Chapter One: The Rabbit In Red

Afternoon all,

A question I've heard on more than one occasion over the last couple of years is 'where's Emily / when's she going to get back in the ring?'. Well I've always been of the mind that what you see on the board is only a fraction of what actually goes on in the fed, so the Amazing Academic has certainly been active, it's just that her exploits haven't been chronicled in great detail because I hadn't come up with any particularly interesting stories for her. That changes with the story below, the first in what I believe will be a seven part series. With luck there'll be a new installment each month and when it's over she'll probably head back to Orlando proper on a regular basis. Hell, she might do that before this arc is over, she is the Black Queen after all, I'm just the scribe.

Enjoy!

~RF

********

Last November, the night before Thanksgrieving



In a quiet booth near the back of The Slaughtered Lamb, two old friends shared a much older bottle of red wine.



“Your protégé’s earned herself a Main Event tomorrow night. Her second, I believe. A good get at this time of year.”



“It is, though I’d wager her enthusiasm is dampened by the fact that both Burlingame and VanBuren are off defending their respective titles in Japan. And the Raven’s not my protégé, at least not anymore. She’s accomplished too much on her own to be confined by such a label.”



“Still, a Main Event is a Main Event. And while it might not be for a belt, there is a rather valuable prize on the line, if I may say so.”



Her companion smiled slightly. “Fishing for compliments, are we? Now I know why you’re picking up the tab.”



“Hardly. I was simply pointing out that both Lenore and Jenny both thought it something worth fighting for.”



“I’m not disagreeing and I wonder why you think I would. Are you worried I might interfere on Lenore’s behalf?”



“Would you? Either tonight or at Season’s Beatings, if need be?”



“And we go from fishing for compliments to asking dumb questions. My turn then, is it? Who are you facing tomorrow night?”



“As if you don’t already know. Answer my question, Emily.”



EMILY WEST:





Emily West set her glass down and sighed. “Why would I interfere, Sydney? I’ve showed no interest in your retirement tour thus far, why should I start now? But I suppose that disinterest is what brought me here tonight, isn’t it?”



SYDNEY DESCHAIN:





Sydney Deschain poured the other brunette a bit more wine, then freshened her own glass. “I made sure the front office sent open contracts to you from February to November. Ten contracts, Emily. All returned unopened. Since when did I start to bore you?”



The Black Queen swished the contents of her glass, but did not drink. “Interest wasn’t the issue, Sydney. At first I didn’t want to intrude on Sue’s effort. As your victories continued to pile up…. well, no good would come of my playing spoiler, would it?”



Deschain raised an eyebrow. “Spoiler? Need I remind you of our career record?”



“Three all.” West answered automatically. “And not a count out or disqualification among them. Say what you will about us, we know how to finish fights.”



Syd nodded agreement. “Of course. I just don’t understand how Emily West would willingly let any series end in a tie.”



Emily snorted ever so softly. “You know me, Sydney. I adore balance in all things.”



“The f*ck you do. I’ve met MAYBE half a dozen women in my career that enjoy crushing opposition the way you do. Square with me, Em. What’s wrong?”



West sighed again, much heavier this time. “Nothing’s wrong, that’s what’s wrong. The presence of the Court has proven more effective than I’d ever imagined. Everyone is, as much as it disgusts me to say it, behaving themselves. And when the pawns behave themselves there’s no need for a Queen, Black, White or otherwise.”



“You sure about that? Portia and the Associates have been causing all sorts of problems as of late.”



West shrugged. “Acceptable deviations. Ruthless though she may be, Portia is easily placated. Give Baby her gold plated rattle and any tantrums that follow are dealt with quickly enough.”



Deschain leaned back in the booth and studied the other woman. After a moment, she said, “Just so we’re clear, the reason you’ve wrestled less than a dozen times after dropping the title is because things are… too quiet?”



“What can I say?” West sounded more depressed than ever. “I thrive on Gordian Knots. And FAWN is disgustingly smooth as of late.”



Sydney thought this over, tapping an index finger against the tabletop. “Are you going to let your contract run out?”



“Lord no.” Emily shook her head emphatically. “Even outside the ring I’ve found plenty to occupy my mind in the front office. Christian will never admit it of course, but most of the financial gains FAWN’s made in the last six months are due to some modifications to the business model.”



“Modifications you suggested?”



“Suggested, designed and implemented.” the Amazing Academic confirmed. “Perhaps not as exhilarating as stamping Kylie’s face into the bottom turnbuckle, but satisfying nonetheless.”



“And you’re telling me boosting our presence in China by thirty percent is more thrilling than stepping through those ropes every night?”



Emily rolled her eyes. “Weren’t you listening? Of course not. But there’s no endgame, Sydney. There’s no checkmate. And chess without checkmate isn’t chess at all. It’s just… moving pieces on a board.”



“Maybe it’s not a new board you need.” Deschain murmured. “Maybe its new pieces.”



Emily looked up, seemingly interested for the first time that evening. “Explain.”



“Simple enough. If there’s not enough chaos here in Orlando, go find some and sort it out.”



“And how do you suggest I do that? FAWN’s not known for lending their talent long-term, save for the occasional Japanese tour. And none of our Eastern affiliates is exactly crumbling from within.”



“Let me answer with a question of my own. Do you really think ‘retirement’ is enough to keep me out of the ring for very long?”



The Black Queen offered a genuine smile. “Of course not. Forty is the new twenty, after all.”



Syd answered the smile with one of her own. “That it is. Truth is, I COULD use some time off the day to day grind, but I didn’t want to sign a Legends contract either. If I did that they’d drag me out three or four times a year to do battle with whatever slice of bikini meat they’d just served up from Albuquerque or Bangor. No, I want to wrestle, but on my own terms.”



“And you’re doing that by….”



“Talent scout. They give me a list of names, I pick a few and head out to their home promotion. Sometimes it’s just to watch. Sometimes I do more than watch. Example. Just three months back I was on a beach in San Diego wrestling a girl on a beach. She’s a bit of a nympho and has apparently never seen a Suplex before, but she’s also ridiculously flexible and even more marketable, if she can learn to control her baser urges. The front office has dozens of names on file at any given time, ask for a list, pick the ones that strike you as most worthy and go take a road trip.”



Emily sat up a little straighter, intrigued by the possibilities raised by this new set of questions. “These scouting matches, did you wrestle incognito? If so, how’d you manage it?”



“Sometimes I did. Sometimes I didn’t. In San Diego I gave my first name and that was all. Didn’t matter, to be honest. Chick knew who I was but most of the crowd was so drunk they settled for calling me the ‘Hot Cougar’. Not my favorite nickname, but it was entertaining to watch a woman almost twenty years my junior fume as her fans started cheering for me.”



“You sat on her face, didn’t you?”



“Bendy little bytch went under my trunks, Em. Sitting on her face was just the beginning.”



Emily steepled her fingers beneath her chin, the super computer of her mind now fully devoted to this new game. “A Queen, disguised as a pawn, goes out into the hinterlands to see if she can survive, no, thrive, without the comforts and security of her Court. I’ll need an alias… a cover story… new gear… perhaps a haircut?” Em snapped her fingers, scooped up her glass and drained it in a single long sip. Then she slid out of the booth and laid down more than enough money to cover the bottle.



“Put that away, West. Your money’s no good here.”



“Nonsense, it’s the least I can do, considering. But if you’re dead set on paying, stuff that in Vale’s tip jar. I’m sure she’ll have no qualms about taking it.” She nodded, turned to leave, then stopped and turned again. “Thank you, Sydney. Tonight has been most illuminating.”



Syd raised her glass to the Black Queen. “Go get ‘em, your highness.”



Emily West stepped out into the cool evening to do just that.



Several months later…



A woman calling herself Ashley Waite followed a large man through a narrow service corridor in the back of a sports bar that was just about to get noontime busy. The woman was Emily West, now sporting a messy bob in a brown so light it might’ve been blonde in certain conditions. The man was Sam Loomis. In another life he’d terrorized much of the Midwest as a psychopath in a surgical mask known as ‘the Doctor’. Rumor claimed he was one of Celia Blassenville’s childhood heroes. Now Loomis was the proprietor of The Rabbit in Red, a cozy little sports bar tucked away in the town of Russellville, about three hours outside Chicago.



Neither Ashley Waite nor Emily West had traveled to Illinois for hot wings and cheap draught beer however. Every Thursday night the Rabbit cleared out several high tops and replaced them with a sturdy, inflatable ring which was then filled with several dozen gallons of high grade Illinois mud. The quality of competition at these weekly cards proved of a much higher caliber than the usual nightclub slop fest. Indeed, one of the house regulars displayed enough innate talent to catch the eye of a wandering FAWN scout, who just happened to be in the area visiting relatives.



Emily read the initial report and decided there was something to it.



Ashley showed up three days later and said she was looking for a fight.



Loomis cleared his throat and knocked on a door, startling Em from her inspection of the myriad framed pictures that lined the walls. Cracking it ever so slightly, Loomis leaned in close (without peeking, she noted with some satisfaction) and asked, “It’s Sam, Bernie. You decent?”



“Hardly ever.” came a voice from the other side. “But I am dressed. What’s up Doc?”



Loomis opened the door wider but didn’t step through. Rather he moved his not small frame aside and motioned the visitor forward. “A friend of a friend is passing through and she tells me she’s looking to work out some aggression with the best mud wrestler I got. Seein’ as how that’s you, I figured you could chat with her and see if she can cut it in the Pit.”



He glanced at Emily again and smiled ever so faintly. The friend of a friend happened to be Kent Allard, who’d let Sam know there was going to be a FAWN scout in attendance sooner than later. He’d left out the part about the scout just happening to be a former World Champion with more than notes on her mind.



Emily stepped through the door and found herself looking at a young woman of perhaps twenty six, with dark hair, dark eyes and a complexion Gordy Sollis would’ve described as ‘café au lait’ in his charmingly lecherous way. Em thought they were the same height, but Loomis’s diamond in the rough had at least five and perhaps as many as ten pounds on her and it was all muscle. She guessed there was soccer in her background, perhaps cross country as well.



BERNICE ‘BERNIE’ HANLON:





“Bernice Hanlon, this is Ashley Waite. Ashley Waite, this is Bernice Hanlon. Now that we’ve had introductions all round, I’ll leave you ladies to discuss whatever’s on your mind. But I’ll come back in a little while to see if there’s gonna be a match tonight. Play nice now, understood?”



“Get outta here Doc,” Bernice rolled her eyes. “You’ll have an answer soon enough.” Loomis nodded and eased himself out the door, closing it with a quiet ‘shoomp’. “Bernice.” the younger woman stepped forward, offering her hand to Emily. “My friends call me Bernie.”



West returned the handshake without hesitation. “Ashley. My friends mostly call me… Ashley, actually. And what can I call you?”



Hanlon gave her an intrigued smile. “Guess that depends on how this conversation plays out.” She looked the newcomer up and down, not blatantly, but not entirely subtle either. Em figured that was the point. “Mind if I ask you a question, Ashley?”



“Ask two, even.”



Hanlon snorted. “I’ve been here about three years now, which is practically a lifetime in terms of how fast the Rabbit turns over wrestlers. In those three years I’ve come to realize there are only about three types of girls who show up for Thursday nights. The first is your garden variety spring breaker, already drunk more likely than not, and not good for more than some slap and tickle bullshyt. The second’s a gym rat, well built and able to go the distance, but more interested in rolling around as long as they can to improve their cardio and tease the drunks into buying them round after round of Mich Ultra.”



Emily smiled at that, she rather enjoyed Bernice’s judge of character. “And the third?” she asked.



“Closet sadist, looking to offload some aggression on some poor sorority chick who doesn’t know what she’s in for a world of hurt. But you don’t strike me as any of those, Ashley. So who are you?”



“Someone who found her boyfriend of five years doing unpleasant things with her yoga instructor after hours.” Emily was almost surprised how easily the lie rolled off her lips. “Afterward I learned to love my new gym and she learned the value of respecting personal space. I also learned I enjoyed physical competition of a more… direct nature.”



“And your boyfriend?”



“Oh, he learned the truth of the old saying, Hell hath no fury. I hope it serves him well, wherever he is.” Emily tilted her head to one side, making no effort to hide her own appraising glance. “What about you, Bernice? You’re clearly not on spring break, you spend plenty of time in the gym, but seem confident enough to buy your own drinks and you don’t strike me as a sadist. So what type are you?”



Bernie Hanlon grinned. “The type who’s gonna pay off a metric f*ck ton of student loans in a third of the time by pinning girls in the mud every week.”



Em nodded in understanding. The Miskatonic AHW scene had been quite handy in helping pay off her own debts. “So what do you say, Bernice? Am I the kind of girl you’d like to try to pin down in the Pit?”



“No try about it, Ashley. I WILL pin you down if we climb in there. Whether we will or won‘t, that’s up to you. Think you can follow those rules?” She pointed to a comically official looking sign that’d been tacked to the wall of the locker room. It read:



PIT RULES:



1) STAY OFF THE EYES!

No poking, raking, gouging or mud tossing! Offenders will be banned!



2) NO CLOSED FISTS!

Except to the stomach, if agreed upon by both wrestlers in advance.



3) WRESTLE UNTO OTHERS AS YOU WOULD HAVE THEM WRESTLE UNTO YOU!

Translation: Fight like a bytch, get treated like a bytch!



West shifted her attention from the poster to Bernice. “Eye raking is cheap and dangerous. I don’t need to punch your belly, but I will wrap my legs around it and squeeze. And if you want to slap and tickle, we can do that. If you want to WRESTLE, that‘s what I‘d prefer.”



Bernice smiled again, a feisty, competitive expression. “I was hoping you‘d say that, Ash. You’re a helluva lot tougher than most of the girls that strut through those doors and I’ve been looking for a challenge for months. Count me as looking forward to pinning your ankles over your ears and pointing your pert little ass toward the lights until you holler uncle!”



Emily matched her grin, she loved battling a confident adversary. “We’ll see who’s hollering uncle, honey. Rule two says I can’t punch your ass. There’s nothing there keeping me from spanking it.”



The mud wrestler stepped forward and Emily did the same, cutting the distance between them to less than a foot. “Pretty confident for a cougar strutting through unexplored territory.”



Emily arched an eyebrow. “A cougar at thirty-five? I do believe I’ll wash your mouth out with mud, little girl.”



“Oooohhhh, I’m gonna LOVE whoopin’ you, Ash.” Hanlon extended her hand. West took it and squeezed just a bit harder than necessary. Bernie squeezed back, broke away and sidled past her opponent to open the door. “HEY DOC, YOU AROUND?” she shouted.



After a moment, a door near the other end of the hall opened as well. “YUP. WHAT’S THE WORD?”



“FIGHT’S ON! I’LL GET HER A LOCKER.”



Loomis bellowed a happy reply, then went back to what sounded like a kitchen running at full bore.



Bernie turned back to the newcomer and she was still smiling. “Hope you brought a sturdy bikini, Ashley. I’m gonna put some hard miles on it. And you.”



“I got no problems with hard miles, Bernice. You’re the one who’s gonna have to pick mud out of her teeth.”



“I can’t wait to kick your ass, darling.”



“I can’t wait to school yours, princess.”



That evening, Fight Night…



The Rabbit’s ‘ring’ was about half the size of FAWN’s squared circle, but it wasn’t so small it limited the wrestler’s mobility, Emily noted approvingly as she leaned against the soft edges of her corner. On the opposite side, Bernie Hanlon chatted up some regulars and offered up a brawny bicep flex for a picture with a dude-bro in a Bears hat. ‘Ashley’ had interacted with a few of them as well, though she’d kept it brief to minimize the chance of someone blowing her cover. She was just beginning to wonder when things would get underway when the music died down and microphone assisted voice bellowed, “All right people, it’s time for our Main Event and do we have a treat for you tonight! First up, a brand new lady steps into the Mud Pit to test her mettle! She’s got a huge challenge ahead of her so everybody put your hands together and give a warm welcome to Ashley!”



Emily stepped out of the corner, raised her hand in a wave and turned in a circle, allowing the raucous crowd to take in her sturdy black & white checkered bikini bottoms and matching top. The reaction was damned great considering it was her first appearance, of course with curves like hers it wasn’t hard to understand the cheers. Intrigued by the possibility of getting a few more on her side, she leveled a smirk at the other brunette and called out, “Hear that, sweetheart? They love me! And they’ll love me even more when I’m sticking your face in the mud!”



‘OOOOOHHHHHHHH’S!’ from those within earshot followed by cheers, just as West had hoped. She would’ve kept at it if the DJ hadn’t interrupted. “STRONG words from the newcomer, folks! But I bet her opponent’s got other things in mind! Isn’t that right, Bernice!?”



Bernie, looking resplendent and strong in a zappy peach colored two-piece, nodded and offered Em a good look at another double bicep flex. “Welcome to the gun show, new meat!” she taunted. “Hope you got enough firepower in that wonder bra to make this a fight before I blow you away!”



Em traced her fingers across the top of her cleavage and ‘flicked’ a non existent mist of sweat in her rival’s direction.



“DAMN, this is gonna be fun!” the DJ shouted as Bernice and ‘Ashley’ eyed one another from across the pool of ankle deep mud. “Any words for your opponent before I ring the bell.”



“Damn right I do!” Bernice called over the general clamor. “But I ain’t about to waste a shout on this bytch!” She stomped and splattered her way over to Emily, then leaned in and snatched a handful of hair! Emily hissed and raised her hands to grip the younger woman’s shoulders, but held off on any other retaliation when she heard Bernie’s voice whispering in one ear. “Talk as much shyt as you can, the regulars love that. Protect your tits because I’m gonna rain hell down on ‘em, but I’m not gonna try to strip you and I’d appreciate it if you did the same. Keep out of my bottoms and we can still be friends after this match. Shove me away and call me a bytch if you understand.”



West tightened her hold on those strong brown shoulders and shoved, not hard enough to put Bernice on her ass, just enough to send her staggering back accompanied by a few ‘ooooohhh’s’ from the regulars. Those ‘oooohh’s’ became ‘OOOOOHH’s’ when Emily snapped, “Take your threats and shove ‘em, bytch! Better yet, try repeating them when I’m motorboating you to sleep!”



Bernice showed her an angry snarl, but the glint in her eye let West know she was on the right track. Leaning forward slightly, the incognito Queen smacked both hands against her spring-tanned thighs, then beckoned the house champion forward. “C’mon cutie, don’t you wanna know what this mud tastes like?”



“Not before you find out what my ass tastes like, sugar.”



Even more cheers when Hanlon came forward and buried one hand in West’s hair. True to her word, she cupped her free mitt over Em’s right breast and squeezed hard. Not Miriam or Portia hard, mind you. But more than enough to let Emily know she meant business. In the next instant Bernice pressed on, forcing the other brunette to give ground en route to the nearest wall. Em was certain she could’ve dug in both heels and fought her opponent to a stalemate, yet she allowed Bernice to control the opening skirmish to get a better handle on her strengths and weaknesses.



First impression, Bernice Hanlon was exceptionally strong for a Lightweight, if the way she bulled Emily across the pit on a stern diagonal was any indication. Second impression, the girl was directing her foe to the corner, meaning she had a better grip on strategy than your typical mud wrestler. Aware that she was rapidly running out of maneuvering room, Emily twisted her hips at the last second, thus forcing Hanlon to THUMP her back into the side of the pit rather than the corner itself. Third impression, Hanlon clearly had a plan and knew several different ways to make it--CRAAACK!



West’s cataloguing broke off mid-thought when Bernice cupped her left hand and delivered a smooth Overhead Slap. The echo of it reverberated throughout the Rabbit, ensuring that Bernice snatched a handful of dark hair and cranked it back hard. “Like gettin’ these sloppy titties mauled, sugar?” Bernie chided after her second slap left matching welts on her opponent’s décolletage. She pressed in against Emily tummy to tummy and palmed both of the FAWNer’s breasts for good measure. “Better get used to the pain, you’ll be feeling it all night!”



‘Night’ was still on her lips when Bernice moved her hands north for a double handful of hair. Then she took two giant steps backward, torqued her hips and slung Emily out into the wider reaches of the mud pit. It wasn’t a Beal Toss but West understood it was meant to send her sprawling into the mud, which was why she took certain pleasure in straightening up after a few wobbly steps. Taking care to keep her hands out of the mud, she turned back to Bernice and made a show of ‘snapping’ her black & white checkered briefs against her hips. “So do all the sophomores fight like you?” she said with an arrogant (and hopefully infuriating) smirk. “Or are you the best the High School has to offer?”



Hanlon flashed her a hard smile. Good, she figured that’d make the younger woman’s next approach a bit stiffer. “Keep runnin’ that mouth and I’ll go full varsity on your ass, sweetheart.”



Emily feigned a yawn, put a hand over her mouth. “Sure you will. I’ll make a deal with you, little girl. Climb out of this pit right now and maybe, just maybe I won’t bend you over my knee for the spanking you so clearly deserve!”



THAT got a riotous reaction from the Rabbit regulars, with half of them wanting to see the newcomer carry through on the gaudy threat while the other half clamored Bernice to slap her silly. Excellent. If her opponent and the crowd were fired up it was far less likely someone would recognize--



Emily spun to one side just in time to avoid the abrupt lunge from Bernice. Dropping to one knee as Hanlon hit the brakes, the brunette plunged her hands into the mud, then stood up and ‘SMACKED’ a double-palmed swat against Bernie’s peach bottoms. “Oh NO, what a mess!” West gasped with mock horror. “What’ll you tell the teacher when she asks how you ruined your pretty little NNNNGGGHH!”



Bernice whirled around and clapped Em’s head to one side with a Bytch Slap that got huge cheers from her half of the crowd. “I’ll tell her some mouthy hag wanted to fight and I had to put her EERRRGGGGGGHHH!”



West replied with a backhand, the sort of obnoxious touch she figured someone as grating as Ashley Waite would enjoy. “Helpless little girls shouldn’t talk so much trash.” she taunted. “They’re liable to get their mouths washed out with mud.”



“Let’s see you try, new meat.” Bernice came in fast, lowered a shoulder and stuffed it into Emily’s belly. Letting her feet skid a bit so she didn’t lose her balance, West wrapped her arms around Hanlon’s midsection and almost locked her hands before the other brunette grabbed her ankles and swept both legs! Em went down with a loud ‘PLOP’, landing flat on her back and looking for all the world like someone trying to make a weird snow angel. It wasn’t even sort of the hardest landing she’d ever absorbed, but it stunned her just long enough for Hanlon to straddle her waist and snatch a handful of hair. “Oh no, grandma fell in the mud!” the peach-clad battler chided. “Here, let’s clean you up fast!”



The handful of mud applied to Emily’s face and décolletage was the exact opposite of cleaning and the handful of short punches ’pwakked!’ into her tummy wasn’t much better. “Oh dear, I’m only making it worse!” Bernice bounced the heavy curve of her glutes into Emily’s midsection, driving the air from her lungs. “Let me try this instead!” She SLAPPED both hands down on Emily’s hulking hooters and squeezed until her knuckles turned white. West’s groan of pain wasn’t exaggerated in the slightest, nor was the digging of her heels in the warm, gray mud. “You’re looking kind of winded, Ashley baby.” Bernie teased after several more bounces and just as many squeezes. “Think it’s about time you gave up? If you get cleaned up real quick I’m sure you’d be in time for dinner at the Holiday WHOOOOAAAAAAHH!”



The Amazing Academic kicked her legs up, hooked them over Hanlon’s biceps and sat up, which in turn rolled the younger woman onto her back. Pins weren’t acknowledged in the Mud Pit of course, that was ok though, Em wasn’t looking for a three count. Rather she braced her left arm across the pits of Bernie’s knees, all the better to keep her legs out of the way while West SMACKED her wriggling buns half a dozen time. Shoving Hanlon over onto her tummy once she was satisfied, Emily scrambled onto Bernice’s lower back and palmed her head in both hands. “Have you checked out the mud tonight, cutie? I think it’s just about perfect. What do you think?”



Without waiting for an answer she pulled the younger woman’s head up, then forced it facedown into the glop of their battleground. Bernice groaned, blew bubbles into the muck and braced her hands against the floor of the pit in an attempt to buck the other brunette from her perch. Unfortunately Emily had no intention of letting the mud wrestler off that easy. She scrubbed Hanlon’s pretty face back and forth for several seconds, then jerked her head up and back, letting her suck in several deep breaths. “I know lots of women who’d pay top dollar for that sort of treatment at a spa!” ‘Ashley’ teased her sputtering foe. “Aren’t you lucky yours comes at the low, low price of an ass kicking!”



Bernice swiped a hand across her face, then reached back and grabbed hold of the wrist clutching her hair. “You don’t know anything about high prices, baby girl. Not yet, anyway. Just wait until I’m EERRRGGGHHHUUMMMPPP!”



Emily filled one fist with mud, reached up and mashed it into the vulnerable woman’s mouth, much to the delight of those crowded around the pit. “Mmmmmmhhh,, mmmmmhhh, good, isn’t that TASTY, little girl! All those nutrients ought to stop that prissy little sass mouth of yours!”



Hanlon spat mud, cursed and rose in a near perfect push-up, despite West’s weight bearing down on the small of her back. Once again impressed with the younger woman’s strength, Em grabbed Bernie’s biceps and yanked them out and back. Aside from forcing the brunette back down, it allowed Emily to pull the captured limbs across the strong curves of her thighs. Then she reached down, cupped her hands under Hanlon’s chin and pulled back in a Camel Clutch. She didn’t apply it full strength, West figured such abrupt pain might startle a submission out of the local lass and that didn’t strike her as quite fair. The treatment was far from gentle however, if Bernice’s muttered groans were any indication.



“She’s gonna give up any minute now!” Emily confided to the fans rather than her opponent. “Teenage girls aren’t meant to take this kind of strain, are they sweetheart?”



She jostled Bernice’s head, forcing her to reply with ‘no’. Of course she didn’t have control of Hanlon’s mouth, which allowed the house favorite to growl, “You’ll never make me give up, wonder-bra! You’re not that strNNNNNGGGGGHHH!”



Emily ratcheted up the pressure until Bernice was looking almost straight up and her chest was thrust forward, a visual not lost on the Rabbit’s loyal regulars. “I don’t think you really know how strong I am, Bernice.” Emily noted as the other brunette groaned and squirmed. “Do you want me to show you? Or have you had enough for one night?”



Bernice shook her head ‘no’, this time of her own volition. “Not even, grandma. If this is the best you can do, you might as well give up right now!”



“You ARE bold.” West admitted. “But that can only take you so farWHOOOAAHHH!”



Hanlon wrenched her muddy arms clear of Emily’s knees, grabbed hold of her wrists and broke the Chinlock with a single hard jerk. Spinning around onto her back so she had a better view of her opponent, Bernie snatched a double handful of Emily’s hair and pulled hard right, tossing Em onto her side. West hit on shoulder and hip, rolled onto her tummy and started to rise only for Bernice to TWHAP a huge Double-Handed SMACK down on her back. The stinging blow froze Em’s circuits for a moment, allowing Hanlon to force her down into the yielding mud. “You’re not going anywhere, old lady.” Bernie planted one knee across Emily’s shoulders and another against the small of her back, effectively pinning her in the glop. “It’s time I showed you what these people already know. Girls who come in here mouthin’ off always get their ass WHOOPED!”



The cheers returned louder than ever, especially when Hanlon curled her left hand into a fist and proceeded to PWAK a dozen Hammer Punches into Emily’s undefended buttocks. It wasn’t the sort of tactic that’d get a quick submission, but the Amazing Academic didn’t want to lie there soaking up the sort of shots that could lead to hellacious cramps later on in the match. So she squirmed and wriggled, trying to unseat the younger woman, alas, Bernice Hanlon had plenty of experience controlling unruly challengers on her turf and she did the same to Emily by hooking a hand across her chin and pulling back hard. “You’re not the only one who can stretch a girl’s neck, Ashley.” Bernie said with a thread of steel in her voice. “How do you like it?”



“Errrggggghh… lemme up and I’ll show you.”



“I’ve got a better idea. How about I come down there and crush you out?”



West didn’t much like the sound of that at all, alas she was in no position to stop Hanlon from sliding into a slippery-slug mount atop her lower back. Gripping her foe’s shoulders to make sure she didn’t try to buck free, Bernice stretched out flat, worked her arms under Em’s biceps and laced her hands across the back of her neck in a Full Nelson. Then she rolled over onto her back to pull Emily into her lap and just as quickly ‘smecked’ a Scissors around her waist. The undercover Courtier tried to keep her breathing shallow in anticipation of the first crushing squeeze, but it didn’t come. Instead Bernice rolled forward until they were both seated mostly upright. Another thought flashed through the super computer of Emily’s mind, a warning that seemed to be confirmed by a raucous cheer from the crowd. Bernice smiled at the response and said, “Yeah, you know what’s coming! But I don’t think she does!”



Those Thursday night regulars started calling ‘KEE-STER BOUNCE! KEE-STER BOUNCE!’ which allowed Hanlon a few seconds to whisper in West’s ear. “You still in this fight, baby? I don’t wanna hurt a girl who’s about to break.”



“I came her looking for a fight, kitten.” Emily answered quietly. “So give me your best and I’ll give you mineWHOAAAAHHH NNNNGGGGHHHH!”



Bernice rocked onto her back, pulled Emily into her lap and let her hang there for a couple of seconds before THWHAPPING her buns into the mud. It wasn’t nearly as much padding as you might’ve guessed, a fact West discovered when a jolt of pain ran from her tailbone all the way to her shoulders. Emily’d endured this particular maneuver more than enough to know that it always came in sets and sure enough, Hanlon repeated it time and again, each damp glute-on-glop THWHAP echoing through the confines of the Rabbit in Red.



After more than half a dozen impacts, Bernice broke the Nelson and shifted her hands so that the left cupped Emily’s right breast and the right covered the left. “Pretty firm boobs for a cougar!” Bernice said in the midst of stereo squeezes. “Almost no sag at all!”



“Ok, now you’re asking for it, little girl.” Emily snapped. “Keep talking like that and I’ll GGGRRRRHHHHH!”



Hanlon clamped down again, then worked the captured juggs up n’ down, much to the delight of those assembled. “C’mon, give up, granny!” Bernice taunted. “This sort of strain’s gonna have these things hanging down between your knees before OOOOFFFFFFFFHHH!”



Emily grabbed her attacker behind the knees, pushed up as high as she could and threw them both backward to THWHUMP Bernice between her back and the mud. Both Scissors and Claw loosened to almost nothing, giving Emily more than enough slack to slither around belly to belly with the stunned battler. The thought of a Double Leg Grapevine briefly crossed her mind, however Emily dismissed it in a favor of a different strategy. Filling her hands with Hanlon’s dark hair, the Black Queen pushed to her knees and forced the younger woman to do the same. “You wanna see strain, little girl?” Em purred. “Lets see how your tits hold up against the crush.”



Looping her arms around Bernie’s waist, Emily drew her close and started to squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeze, just crushing the brown-skinned battler against her championship curves in a brawny Bear Hug. Hanlon groaned loudly and shook her head ‘no’, prompting one fan in the first row to shout, “Don’t give up, Bern, you got this! Yours are better any day of the week!”



Emily usually didn’t take her eyes off a match once it had begun, for that however, she made an exception. “Let’s not go overboard.” she told the surprised dope. “Girl’s well equipped, but there’s a reason her top is getting crushed against her sternERRRRGGHHH!”



The local lass reached up, filled her hands with Em’s muddied locks and wrenched her head from side to side. “Careful talking about my girls, girlie.” Bernie said between ragged breaths. “Run your mouth too much and I’ll have to scrub it across the floor of the OOOOFFFFFFHHHHHH!”



West slid her arms up a little higher and squeezed hard enough to break the other brunette’s hold on her hair. Paying absolutely no attention to the mushrooming décolletage that’d enraptured the audience, Emily leaned in close enough to whisper in her opponent’s ear. “Never gonna break this grip with a hair-pull sweetie, you’ll gas out long before I do. If you wanna prove you’re a real fighter, to them and to me, you’ll beat my Hug with one of your own.”



Bernie drew back as best she could, regarding Emily with surprise. “Why the hell would you AAAAAUUUGGGHH!”



The Amazing Academic poured even more power into the crushing constriction and added to Bernice’s misery by shaking her back ‘n forth like a rag-doll. “Did I say you could speak, LITTLE GIRL?” Emily added the taunt strictly for the fans, ensuring they’d be too busy ‘oooohhhhhhh’ing’ when she leaned in again. “Because I came here looking for a fight, Bernice Hanlon. Now, try to beat my Hug. Not over mine, that’s for morons. Raise your arms, force your elbows against my biceps and try to wriggle your arms under mine. I won’t make it easy for you, but I won’t make it impossible either. Call me a bytch if you understand.”



Bernie didn’t understand the ‘why’ at all, but she got the ‘what’ just fine and considering the pain in her ribs it wasn’t hard to muster an emphatic, “GET OFFA ME YOU SLOPPY BYTCH!”



That got the Rabbit Regulars cheering all over again, especially when Hanlon leaned back as far as the Hug would allow and SMACKED West across the cheek. It wasn’t nearly strong enough to break the older brunette’s grip, so Bernice did as bade and jammed her elbows into ‘Ashley’s’ biceps. It was slow going at first, indeed the progress was so minimal that Bernice thought the witch had duped her into a match ending trap, but then she knotted her hands into a fist and slowly but surely started wriggling beneath the Hug. Though it all Emily kept the pressure on high, indeed she even ratcheted it up a little more when Hanlon was more than halfway through. She never made it impossible though, and Bernie had a strong idea that this chick, whoever she was. could’ve squeezed her out more than a minute ago. Whatever, Bernice didn’t care about the other woman’s motives at the moment, she only wanted to THERE!



The crowd, who’d hipped to their fave’s strategy perhaps ten second prior, let out a raucous cheer when Bernice forced her arms though the last little bit of the visitor’s grasp. Snaking her mud-slicked arms around opposing midsection before Em had time to get away, Bernice locked her hands and SQUEEEEEEEEEZED as hard as she could. “YEAH, BABY!” Hanlon bellowed when the other brunette groaned into her face. “How do YOU like it? Wanna give it up before I treat you like a tube of toothpaste?”



Emily shook her head ‘no’, more for effect than anything else. Bernie’s grip was nothing to joke about of course, but she wasn’t about to surrender. “Puuuhhhh…. pretty good for a high school girl,” she gasped loud enough for some fans to hear. “But your push-up bra’s no match for the real thinGGUUUUHHHHHH!”



Hanlon rose up on her knees, pulled the black & white-clad lovely to her bosom and did some rag-dolling of her own. “Oooohhh, you’ve gone and done it now, cutie!” Bernie chided. “Now I’m gonna give you a guided tour of my tits! Show you the only ‘push up’ here is your cute little nosEEERRRGHHHH OOOWWW YOU BYTCH!”



Satisfied with what she’d learned from the local’s technique, Emily reached around with both hands, hooked her fingers into Bernice’s waistband and raised it a good six inches. The sting and burn from the wedgie forced Hanlon to release the Bear Hug more from surprise than pain, not that it mattered one way or the other once her adversary was free.



Sliding back a little ways to catch her breath and adjust her tugged togs, Bernie kept a wary eye on the curvaceous newcomer who’d given her more of a fight than any of her usual opponents ever managed. “You’re pretty good for a cougar.” she said once her breathing returned to normal.



‘Ashley’ grinned, ran a few fingers across her hulking curves and flicked a mist of mud in Hanlon’s direction. “And you’re pretty good for a JV cheerleader. But I think it’s past your bedtime, princess. Ready for mama to tuck you in?”



Bernice answered the smile in spite of the snark, damned if she didn’t love wrestling this chick! “You’re the one lookin’ tired, GRANDMA. C’mon,” Hanlon ‘smacked’ her muddy thighs and rose to her knees, “lemme put you down for the night.”



West raised her hands and the brunettes charged / slid toward one another almost immediately thereafter. The visitor reached for Bernice’s shoulders but came away empty-handed because the local standout dipped low and stuffed her shoulder into Emily’s belly. In the next instant she wrapped her arms around West’s waist and ‘hupped’ her up ‘n over with a low altitude sort of Gutwrench that dropped the older woman onto her back with a heavy SPLAT!



Aware that her foe knew far more about the vagaries of tussling in a mud pit than she’d originally let on, Hanlon quickly spun around, slung a leg over at sat heavily on Emily’s chest. In the next instant she leaned forward, hooked her arms behind the prone lovely’s knees and leaaaaaaaaaaaaaaned back her hair was practically tickling the mud. “OOOOOHHHHH, NOW WHAT!?” Bernice bounced as best she could, driving her battle-taut tush into West’s chest over and over again. “GOT THAT OLD BUTT OF YOURS POINTED AT THE CEILING!”



Em wriggled, but not too hard. Mud Bouts at the Rabbit only ended with KO’s or submission so she didn’t burn energy trying to get a shoulder up, rather she tested the other wrestler’s defenses in search of obvious gaps. Finding none in the cover itself, Emily reached up and SMACKED Hanlon’s flanks on each side. “Hear that reaction, little girl?” she huffed in between shots. “That’s what a crowd sounds like when they’re looking at an ass they like. Don’t worry though, I’ll make the time to show yours MMMMGGGHHHHHH!”



Bernice slid backward, engulfing Em in buttock from nose to chin. Nodding happily as the Rabbit Regulars lost their collective shyt, Bernie looked around and shouted, “YOU GUYS CAN’T HEAR HER, BUT GRAMMA’S SAYING GOODWHOOOAAAAHHH!”



Domineering though it was, the Reverse Face Sit was always fraught with peril and the risks were even greater in a messy arena such as this. Emily demonstrated one such risk when she kicked her legs backward and simply slid out from beneath her rival. Doing so dropped Hanlon flat on her back and left the other brunette astride her chest in an almost identical mount. Instead of settling into a smother of her own, West poked Hanlon’s tummy with one finger and cooed, “Ooohhhhhhh, it’s so FLAT! I bet it makes a wonderful drum!”



Clearly eager to find out, she flattened her hands into paddles and proceeded to smackity-smackity-smackity-smackity-SMACKSMACK-SMACK Bernie’s defenseless abdominals. Bernice grunted, braced both hands against her attacker’s surprisingly strong back and shoved, trying to toss her from the mount. Em rocked up on her knees, grabbed hold of Hanlon’s upper thighs and sat down three times as hard, just THWHUMPING the medicine ball curve of her ass into Bernice’s chest.



Bernie sucked wind for a few seconds, but the sound of the regulars cheering her on (‘YOU GOT THIS, BERN! SHOVE HER BIG ASS OFF!’ and so forth) quickly spurred her to a different tactic. Gouging her elbows into the mud, she laid as flat as she could and slid forward a few inches. A serious gamble, considering it put the other brunette’s rump that much closer to her nose, yet Hanlon knew the risk was worth it if she could-- the local lass popped her hips and brought both legs swinging back at West’s head. Against any of the Rabbit’s regular ladies it would’ve ended with her calves locked around their head in a snug Scissors, against a former World Champion however, it ended with Emily’s hands gripping her ankles.



“Nice try, cutie.” she told Hanlon. “Don’t slide next time, that’s a dead giveaway.”



Bernice didn’t get a chance to respond before the older woman tossed her legs down and resumed the attack on her midsection, this time with a pair of Claw Holds instead of Slaps. West knew her grip wasn’t anything like that of Harley Jo Collins, but she’d once paid the Tennessee Terror good money to teach her everything she knew about the art of mauling an opponent’s underbelly. She put the knowledge to good use now, pushing, kneading, squeezing and pulling with enough force to make Bernie groan in hurt.



“Luuuuhhhhh….leggo!” Bernice hated the plaintive tone in her voice, unfortunately there wasn’t anything to do about it at the moment. “Stop working my gut, you bytch!”



The Black Queen only smiled when her opponent emphasized the demand with a handful of stinging slaps to her ribs. Turned out the mud wrestler retained some defenses even in the midst of a painful tummy mauling. Wasn’t enough to make West let go though, in fact the visiting lovely squeezed a little harder and pushed down while simultaneously bouncing her buns on Hanlon’s chest. After the latest round of pained moans died down, she asked, “Why would I do that, Bernice? Did you give up and I just didn’t hear it?”



Bernie shook her head emphatically ‘no!’ “Never!” she stopped slapping and grabbed hold of West’s mud-coated waistband with both hands. “But you’re gonna get off me right now or I’m gonna pay back that wedgie with intGUUHHHHHHHHHHH!”



Emily released her grip as bade, then raised both hands high overhead and brought ‘em THWHAPPING down on Hanlon’s tender tummy with an Overhand Slap that was almost a Double Axehandle. A good chunk of the audience didn’t like it, but several more cheered the echoing blow and it was these folks that Em focused on as she pushed to her feet. “Girl’s strong, I’ll give her that. She’s just never met anyone stronger prior to tonight. Now that she has, she doesn’t quite now how to react.”



‘FINISH HER OFF, ASHLEY!’ shouted an undeniably drunken voice from the direction of the bar.



A host of protesting voices rose to drown it out, yet West heard enough curious buzz in the undercurrent to know she could sway a great deal of them to the cause. All they needed was the right sign. Deliberately turning her back on most of the audience, Em put both hands on her hips and looked down at Bernice, who’d slowly risen to all fours. The urge to tap her temple three times was almost overwhelming but in the end West set to work without showing her favorite sigil. Stretching her arms out in a wide ‘T’ shape, the Amazing Academic abruptly leaned down and wrapped Hanlon’s waist in a strong Gutwrench. In the next instant she dipped her knees and hoisted the younger wrestler up to waist level, Bernice sagging like a sack of laundry a bit too bulky to carry under one arm.



The Rabbit Regulars ‘ooooooohhhhhed’ in spite of themselves. Such shows of strength were uncommon in the Mud Pit and when they did happen it was usually Bernie doling them out. But on this particular Thursday it was Bernice’s turn to get shown off and that’s exactly what Emily did, the buxom battler spinning in a slow, sloppy circle to make sure everyone got the chance at a good angle. “Ready to quit, cheerleader?” Emily asked her opponent after nearly ten seconds. “I wouldn’t want you to OOOOFFFFHHH!”



Hanlon crooked her arm into a stubby ‘V’ and drove it into the other woman’s side, just above the point of her left hip. It wasn’t quite kosher by the rules of the Pit, not that Bernice worried about it for more than a heartbeat. At the moment she was only concerned with wriggling free of this damned trap, which was why she jabbed another shot into her attacker’s side. “Let GO of me, grandma!” she panted. “Don’t make me WHOOAAAHHHHNNNNGGHHHH!”



West dipped her knees, popped her hips and flung Bernie onto her back with a short but enthusiastic Gutwrench Suplex. Bernice THWHAP-SPLATTED into the mud and drew in a deep breath or at least tried to. The impact had knocked the wind out of her and at the moment she could only lay there and gape.



Beside her, Emily mopped a forearm across her brow, then looked to the locals. “I think she’s about done, don’t you?”



She’d imagined another round of lusty boos, so imagine her surprise when someone bellowed, ‘SLAM HER AGAIN!’ This time it was the boos that were drowned out, apparently most of the patrons had decided they wanted to see what else the new girl could do. And Emily was happy to oblige them, up to a point. She’d come here to see what Bernice was made of, not to humiliate her in front of all the beer-drinkers in Russellville. And yet, there was something to be said for the demand. After all, if Hanlon DID make her way to FAWN, she’d have to endure a whole lot worse than a simple slam if she hoped to survive, let alone thrive.



With that in mind, she grabbed a handful of Bernie’s hair and sloooooooooowly ‘slooooorped’ her out of the mud. Hanlon stood up ok once she was on her feet, but there was none of the usual strength or bravado shown earlier, indeed she had to hook an arm around the back of Emily’s neck to keep from swaying in the breeze of the AC. West let her stay that way for the time being, it made it that much easier to pivot and THWHUMP the beefiest part of her left thigh across Hanlon’s tummy. Bernice puffed an ‘ooooohhhhh’ into Emily’s face, not that the slumming royal paid it any mind when there was such an engrossing task at hand. Tossing one arm over Bernice’s shoulder, Emily slipped her other hand between her foe’s thighs and clapped a hearty handful of buttock right before she muscled Hanlon up onto her shoulder.



There were plenty of ‘oooooohhhh’s’ and inebriated cheers, but Emily didn’t show off her burden this time ‘round. Rather she pushed onto her toes, cupped the back of Bernie’s neck and hurled her into the muck with a SPLOOOOSHING Body Slam. Bernice ‘ooooffffffffhed’ and tried to sit up, but she didn’t make it more than halfway up before West planted a foot on either side of her hips and dropped to her knees. “You put up a great fight, Bernice.” Em murmured as she curled her right arm around the base of the other brunette’s neck, cupping her left bicep in the process. “But you were never going to win unless I decided to play on easy. And that’s no win at all, is it?”



“Huuuuhhhhh…. who the hell are MMMMGGHH!”



Em cupped her left palm against the back of Hanlon’s skull and pulled her deep, DEEP into that championship cleavage. Oxygen deprivation often provided an intriguing boost of adrenaline and Bernie proved no different. Her hands, limp and lifeless mere seconds ago, transformed into wicked claws that gouged into her tormentor’s biceps. Em lifted her upper lip, the only sign of discomfort. “Don’t fight it, Bernice. Just close your eyes and drift off.” But Hanlon wouldn’t drift off. She pounded at Emily’s shoulders, pulled Emily’s hair and bucked under Emily’s weight, her hips twisting left and right as she fought to escape the suffocating prison. In truth it was an effort worthy of Shea London, Jenny Jacobs or even Kylie Sanders. But they’d never escaped West’s Front Sleeper either (at least not without the aid of teeth or outside interference) and by the thirty second mark Bernice was fading fast. Her legs settled down first, then her hips and finally her hands, the latter slooooowly opening up and sliding from her tormentor’s shoulders. Even then she wasn’t quite done, so Emily pulled her out a little deeper.



“There you go.” West leaned a cheek against the crown of the younger woman’s skull while her breathing smoothed out into the deep, untroubled rhythm of unconsciousness. After another five seconds she released with a little flourish, pushing Hanlon onto her back with a smart little shove. Looking out at the crowd, the Amazing Academic saw doubt on more than one face, so she honed in on one of them and said, “Just so there’s no question…” She took Bernie’s left wrist in one hand and lifted her arm out of the muck just to let it drop back with no resistance at all.



FAWN would’ve required three, but the Rabbit in Red was satisfied with one, as evidenced when the DJ clanged the bell, which was really just a button on his soundboard. “AND IT’S OVER!” he shouted over the raucous noise. “EVERYBODY PUT YOUR HANDS TOGETHER FOR ASHLEY, THE WINNER BY TECHNICAL JUGG OUT!”



Emily made every effort not to roll her eyes.



When the urge passed, she got to her feet and treated the Rabbit Regulars to a brawny double bicep flex. That show of power seemed to get them mostly on her side and West converted the hold outs when she raised a hand and brushed some of the grime from her heavy décolletage. “I’d forgotten how much I enjoy mud bouts,” Emily said to no one in particular. “Thank you for the reminder, Bernice.”



With the battle over and done, the Black Queen strode to the edge of ring, stepped over the edge and slid clear. A group of perhaps a dozen of the more inebriated patrons tried to offer her one helluva bar tab, but Emily dismissed them all with a smile and a nod, took a towel from the DJ and started to wipe off the worst of the mud as she made her way to the narrow hallway that led to the locker room.



********

Later in the evening…



Emily was blowing the last of the damp from her hair when there was a tentative knock on the door. She turned off the hairdryer and called, “Come in.”



Bernice Hanlon pushed through, let the door swing shut and leaned against the wall. Freshly showered herself, Bernie wore old jeans and a black & orange Haddonfield Community College hoodie and if not for the disappointed look on her face you’d never have known she’d been in a huge fight no more than an hour prior. Looking like she didn’t quite know what to do with herself, Hanlon crossed her arms over her chest and said, “Sam tells me you’re not coming back next week. Means I don’t get my rematch, which means the only memory these folks are gonna have of you and me involves your tits in my face.”



West smiled faintly. “You know how much beer this place sold tonight? Most of those people aren’t going to remember much of anything come tomorrow morning.”



Bernice shook her head ‘no’. “That’s what you think. Girl gets jugged out here, the regulars are gonna remember it until she does the same to someone else. I’ve done that before and I can do it again… but it’s gonna ring hollow because it’s not the chick who motorboated me to sleep.”



Emily set down the hairdryer, grabbed a brush and went to work on her hair. “So you came here for what, exactly? A little fist fight in the locker room? Or maybe you’re gonna grab me by the hair and lead me back to the pit for round two?”



Hanlon frowned and shook her head again. “No! It’s not like that at all, you won fair and square, but… who are you? Did Sam put you up to this? There was a girl here a few years ago who got to thinking she was better than the Rabbit. Started making demands, bossed Loomis around, all sorts of bytchy shyt. So Sam hired this Aussie chick from some pro-wrestling fed outta Chicago to come up here and whip the girl’s ass. She never showed her face in the Rabbit again after that.”



“That what you think, Bernice? I’m some ringer outta Chicago hired to come up here and teach you a lesson because… why exactly? Loomis thinks highly of you, as do the fans, and you fought until the bitter end. So what reason would he have to bring in a hired gun to toss you around?”



“I don’t know!” Bernie almost shouted. “But I’ve wrestled down enough to know when someone’s doing the same to me. I don’t know who the hell you are, but you’re sure as hell not just some pissed off ex-girlfriend looking to work out some aggression. Who are you really, Ashley Waite? And what are you doing at the Rabbit in Red, other than kicking my ass?”



Emily thought about it for a moment. Sydney had warned her against telling anyone who she was if they hadn’t figured it out for themselves, but Bernie had given her a good fight and she didn’t feel any particular inclination to trouble the younger woman’s mind any longer than necessary. “Tonight I’m Ashley Waite. Next month I think I’ll be Stephanie Brown, there’s an ingénue in the Upper Peninsula that’s in need of my attention. As for why I’m in Russellville, I came here to find out if you’re as good as Sam and a few others say you are.”



Hanlon smiled for a second, then remembered the outcome of their match and her frown returned stronger than ever. “Great he talks me up to…. whoever you are, and I get my ass kicked.”



At that, Emily pulled out her phone, tapped a button and held it level with her chin. “Siri, who is Emily West?”



The reply was immediate and a bit more thorough than she’d imagined. “Emily Ashley West, also known as the Amazing Academic, the Insidious Intellectual and the Black Queen is a former FAWN World Champion. She was recently ranked as one of Gladiatrix’s top ten best Lightweights in the world.”



Surprised, she cocked her head to one side. “Really? What issue?”



“July, 2016. She came in at number four, one space above longtime nemesis Kylie Sanders, but below another longtime nemesis, Shea London, who topped the rankings.”



West snorted disdainfully. “What a rag.”



Taking note of a usual picture that’d popped up during her request, Emily handed the phone over to Bernice, who looked like someone who thought they were on a hidden camera prank show. The picture, which showed Em in her full Black Queen attire with the big gold belt slung over her right shoulder, must’ve convinced Bernie because she gaped before handing the phone back to its owner.



“Former WORLD CHAMPION? And you wanted to fight ME? How many times do I have to ask why?”



“Really? I’m playing talent scout at the moment, Bernice. You are talented. I scout you. Then I make a report back to the office and we go from there.”



“And you’re going to tell them?”



“That I gave you this card,” Emily produced a business card from her hip pocket and offered it to Hanlon, “and suggested you call the numbers thereupon whenever you decided you want to start paying off those student loans a whole lot faster.”



Bernice looked from Emily to the card and back again. “But I’m just a mud wrestler. You really think I can do this professionally?”



Emily stood up, stretching her back. “When I first encountered Lenore Lemarchand she was a grad student doing Apartment House Wrestling in her spare time. Just last year she wrestled Olivia Dare in one of the best matches on a stacked card. I know a thing or two about raw talent, Bernice. I saw it in her, I see it in you. I believe you’ll see it in yourself sooner than later, should you decide to pursue this any further.”



Bernie, who’d spent her whole life in Illinois, noted the numbers for Albuquerque, Bangor and Orlando and let her mind wander a bit. “Where would they send me?”



“Desert Divas or the Jungle for starters, though you may get a trip to Orlando to see the arena and the Madhouse. I tell you this up front, Bernice, it won’t be easy. You’re looking at year, maybe two of hard training and from there the learning curve gets even steeper. But you wouldn’t have that.” West reached out and tapped a corner of the business card, “if I didn’t think you had a shot. The question you must ask yourself is this: are you happy paying off student loans as the Rabbit in Red’s resident badass? Or do you want to prove yourself against the best the world has to offer in front of some of the most rabid fans on the continent?”



Hanlon gave her a thoughtful look. “This place has been very good to me. My loans were huge and the tips from every Thursday night have helped cut them back to something manageable. But before tonight I hadn’t lost a match in almost eight months. Complacency is a dangerous thing. So’s boredom. And something tells me I’d be out of the red and into the black real fast if the people on the other end of these lines decide to answer my calls. Am I wrong?”



“I wouldn’t go yacht shopping just yet.” Emily said dryly. “But your days of Ramen and hot dog casserole would be behind you, yes.”



The thought of paying off those loans before she was forty was certainly appealing, but what really convinced Bernice was the imagined sound of several thousand voices roaring her name as she strode toward the ring. Grinning, she swatted the card against her leg and stuffed it into the pocket of her hoodie. “I’m in. Who do I call first?”



“Orlando. Ask for Kent Allard, tell him you’re calling at my recommendation. After that Kent will make a few calls himself and you’ll be in touch with Maine or New Mexico before the week is out. Do you have a preference?”



“Albuquerque, probably. But I won’t complain about Bangor, I’m used to the cold.”



“I’ll pass that along then.” Emily stuck out her hand and Bernie shook it at once. “It’s been a pleasure, Bernice Hanlon. I look forward to seeing your progress in the months to come. I believe our business is almost concluded, I just need to ask you one more question.”



“Lets hear it.”



“What’s the best thing on the Rabbit’s menu? I am starved.”



“Pork belly Reuben.” Bernie answered at once. I wouldn’t suggest it on a regular basis, but it’s perfect after a long fight.”



Emily nodded approval, stood up and stretched. “Sounds excellent. Care to join me? It’s on me, well, the expense account.”



Bernie Hanlon got up and swatted Emily on the shoulder. “Money’s no good here, Ash--Emily. This one’s on the house, provided you tell me more about what I just got myself into.”



“A fair trade if every I heard one. You’re on, Bernice.” With the issue thusly settled, they headed out of the locker room and out into the Rabbit for a conversation that will remain between them, at least for the time-being.