaps a few hands on her way down to the ring, until she reaches the end of the aisle. At which point, Cynthia ascends the steel steps and waits on the apron until the referee comes over to hold the ropes open to allow her proper passage.
Once the official takes a seat on the middle rope, Mitchell slips a leg into the ring, then pulls her torso through the strands in an agonizingly slow movement—well, agonizing for those straight males and not-so-straight females in the audience with a heart condition, at least. With Mitchell finally on the other side of the ropes, the FAWNatics grow even more appreciative when Mitchell peels the tee up her torso, revealing the rest of her usual battle togs for the first time tonight. Cynthia holds the garment above the mat for a moment...
... and then she slings the tee into a sea of hands.
Having knocked off a fellow FAWN legend at Mania, the media pressed Lyle VanBuren’s baby girl to top herself and the woman now standing in the ring, at the very least, met Armstrong’s incredible standard.
Behind the curtain, the THREE-time World Champion sidles confidently between her two remaining Associates. Stripping Kylie of the belt had been epic; surviving Ivy with an eventually humiliating win over the Bama Slamma had been awesome; but could tonight’s dangerous and seemingly reformed foe be a proverbial ‘trap game’.
None of the VB&A seem particularly concerned with the woman in the ring or her her two siblings outside. And when the sounds of ‘How You Like Me Now' from Heavy, the drumbeating clarion call of FAWN’s infamous socialite begin, the threesome’s march confidently into the arena bowl.
The crowd rises to its feet, not in support of the icon and champion, but to jeer Baby at levels no one else could elicit, particularly with the slender socialite in possession of FAWN’s biggest prize.
”HOW YOU LIKE ME NOW?”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=sVzvRsl4rEM
PORTIA VANBUREN:
ALEXIS SUGUITAN:
RACHEL RAKER:
The assembled let Lyle VanBuren’s only child have it with both barrels. The head of VB&A floats like a feather over the hatred, the enormous gold plate on the belt around her waist lifting her rather than weighing her down. Next to her, Alexis leads a vain effort to gain the titleholder some support. She relents and instead points at belt, letting everyone know the hardware is back where it belongs.
Beaming, Baby starts down the aisle, slapping her faceplate and making sure everyone knows the loss of a quarter of her father’s fortune to Gretchen Vaughn is an aggravating but increasingly distant memory. She was and now IS the best.
Portia unsnaps the leather and lifts the belt overhead; the familiar, eardrum-injuring cascade of catcalls echoing through the confines at the volume of a jet engine as she strides down the aisle, Rachel and Alexis on either side.
The sinewy blonde reaches the ring, smiling and offering a queenly wave to all the Mitchell girls. She offers a familiar toss of her flaxen mane from one side to the other as she makes her way up the ring steps.
VanBuren is back to classic Portia as far as gear goes, a daringly scant black bikini with a green, sparkling dollar sign on her infamous and flawless derriere. Baby’s uva-nourished, ivory skin glows next to the black swatches, her attire completed with green pads and black boots. The footwear contains a green outline of the state of New Jersey, an iconic red circle with a slash superimposed atop the Garden State.
The blonde patrician slides into the ring only after Suguitan widens the ropes for her, Portia’s protégé, talking up her boss loudly while assisting her entrance. Alexis stuns in her skin-tight, red mini and pumps, the copper skin of her arms and legs resplendent. Rachel takes notes in her legal pad from the floor, Raker in a wardrobe far from casual business, instead glorious in a tight pinstripe suit and skirt, her red hair up in a messy bun, black nerdy glasses precariously resting on the tip of her adorable nose.
The ring announcer breaks in as Lyle’s baby girl hops in her corner.
“And her opponent… accompanied to the ring by her partners in VanBuren & Associates, Alexis Suguitan and Rachel Raker…from Manhattan and Easthampton, New York and Monaco City, Monaco, standing five feet seven inches tall and weighing in at 120 pounds, she is the THREE, THREE, THREE TIME FAWN World Champion… Portia Ophelia VanBuren IV!”
Portia drops the belt from her shoulder to give Mitchell, make that Mitchells, a better view.
“You picked the wrong time to go soft Cynthetic.”
Portia arrogantly turns to her curvy back-up, handing the belt and the stick over to Alexis, though the ref instantly demands Suguitan present the title to him. The man moves to the center and holds the belt high, the crowd growing more excited by the second, particularly when Cynthia is allowed to inspect before the zebra hands the prize over to a FAWN flunky for safe keeping.
The Cynful One offers a wry smile... but then, Mitchell's right hand slices through the air, her palm BLASTING into Portia's cheek with an echoing slap. An exuberant Skylar immediately displays her approval by slapping the apron with both hands. For her part, Sophie's arms remain folded across her chest, but the tall blonde's smirk indicates her endorsement as well. Inside the ring, Cynthia practically purrs as she asks, "Tell me, bytch, just how 'soft' did THAT feel?"
VanBuren massages her jaw as she draws her face back to the challenger's. "Like a flea bite, sweetheart. Has it really been since the first month of FAWN's existence since we met?" Not waiting for an answer or the bell, Baby breaks her conversational tone to lift a toe kick toward Mitchell's tummy, trying to catch her foe napping and, if so, tug the lowered head of the brunette into a side headlock.
But there's a problem inherent in trying to get the drop on a woman who, up until a few months ago, was perfectly willing to take every single shortcut the slender socialite might think up. Proving to be wide awake, Cynthia's hands intercept Portia's boot, catching her by the ankle. Trying not to give VanBuren even a second to comprehend how empty she had come up, the Cynful One tosses away that gam, sending Baby spinning away from her. Once the champion's back is to her--and Baby finds herself facing Alexis--Mitchell reaches around her waist, looking to pull Portia into an embrace which would lead to a lift--and then to Fortune's Favorite's tush being SLAMMED down on Cynthia knee via an atomic drop.
The blonde lets out a soft 'guhh' as Mitchell's arms encircle her midriff tightly. The second generation superstar vaults a wriggling Baby high into the air in front of her. It's a farther trip down as Cynthia drops to genuflect on the canvas and the former 'Cynful One' splits Portia's wickets in brutal fashion. VanBuren hops HIGH into the air from the 50-megaton explosion in her crotch, her knees knocking before she comes down, hands buried between her thighs. On the outside, Alexis winces in sympathy pain from the attack to Portia's personal space.
As VanBuren starts to drag herself toward the ropes, her thighs notably clenched tight, Cynthia casts a quick glance at the referee. "Wanna make this official?" she asks. Nodding, the zebra waves toward the timekeeper's table, and the bell sounds. The match now properly underway, the Cynful One saunters toward her retreating prey, Baby looking to make it to her compatriots on the outside. With Portia's head on the apron but her shoulders still inside the ring, Mitchell grabs hold of the champion's ankles, pulling VanBuren's stems slightly apart as she rolls Portia to her back. Cynthia then starts to stuff the slender socialite's boots under her arms, planning to fall back--and catapult VanBuren's throat into the underside of the bottom rope.
VanBuren understands exactly what Mitchell has in mind when her throat is lined up with the bottom cable and she shakes her head, screaming at the official. "In the ropes, I'm in thUHHHACKKKGHH." VanBuren's complaint is cut off when Cynthia lays out and sends the World Champ rocketing up, if only for a split second. The rope does it's job, stopping Portia cold, the back of her head then thumping into the deck on the recoil. Baby spasms, grasping at her throat. She gags violently as she rolls all the way back in, not wanting a repeat performance, and manages to push to a seated position the New Yorker trying to regain her breath.
"C'mon, ref," Alexis snarls, slapping the apron in frustration. The official doesn't pay her outburst a second thought, but across the ring, Skye playfully sticks her tongue out at the penthouse terror. "Crying like a li'l bytch ALREADY, Suguitan?" Sophie asks, just for good measure. Meanwhile, in the ring, Cynthia snatches a handful of Portia's locks and tugs Fortune's Favorite up to rubbery legs. "Yes, Portia," Mitchell hisses, dragging VanBuren toward the nearest corner, "it HAS been a good 12 years since you and I last tangled. Feels like just yesterday you were treating me like a welcome mat." Her fingers tightening around Baby's tresses, Mitchell starts to shove Portia's face toward the top turnbuckle. "Time for me to return the favor..."
VanBuren's forehead SLAMS into the scant padding of the top buckle, her noggin whiplashing violently away from the impact only to have Cynthia send it in again and again. The crowd quickly picks up the count as the THUMPING turnbuckle smashes get to EIGHT...NINE...TEN! Finally, Cynthia's had enough, using Baby's locks to toss her toward the middle. VanBuren stagger to center stage, green eyes glassy. She slowly melts to her knees then timbers to her face, her arms wide and motionless, legs below the knees pointed upward, as if in a horizontal kneel. On the outside, Alexis invites Sophie over, but the elder Mitchell declines for now while Rachel continues to furiously work at her pad and clipboard.
Cynthia saunters around the prostrate Portia, egging the crowd to cheer a little louder with a wave of her hand--and earning even more cheers with the swish in her hips along the way. The former Tag, Lightweight and World champ comes to a halt in front of VanBuren's noggin, then drops to a seat in front of the reigning World champ. It couldn't ALL be about brawling and catfighting, even in a so-called streetfight, so Cyn scoots forward and begins to snake her legs around the neck of Fortune's Favorite. Of course, that was only stage one. If the Cynful One could get to stage two of this hold, and Portia refused to surrender her title? Well, that would be a Mortal Cyn...
MORTAL CYN:
The brunette draws Portia's wobbly head into her lap and encircles Baby's head with her lithe, ivory legs. Although they might not have the fame of her former tag partner's, when they clamp down around VanBuren's head, the two Associates on the outside get noticeably antsy. Portia too groans back to life, her pale face turning rosier by the second. And when Mitchell reaches forward to capture the champ's left leg, bending it into a Crab-like curve, Cynthia seems more than ready to prove Portia's third reign very mortal. Mitchell looks with sublime satisfaction down at a concerned Portia's features. She wrenches on the leg. "Quit!" And when VanBuren hesitates, she adds, "Now!" But Portia coughs out an unconvincing 'no', as a growingly frantic Alexis climbs to the apron.
Naturally, this being a street fight, there was nothing to keep Alexis Suguitan on the apron--certainly not the threat of disqualification. And, sure enough, the Filipino beauty slips through the ropes. But what's good for the goose... there was nothing to hold the eldest and youngest Mitchell sisters on the floor, either, and both Sophie and Skylar dive under the bottom rope. Neither Tar Heel can get to her feet quick enough to prevent Suguitan from landing a kick to Cynthia's jaw that breaks the challenger's grip on Portia's ankle and loosens her legs, but it's only a moment after that before Sophie's shoulder plows into Alexis' midsection with a spear. Shaking out a couple of cobwebs, the Cynful One climbs to her feet before gathering up a handful of VanBuren's tresses. And as Sophie and Alexis roll toward the ropes--with Skye following in pursuit--the middle Mitchell pushes Portia's head between her thighs. Cynthia then reaches for the champion's arms--not to set up the Drop Out, but to lock them behind Baby's back in a double hammerlock, after which she intends to muscle Fortune's Favorite aloft for a piledriver.
DOUBLE HAMMERLOCK PILEDRIVER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=w9K20P6ayCw
And with Portia having been Cynthesized for the last few minutes, Baby can do little to stop from having her arms trapped by the Carolina Brat. Mitchell is ready to launch VanBuren into the piledriver position when a miscalculation by Skye comes back to bite her sister. For as two Mitchells take off for Alexis, VB&A's legal counsel enters the ring from the opposite side with clipboard at the ready, aiming the weapon at the crown of Cynthia's head, preparing a two-handed blow with her weapon of choice to prevent the the debilitating attack.
Skylar learns of her mistake a couple of seconds after the FAWNatics, for while they watched as Raker snuck up on the challenger, the Li'lest Mitchell is alerted by the wicked 'CRAAAAAAAK!' of clipboard meeting cranium. Cynthia's arms fall slack as her legs buckle, allowing Portia to drop back to her feet and slip out of the standing headscissors as the Cynful One stumbles away. The middle Mitchell's gams quake and give way after a step, sending Cynthia dropping to her knees and falling into the ropes. But as that treacherous clipboard rebounds away from her sister's noggin, Skylar turns and charges toward Rachel, leaping into a dropkick aimed at that clipboard--which, ideally, would send it flying into RAKER'S face...
Skye's aim is true if belated. Her dropkick connects first with Rachel's ubiquitous clipboard and then Raker's face with the Fixer's weapon of choice in between. The 'THUMP' sends the lawyer flying up and over the top rope, Rachel plummeting to the apron before banging to the floor where she ends in a crumpled, pinstriped heap. Skye kips to her feet, and when Raker makes an effort to rise, she turns and heads to the opposite ropes. Sprinting into the cables, she rebounds and races toward an acrobatic suicide dive. Or what it surely would have been if a risen Portia had not clotheslined the rookie through a somersaulting backflip of an impact, Skylar meeting FAWN's biggest bad for the first time, the hard way. Drawing a dazed Skye off the deck with one handful of hair, Portia does the same with Cynthia, both sisters yelping from nasty tugs of their locks. A growly VanBuren draws back the heads of both brunettes. "I know there not one mind in there between the two of you, but how about a meeting anyway."
Say what you will about VB&A, but they clearly possess a commitment to family as Portia arranges an emphatic reunion. Forehead smashes into forehead with a loud 'THOOONK!', while Sophie and Alexis continue to roll back and forth on the concrete floor. Just as you would expect in any family, there had been arguments over just which sister had the hardest head. At least between the younger members of the clan, we get an answer as Skye wheels away from the impact and, when Portia releases her mane, pitches to the canvas, winding up face down and moaning. Cynthia, meanwhile, drops to her knees again in front of Fortune's Favorite, VanBuren continuing to maintain a grip on her locks. The middle Mitchell still manages to sling a sloppy punch toward Baby's belly, however...
Baby grunts as the fist SMECKS home, but she shakes it off without too much effort. A recovering and furious Portia tugs Cynthia up to stooped feet and slides to a position beside her foe. She captures an arm of Mitchell's and tugs it between the challenger's legs, creating a pumphandle. Reaching forward, Baby sweeps her body under Cynthia's far arm and has Mitchell ready for launch into a gutbuster that could change the makeup of this title tilt.
PUMPHANDLE GUTBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=xbFqgI6XCz4
Any thought of the Cynful One managing an escape from this predicament is quickly vanquished when Portia takes a page out of her opponent's (underhanded) playbook, by giving Cynthia's wrist a sharp and sudden tug--which sends the middle Mitchell's forearm smashing into her own crotch! Cynthia barely has time to squeal out a high-pitched protest before Baby hoist her up and swings her over. Dropping to one knee, VanBuren brings the challenger crashing down, belly first, across her posted knee. This time, Cynthia IS able to vocalize a loud and breathy "GYYYUUUUUNNNNGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!" of a gasp as her torso momentarily rises from the impact. Only then, her upper body slumps forward, the impaled Cynful One left folded across Portia's thigh as she coughs and sputters for air.
Portia laces her fingers and buries them into the base of Mitchell's spine, sending her back arching in response. She disdainfully shoves her challenger off bended knee, Mitchell rolling to her back. On the outside, Sophie and Alexis have finally separated though Suguitan has the beginnings of a shiner for her trouble as she heads back to the VB&A corner. Raker, is up to her feet, searching for her clipboard only to see it in Skylar's possession, the youngest Mitchell waving aggravatingly from Cynthia's corner. "You best give that back to me, juvenile delinquent," Rachel demands.
In the ring, Baby uses her knee this time to press down on a domineering pin, placing the bony joint in the cleft of Cynthia's bosom. "Count!" she demands.
Skylar takes a step away from the ringpost... but then stops herself. More to the point, her eyes twinkle at Rachel as she reaches the clipboard around behind her back, and starts to push it down inside the waistband of her bottoms--paper side toward skin, of course. The FAWNatics focused on Skylar rather than the action in the ring respond with a laugh, but there's considerably less reason for mirth within the ropes as the referee slaps off the...
ONE...
TWO...
THR...
'SMEEEEECCK!'
Cynthia's right arm flies into the air, but instead of a balled fist on the end as is normally the case, the middle Mitchell's open palm meets the cheek of Fortune's Favorite, turning Portia's head to the side as the Cynful One's arm falls across her chest, her shoulder raised off the canvas.
A startled VanBuren looks down at Mitchell. "Oh no you didn't." Outraged, Baby stands and drives several boots into Cynthia's belly and chest then drags her up and off the canvas. The blonde Irish whips Mitchell toward the corner and when Cynthia turns and crashes into the buckles back first, the champ follows behind. Portia races to her target, planning to squash the Carolina Cutie beneath then get about showing how bad a Bare Ass Market could be in these times of economic uncertainty.
Looking at Fortune's Favorite, one hundred and twenty pounds sounds like it might be rounding up. But a legitimate figure or not, with a full head of steam, it still packs quite an impact when Portia's avalanche BLASTS into the Cynful One. If the middle Mitchell's arms hadn't been slopped over the top rope, she would have wound up flat on her ass. Instead, she simply sags against the buckles as VanBuren turns away and climbs her way onto the middle rope. Smirking, Portia slips her fingers inside her waistband, pulling her dollar sign emblazoned briefs down her hips. Though gutted, Cynthia still manages to rasp out, "Don't... uhhh... uhhhhhheeevveen thiiiinnnnmmmMMMMMMMMPPPPPPHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!"
Baby does considerably more than think about it, she thrusts her hips backward, griiiiiiinding her cheeks into the mug of the Cynful One. After a few moments, the referee raises his hand... but then stops, remembering the lack of disqualifications in this contest. That allows Portia to keep the Bare Ass Market in place for considerably longer than in a standard match. By the time she eventually DOES step down from the middle rope, a greasy faced Mitchell plops to a seat, her features almost as purple as her gear as her chest HEAVES with each intake of oxygen.
Only then does Lyle's indomitable baby girl hop down from her perch, flawless ass with nary a jiggle as her boots land on the canvas. Causing great dismay, Baby pulls her bottoms back into place and bows to the jeering FAWNatics. But she's only stationary for a moment, jogging back to the corner opposite Cynthia, tagging the top buckle and again sprinting toward her foe. VanBuren leaps, legs extended when she closes in, ready to deliver a Polo Pony Busting of the pretender to her throne. The activity in the ring having taken the cheekiness away from a worried Skylar, the youngster tosses Raker's clipboard into the front rows, her booty sweat being her signature on Rachel's match notes. Meanwhile, a wincing Alexis rubs at the mouse on her left eye, snarling at Sophie, no doubt planning some catty revenge.
Cynthia remains consumed with refilling her lungs, barely managing to summon the strength necessary to pull herself up to a slightly more steady seated position... before the middle Mitchell once again becomes intimately acquainted with VanBuren's undercarriage. Portia's tush drops down HARD onto the Cynful One's sternum, one leg slipping over each of Mitchell's shoulders as Baby grabs hold of the top rope. Showing a deceptive amount of upper body strength, VanBuren pulls herself into the air, only to viciously THRUST her hips and pelvis forward and down... again and again... harder and harder... DRIVING her backside into Cynthia's upper chest and her crotch into the Cynful One's revolted face. And, just as with the Bare Ass Market, tonight there would be no reprieve from the referee, the only limits on the humiliating treatment by Fortune's Favorite being Portia's own reserves of strength, and of wickedness.
Satisfied with her ride, Baby dismounts. But quickly seems to realize she's forgotten something. She turns and walks to her corner while Cynthia spits out the remaining taste of VanBuren Tar-Tar. The lead Associate leans over the ropes and speaks to her junior member. Alexis nods and reaches under the apron, pulling out...the FAWNatics hardly believe their eyes.
PRECIOUS!
Portia's infamous polo mallet is handed to Fortune's Favorite. The official starts to grab for Baby's friend but Portia tut-tuts him away. "Park Avenue Streetfight, Jersey!"
The man nods and Baby takes full possession, advancing on the rising Cynthia, brandishing the head of the mallet, she charges with both hands on its neck, planning to use it as a battering ram to the Carolina girl's chin.
Instead, Cynthia's hands flash upward, placing themselves between Precious and her jaw, saving herself from an almost certain knockout shot. Portia takes a step back, but is otherwise undeterred, Fortune's Favorite loading up for another go... but instead, the middle Mitchell manage to send a boot into the pit of VanBuren's stomach, forcing a gasp out of the champ--AND, more importantly, forcing Portia to lose her grip on Precious. As the mallet falls to the canvas, Cynthia steps in, firing a forearm to the chest that connects hard enough to turn Baby away, sending VanBuren staggering a few strides. Cynthia closes the space between them as quickly as she can, leaping toward Portia, reaching out an arm to try to secure a guillotine choke and, hopefully, wear Baby down a little closer to Cynthia's own current level of stamina.
TILT-A-WHIRL GUILLOTINE CHOKE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=XL1HnBemIbM
Trying to regain her bearings after the rattling contact, Portia wobbles in a 180 back toward her foe and Mitchell times her leap perfectly. The brunette wraps her legs around VanBuren's midsection while her left arm quickly wraps around the champ's neck. VanBuren, supporting Cynthia's weight in addition to having her windpipe severely constricted, looks in immediate distress. Doubled over, it doesn't take long for Baby's face to turn pink, then rosy, her legs growing increasingly unsteady as she tries to push Cynthia off. But Mitchell seems like a pit bull on a t-bone, looking to become a rare multi-time World Champion herself. And when Portia drops to one knee, an important step in that direction seems reached.
And from one knee, Baby sinks to two, her upper body pitching forward as Cynthia's legs and arm FLEEEEEEEEEEEEX with all their might. Unfortunately for the Cynful One, VanBuren's weight growing increasingly dead and pressing down on her starts to push Mitchell's back flat against the mat.
ONE...
TWO...
THNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!
Cynthia releases both the scissors and the choke, sending VanBuren flopping to her back with a shove. Rolling away from the champion, Cynthia climbs to her feet, and shakes a few lingering cobwebs away as she sinks into a crouch. Fortune's Favorite, meanwhile, reaches for the ropes and starts to pull herself up to wobbly legs. The middle Mitchell's eyes momentarily meet her baby sister's, before Cynthia begins to stomp the canvas, loading up her boot for a superkick. The Cynful One's version might not be the match-ender that Skylar's had proven to be so far, but it should still be good enough to knock Portia into next week--or, at the very least, into the near corner.
But luck seems to be on VanBuren's side as instead of turning to eat shoe leather at incredible speed, she starts to slip through the ropes for a little timeout. Unfortunately for Baby, Baby Mitchell is directly in front of her exit, Skylar having hopped up to the apron. Her head and torso through the ropes, Portia looks up to see what's blocking her way and Skye NAILS the FAWN legend with a knee to the jaw that snaps Portia's noggin back with violent force. Having returned VanBuren's earlier favor to her, Skye smirks toward her sister. "You're welcome," she mouths. And a 'thank you' is well-deserved when Portia stumbles back into the ring, turning into another head-snapping collision. Cynthia's superkick hits flush and Baby straightens like a board before timbering to her back, seemingly out cold.
And having received a helping hand from one sister, Cynthia soon finds herself aided by the other, Sophie sliding a steel folding chair underneath the bottom rope and into the ring. "Take it home, Cyn," the tall blonde says, and receives a nod in response from her middle sister. Grabbing a handful of hair, the Cynful One yanks Portia up to trembling legs, Van Buren held stooped, her arms hanging in front of her as the challenger starts to guide her toward the chair. To her credit, Baby attempts to land a swooping right hand to the middle Mitchell's midsection, but the punch comes up almost comically empty. Still, that seems to serve as Cynthia's cue to shove VanBuren's head between her thighs, clamping down with a standing headscissors--one that leaves Fortune's Favorite staring down at a LOT of silver metal, whether she realizes it or not. Grinning, the challenger leans forward to underhook VanBuren's arms, preparing a Drop Out that would almost certainly make the Cynful One a two-time champion.
But before Mitchell can strike the fateful blow, Lyle's baby girl shrieks to life, her arms wrapping around a startled Cynthia's thighs. Lifting the challenger with a loud grunt, the blonde sends the middle Mitchell up and over with a back body drop, Cyn's spine colliding with the thinly-covered plywood with a THUMP. Outside, Cynthia's siblings grimace in disappointment, their sister so close to being FAWN's reigning queen and taking it from the organization's queen bytch. On the other side, Alexis sighs with relief while Rachel makes a mental note, her clipboard gone. VanBuren is on one knee after her supreme effort, trying to regain more of her senses before she takes up more of the fight.
Cynthia, on the other hand, has used the ropes to pull herself up to BOTH knees, Portia' backdrop hurtful--but not debilitating, thanks at least to the Cynful One's back missing the folding chair. Mitchell hauls herself up to her feet just as Fortune's Favorite pushes off her knee, rising up to a wobbly base--and with her back turned to the Cynful One. Sensing perhaps one last, best opportunity to assert permanent control on this contest, Cynthia shoves away from the ropes, racing toward her opponent as Baby turns around. Drawing close, the middle Mitchell leaps toward her foe, reaching an arm across VanBuren's chest to try to grab her shoulder, aiming to subject Portia to some steel-reinforced Carolina Blues.
CAROLINA BLUES:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=U2tn1-20BAc
But Portia proves to be more ready than Mitchell suspects, for when she leaps to wrap an arm around the blonde's head and DRIVE her into the steel, Portia intercepts the airborne brunette out in front of her. Catching Cynthia across her right shoulder, Baby counters the Blues into a powerslam straight onto the folded metal of the chair, a loud CLANG reverberating through the arena as Mitchell seems to explode in a spasm, her back arching wildly. The crowd groans and watches aghast as a kneeling Baby forces her foe flat and covers Mitchell in a lateral press, hooking both legs of the brunette and drawing her challenger into a tight cradled ball, Cynthia resting on her shoulders, ass pointed to the rafters.
ONE...
"CHAIR!" Sophie shouts, extending a finger to point out that her sister's shoulders currently rested not against the canvas, but the metallic seat pan of the folding chair. But either the referee doesn't notice, or perhaps simply doesn't care.
TWO...
Sophie grabs the middle rope, placing a knee on the apron as she moves to enter the ring. Skylar is close on her heels, but it proves abundantly clear that NEITHER Mitchell would be quick enough to prevent the...
THRENOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
"Gyyyuunnnnnnhhhhhhh..." the Cynful One moans, thrusting a balled fist heavenward and lifting her shoulder off the mat... er, chair.
Baby turns on the Mitchells in the peanut gallery. "Keep you noses out of VanBuren business. Or you may lose them." Portia glances at her Associates and nods, both Rachel and Alexis hopping to the apron but remaining outside the ropes. Cynthia's sisters do the same, each side preparing for war. But the inside of the squared circle is the only location where the conflict is active and Portia drags a dazed Cynthia to her feet with a handful of dark locks. Immediately, the slender socialite takes off for the ropes behind her and rebounds at a breakneck pace. And doing some breaking seems to be Portia's plan as she raises a boot toward Cynthia's chin, hoping to snap her challenger with a Yakuza Kick.
[b}YAKUZA KICK:[/b]
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_QXJ5rGs1Wg
And from the end of one exquisitely shapely leg, Portia's boot SLAMS in underneath Cynthia's jaw, the Yakuza finding its mark with chilling precision. Cynthia wheels to the side, completing one full revolution and half of a second before she pitches forward--a series of movements so swift that most observers probably missed the Cynful One's eyes rolling back in her head. As she topples to the canvas, Mitchell's arms barely even more to break her fall, Cynthia left in a starfish on her belly, her right cheek pressed against the mat, lips pursed as the softest of groans push past them.
VanBuren skids to a stop and blows a kiss at the Mitchell clan on the outside. She turns and strides to Cynthia, scraping her off the canvas and bullying her into the Associates corner. Placing her hands on either of Mitchell's hips, Portia launches the Carolina Cutie up to a seat on the top rope just off the buckles and climbs next to her, sitting on the opposite corner cables. Standing, she corrals Mitchell's noggin in her grip, yanking it into a front facelock while precariously balancing, readying a leap off the strand and a delivery of her signature Soho Uh-Oh, a prelude to closing time in old Manhattan.
SOHO UH-OH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=2NrZ0nfiK-I&feature=channel_page
Thinks look bleak for the Cynful One as Portia works her way to a seated perch on the top rope... but as Baby reaches for her noggin, Cynthia manages to sling a punch into VanBuren's abdomen. The blow doesn't do much more than knock a gasp out of Fortune's Favorite, but it DOES slow her down...
... which allows Mitchell to land a second, harder punch. And THIS punch rocks the slender socialite backward, Portia's eyes widening in alarm as she can feel herself starting a dangerous tumble off the top rope and all the way down to the concrete floor. One of VanBuren's arms windmills in an effort to stabilize herself, but the other does a far more effective job of doing so when she grabs Cynthia's shoulder. Still, the middle Mitchell is ready to throw a THIRD punch...
... when Portia's previously flailing hand flashes to Cynthia's eyes, raking across the challenger's peepers and forcing a shriek from the Cynful One. As Mitchell's hand involuntarily moves to rub away the burn from her eyes, VanBuren secures Cynthia's head and snatches that wrist. The rest is academic, Baby leaping from the middle rope and nearly snapping Mitchell's neck as the duo plummet to earth. Cynthia hits the mat with a loud 'THOONK!' and a dull groan, arms and legs splayed, her eyelids lowering halfway as she looks up at the rafters.
VanBuren sits up, a look of relief as much as satisfaction on her face. She shrugs at her Associates and they stand down, literally. Hopping to the floor. Baby snuggles in behind Cynthia, lifting the brunette to a wobbly seat in front of her. "Enjoy," Baby says to Sophie and Skylar as she drops to her side behind the dazed challenger, quickly scissoring Mitchell's left leg and widening it from Cyn's crotch with both of her own stems. On the other side of Cynthia's torso, Portia grabs Mitchell's opposite leg and begins to draw it in the opposite direction, violently forcing Cynthia into a set of splits Janel Manning would be more than proud of, Portia planning on 'Stretching a Buck' all the way to victory.
STRETCHING A BUCK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=BcgDGJvz9GM&list=PL6D543E88E233B021&index=8
As soon as Cynthia finds her gams being forced apart, she snaps back to wide-eyed life with a howl and a whimper. But when the referee asks if she wants to call it a night, the middle Mitchell shakes her head. Out on the floor, Sophie and Skylar both slap the apron, imploring their sister to fight her way out. Unfortunately, the Cynful One was almost dead set in the center of the ring, no ropes even close to within her reach--and with her legs tied up, there was no way she could try to scoot on her tush without possibly tearing her hamstrings. Which was something Portia didn't need much help in doing. More distressingly, Baby's posture makes it difficult for Cynthia to employ her elbows, at least where she can get any mustard on the shots. The best she can manage is to ball a fist, awkwardly reaching back to aim punches just above VanBuren's hip, Cynthia unsure of how many she could hope to land before the agony in her legs grew too great.
Unlike most trust fund Babies, Portia is willing to take some pain for her gain and she grits her way through the balled fists for ten even fifteen seconds. But Cynthia, knowing world title fights come once in a blue moon, seems determined not to capitulate and VanBuren decides this buck has been stretched far enough. She releases her scissors and rolls away from the rest of her hold, Skye clapping enthusiastically for her sister. Portia strides by and kicks the ropes in front of the noob. "Shut it, kid. It's only getting worse." Portia yanks an aching Mitchell to her feet and draws the limping Cyn to a neutral corner, taking the inside on her foe. VanBuren hops to the middle ropes, her hands deep in the dark locks of Cynthia. Having a little fun at Mitchell's expense now, she stuffs the contender's face into her crotch for a little added humiliation before preparing to vault off and ride Cynthia to the mat before delivering her Boob Job.
BOOB JOB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=DJs-L1k19lU
Five seconds of face-scrubbing is followed by about one second of freedom as Portia pushes Cynthia's head away--and that one second proves too little time to respond before Fortune's Favorite leaps from the second rope, her weight forcing the Cynful One to her back, Portia's virtually flawless backside slamming HEAVILY down atop the middle Mitchell's bust. As Cynthia is left mewling and rocking weakly side to side, VanBuren bounces off her foe and to her knees, the slender socialite meeting the narrowed eyes of Sophie Mitchell with a smirk. "Admit it, bytch. You're just a tad jealous, aren't you?" The eldest Mitchell's cheeks flush, though her expression remains otherwise enraged.
"And now...the coupe de grace," Portia adds with a smirk and a wink. "I finish the best of your breed." Moving from a forward facing kneeling straddle, Baby rotates to a reverse, her undercarriage hovering over the dazed Mitchell. The blonde reaches forward to collect the brunette's legs behind the knees and pulls them back with her as she puts her flawless derriere in reverse, starting to matchbook Mitchell. Alexis cheers her boss loudly as VanBuren's dollar sign lowers toward Cynthia's face, Mitchell's wide-eyed features about to become the Queen's throne, Baby preparing to ride her Portia 911 to victory.
Cynthia's hips begin to buck even before Portia settles heavily atop her mug, but Baby will NOT be dislodged--even when the middle Mitchell's thrashing grows MORE pronounced, thanks to the talons that plunge into her defenseless nether regions. VanBuren responds to the increasing protests by rising up ever so slightly--not nearly enough to allow fresh air in for the Cynful One, but enough to allow Fortune's Favorite to roughly bounce her rump off Cynthia's face, again and again, her fingers continuing to torture Mitchell's kitty. On the floor, Sophie reaches for the middle rope... but her fingers barely manage to clasp around the cable when Cynthia starts slapping the mat.
The referee instantly calls for the bell and the PA makes his announcement, proclaiming Portia the victor and still World Champion. But it's all background noise as Baby begins thrusting forward and back across Cynthia's face, her breathing getting choppy as she stares down at both Sophie and Skylar. "And admit it," Portia huffs as she heaves, "you really wanted to do this too...both of you."
Van Buren continues to glide her nethers across Cynthia's features as the vanquished's arms fall flat at her sides, Portia letting her demolished foe's legs unfold, the blonde placing her palms atop Cynthia's bosom as her ride becomes quicker.
"You... you sick BYTCH!" Skylar snaps, then dives under the bottom rope. Sophie curses under her breath--even with Portia currently... ummm... preoccupied, she had to wonder how ready to tangle with a FAWN Original like VanBuren her baby sister actually is. As Skye scrambles to her feet, the eldest Mitchell slides in after her. While it might be too late to save the match, together they at least had a shot of allowing Cynthia to leave her tonight with her dignity.
And like mirror images behind Portia instead of in front, Raker and Suguitan are up and entering. They slide through and rush at the Mitchell interlopers, Raker toward Sophie and Alexis toward Skylar, arms drawn in clotheslines. As the foursome head toward each other, Baby realizes she won't be able to varnish Cynthia tonight and, as much a disappointment as it is, she glides to a halt, a case of blue bayou sending a shudder up her spine as she rises to her knees unfulfilled. "Sisters," she hisses, as Alexis and Rachel race by on either side toward their targets.
Fortunately for Sophie and Skylar, the eldest and youngest Mitchell sisters demonstrate some sisterly telepathy, both ducking the would-be scythes at practically the same instant--and, more impressively, both stopping on a dime just on the other side of their attackers. As Rachel comes to a halt, Sophie abruptly wheels back toward the legal eagle, her elbow cocked, looking to land a Death Blow to the back of Raker's skull.
DEATH BLOW:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=U_697zjPNEc )
Skye, meanwhile, waits for Alexis to turn--and when she does, a kick to the side of the head whips Suguitan to her right, sending the Filipino beauty staggering into the ropes. The Li'l Mitchell then turns and resumes her race into the far cables, leaping onto the middle rope just as Alexis rebounds off the strands behind her. Springboarding off the cable, Skylar reaches a hand to grab the back of Suguitan's noggin, aiming to drive her face into the mat with a bulldog.
Sophie's forearm CRACKS into the back of Raker's cranium and the redhead seems to turn to jelly. She flops to the canvas wide-eyed and in no condition to make a closing argument. Skylar, meanwhile, shows herself to be the little acrobat of the clan. And, with Alexis wobbly from the boot to her temple, the Filipino catfighter can't keep track of Skye. The Li’lest Mitchell performs a fly-by, grabbing Alexis head and PLANTING it into the deck with a bulldog as sharp as any long-time veteran. Between the splayed, Associates, Raker face up and Suguitan face down, is a suddenly outnumbered World Champion. Standing in a straddle over the softly stirring Cynthia, Baby holds up her hands plaintively. "Now ladies. The match is over. Let's not do anything we might regret."
Sophie and Skylar continue to advance on the victorious World champion, slowly, deliberately... but still making enough progress that Portia is persuaded to start backpedalling. "I... don't think I'm gonna regret anything about this," the eldest Mitchell muses, before casting a quick, sideways glance toward her baby sis. "What about you, Skye?"
"You kidding?" the Li'lest Mitchell responds. "This might get me and Charlie fast-tracked up here! Having my way with a FAWN legend and all..."
Once VanBuren's feet are clear of Cynthia, Baby turns and starts to dive toward the ropes--but not quickly enough, Sophie's arm lashing out, her fingers slipping into the waistband of the slender socialite's bottoms. For the briefest of moments, Baby manages her best impression of the Coppertone baby as she clings to the cables, but a final, sharp tug turns her and sends her staggering into the clutches of Sophie Mitchell. Those clutches take the form of two hands wrapping around VanBuren's throat, the eldest Mitchell ready to HEAVE Baby aloft, then DRIVE her to the mat via a choke bomb.
CHOKE BOMB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=SzcW5uXJ-gc
The bigger, blonde powerhouse of the Mitchell house dips and heaves a panicked Portia HIGH into the air, Van Buren's renowned cheeks reaching Sophie's shoulders on the upswing. Unfortunately for Fortune's Favorite, there's also a trip down. Soph sits out and nearly drives Baby THROUGH the canvas, VanBuren's flattened frame bouncing a couple inches off the canvas from the force of the impact between Mitchell's extended legs. A dazed champ gamely tries to rise but can't get past halfway up to sitting, her mind too scrambled and her body too shellshocked.
Sophie glances up at Skylar with a smile. "Want a go?"
"You bet!" the Li'lest Mitchell replied, with a grin that threatened to consume her entire face. Nodding, the eldest Mitchell rolls away from Portia before climbing to her feet, and as Skye saunters over to the splattered socialite, her sister peels Alexis off the canvas, giving her the bum's rush toward the ropes. Skylar gathers up VanBuren's ankles, lifting her succulent stems before starting to push Baby over to her belly, intending to step over and sink into a crouch, the youngest hoping to lock on a decidedly old school Boston crab. And a couple of feet away, the Cynful One struggles up to a seated position, groaning, her woozy head shaking gently side to side.
Sophie runs an unsteady Suguitan to the cables and tosses her over with the skill of a college town bouncer. Sophie brushes her hands together and moves toward a rising Raker to do the same with VB&A's lead counsel. Meanwhile, the rook has FAWN's most hated in a dazed single file in front of her, Portia's arms raised above her head, the blonde in a stupor courtesy Sophie. Skye doesn't have a problem with sloppy seconds if it means PPV air-time with Portia and she spins VanBuren to her chest, settling into a deep crouch over Baby and bending Portia's spine in an agonizing bow that brings Portia back to life with a yelp and a curse. "AHHH...BRAT...I'm going to...".
Skylar leans back all the more, then tears the roof off when she drops into a bridge, bringing Portia's legs with her, damn near touching VanBuren's heels to the back of her head. Portia wildly slaps the mat, screaming as she taps. "Let go...GAWWWD...STAHHHP."
The LAST thing Skye wanted to do was give Portia the satisfaction, but truth be told, this bridge COULDN'T be held for very long by Domi Daly, let alone her. And, grudgingly, the Li'lest Mitchell releases Portia's ankles and rolls to her side, breaking the crab. As Fortune's Favorite is left writhing on the canvas, massaging the small of her back with one hand, Sophie gives Cynthia a helping hand back to her feet.
"Sorry, Cyn," the tall blonde sighed, but her sister waves off any attempt at apology.
"Can't win the match now," Cynthia mutters, before her expression brightens slightly, and she motions Skylar over to join them. "But we can still make a mark."
The sisters Mitchell gather into a huddle, their heads bobbing as plans are made and strategies discussed. When they break, the Cynful One marches over to Portia's head, gathering up a handful of hair and stuffing VanBuren's skull between her thighs. Just as she had done moments before, Cynthia then begins to underhook Baby's arms--only this time, Sophie takes hold of the champion's ankles, lifting her legs into the air. There'd be no backdrop, this time...
But what of Skylar?
The Li'l Mitchell backs up, creating as much space as she can between her and the suspended socialite. The youngest Mitchell then launches into a sprint toward Portia, leaping into the air, ready to land on VanBuren's back--and, from their, fly to the top rope and springboard back off the top rope in a moonsault that would make this possibly the most emphatic Drop Out of all time.
The Mitchells work seamlessly while Portia's Associates struggle to regain their senses on the outside. As for Portia, she's on the raised altar ready to be sacrificed for a Mitchell Family PPV grand finale that would likely be remembered longer than VanBuren having retained. As the veteran sisters have Portia set up like a bowling pin, Skye KNOCKS the sinister socialite DOWN. Gracefully, she backflips from her springboard and lands across the back of the groaning, pleading Portia DROPPING HER OUT face and chest first to the canvas, consciousness caving an instant after impact, the crowd roaring at the sight of the three Mitchells laying waste to the woman who ruled but could not make them bow.
It's a very tempting thought for Cynthia, to roll Portia over and repay not just the 911, but the Bare Ass Market before it. But Alexis and Rachel were FAR too dangerous to take her sister's best efforts to keep them at bay being successful for granted. So the Cynful One rises to her feet and rolls the obliterated champion toward the ropes with a couple of kicks to the ribs. "There," Mitchell snarls, sending Portia dropping to the floor and into the arms of her Associates. "Take that trash back to the dressing room. And know that the NEXT time I get a shot at you, Baby? That belt's gonna be mine again!"
But somehow, in that time, Cynthia Mitchell--the very same Cynthia Mitchell who had turned on the FAWNatics and on Cosette LeBlanc, back when the French beauty was on the side of the angels, the same Cynthia Mitchell who had reveled in making Kylie Sanders her personal bytch, back when KYLIE was on the side of the angels--had found her way back into the good graces of the Orlando faithful. And frankly, she hadn’t consciously done much to make that happen. It had simply been a case of going into battles with the right opponents, women that that FAWNatics seemingly hated MORE...
... and tonight, the Cynful One was due to face arguably the most hated woman in FAWN history.
Cynthia might not have sought the renewed embrace of the audience, but she had to admit, not getting booed out of the building every single night was a refreshing change. And speaking of change, even if Mitchell herself didn’t feel she’d undergone much in the way of one, Mania still felt like the beginning of a new chapter, one that would need to be recognized in some way...
“Ladies and gentlemen," the ring announcer began, “this is YOUR main event for the evening. It is a Park Avenue Street Fight scheduled for one fall, with a 30 minute time limit. There will be NO COUNTOUTS and NO DISQUALIFICATIONS... and is for the FAWN WORLD Championship! Introducing first, the challenger... Hailing from Charlotte, North Carolina… She stands five feet seven inches tall and weighs in tonight at..." His tone shifted, suggesting that the next few words were ones that he has been instructed to say, rather than those he would elect to employ himself. "one hundred and twenty sinfully delicious pounds...”
And, for once, the crowd ROARED in delight at that pronouncement.
“She is the Cynful One, CYYYNNNTTTHHHIIIAAA MIIITTTCCCHHHEEELLLLLL!"
The cheers from the FAWNatics continued, even as the speakers began to play an unfamiliar fanfare, one which soon transitioned into the pulsing rhythm of Demi Lovato’s “Confident”. All eyes in the FAWN arena shift to the stage and within heartbeats, Cynthia Mitchell, former Tag, Lightweight, World champion and all round ice cold bytch goddess brushes through the curtains.
”CONFIDENT”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=cwLRQn61oUY
CYNTHIA MITCHELL:
And the cheers of the audience grow louder still when she proves not to be alone. Flanked on either side of the challenger are her older and younger sisters, Sophie and Skylar.
SOPHIE MITCHELL:
SKYLAR MITCHELL:
Mitchell doesn’t linger more than a few seconds before heading down to the ring with a sassy ‘avert your gaze, mortals!’ swish in her step--again, formerly scorned demeanor meeting with VOCIFEROUS approval from the FAWNatics.
For tonight’s contest, it appears that Cynthia is clad in her now standard ‘one-piece’--said outfit a deep purple number with a plunging V neckline that goes all the way to her navel and a back that might qualify as a thong if you were feeling generous. However, there remains an ever so tiny sense of mystery about the Cyn-Ful One’s sartorial choices, thanks to the T-shirt that extends down to just above where her thighs curved into her glutes. That shirt is white, with a light red circle in the middle faintly emblazoned with the Stars and Bars of her southern heritage. Inside the circle are two crossed roses, their buds also sporting the rebel emblem, albeit in a much more prominent manner.
And written above all this is the script: “SOUTHERN GIRL: WHO NEEDS BIG BOOBS WHEN YOU GOT A BUTT LIKE MINE?”
CYNTHIA’S T-SHIRT:
i676.photobucket.com/albums/vv123/FAWN_Fed/297460_256918641077409_1505090834_n.jpg
While the Cynful One had long been known to shun contact with the subhumanoids, that had never convinced the FAWNatics to stop reaching out their hands along the railing. Cynthia might not have morphed into a new Riley Shayne, desperate not to leave ANY palm untouched, but Mitchell still slaps a few hands on her way down to the ring, until she reaches the end of the aisle. At which point, Cynthia ascends the steel steps and waits on the apron until the referee comes over to hold the ropes open to allow her proper passage.
Once the official takes a seat on the middle rope, Mitchell slips a leg into the ring, then pulls her torso through the strands in an agonizingly slow movement—well, agonizing for those straight males and not-so-straight females in the audience with a heart condition, at least. With Mitchell finally on the other side of the ropes, the FAWNatics grow even more appreciative when Mitchell peels the tee up her torso, revealing the rest of her usual battle togs for the first time tonight. Cynthia holds the garment above the mat for a moment...
... and then she slings the tee into a sea of hands.
Having knocked off a fellow FAWN legend at Mania, the media pressed Lyle VanBuren’s baby girl to top herself and the woman now standing in the ring, at the very least, met Armstrong’s incredible standard.
Behind the curtain, the THREE-time World Champion sidles confidently between her two remaining Associates. Stripping Kylie of the belt had been epic; surviving Ivy with an eventually humiliating win over the Bama Slamma had been awesome; but could tonight’s dangerous and seemingly reformed foe be a proverbial ‘trap game’.
None of the VB&A seem particularly concerned with the woman in the ring or her her two siblings outside. And when the sounds of ‘How You Like Me Now' from Heavy, the drumbeating clarion call of FAWN’s infamous socialite begin, the threesome’s march confidently into the arena bowl.
The crowd rises to its feet, not in support of the icon and champion, but to jeer Baby at levels no one else could elicit, particularly with the slender socialite in possession of FAWN’s biggest prize.
”HOW YOU LIKE ME NOW?”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=sVzvRsl4rEM
PORTIA VANBUREN:
ALEXIS SUGUITAN:
RACHEL RAKER:
The assembled let Lyle VanBuren’s only child have it with both barrels. The head of VB&A floats like a feather over the hatred, the enormous gold plate on the belt around her waist lifting her rather than weighing her down. Next to her, Alexis leads a vain effort to gain the titleholder some support. She relents and instead points at belt, letting everyone know the hardware is back where it belongs.
Beaming, Baby starts down the aisle, slapping her faceplate and making sure everyone knows the loss of a quarter of her father’s fortune to Gretchen Vaughn is an aggravating but increasingly distant memory. She was and now IS the best.
Portia unsnaps the leather and lifts the belt overhead; the familiar, eardrum-injuring cascade of catcalls echoing through the confines at the volume of a jet engine as she strides down the aisle, Rachel and Alexis on either side.
The sinewy blonde reaches the ring, smiling and offering a queenly wave to all the Mitchell girls. She offers a familiar toss of her flaxen mane from one side to the other as she makes her way up the ring steps.
VanBuren is back to classic Portia as far as gear goes, a daringly scant black bikini with a green, sparkling dollar sign on her infamous and flawless derriere. Baby’s uva-nourished, ivory skin glows next to the black swatches, her attire completed with green pads and black boots. The footwear contains a green outline of the state of New Jersey, an iconic red circle with a slash superimposed atop the Garden State.
The blonde patrician slides into the ring only after Suguitan widens the ropes for her, Portia’s protégé, talking up her boss loudly while assisting her entrance. Alexis stuns in her skin-tight, red mini and pumps, the copper skin of her arms and legs resplendent. Rachel takes notes in her legal pad from the floor, Raker in a wardrobe far from casual business, instead glorious in a tight pinstripe suit and skirt, her red hair up in a messy bun, black nerdy glasses precariously resting on the tip of her adorable nose.
The ring announcer breaks in as Lyle’s baby girl hops in her corner.
“And her opponent… accompanied to the ring by her partners in VanBuren & Associates, Alexis Suguitan and Rachel Raker…from Manhattan and Easthampton, New York and Monaco City, Monaco, standing five feet seven inches tall and weighing in at 120 pounds, she is the THREE, THREE, THREE TIME FAWN World Champion… Portia Ophelia VanBuren IV!”
Portia drops the belt from her shoulder to give Mitchell, make that Mitchells, a better view.
“You picked the wrong time to go soft Cynthetic.”
Portia arrogantly turns to her curvy back-up, handing the belt and the stick over to Alexis, though the ref instantly demands Suguitan present the title to him. The man moves to the center and holds the belt high, the crowd growing more excited by the second, particularly when Cynthia is allowed to inspect before the zebra hands the prize over to a FAWN flunky for safe keeping.
The Cynful One offers a wry smile... but then, Mitchell's right hand slices through the air, her palm BLASTING into Portia's cheek with an echoing slap. An exuberant Skylar immediately displays her approval by slapping the apron with both hands. For her part, Sophie's arms remain folded across her chest, but the tall blonde's smirk indicates her endorsement as well. Inside the ring, Cynthia practically purrs as she asks, "Tell me, bytch, just how 'soft' did THAT feel?"
VanBuren massages her jaw as she draws her face back to the challenger's. "Like a flea bite, sweetheart. Has it really been since the first month of FAWN's existence since we met?" Not waiting for an answer or the bell, Baby breaks her conversational tone to lift a toe kick toward Mitchell's tummy, trying to catch her foe napping and, if so, tug the lowered head of the brunette into a side headlock.
But there's a problem inherent in trying to get the drop on a woman who, up until a few months ago, was perfectly willing to take every single shortcut the slender socialite might think up. Proving to be wide awake, Cynthia's hands intercept Portia's boot, catching her by the ankle. Trying not to give VanBuren even a second to comprehend how empty she had come up, the Cynful One tosses away that gam, sending Baby spinning away from her. Once the champion's back is to her--and Baby finds herself facing Alexis--Mitchell reaches around her waist, looking to pull Portia into an embrace which would lead to a lift--and then to Fortune's Favorite's tush being SLAMMED down on Cynthia knee via an atomic drop.
The blonde lets out a soft 'guhh' as Mitchell's arms encircle her midriff tightly. The second generation superstar vaults a wriggling Baby high into the air in front of her. It's a farther trip down as Cynthia drops to genuflect on the canvas and the former 'Cynful One' splits Portia's wickets in brutal fashion. VanBuren hops HIGH into the air from the 50-megaton explosion in her crotch, her knees knocking before she comes down, hands buried between her thighs. On the outside, Alexis winces in sympathy pain from the attack to Portia's personal space.
As VanBuren starts to drag herself toward the ropes, her thighs notably clenched tight, Cynthia casts a quick glance at the referee. "Wanna make this official?" she asks. Nodding, the zebra waves toward the timekeeper's table, and the bell sounds. The match now properly underway, the Cynful One saunters toward her retreating prey, Baby looking to make it to her compatriots on the outside. With Portia's head on the apron but her shoulders still inside the ring, Mitchell grabs hold of the champion's ankles, pulling VanBuren's stems slightly apart as she rolls Portia to her back. Cynthia then starts to stuff the slender socialite's boots under her arms, planning to fall back--and catapult VanBuren's throat into the underside of the bottom rope.
VanBuren understands exactly what Mitchell has in mind when her throat is lined up with the bottom cable and she shakes her head, screaming at the official. "In the ropes, I'm in thUHHHACKKKGHH." VanBuren's complaint is cut off when Cynthia lays out and sends the World Champ rocketing up, if only for a split second. The rope does it's job, stopping Portia cold, the back of her head then thumping into the deck on the recoil. Baby spasms, grasping at her throat. She gags violently as she rolls all the way back in, not wanting a repeat performance, and manages to push to a seated position the New Yorker trying to regain her breath.
"C'mon, ref," Alexis snarls, slapping the apron in frustration. The official doesn't pay her outburst a second thought, but across the ring, Skye playfully sticks her tongue out at the penthouse terror. "Crying like a li'l bytch ALREADY, Suguitan?" Sophie asks, just for good measure. Meanwhile, in the ring, Cynthia snatches a handful of Portia's locks and tugs Fortune's Favorite up to rubbery legs. "Yes, Portia," Mitchell hisses, dragging VanBuren toward the nearest corner, "it HAS been a good 12 years since you and I last tangled. Feels like just yesterday you were treating me like a welcome mat." Her fingers tightening around Baby's tresses, Mitchell starts to shove Portia's face toward the top turnbuckle. "Time for me to return the favor..."
VanBuren's forehead SLAMS into the scant padding of the top buckle, her noggin whiplashing violently away from the impact only to have Cynthia send it in again and again. The crowd quickly picks up the count as the THUMPING turnbuckle smashes get to EIGHT...NINE...TEN! Finally, Cynthia's had enough, using Baby's locks to toss her toward the middle. VanBuren stagger to center stage, green eyes glassy. She slowly melts to her knees then timbers to her face, her arms wide and motionless, legs below the knees pointed upward, as if in a horizontal kneel. On the outside, Alexis invites Sophie over, but the elder Mitchell declines for now while Rachel continues to furiously work at her pad and clipboard.
Cynthia saunters around the prostrate Portia, egging the crowd to cheer a little louder with a wave of her hand--and earning even more cheers with the swish in her hips along the way. The former Tag, Lightweight and World champ comes to a halt in front of VanBuren's noggin, then drops to a seat in front of the reigning World champ. It couldn't ALL be about brawling and catfighting, even in a so-called streetfight, so Cyn scoots forward and begins to snake her legs around the neck of Fortune's Favorite. Of course, that was only stage one. If the Cynful One could get to stage two of this hold, and Portia refused to surrender her title? Well, that would be a Mortal Cyn...
MORTAL CYN:
The brunette draws Portia's wobbly head into her lap and encircles Baby's head with her lithe, ivory legs. Although they might not have the fame of her former tag partner's, when they clamp down around VanBuren's head, the two Associates on the outside get noticeably antsy. Portia too groans back to life, her pale face turning rosier by the second. And when Mitchell reaches forward to capture the champ's left leg, bending it into a Crab-like curve, Cynthia seems more than ready to prove Portia's third reign very mortal. Mitchell looks with sublime satisfaction down at a concerned Portia's features. She wrenches on the leg. "Quit!" And when VanBuren hesitates, she adds, "Now!" But Portia coughs out an unconvincing 'no', as a growingly frantic Alexis climbs to the apron.
Naturally, this being a street fight, there was nothing to keep Alexis Suguitan on the apron--certainly not the threat of disqualification. And, sure enough, the Filipino beauty slips through the ropes. But what's good for the goose... there was nothing to hold the eldest and youngest Mitchell sisters on the floor, either, and both Sophie and Skylar dive under the bottom rope. Neither Tar Heel can get to her feet quick enough to prevent Suguitan from landing a kick to Cynthia's jaw that breaks the challenger's grip on Portia's ankle and loosens her legs, but it's only a moment after that before Sophie's shoulder plows into Alexis' midsection with a spear. Shaking out a couple of cobwebs, the Cynful One climbs to her feet before gathering up a handful of VanBuren's tresses. And as Sophie and Alexis roll toward the ropes--with Skye following in pursuit--the middle Mitchell pushes Portia's head between her thighs. Cynthia then reaches for the champion's arms--not to set up the Drop Out, but to lock them behind Baby's back in a double hammerlock, after which she intends to muscle Fortune's Favorite aloft for a piledriver.
DOUBLE HAMMERLOCK PILEDRIVER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=w9K20P6ayCw
And with Portia having been Cynthesized for the last few minutes, Baby can do little to stop from having her arms trapped by the Carolina Brat. Mitchell is ready to launch VanBuren into the piledriver position when a miscalculation by Skye comes back to bite her sister. For as two Mitchells take off for Alexis, VB&A's legal counsel enters the ring from the opposite side with clipboard at the ready, aiming the weapon at the crown of Cynthia's head, preparing a two-handed blow with her weapon of choice to prevent the the debilitating attack.
Skylar learns of her mistake a couple of seconds after the FAWNatics, for while they watched as Raker snuck up on the challenger, the Li'lest Mitchell is alerted by the wicked 'CRAAAAAAAK!' of clipboard meeting cranium. Cynthia's arms fall slack as her legs buckle, allowing Portia to drop back to her feet and slip out of the standing headscissors as the Cynful One stumbles away. The middle Mitchell's gams quake and give way after a step, sending Cynthia dropping to her knees and falling into the ropes. But as that treacherous clipboard rebounds away from her sister's noggin, Skylar turns and charges toward Rachel, leaping into a dropkick aimed at that clipboard--which, ideally, would send it flying into RAKER'S face...
Skye's aim is true if belated. Her dropkick connects first with Rachel's ubiquitous clipboard and then Raker's face with the Fixer's weapon of choice in between. The 'THUMP' sends the lawyer flying up and over the top rope, Rachel plummeting to the apron before banging to the floor where she ends in a crumpled, pinstriped heap. Skye kips to her feet, and when Raker makes an effort to rise, she turns and heads to the opposite ropes. Sprinting into the cables, she rebounds and races toward an acrobatic suicide dive. Or what it surely would have been if a risen Portia had not clotheslined the rookie through a somersaulting backflip of an impact, Skylar meeting FAWN's biggest bad for the first time, the hard way. Drawing a dazed Skye off the deck with one handful of hair, Portia does the same with Cynthia, both sisters yelping from nasty tugs of their locks. A growly VanBuren draws back the heads of both brunettes. "I know there not one mind in there between the two of you, but how about a meeting anyway."
Say what you will about VB&A, but they clearly possess a commitment to family as Portia arranges an emphatic reunion. Forehead smashes into forehead with a loud 'THOOONK!', while Sophie and Alexis continue to roll back and forth on the concrete floor. Just as you would expect in any family, there had been arguments over just which sister had the hardest head. At least between the younger members of the clan, we get an answer as Skye wheels away from the impact and, when Portia releases her mane, pitches to the canvas, winding up face down and moaning. Cynthia, meanwhile, drops to her knees again in front of Fortune's Favorite, VanBuren continuing to maintain a grip on her locks. The middle Mitchell still manages to sling a sloppy punch toward Baby's belly, however...
Baby grunts as the fist SMECKS home, but she shakes it off without too much effort. A recovering and furious Portia tugs Cynthia up to stooped feet and slides to a position beside her foe. She captures an arm of Mitchell's and tugs it between the challenger's legs, creating a pumphandle. Reaching forward, Baby sweeps her body under Cynthia's far arm and has Mitchell ready for launch into a gutbuster that could change the makeup of this title tilt.
PUMPHANDLE GUTBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=xbFqgI6XCz4
Any thought of the Cynful One managing an escape from this predicament is quickly vanquished when Portia takes a page out of her opponent's (underhanded) playbook, by giving Cynthia's wrist a sharp and sudden tug--which sends the middle Mitchell's forearm smashing into her own crotch! Cynthia barely has time to squeal out a high-pitched protest before Baby hoist her up and swings her over. Dropping to one knee, VanBuren brings the challenger crashing down, belly first, across her posted knee. This time, Cynthia IS able to vocalize a loud and breathy "GYYYUUUUUNNNNGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!" of a gasp as her torso momentarily rises from the impact. Only then, her upper body slumps forward, the impaled Cynful One left folded across Portia's thigh as she coughs and sputters for air.
Portia laces her fingers and buries them into the base of Mitchell's spine, sending her back arching in response. She disdainfully shoves her challenger off bended knee, Mitchell rolling to her back. On the outside, Sophie and Alexis have finally separated though Suguitan has the beginnings of a shiner for her trouble as she heads back to the VB&A corner. Raker, is up to her feet, searching for her clipboard only to see it in Skylar's possession, the youngest Mitchell waving aggravatingly from Cynthia's corner. "You best give that back to me, juvenile delinquent," Rachel demands.
In the ring, Baby uses her knee this time to press down on a domineering pin, placing the bony joint in the cleft of Cynthia's bosom. "Count!" she demands.
Skylar takes a step away from the ringpost... but then stops herself. More to the point, her eyes twinkle at Rachel as she reaches the clipboard around behind her back, and starts to push it down inside the waistband of her bottoms--paper side toward skin, of course. The FAWNatics focused on Skylar rather than the action in the ring respond with a laugh, but there's considerably less reason for mirth within the ropes as the referee slaps off the...
ONE...
TWO...
THR...
'SMEEEEECCK!'
Cynthia's right arm flies into the air, but instead of a balled fist on the end as is normally the case, the middle Mitchell's open palm meets the cheek of Fortune's Favorite, turning Portia's head to the side as the Cynful One's arm falls across her chest, her shoulder raised off the canvas.
A startled VanBuren looks down at Mitchell. "Oh no you didn't." Outraged, Baby stands and drives several boots into Cynthia's belly and chest then drags her up and off the canvas. The blonde Irish whips Mitchell toward the corner and when Cynthia turns and crashes into the buckles back first, the champ follows behind. Portia races to her target, planning to squash the Carolina Cutie beneath then get about showing how bad a Bare Ass Market could be in these times of economic uncertainty.
Looking at Fortune's Favorite, one hundred and twenty pounds sounds like it might be rounding up. But a legitimate figure or not, with a full head of steam, it still packs quite an impact when Portia's avalanche BLASTS into the Cynful One. If the middle Mitchell's arms hadn't been slopped over the top rope, she would have wound up flat on her ass. Instead, she simply sags against the buckles as VanBuren turns away and climbs her way onto the middle rope. Smirking, Portia slips her fingers inside her waistband, pulling her dollar sign emblazoned briefs down her hips. Though gutted, Cynthia still manages to rasp out, "Don't... uhhh... uhhhhhheeevveen thiiiinnnnmmmMMMMMMMMPPPPPPHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!"
Baby does considerably more than think about it, she thrusts her hips backward, griiiiiiinding her cheeks into the mug of the Cynful One. After a few moments, the referee raises his hand... but then stops, remembering the lack of disqualifications in this contest. That allows Portia to keep the Bare Ass Market in place for considerably longer than in a standard match. By the time she eventually DOES step down from the middle rope, a greasy faced Mitchell plops to a seat, her features almost as purple as her gear as her chest HEAVES with each intake of oxygen.
Only then does Lyle's indomitable baby girl hop down from her perch, flawless ass with nary a jiggle as her boots land on the canvas. Causing great dismay, Baby pulls her bottoms back into place and bows to the jeering FAWNatics. But she's only stationary for a moment, jogging back to the corner opposite Cynthia, tagging the top buckle and again sprinting toward her foe. VanBuren leaps, legs extended when she closes in, ready to deliver a Polo Pony Busting of the pretender to her throne. The activity in the ring having taken the cheekiness away from a worried Skylar, the youngster tosses Raker's clipboard into the front rows, her booty sweat being her signature on Rachel's match notes. Meanwhile, a wincing Alexis rubs at the mouse on her left eye, snarling at Sophie, no doubt planning some catty revenge.
Cynthia remains consumed with refilling her lungs, barely managing to summon the strength necessary to pull herself up to a slightly more steady seated position... before the middle Mitchell once again becomes intimately acquainted with VanBuren's undercarriage. Portia's tush drops down HARD onto the Cynful One's sternum, one leg slipping over each of Mitchell's shoulders as Baby grabs hold of the top rope. Showing a deceptive amount of upper body strength, VanBuren pulls herself into the air, only to viciously THRUST her hips and pelvis forward and down... again and again... harder and harder... DRIVING her backside into Cynthia's upper chest and her crotch into the Cynful One's revolted face. And, just as with the Bare Ass Market, tonight there would be no reprieve from the referee, the only limits on the humiliating treatment by Fortune's Favorite being Portia's own reserves of strength, and of wickedness.
Satisfied with her ride, Baby dismounts. But quickly seems to realize she's forgotten something. She turns and walks to her corner while Cynthia spits out the remaining taste of VanBuren Tar-Tar. The lead Associate leans over the ropes and speaks to her junior member. Alexis nods and reaches under the apron, pulling out...the FAWNatics hardly believe their eyes.
PRECIOUS!
Portia's infamous polo mallet is handed to Fortune's Favorite. The official starts to grab for Baby's friend but Portia tut-tuts him away. "Park Avenue Streetfight, Jersey!"
The man nods and Baby takes full possession, advancing on the rising Cynthia, brandishing the head of the mallet, she charges with both hands on its neck, planning to use it as a battering ram to the Carolina girl's chin.
Instead, Cynthia's hands flash upward, placing themselves between Precious and her jaw, saving herself from an almost certain knockout shot. Portia takes a step back, but is otherwise undeterred, Fortune's Favorite loading up for another go... but instead, the middle Mitchell manage to send a boot into the pit of VanBuren's stomach, forcing a gasp out of the champ--AND, more importantly, forcing Portia to lose her grip on Precious. As the mallet falls to the canvas, Cynthia steps in, firing a forearm to the chest that connects hard enough to turn Baby away, sending VanBuren staggering a few strides. Cynthia closes the space between them as quickly as she can, leaping toward Portia, reaching out an arm to try to secure a guillotine choke and, hopefully, wear Baby down a little closer to Cynthia's own current level of stamina.
TILT-A-WHIRL GUILLOTINE CHOKE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=XL1HnBemIbM
Trying to regain her bearings after the rattling contact, Portia wobbles in a 180 back toward her foe and Mitchell times her leap perfectly. The brunette wraps her legs around VanBuren's midsection while her left arm quickly wraps around the champ's neck. VanBuren, supporting Cynthia's weight in addition to having her windpipe severely constricted, looks in immediate distress. Doubled over, it doesn't take long for Baby's face to turn pink, then rosy, her legs growing increasingly unsteady as she tries to push Cynthia off. But Mitchell seems like a pit bull on a t-bone, looking to become a rare multi-time World Champion herself. And when Portia drops to one knee, an important step in that direction seems reached.
And from one knee, Baby sinks to two, her upper body pitching forward as Cynthia's legs and arm FLEEEEEEEEEEEEX with all their might. Unfortunately for the Cynful One, VanBuren's weight growing increasingly dead and pressing down on her starts to push Mitchell's back flat against the mat.
ONE...
TWO...
THNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!
Cynthia releases both the scissors and the choke, sending VanBuren flopping to her back with a shove. Rolling away from the champion, Cynthia climbs to her feet, and shakes a few lingering cobwebs away as she sinks into a crouch. Fortune's Favorite, meanwhile, reaches for the ropes and starts to pull herself up to wobbly legs. The middle Mitchell's eyes momentarily meet her baby sister's, before Cynthia begins to stomp the canvas, loading up her boot for a superkick. The Cynful One's version might not be the match-ender that Skylar's had proven to be so far, but it should still be good enough to knock Portia into next week--or, at the very least, into the near corner.
But luck seems to be on VanBuren's side as instead of turning to eat shoe leather at incredible speed, she starts to slip through the ropes for a little timeout. Unfortunately for Baby, Baby Mitchell is directly in front of her exit, Skylar having hopped up to the apron. Her head and torso through the ropes, Portia looks up to see what's blocking her way and Skye NAILS the FAWN legend with a knee to the jaw that snaps Portia's noggin back with violent force. Having returned VanBuren's earlier favor to her, Skye smirks toward her sister. "You're welcome," she mouths. And a 'thank you' is well-deserved when Portia stumbles back into the ring, turning into another head-snapping collision. Cynthia's superkick hits flush and Baby straightens like a board before timbering to her back, seemingly out cold.
And having received a helping hand from one sister, Cynthia soon finds herself aided by the other, Sophie sliding a steel folding chair underneath the bottom rope and into the ring. "Take it home, Cyn," the tall blonde says, and receives a nod in response from her middle sister. Grabbing a handful of hair, the Cynful One yanks Portia up to trembling legs, Van Buren held stooped, her arms hanging in front of her as the challenger starts to guide her toward the chair. To her credit, Baby attempts to land a swooping right hand to the middle Mitchell's midsection, but the punch comes up almost comically empty. Still, that seems to serve as Cynthia's cue to shove VanBuren's head between her thighs, clamping down with a standing headscissors--one that leaves Fortune's Favorite staring down at a LOT of silver metal, whether she realizes it or not. Grinning, the challenger leans forward to underhook VanBuren's arms, preparing a Drop Out that would almost certainly make the Cynful One a two-time champion.
But before Mitchell can strike the fateful blow, Lyle's baby girl shrieks to life, her arms wrapping around a startled Cynthia's thighs. Lifting the challenger with a loud grunt, the blonde sends the middle Mitchell up and over with a back body drop, Cyn's spine colliding with the thinly-covered plywood with a THUMP. Outside, Cynthia's siblings grimace in disappointment, their sister so close to being FAWN's reigning queen and taking it from the organization's queen bytch. On the other side, Alexis sighs with relief while Rachel makes a mental note, her clipboard gone. VanBuren is on one knee after her supreme effort, trying to regain more of her senses before she takes up more of the fight.
Cynthia, on the other hand, has used the ropes to pull herself up to BOTH knees, Portia' backdrop hurtful--but not debilitating, thanks at least to the Cynful One's back missing the folding chair. Mitchell hauls herself up to her feet just as Fortune's Favorite pushes off her knee, rising up to a wobbly base--and with her back turned to the Cynful One. Sensing perhaps one last, best opportunity to assert permanent control on this contest, Cynthia shoves away from the ropes, racing toward her opponent as Baby turns around. Drawing close, the middle Mitchell leaps toward her foe, reaching an arm across VanBuren's chest to try to grab her shoulder, aiming to subject Portia to some steel-reinforced Carolina Blues.
CAROLINA BLUES:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=U2tn1-20BAc
But Portia proves to be more ready than Mitchell suspects, for when she leaps to wrap an arm around the blonde's head and DRIVE her into the steel, Portia intercepts the airborne brunette out in front of her. Catching Cynthia across her right shoulder, Baby counters the Blues into a powerslam straight onto the folded metal of the chair, a loud CLANG reverberating through the arena as Mitchell seems to explode in a spasm, her back arching wildly. The crowd groans and watches aghast as a kneeling Baby forces her foe flat and covers Mitchell in a lateral press, hooking both legs of the brunette and drawing her challenger into a tight cradled ball, Cynthia resting on her shoulders, ass pointed to the rafters.
ONE...
"CHAIR!" Sophie shouts, extending a finger to point out that her sister's shoulders currently rested not against the canvas, but the metallic seat pan of the folding chair. But either the referee doesn't notice, or perhaps simply doesn't care.
TWO...
Sophie grabs the middle rope, placing a knee on the apron as she moves to enter the ring. Skylar is close on her heels, but it proves abundantly clear that NEITHER Mitchell would be quick enough to prevent the...
THRENOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
"Gyyyuunnnnnnhhhhhhh..." the Cynful One moans, thrusting a balled fist heavenward and lifting her shoulder off the mat... er, chair.
Baby turns on the Mitchells in the peanut gallery. "Keep you noses out of VanBuren business. Or you may lose them." Portia glances at her Associates and nods, both Rachel and Alexis hopping to the apron but remaining outside the ropes. Cynthia's sisters do the same, each side preparing for war. But the inside of the squared circle is the only location where the conflict is active and Portia drags a dazed Cynthia to her feet with a handful of dark locks. Immediately, the slender socialite takes off for the ropes behind her and rebounds at a breakneck pace. And doing some breaking seems to be Portia's plan as she raises a boot toward Cynthia's chin, hoping to snap her challenger with a Yakuza Kick.
[b}YAKUZA KICK:[/b]
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_QXJ5rGs1Wg
And from the end of one exquisitely shapely leg, Portia's boot SLAMS in underneath Cynthia's jaw, the Yakuza finding its mark with chilling precision. Cynthia wheels to the side, completing one full revolution and half of a second before she pitches forward--a series of movements so swift that most observers probably missed the Cynful One's eyes rolling back in her head. As she topples to the canvas, Mitchell's arms barely even more to break her fall, Cynthia left in a starfish on her belly, her right cheek pressed against the mat, lips pursed as the softest of groans push past them.
VanBuren skids to a stop and blows a kiss at the Mitchell clan on the outside. She turns and strides to Cynthia, scraping her off the canvas and bullying her into the Associates corner. Placing her hands on either of Mitchell's hips, Portia launches the Carolina Cutie up to a seat on the top rope just off the buckles and climbs next to her, sitting on the opposite corner cables. Standing, she corrals Mitchell's noggin in her grip, yanking it into a front facelock while precariously balancing, readying a leap off the strand and a delivery of her signature Soho Uh-Oh, a prelude to closing time in old Manhattan.
SOHO UH-OH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=2NrZ0nfiK-I&feature=channel_page
Thinks look bleak for the Cynful One as Portia works her way to a seated perch on the top rope... but as Baby reaches for her noggin, Cynthia manages to sling a punch into VanBuren's abdomen. The blow doesn't do much more than knock a gasp out of Fortune's Favorite, but it DOES slow her down...
... which allows Mitchell to land a second, harder punch. And THIS punch rocks the slender socialite backward, Portia's eyes widening in alarm as she can feel herself starting a dangerous tumble off the top rope and all the way down to the concrete floor. One of VanBuren's arms windmills in an effort to stabilize herself, but the other does a far more effective job of doing so when she grabs Cynthia's shoulder. Still, the middle Mitchell is ready to throw a THIRD punch...
... when Portia's previously flailing hand flashes to Cynthia's eyes, raking across the challenger's peepers and forcing a shriek from the Cynful One. As Mitchell's hand involuntarily moves to rub away the burn from her eyes, VanBuren secures Cynthia's head and snatches that wrist. The rest is academic, Baby leaping from the middle rope and nearly snapping Mitchell's neck as the duo plummet to earth. Cynthia hits the mat with a loud 'THOONK!' and a dull groan, arms and legs splayed, her eyelids lowering halfway as she looks up at the rafters.
VanBuren sits up, a look of relief as much as satisfaction on her face. She shrugs at her Associates and they stand down, literally. Hopping to the floor. Baby snuggles in behind Cynthia, lifting the brunette to a wobbly seat in front of her. "Enjoy," Baby says to Sophie and Skylar as she drops to her side behind the dazed challenger, quickly scissoring Mitchell's left leg and widening it from Cyn's crotch with both of her own stems. On the other side of Cynthia's torso, Portia grabs Mitchell's opposite leg and begins to draw it in the opposite direction, violently forcing Cynthia into a set of splits Janel Manning would be more than proud of, Portia planning on 'Stretching a Buck' all the way to victory.
STRETCHING A BUCK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=BcgDGJvz9GM&list=PL6D543E88E233B021&index=8
As soon as Cynthia finds her gams being forced apart, she snaps back to wide-eyed life with a howl and a whimper. But when the referee asks if she wants to call it a night, the middle Mitchell shakes her head. Out on the floor, Sophie and Skylar both slap the apron, imploring their sister to fight her way out. Unfortunately, the Cynful One was almost dead set in the center of the ring, no ropes even close to within her reach--and with her legs tied up, there was no way she could try to scoot on her tush without possibly tearing her hamstrings. Which was something Portia didn't need much help in doing. More distressingly, Baby's posture makes it difficult for Cynthia to employ her elbows, at least where she can get any mustard on the shots. The best she can manage is to ball a fist, awkwardly reaching back to aim punches just above VanBuren's hip, Cynthia unsure of how many she could hope to land before the agony in her legs grew too great.
Unlike most trust fund Babies, Portia is willing to take some pain for her gain and she grits her way through the balled fists for ten even fifteen seconds. But Cynthia, knowing world title fights come once in a blue moon, seems determined not to capitulate and VanBuren decides this buck has been stretched far enough. She releases her scissors and rolls away from the rest of her hold, Skye clapping enthusiastically for her sister. Portia strides by and kicks the ropes in front of the noob. "Shut it, kid. It's only getting worse." Portia yanks an aching Mitchell to her feet and draws the limping Cyn to a neutral corner, taking the inside on her foe. VanBuren hops to the middle ropes, her hands deep in the dark locks of Cynthia. Having a little fun at Mitchell's expense now, she stuffs the contender's face into her crotch for a little added humiliation before preparing to vault off and ride Cynthia to the mat before delivering her Boob Job.
BOOB JOB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=DJs-L1k19lU
Five seconds of face-scrubbing is followed by about one second of freedom as Portia pushes Cynthia's head away--and that one second proves too little time to respond before Fortune's Favorite leaps from the second rope, her weight forcing the Cynful One to her back, Portia's virtually flawless backside slamming HEAVILY down atop the middle Mitchell's bust. As Cynthia is left mewling and rocking weakly side to side, VanBuren bounces off her foe and to her knees, the slender socialite meeting the narrowed eyes of Sophie Mitchell with a smirk. "Admit it, bytch. You're just a tad jealous, aren't you?" The eldest Mitchell's cheeks flush, though her expression remains otherwise enraged.
"And now...the coupe de grace," Portia adds with a smirk and a wink. "I finish the best of your breed." Moving from a forward facing kneeling straddle, Baby rotates to a reverse, her undercarriage hovering over the dazed Mitchell. The blonde reaches forward to collect the brunette's legs behind the knees and pulls them back with her as she puts her flawless derriere in reverse, starting to matchbook Mitchell. Alexis cheers her boss loudly as VanBuren's dollar sign lowers toward Cynthia's face, Mitchell's wide-eyed features about to become the Queen's throne, Baby preparing to ride her Portia 911 to victory.
Cynthia's hips begin to buck even before Portia settles heavily atop her mug, but Baby will NOT be dislodged--even when the middle Mitchell's thrashing grows MORE pronounced, thanks to the talons that plunge into her defenseless nether regions. VanBuren responds to the increasing protests by rising up ever so slightly--not nearly enough to allow fresh air in for the Cynful One, but enough to allow Fortune's Favorite to roughly bounce her rump off Cynthia's face, again and again, her fingers continuing to torture Mitchell's kitty. On the floor, Sophie reaches for the middle rope... but her fingers barely manage to clasp around the cable when Cynthia starts slapping the mat.
The referee instantly calls for the bell and the PA makes his announcement, proclaiming Portia the victor and still World Champion. But it's all background noise as Baby begins thrusting forward and back across Cynthia's face, her breathing getting choppy as she stares down at both Sophie and Skylar. "And admit it," Portia huffs as she heaves, "you really wanted to do this too...both of you."
Van Buren continues to glide her nethers across Cynthia's features as the vanquished's arms fall flat at her sides, Portia letting her demolished foe's legs unfold, the blonde placing her palms atop Cynthia's bosom as her ride becomes quicker.
"You... you sick BYTCH!" Skylar snaps, then dives under the bottom rope. Sophie curses under her breath--even with Portia currently... ummm... preoccupied, she had to wonder how ready to tangle with a FAWN Original like VanBuren her baby sister actually is. As Skye scrambles to her feet, the eldest Mitchell slides in after her. While it might be too late to save the match, together they at least had a shot of allowing Cynthia to leave her tonight with her dignity.
And like mirror images behind Portia instead of in front, Raker and Suguitan are up and entering. They slide through and rush at the Mitchell interlopers, Raker toward Sophie and Alexis toward Skylar, arms drawn in clotheslines. As the foursome head toward each other, Baby realizes she won't be able to varnish Cynthia tonight and, as much a disappointment as it is, she glides to a halt, a case of blue bayou sending a shudder up her spine as she rises to her knees unfulfilled. "Sisters," she hisses, as Alexis and Rachel race by on either side toward their targets.
Fortunately for Sophie and Skylar, the eldest and youngest Mitchell sisters demonstrate some sisterly telepathy, both ducking the would-be scythes at practically the same instant--and, more impressively, both stopping on a dime just on the other side of their attackers. As Rachel comes to a halt, Sophie abruptly wheels back toward the legal eagle, her elbow cocked, looking to land a Death Blow to the back of Raker's skull.
DEATH BLOW:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=U_697zjPNEc )
Skye, meanwhile, waits for Alexis to turn--and when she does, a kick to the side of the head whips Suguitan to her right, sending the Filipino beauty staggering into the ropes. The Li'l Mitchell then turns and resumes her race into the far cables, leaping onto the middle rope just as Alexis rebounds off the strands behind her. Springboarding off the cable, Skylar reaches a hand to grab the back of Suguitan's noggin, aiming to drive her face into the mat with a bulldog.
Sophie's forearm CRACKS into the back of Raker's cranium and the redhead seems to turn to jelly. She flops to the canvas wide-eyed and in no condition to make a closing argument. Skylar, meanwhile, shows herself to be the little acrobat of the clan. And, with Alexis wobbly from the boot to her temple, the Filipino catfighter can't keep track of Skye. The Li’lest Mitchell performs a fly-by, grabbing Alexis head and PLANTING it into the deck with a bulldog as sharp as any long-time veteran. Between the splayed, Associates, Raker face up and Suguitan face down, is a suddenly outnumbered World Champion. Standing in a straddle over the softly stirring Cynthia, Baby holds up her hands plaintively. "Now ladies. The match is over. Let's not do anything we might regret."
Sophie and Skylar continue to advance on the victorious World champion, slowly, deliberately... but still making enough progress that Portia is persuaded to start backpedalling. "I... don't think I'm gonna regret anything about this," the eldest Mitchell muses, before casting a quick, sideways glance toward her baby sis. "What about you, Skye?"
"You kidding?" the Li'lest Mitchell responds. "This might get me and Charlie fast-tracked up here! Having my way with a FAWN legend and all..."
Once VanBuren's feet are clear of Cynthia, Baby turns and starts to dive toward the ropes--but not quickly enough, Sophie's arm lashing out, her fingers slipping into the waistband of the slender socialite's bottoms. For the briefest of moments, Baby manages her best impression of the Coppertone baby as she clings to the cables, but a final, sharp tug turns her and sends her staggering into the clutches of Sophie Mitchell. Those clutches take the form of two hands wrapping around VanBuren's throat, the eldest Mitchell ready to HEAVE Baby aloft, then DRIVE her to the mat via a choke bomb.
CHOKE BOMB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=SzcW5uXJ-gc
The bigger, blonde powerhouse of the Mitchell house dips and heaves a panicked Portia HIGH into the air, Van Buren's renowned cheeks reaching Sophie's shoulders on the upswing. Unfortunately for Fortune's Favorite, there's also a trip down. Soph sits out and nearly drives Baby THROUGH the canvas, VanBuren's flattened frame bouncing a couple inches off the canvas from the force of the impact between Mitchell's extended legs. A dazed champ gamely tries to rise but can't get past halfway up to sitting, her mind too scrambled and her body too shellshocked.
Sophie glances up at Skylar with a smile. "Want a go?"
"You bet!" the Li'lest Mitchell replied, with a grin that threatened to consume her entire face. Nodding, the eldest Mitchell rolls away from Portia before climbing to her feet, and as Skye saunters over to the splattered socialite, her sister peels Alexis off the canvas, giving her the bum's rush toward the ropes. Skylar gathers up VanBuren's ankles, lifting her succulent stems before starting to push Baby over to her belly, intending to step over and sink into a crouch, the youngest hoping to lock on a decidedly old school Boston crab. And a couple of feet away, the Cynful One struggles up to a seated position, groaning, her woozy head shaking gently side to side.
Sophie runs an unsteady Suguitan to the cables and tosses her over with the skill of a college town bouncer. Sophie brushes her hands together and moves toward a rising Raker to do the same with VB&A's lead counsel. Meanwhile, the rook has FAWN's most hated in a dazed single file in front of her, Portia's arms raised above her head, the blonde in a stupor courtesy Sophie. Skye doesn't have a problem with sloppy seconds if it means PPV air-time with Portia and she spins VanBuren to her chest, settling into a deep crouch over Baby and bending Portia's spine in an agonizing bow that brings Portia back to life with a yelp and a curse. "AHHH...BRAT...I'm going to...".
Skylar leans back all the more, then tears the roof off when she drops into a bridge, bringing Portia's legs with her, damn near touching VanBuren's heels to the back of her head. Portia wildly slaps the mat, screaming as she taps. "Let go...GAWWWD...STAHHHP."
The LAST thing Skye wanted to do was give Portia the satisfaction, but truth be told, this bridge COULDN'T be held for very long by Domi Daly, let alone her. And, grudgingly, the Li'lest Mitchell releases Portia's ankles and rolls to her side, breaking the crab. As Fortune's Favorite is left writhing on the canvas, massaging the small of her back with one hand, Sophie gives Cynthia a helping hand back to her feet.
"Sorry, Cyn," the tall blonde sighed, but her sister waves off any attempt at apology.
"Can't win the match now," Cynthia mutters, before her expression brightens slightly, and she motions Skylar over to join them. "But we can still make a mark."
The sisters Mitchell gather into a huddle, their heads bobbing as plans are made and strategies discussed. When they break, the Cynful One marches over to Portia's head, gathering up a handful of hair and stuffing VanBuren's skull between her thighs. Just as she had done moments before, Cynthia then begins to underhook Baby's arms--only this time, Sophie takes hold of the champion's ankles, lifting her legs into the air. There'd be no backdrop, this time...
But what of Skylar?
The Li'l Mitchell backs up, creating as much space as she can between her and the suspended socialite. The youngest Mitchell then launches into a sprint toward Portia, leaping into the air, ready to land on VanBuren's back--and, from their, fly to the top rope and springboard back off the top rope in a moonsault that would make this possibly the most emphatic Drop Out of all time.
The Mitchells work seamlessly while Portia's Associates struggle to regain their senses on the outside. As for Portia, she's on the raised altar ready to be sacrificed for a Mitchell Family PPV grand finale that would likely be remembered longer than VanBuren having retained. As the veteran sisters have Portia set up like a bowling pin, Skye KNOCKS the sinister socialite DOWN. Gracefully, she backflips from her springboard and lands across the back of the groaning, pleading Portia DROPPING HER OUT face and chest first to the canvas, consciousness caving an instant after impact, the crowd roaring at the sight of the three Mitchells laying waste to the woman who ruled but could not make them bow.
It's a very tempting thought for Cynthia, to roll Portia over and repay not just the 911, but the Bare Ass Market before it. But Alexis and Rachel were FAR too dangerous to take her sister's best efforts to keep them at bay being successful for granted. So the Cynful One rises to her feet and rolls the obliterated champion toward the ropes with a couple of kicks to the ribs. "There," Mitchell snarls, sending Portia dropping to the floor and into the arms of her Associates. "Take that trash back to the dressing room. And know that the NEXT time I get a shot at you, Baby? That belt's gonna be mine again!"