Post by alyadmirer on Jul 15, 2016 23:41:36 GMT
The clamor of the FAWNatics is at a fever pitched with the promise of two of the newer talents facing off. As the noise dies, the announcer booms over the sound system.
“Ladies and gentlemen, our next match is a standard bout. First, from Bath County, Kentucky.. standing at five feet, four inches and one hundred twenty-five pounds…. RUE ANN MACKENNA!”
RUE ANN MACKENNA:
“BURY THEM DEEP” BY GHOULTOWN:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=P_kn2rtuc4o
The booing is deafening, swamping Rue's music. To the shapely redhead, it's just a better soundtrack. Rue shimmies to the ring, enjoying the view of people who obviously hate her but also crane their necks to drink every bit of her in. When she finally arrives to the ring, Rue pulls herself up, faces the fans, and bends over dramatically to slip between the ropes backwards. Everyone gets a good view of her rack and, in a few areas of the arena, boos switch to applause. She saunters to her corner for the usual desperate attempt by the ref to find a foreign object – as if her barely there singlet could hide anything.
After the check, Rue yawns. "Is Wonderschmuck here yet? Or did you guys finally spray the rafters down for flying pests?”
The lights in the arena again go out and the crowd bursts into cheers. The FAWNatron shows Crimson Dawn's signal, the red rising sun, as her entrance music plays.
“SERENADA SCHIZOPHRENA” BY DANNY ELFMAN:
www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=73BzbXYpnVY
CRIMSON DAWN:
The crowd is shocked though as a spotlight shines into the rafters and for once, no hero is to be found. They gasp. The light searches for a moment before the arena lights suddenly come up, giving the crowd something to pop about. Perched, on Rue's own corner, on the top rope, crouched, wearing her black cat suit, red boots, red leather gloves, red cape and black mask is Crimson Dawn. Her strawberry blonde hair loose for all to see. She suddenly jumps, flipping over her opponent and to the canvas, facing Rue, and backing up towards her own corner. Popping the snaps of her cape, she lets it drop in her corner as she keeps her eyes locked on her opponent.
Rue grins. “Love the new mask,” Rue chirps. “It really brings out your bruised ego.” She stretches, more to give a display than to prepare. “Between what Eva pulled on you and the working the Dunbar Sisters gave you, I kinda think this isn't about justice. I think this is about being put in your place.” MacKenna crooks her head. “Is that what you need, Crimmy? A little brutality makes the catsuit damp? I bet that really lubes the slide down the Crimson Pole into the Loser Cave.”
Rue steps to the center of the ring. “I don't want your mask. I don't want your secret identity. I just want to hurt you.” Rue Ann raises her hands for a test of strength. “So, let's start the Crisis of the Infinite Humiliations, okay?”
Crimson's eyes narrow as she walks towards the center. She listens to Rue's taunts and looks at the hands raised. The crowd warning the hero not to go for the test of strength. Screaming at her no to trust the southern wrestler. Her right hand lifting towards Rue's, she suddenly runs under her arm trying to lock it up into a hammer lock. Stomping the canvas as she does, the crowd going wild as Crimson goes on the offensive early.
Crimson cinches the hold tight, but Rue doesn't react beyond a few grunts to recognize the discomfort. Instead, the Kentucky beauty reaches back with her free hand, cups it behind Crimson's head, and immediately drops to her butt. Gravity gives the assist and the vigilante finds her head traveling with her foe – immediately releasing the hammerlock. Crimson's face bounces off Rue's shoulder during the landing and she flops back to the mat. Both women jump to their feet, Rue barely beating the strawberry blonde and sending a kick for her cheek.
Crimson's seeing stars as she gets to her feet from the landing of her chin against Rue's shoulder. Holding her forehead as she steadies herself on her feet to face Rue once more when 'UNGH!" there's a loud clap of Rue's sole slapping hard against her cheek. Turning her to the side as she holds her face with a grunt. Shaking her head trying to get back on the offensive as the crowd boos.
Crimson isn't allowed a lot of time to collect herself as an elbow catches the masked wrestler in the ribs. Despite her size and seemingly pixie features, Rue Ann packs power and the hero's side throbs as she spins to face the assailant. Another kick aims for Crimson's face but she guides it away. Rue sends a punch by Crimson catches the arm, yanks, and pulls Rue into a knife edged chop above the breasts. Rue clutches the impact and her eyes flare. Just as she's about to plow into Crimson, the referee steps in.
“Ropes!” he yells. Sure enough, Rue has backed Crimson to the cables. Rue looks at Crimson, smiles, and does the unthinkable.
She backs away, letting Crimson get off the ropes.
Crimson stays on the ropes, taking a deep breath and trying to come up with a strategy as she begins to circle out. Crouching, watching the Kentucky girl closely as she does. Her gloved fingers wiggling as she looks for an opening. She feigns going for a collar and elbow lock up, but instead brings herself in low. Aiming her shoulder square for Rue's abs hoping to knock the wind from her and take her down to the canvas.
Rue Ann collides with the mat, releasing a gust of air as she hits hard. Crimson tries desperately to pin her but can't even get a one count on the bucking ginger. Rue thrusts an open palm into Crimson's throat, forcing her off slightly. The referee immediately reacts. “No closed fists!”
Both women glance at him as he realizes it was a bad call. “Sorry,” the sheepish official mutters. “I'm just so used to her cheating.”
Before Rue can protest, an arm wraps around her neck and yanks her up. The heroine, to the fans' pleasure, clasps a tight headlock on Rue and yanks her around. She shoves and pulls but Crimson's not going anywhere. Desperate times, Rue Ann hauls back with an open palm ready to strike the back of Crimson's knee.
Crimson grits her teeth as she wrenches and twists at Rue's head. Trying to wear the ginger down as she struggles. She grunts as she feels the slap against her leg, bending her knee on the impact. Grunting as she falls to one knee. She decides to twist and roll trying to take Rue with her and roll her down to the mat in the process.
Crimson manages to roll onto her back, yanking Rue down to the mat with her. Rue gasps, her face turning a slight pink, as she flails at Crimson's side. They aren't down long before the open palm swats down on Crimson's belly. And again. And again. Again, she packs more punch than she looks and, though it doesn't cause a break in the hold, Crimson loosens just enough for MacKenna to pry the arm from her throat and scoot up.
As Rue bolts up and steadies herself on the ropes, the referee chides. “I told you no closed--”
“I DIDN'T PUNCH HER!” Rue blurts. She looks at Crimson, demandingly, while leaning on the cables. “Did I punch you? Did I?”
The referee shifts uncomfortably. “I'm… I'm just used to--
Rue shoves past him, pacing around the ring. She sizes up Crimson. “Gotta admit, supes. You're better than you look. I don't compliment lightly.” The Kentucky girl pops her neck. “A steady anti-psychotic and you could be a powerhouse here.” Rue Ann slowly raises a hand for a test of strength.
Crimson pushes up to her feet, rubbing her stomach a little. She's been shocked so far by Rue playing by the rules, the crowd warning her not to take the test of strength. Having avoided the first test, Crimson decides she should show some trust of her own. Reaching out, lacing her gloved fingers with Rue's bare ones before she starts to push hard against her.
Rue accepts Crimson's hand, then holds up her other mitt for the vigilante. As soon as Crimson takes it, both women begin to push. The fans continue to call out, panicked and worried for the eventual dirty trick from MacKenna. In truth, it affects Crimson a little. She can't help but expect a boot to the gut or even a chair from behind from Rue's usual partner-in-crime, Trisha Belle. It doesn't come, however. Instead, the heroine feels herself buckling and giving way and the solid little powerhouse that is Rue begins to force her down, slowly, to her knees. A maniacal look spreads across Rue's face. This is it. This is where the dirty pool comes in.
“Daughter of Jor-El,” Rue booms, “KNEEL BEFORE ZOD!”
Crimson, forced down to both knees, stares up in confusion. Rue gives a tiny giggle.
“Sorry,” Rue says with a head shake, never releasing her hold. “That's for my mama. She loves the old Reeves Superman.” And with that, holding both of Crimson's hands, Rue sends down a full-force headbutt to the good girl.
Gritting her teeth, Crimson starts to push back up when "UNGH!" the headbutt cracks hard against her forehead. It would have been even worse were she not wearing the mask, but the rising from the canvas into the impact of the hillbilly's skull has the heroine dazed. Falling back to her knees, her head hanging in front of her as she tries to shake off the effects.
MacKenna sails her knee up into Crimson's chin. The heroine pulls away, clutching her lower jaw, but the Kentucky girl just cups her own hand behind Crimson's head and throws her, face first, to the mat. The referee opens his mouth but Rue, walking to Crimson's feet, holds up a hand. “I didn't pull her hair.” Rue grabs one of Crimson's feet and lifts it. Stomping her bare foot in the small of the masked crusader's back, Rue Ann begins twisting the foot as far as it will go, trying hard to push boundaries.
The official falls to the mat, but Crimson doesn't wait to ask. “NO! I do NOT submit!” Instead, she palms the mat and pulls towards the ropes. Rue, less than thrilled by this idea, raises an elbow, aims it for the strawberry blonde's back, and drops.
Dawn is a few inches from the ropes when "UNHG!" Rue's elbow digs in hard in between her shoulder blades, right into her spine! She screams out in pain, her arms and legs spreading out like a star fish from the impact. Groaning, she tries to roll to her back, hoping to get the hillbilly off of her and to get to the ropes, needing to find a way to slow her opponent's momentum before it overwhelms her.
Crimson pushes against the mat, but Rue bears down. The hillbilly raises an open palm and brings it down against the back of Crimson's skull, grinding her face into the mat for a minute. For an encore, Rue bell claps her opponent's ears. Crimson Dawn snarls and she again pushes against the mat but Rue has had enough of her struggling. Instead, she crouches over the fan favorite's back, pulls her arms back, and cups under Crimson's chin for a camel clutch.
Crimson's neck is pulled back. She grits her teeth, her boots kicking the canvas as she tries to shake her head in the chin lock. Wincing as she grits her teeth, the ref checking her once again. "NO! I do NOT!" Trying to get her hands gripped around her opponent's calves as Rue increases the pain to her back.
Rue frowns. She knew Crimson wouldn't submit, not this fast, but she still hoped. Rue releases her grip and, like a rubber band, Crimson snaps to the mat. MacKenna reaches down, latches her arms around Crimson's waist, and pulls her up like a half-stuffed scarecrow. The country girl squeeze, crushing her arms around C.D.'s waist and jerking her around a bit before throwing her back over her head in a suplex. Crimson lands on the base of her neck and flops to the side. Rue Ann struts back towards her, grabs her from behind again, and repeats the dance, once more suplexing her backwards. This time, Crimson lands on her crown.
The heroine does her best to get up but instantly stumbles and flops back on her side. I have to gather my wits, Crimson thinks. But she can feel Rue's bare feet slapping against the mat, advancing. The heroine ducks from the ring, rolling under the bottom rope, and practically collapses to the arena floor. She's not proud of it, but it's a tactical retreat. A necessity. And she's dizzy. It's too much advantage to allow Rue Ann.
Crimson tries to stand, shaking her head side to side. She'll be fine in a minute… in a…. The hero grabs onto the barricade and slides to a knee, wincing as everything spins. She's not that hurt – certainly not out of the match – but Rue Ann managed to land her so everything is spinning a bit. That's when it happens.
Crimson feels fingers touching the corner of her mask.
She looks up. Looming above her, is Rue Ann. Crimson's heart pounds as she grabs Rue's wrist. Then, a snap – a loud pop of bone breaking. It's not from Crimson. It's not Rue's wrist. It's from the fingers Rue Ann pulls away from the corner of Crimson's mask, the fingers of a fan who reached through the barricade for a special souvenir.
Rue Ann looks past Crimson, at the screaming man whose finger she just broke. In a low, angry voice – different from the giggly country girl twang Rue Ann usually babbles in, MacKenna growls at the FAWNatic. “Never touch a wrestler again. Do you understand? NEVER.” He sobs. Softer, Rue Ann speaks again. “Crimson, I'll meet you in the ring. I wanna make sure security takes this guy away.”
Crimson groans, pushing up, stumbling to her feet as she makes her way back to the ring. Stopping at the ring apron to catch her breath. Groaning she starts to pull herself up, rolling under the bottom rope. Confused, not sure if Rue is the opponent she came into this match thinking she was.
The cobwebs are clearing as Crimson retreats to a corner. Rue Ann follows after security escorts the wailing fan away, just as she notices the ref was counting and at seven. “Seriously?” Rue rolls under the ropes, hops up, and points at him. “You? You're a douche.”
Fans, getting over the shock of Rue stepping in when Crimson needed her, have begun applauding both women and chanting the praises of good sportsmanship. Rue Ann steps on that immediately. “Oh, shut up! This is still gonna end with one of us stripped and covered in lady juices. I just don't want any of your disgusting germs on my chew toy!” This resets the fans to their default “Hate Rue Ann” setting and she smiles. Rue looks back to Crimson. “Is your batcave still cluttered or are we doing this?” She stomps towards Crimson, meeting her in a lock-up.
Crimson circles a moment as Rue begins stomping towards her. She smiles ever so slightly. "You put on a show, but deep down you're not the villain you want us all to think you are." She slams in for the collar and elbow lock up. Her boots digging into the canvas. She lets her forehead rest on Rue's as she tries to back her up before sliding the Hillbilly into a headlock.
Crimson locks her arm around Rue's neck. From the depths of her hold, Rue laughs. “Hon, I never said I'm a villain.” Crimson feels Rue Ann's mitts grab onto her side and lift. The headlock is still in place, but MacKenna cradles the masked fighter to her generous breasts. “If you need a simplistic duality of good and evil to define you, great. You do you, boo. But me?” Rue Ann lifts Crimson a big more before releasing, catching her in the back with a raised knee. The headlock vanishes and Crimson rolls off Rue's knee and to the mat.
“I'm not a simple, two-sided coin.” MacKenna grabs Crimson's wrist as she drops to her butt on the mat. Placing a foot on either side of Crimson Dawn's arm at the shoulder joint, Rue once again returns to her high pitched twangy voice. “Tell ya what, I'll be happy to give to my dissertation on 'Beyond Good and Evil' later. It'll be something to enjoy while your tongue deep in my lap.” Rue straightens her legs and begins to twist the wrist.
Crimson winces in pain as her shoulder's pulled hard. Feeling the soles press into her side through the material of her outfit. Gritting her teeth she tries to claw at the canvas with her gloved hands. Finally she moves her hand to her shoulder trying to rub it to get some relief.... then darts her hand towards Rue's left foot. Pressing her thumb hard into the ball of the foot as her fingers push into the top to add some pressure, trying to force Rue to break the hold!
Now it's Rue's turn to wince. She tries to bend Crimson's wrist more, but as the masked one starts driving her knuckle into the bottom of MacKenna's foot she finds herself forced to release. The flaming redhead hops back and clutches her foot, massaging it. “Goddamn! Is this junior high? Gonna give me a charlie horse!” She looks up and sees Crimson on her feet. Rue jumps to her own and storms the blonde, an arm raised for a clothesline.
Crimson moves quickly, seeing Rue coming in extending her arm. Ducking down she moves left and gets under the Hillbilly's clothesline attempt. Turning, she tries to wrap her arms around MacKenna's waist and she lifts up, returning the earlier suplex favor to her fiery opponent, looking to take some wind from her sails.
Up and over Rue Ann goes – where she lands? Everyone knows. On the back of her skull, in fact. Crimson holds for a pin.
ONE…
T--
Rue Ann bucks out, landing on her side. She pushes up to hands and knees as Crimson walks towards her. Rue slams an open palm against Crimson's knee and the heroine backs up a step, but promptly retakes it and drops an elbow on Rue Ann's upper back. It's Rue's turn to flatten to the mat. But then she feels gloved hands grabbing her leg and knows payback is nigh, so she frantically scrambles to grab rope.
Crimson knows she has to try to keep her momentum up. Still holding Rue's foot she pulls back trying to keep the hillbilly from the ropes. Placing one knee on the back of Rue's knee, one gloved hand on her bare heel the other on her toes, Crimson twists the leg, placing a tight ankle lock in place as she does. Trying to keep her from crawling further or at least slow her down once she does get up.
Pounding on the mat, Rue bucks and jolts to escape the hold but Crimson isn't interested in letting go for anything. The referee checks for submission, but Rue shakes her head. “Hell, no!” she bellows. Crimson leans into the hold, grinding her knee in place. Rue responds with a slew of obscenities and a hand flailing backwards, slapping at the foot Crimson's bracing the heroine. If she can just grab the boot, maybe Rue and pull her off balance.
Gritting her teeth wrenching the hold, trying to get a submission or at least slow Rue down when "UNGH!" her leg's pulled out from under her as she releases the foot and tries to roll away back to the center of the ring and up to her knees.
Crimson rolls and looks towards Rue, horrified to see MacKenna not just on her feet but barreling towards her. But as soon as the Kentucky beauty is in reach she's met with a boot stomp to the gut – a reminder that on one's back isn't the same as helpless. MacKenna doubles over, clutching her belly, but Crimson has more to give. A leg sweep and Rue's down. Immediately, Crimson goes for a cover.
ONE…
TW--
Rue hoists and tosses Crimson yet again, but there's heavy breathing. Rue sits up and pets her knee. It smarts more than she wants to admit. Slowly, Rue looks towards where she shoves Crimson. All she sees, though, is a boot aimed at her head.
The boot cracks hard against Rue's temple, flattening her to the canvas. The heroine grabs Rue's right arm and ankle and pulls her closer to the center. Crimson makes her way to the ropes and slides through them onto the ring apron. Walking to the nearby turnbuckle she begins to climb until she is at the top. Turning to the crowd she leaps off in a back flip, spinning herself to aim her body for Rue's midsection, going for her finisher the "Crimson Splash"
The masked wonder slams down on Rue's prone form and immediately rolls her up for a pin.
ONE...
TWO…
THR--
To the jeers of all in attendance, Rue Ann arches out of the pin, lifting her shoulders and would-be vanquisher from the canvas before flipping onto her side. Crimson stares, stunned that the little powerhouse is still going after her finisher. And impressed. And annoyed, really.
Crimson pulls Rue up by her arms and whips her to the ropes. Rue's hurting, and dazed, but she can see the body language Crimson’s telegraphing – a kick to the jaw's waiting for her return trip. MacKenna lowers her body to come in low with a shoulder block.
Crimson moves forward but "OOOOOF!" the wind rushes out of her, grunting as she lands on her back on the canvas. MacKenna on top of her. Wrenching her body she arches up trying to push the southern hellcat off of her waist with a grunt.
Rue tries for a pin but Crimson pushes her off and scrambles to the ropes. MacKenna takes her time getting up. She can no longer disguise how winded she is. Crimson sees it as an opportunity and rushes her to catch her off guard but Rue does all the catching, scooping Crimson up for a Michinoku Driver!
MICHINOKU DRIVER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=jThnXk_K7q8
Rue pulls Crimson's leg back for a pin as the heroine becomes one with the mat.
ONE....
Crimson groans on the canvas, her head between Rue's legs as her own leg is pulled up tight. Bending her free knee she pushes up and wrenches her shoulder looking to peel it from the canvas at the two count before she can be counted out in the pin!
“Just one!” the referee yelps. He thrusts a single finger in Rue's face. “ONE!”
“Yeah, I know,” MacKenna says. “I'm so glad your favorite is still in it to win it.” The referee gapes like a fish, muttering something about being impartial. Rue Ann heaves Crimson up and whips her to the ropes. Crimson bounds and returns, met with a kick across her jaw. Rue Ann manages to kick the masked marvel so hard, in fact, she spins three-sixty in place. When Crimson stops where she started, MacKenna grabs her around the waists, walks her to the corner, and sidewalk slams the strawberry blonde.
The fans wait for the pin but Rue doesn't cover. Instead, she scales the ropes and perches on top of the ring post. Attentive fans know how this ends – with Rue launching, landing on her ass on her opponent's gut and then going for a breast smother. She calls it her Kentucky Meat Shower. Others call it an effective end to a fight. The fans cringe as Rue Ann leaps from the ring post.
Fans hope, desperately, for a roll out or lifted legs from Crimson. What they get instead is a scream – a piercing shriek as all of Rue's weight lands perfectly in her middle of Crimson Dawn. She folds upwards at the impact and MacKenna instantly wraps her arms around the hero's head, pulling her deep between Rue's ivory orbs. The arms lock tighter than an iron collar and Crimson finds herself in a sweaty, oily prison.
As air becomes scarce and Crimson claws and pushes to no avail, Rue licks her lips. “Maybe you're right,” she whispers so only Crimson can her. “Maybe I am a good girl, 'cuz it's a mercy that I put you out so you don't get to fully experience everything my Boo and I are gonna do to you in a few minutes.”
Crimson struggles hard as Rue cinches her in. Groaning into Rue's cleavage as she does. Her hands sliding up and down Rue's sides as she struggles and tries to escape. Her boots drumming against the canvas. Her face pulled tight to Rue's oil and sweat slicked flesh. Her lips pressed tight into a forced kiss…
The fans see Crimson's hands reach out now, looking for help that doesn't come before dropping to her sides. Trapped in the barefoot beauty's coils, her shoulders lifting and falling slowly as she does...
The ref comes over, lifting Crimson's hand high in the air...
She lets it drop...
One!.....
The crowd worried now, silent as the ref reaches for Crimson's gloved hand a second time…
Lets it drop....
"TWO!"
... only once more and Rue has won the match...
The hand is lifted and....
Thr...NO!
Crimson's gloved hand stays high in the air. First in an open palm but clenching into a fist! Conserving her energy by not struggling against the hillbilly has paid off as she bends her knees now trying to push up!
The fans begin a steady chant of, “CRIM-SON! CRIM-SON!” as Crimson Dawn pushes up to shaky legs, bringing Rue and her juggy cage with her. A forearm slams into Rue's gut. She winces but holds on. Another. Another. And another, and finally Rue relents. Crimson's head, slick and oily, shoots from Rue's cleavage, her mouth rounding to take in as much oxygen as she can before she drives her skull against Rue's for a headbutt. The FAWNatics are on their feet not, but Rue nearly isn't. The shock and force take her by surprise and Dawn whips her to the ropes.
Still confused – this was s'posed to be all over – Rue seems almost hypnotized by her failure to end Crimson Dawn. She bounds from the cables and returns to the heroine, met with a knee to the belly. MacKenna folds over and Crimson locks a headlock onto her. Finally MacKenna snaps out of it, clawing to escape before the vigilante plants her with a DDT.
Crimson wraps her bicep around Rue's head tightly and rushes forward. Leaping into the air as the crowd cheers, she slams Rue's face to the canvas with a devastating DDT.
Winded, Crimson pushes to her feet. Taking a deep breath as she makes it to the corner she begins climbing the ropes once more. Facing the fans. She gets to the top and puts both arms in the air, before flipping backwards, going for a second Crimson Tide, hoping to slam her ab against the dazed hillbilly's on the way down!
Rue rolls onto her back just in time for Crimson to drop onto her like a ton of bricks.. The mountain girl quakes, then goes still. Crimson hooks Rue's leg for a pin.
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
The bell sounds and the fans go ballistic, almost drowning out the announcer. “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner – CRIMSON DAAAAAAAWN!”
Crimson pushes to her feet, an arm around her waist as the crowd cheers her on. The ref lifts her hand as he plants a boot on Rue's abs for only a moment. Suddenly the lights in the arena darken. When they return the heroine is gone from the arena!
Rue Ann pushes up to a sitting position. “Well, at least she doesn’t stick around to gloat,” she laughs.
The referee stares at her. “You didn't cheat. You always cheat.”
Rue cocks an eyebrow. “Or maybe I DID cheat and you just never saw it.”
The ref's eyes round out. “Really?”
MacKenna sighs deeply. “Please, do everyone a favor. Make no babies. And if you've already made them, eat them.”
She waits for no reply. Rue Ann rolls under the bottom rope and struts up the rant. The usual fan hate is there, of course, but now it's mixed with a bit of admiration from some of Crimson's most ardent fans. A few thank her for protecting Crimson's anonymity but Rue pays them no mind. The only fan she heeds is a young woman who leans over the barricade.
“You're a whore!” the woman shrieks. “You're gonna get what you deserve!”
Rue Ann smiles at her. “Aren't we all?” she asks as she ascends the ramp.
TRISHA BELLE:
The cheers are drown out by another round of boos, but it takes a second for MacKenna to realize why. Just as she looks up she sees the statuesque Trisha Belle leaning at the top of the ramp, decked out in her ring garb. MacKenna stops for a second, then approaches her partner. "Hey, where were you when Super Slut laid me out with that DDT, Beautiful?" she asks with more than a little teasing sarcasm. Belle doesn't answer. After an awkward silence Rue continues, "Why are you dressed for a match? You aren't on the schedule tonigh-UGH!" Trisha stops her before Rue can finish her second question, throwing a hard surprise knee into MacKenna's stomach, bending her at the waist. Belle then hooks the redhead's arms, setting the hillbilly girl up for a Belle Toll to the top of the steel ramp.
The crack of Rue's forehead against the steel ramp is almost as sickening as it is loud. Even if she were fresh this would have winded her, but she isn't. She's tired and, confused, and surprised and all resistance she offers is token at best. But she still stirs, slowly, and pushes herself up to feeble arms. Red trickles pour from a gash above her left eye. She looks up at Trisha Belle, who she'd considered a friend. She doesn't sound hurt or sad – just utterly confused, as she forces out a tired, “Why, Boo?”
Trisha all but casually grabs a fistful of MacKenna's red locks to make eye contact. "Why? Because you lost. Because we were never friends. Because you've served your purpose. And because a team is only as strong as its weakest member, that would be you, and because this is a lesson to anyone and everyone in FAWN. " Belle forces Rue to her feet only to wrap strong forearms around MacKenna's throat in a sleeperhold. "Count yourself lucky I kind of liked you. If I didn't, I'd keep you awake for what I'm going to put you through." She jerks the sleeper firmly on her former protégé.
What happens next is something most FAWNatics considered unthinkable – the FAWNatics feel sympaty for Rue Ann MacKenna. Possibly because it's just so easy to hate to lovely Minnesota amazon, but the fans watch in rage and horror and Rue Ann struggles against her exhaustion and Trisha's sleeper, failing against both. Almost instantly Rue's face sets into a purple hue. She manages to hurl sharp elbows back into Trisha, connecting and reminding Belle the smaller woman can still hit, but Belle weathers the attempts and Rue Ann's jolting slows to a stop and the redhead goes limp in Trisha's arms.
Belle ruthlessly jerks the redhead back and forth like a rottweiler with a chew toy for a few moments more, the sleeper already KOing the smaller woman. After another moment, Trisha releases the hold and throws Rue's limp frame over her shoulder, easily carrying the ginger back to the ring for more punishment.
Empty cups and programs are tossed at Belle but she acts as though it's a ticker-tape parade. Belle climbs the ring's skirt and slides between the ropes to take center stage. The referee attempts to gain control. “Belle, you're not supposed to be out here. Let her go... now!” Trisha raises an eyebrow and smirks as she drops Rue's limp form to the mat. Knowing she isn't going to even consider stopping, he leans over the ropes and points to the time keeper. “Security! GET SECURITY!” The time keeper, already on the phone, shrugs.
“They're busy handling the guy who grabbed Crimson's mask.”
“ALL OF THEM?!” the ref barks. Behind him, Trisha cackles as she pulls Rue, using her hair as a handle.
“Now, your mother watches every match you do, doesn't she?” Belle asks Rue, as if she's awake to answer. “What a horrible night. First she sees you lose and now she sees this happen to her little girl.” Trisha peels Rue's singlet like a banana's skin, putting the pale beauty on display for all. Trisha's fingers disappear between Rue's thighs and set to slow, caressing work. At first, nothing occurs, but Rue begins to fidget. Her eyes flutter open as her loins tingle at Trisha's careful touch. Suddenly, Rue makes a brief gasp. Trisha smiles and leans into Rue's ear.
“Don't worry,” the Minnesotan sneers. “Being a loser only hurts the first time.” Quick as you like, Belle's hand goes from pleasing to clawing, tearing at Rue's womanhood as Trisha lifts her over her head in a gorilla press. The fans prepare for a slam but Trisha decides she needs to thoroughly break her toy, bringing Rue's back down across a knee.
Belle relishes MacKenna's scream from the harsh impact of her spine to Trisha's knee, but she soon scolds the hillbilly girl sardonically, "I thought I told you you'd want to sleep through this part?" The brunette then slides the smaller frame of Rue to a kneeling position, locks an arm around MacKenna's head as she cinches in a dragon sleeper, then decides to add on the humiliation, her free hand sliding past Rue's upturned navel and back between her thighs. "See, aren't I being nice? Putting you to bed and helping you have good dreams," she jokes as her fingers once again slide in and out of Rue's womanhood.
Rue bites her lip as the sensation in her womanhood races consciousness to see who will make it to the end. From Rue's breathing and sharp gasps, it seems like it will be pleasure. Instead, the sleeper bursts through the finish line before Rue bursts in her own way. The fans hate it, which is like fine wine to Trisha. Now, what to do?
Before she can answer, the arena goes dark. When they return, Trisha is empty handed. In the corner of the ring stands Crimson Dawn, gently laying the slumbering Rue behind her. The masked heroine gazes back at Trisha and points a gloved finger. “You are everything that's wrong here. You fight dirty and cheap. You are too craven for a fair fight. You turn on those who trust you because you have no honor.”
Trisha shakes her wet hand, flinging off the excess wet release, but her grin never vanishes. “My hand's covered with all the good honor brings you. But step a little closer so we can really discuss this.”
Enraged, Crimson steps forward…
And is promptly pulled back.
KELLI LOVE:
TRIXIE DECKER:
SELIA BRACH:
Holding Crimson's at bay is Kelli Love. Between Crimson and Trisha stand Trixie Decker and Selia Brach.
“What is this?” Crimson growls. “Evil calls – I must answer!”
“You've been fighting,” Love warns. “You wanna end up on injury leave like Moxie did?”
Crimson tries to shove Kelli aside. “I have to--”
“Pick your battles,” Kelli interrupts. Her tone is calming, something Crimson doesn't want right now, but Love seems an expert at soothing savage beasts. “Help me get Rue out of here and to medics. They won't come near the ring if there's a threat. That's more important.”
Crimson hates it, mostly because she knows Kelli's right. They bend down and haul Rue up, beating an expeditious retreat as Trixie and Selia stand guard.
Trisha places her hands on her hips. “Really? Why is it always MY fun you interrupt?”
Trixie shrugs. “I guess when some other gutless bitch who only wants to pick fights with fighters way smaller than her starts taking it too far, we'll show up for her, too, but really it just seems to always BE you.”
Trisha glares. “You're gonna regret that, Wednesday Addams.”
Trixie shrugs. “Regret goes hand in hand with running to Rue's defense.” Both smaller women take a defensive stance.
Trisha, Selia and Trixie circle toward one another, Belle isn't scared to mix it up with the super team. In fact, just as the good girls decide to go for Trisha, Belle lunges forward herself, connecting with a short distance but very powerful double clothesline that takes Brach and Decker to the mat.
Both woman land flat on their backs. Trisha smiles at her handiwork then looks towards Kelli and Crimson escorting Rue away. “HEY!” Belle blurts. “I wasn't done with that!” She starts to step but feels a tug on her leg. Trisha looks down and sees Trixie holding on to her boot. “Really, pipsq--” The words escape into a swear as Selia, on her other side, punches Trisha in the back of the knee. Immediately, both lightweights get to their feet and begin swarming onto Belle – taking punches but giving them as well. Trisha, new to being on the receiving end of two-on-one, obviously doesn't like it, and looks to position herself so neither can get behind her.
At the ramp, Crimson looks back in disgust. “I must help them,” she says. It sounds less like a demand and more like a plea.
“Is it helping anyone if you go in, weakened, and get mowed down?” Kelli says, adjusting Rue's arm around her neck. “There's a time and a place, Crimson. You go back and get hurt – and let's be honest, Trisha has no impulse control and she'll try to – you help no one but her.” She glances back at the ring as they cross the ramp and pass through the curtains. “Be brave, be valiant. But also, be smart.” Crimson opens her mouth to rebut but Kelli snaps a loud, forceful, “NO!”
The ring now out of their view, the disappear down the hallway. “I'm not used to hearing you forceful,” Crimson mutters.
Kelli shrugs. “You never paid me $350 an hour for it.”
Trisha sees Crimson dragging Rue through the curtain, all but ignoring Kelli. The sight angers her. These girls took away her toys before she was done with them. She even stops throwing fists at Selia and Trixie, the smaller girls try to get a few licks in, but Trisha just starts laughing, low and haunting like thunder. Selia stops, "Whats so damn funny?" she can't help but ask. Belle just says, " You took away my toy, but you left me two fresh ones." Then Trisha swings both forearms between each girl's legs, landing two simultaneous lowblows to bring Brach and and Decker down. The Minneapolis Monster then grabs both girls by the hair," Say goodnight with a little kiss, girls." she mocks the two, then slams their foreheads together as hard as she can.
Trixie goes down, cradling her forehead. Selia stumbles backwards, trying to shake the pain away. This defiance, to not merely fall down, is enough to draw Trisha's ire. Belle clutches Selia by the throat and lifts her. “Remember when I beat you and that little Native girl? Machi or Makki or whatever? Didn't you learn anything from that?”
Selia clutches at the large hand choking her. She sputters out, “Besides the fact you only pick fights you know you'll win.” Selia slams a fist into Belle's jaw, rattling her teeth. Brach packs a punch that even Trisha can't deny, but the brunette is currently running off anger and never lets go of Brach. Trisha is also much larger than the bodybuilder and no matter how strong Selia might be, she can't change the fact that someone that much smaller is easier to throw – right out of the ring, in fact. Brach lands with her back against the concrete.
Trisha looks at Trixie, who's beginning to stir but went down, at back at Selia outside the ring, who dared to oppose her. “Hmmm, which pisses me off more?”
Trisha decides to have her cake and eat it too, taking on one girl after the other. Belle quickly drags the rattled goth girl to her feet only to cinch her thighs around Trixie's head and hook her arms, setting up for the second Belle Toll of the night, and ready to charge the still reeling Brach outside the ring after she lays out Decker.
Trixie plants into the mat, but it's not as satisfying as Rue. No blood. Still, Decker flops to the mat. Outside the ring, though, Selia is on her feet. Belle releases Trixie and hops through the ropes, to the floor below. For her effort, she's greeted with a kick to the jaw just as her head pokes between cables. Trisha steams a little as those hits are beginning to hurt. Belle's feet touch the ground before Selia hammers away at her midsection. The tiny fighter actually manages to back Trisha back to the barricade, making the brunette turn away to protect her belly. She sees a fan holding up a phone, recording it all. Trisha smiles, grabs it, and clutches it in her hand.
Selia grabs Trisha by the shoulder and spins her around. Trisha dashes the phone across Selia's face, shattering its glass cover. Blinded, Selia starts to back away but Trisha is on her like an owl on a mouse. “Oh, goodness. Dare I hope for a third Belle's Toll?” Trisha giggles. “Yes, I think I dare.”
With that, Trisha throws a knee up, this time nailing Selia's crotch, then sets up the finisher for its third victim tonight. "Say goodnight, sweetheart."
Selia collides with the concrete floor and goes still. Again, the bell rings for security but in typical FAWN fashion, none come. Instead, at the ramp, two other figures appear.
MOXIE SAVAGE:
ALOISIA BERGE:
Moxie throws up her arms to the cheers of the fans, but there's a sway to her. She seems not quite there, almost drunk. Berge, however, looks annoyed and frustrated. The women hurry down the ramp, Aloisia bee-lining for her wounded friends.
“Here to avenge Rue, too?” Trisha scoffs.
“Nein,” Berge replies. “Why do I care if you hurt her? She more than deserves is.” Aloisia slides into the ring and checks on Trixie. “As far as I'm concerned, you could cripple her for life and nothing is lost.”
It's not the reaction Trisha expected. Even Moxie seems taken aback.
“Aren't we--?” Moxie starts as she catches up.
“Why?” Berge cuts in.
“They're our friends,” Moxie slurs. As fans get a better look at Savage, it's obvious she isn't fully recovered from a beating she took months ago. Moreover, her sway is one courtesy of a bottle or so of vodka. Some are disappointed but many still cheer her on.
“Yes, and they made a dumb choice to run to the side of a wild pig needing to be put down.” Aloisia checks on Trixie. She'll be fine. Seemingly ignoring Trisha, she looks to Moxie. “Grab the little one?”
Trisha stares at Aloisia, almost impressed, as she steps on and over Selia to get closer to the ring. Belle tries to get Aloisia's attention. “You're getting pretty icy, Elsa. This could be a more fun you.”
Trisha shoves the slurring and swaying Moxie aside. "Run along and let the adults talk." she mocks Moxie openly. The mocha skinned Detroit native steps forward in frustration, but her anger and the vodka make hardly capable of defending against Belle. Trisha snaps at Savage like a cobra when she approaches again, swinging a harsh headbutt, then swiftly lifting Moxie's arm and striking her armpit with a surprise heart punch.
Aloisia sighs. She looks down at Trixie, who's rousing. “Go backstage. Check on Kelli and Crimson.” Trixie opens her mouth to protest but Aloisia hushes her. “Go, now.” Aloisia rises and Trixie, annoyed, leaves the ring.
“So you don't agree with your friends' crusade?” Trisha says. “I thought everyone deserves saving.”
“If trash wishes to take out trash, why should I care,” Aloisia replies. The insult was obvious but it seems to please Trisha instead.
“See, that makes sense,” Belle replies. “Why run to every little fight? Why not let me have fun with the loser? Who would it have hurt? Besides her, I mean.”
“The sewers are small,” Aloisia says, crossing her arms. “I'm sure you rats will scurry across each other's paths again.”
Moxie, clutching her chest, rights herself. “C'mon, 'Lozya! Let's take this bitch down!”
This strikes Trisha's fancy and she laughs. “Moxie, I'm not a nip bottle of cheap liquor. You're not taking anything down but your liver.” She practically dares Moxie to advance. Looking back to Aloisia, Belle smiles almost sweetly. “Does it bother you knowing you're the only one in your group with common sense?” She tilts her head. “And easily the best body. You know, it's been too long since I stripped it.”
Berge doesn't take the bait, merely crossing her arms and staring. But Moxie, seeing an opportunity while Aloisia has her attention, decides it's time to lunge in for an attack.
Moxie's current state has her telegraphing everything and Trisha easily sidesteps the lunge, gracefully slipping behind Moxie and applying a sleeper. "Just take a nap, Sorority Jane." Belle mocks Savage's drinking again.
This is enough for Aloisia. She immediately rolls under the bottom rope and slugs Trisha across the jaw, spilling her and Moxie to the floor. Moxie, now free from the sleeper, spills to the side. Trisha pulls her up and points to Selia. “Check on her, please.”
Moxie, offended, shoves back. “You're not my boss. Let's end this slut.” The liquor fumes from her breath almost make Aloisia's eyes water.
“Please,” Aloisia says, pleading.
Trisha gets to her feet, rubbing her jaw. “Getting real tired of this shit,” she says.
“Then let's put you to bed,” Aloisia snaps, locking up with Belle.
Even on the backfoot Trisha manages to overpower Berge, her power starting to force Aloisia back just before Trisha swings a kick between the cocoa skinned beauty's legs. "I think you and your braincell pickling friend are the ones due for a nap. Lets have you join little Selia in Dreamland, shall we?" Belle almost giggles as she locks Berge into a dragon sleeper. "This should feel familiar, honey. One of your crowning achievements in this league was when the Marceaux sisters put you down and out with this." Trisha gets chatty, knowing that Aloisia is someone who never gets over her failures.
Aloisia fumes, torn between coughing and lamenting the ache shooting from her crotch. Still, she isn't down yet. As Belle tightens the hold and rests her breasts atop Aloisia's, pondering all the fun she'll have shortly, Berge's feet begin bracing on the floor. Trisha looks up just in time to see Aloisia, doing every cheerleader proud, kicking her leg all the way up and smacking Trisha between the eyes. It hurts enough to momentarily and Belle breaks the hold.
Aloisia jumps from Belle and spins around, grabbing the Minnesota Menace by her ankles and preparing to stomp back some revenge in her nether regions. Revenge, sadly, is not to be, as Aloisia takes a mighty blow. Not from Trisha, but from Moxie. In her drunken stupor, Savage has taken a folding chair and, doing sloppy math, aimed where it needs to come down to take Trisha out. However, she never adjusts her math – or aim – for Aloisia escaping and going on the offensive. The chair slams down on Berge's crown so hard, with such force, Moxie dents the seat. The German drops instantly. Moxie stands, staring, still not fully comprehending what just happened.
Moxie's eyes focus at the crumpled mass at her feet when what she's done penetrates the cloud over her brain. “Oh,” she grumbles.
“Oh, indeed,” Trisha says as she lands a kick onto the chair, slamming it into Savage's face. The punk rock princess tumbles backwards, slamming her head on the floor. The lush tended to, Trisha looks back to the German, disappointed it was friendly fire that took her down. Still, a gift is a gift. She stoops over Berge, palming the breasts barely contained in Aloisia's red bikini top. “I think these have gotten bigger,” she muses, slashing at them with her nails. Berge stirs, but barely.
“I think someone needs to wake up so we can really have fun,” Trisha says as she slips a hand into the waistband of Aloisia's bottoms, feeling for her womanhood. As she seeks out her hidden treasure, FAWN security appears at the entrance ramp. Trisha frowns. Playtime is at an end. Out of the corner of her eye, Trisha sees another fan, his phone out. He sees her notice this and, remembering what she did with the last phone, pulls back from Belle. Trisha rushes over to him. “Gimme! I'm not gonna break it!”
The fan, nervous, hems and haws. “I can't afford to replace it.”
“Trust me, you're going to get an amazing keepsake.” Belle yanks the phone from his hand and hurries back to Aloisia and yanks the prone woman's bottoms down to expose her. Trisha, placing her head next to Berge's sex, takes a grinning selfie. As soon as she clicks the picture, Belle reaches up and slaps Aloisia awake. The first thing Berge sees as she comes to is Trisha's face. The second thing she sees is the camera and a picture of the aggressor and her own lower half.
Trisha shakes her head. “For once, can you not ruin a selfie by making duck lips?” Aloisia fumes as Trisha tosses the camera back to the fan, rushing from ringside before security can intervene.
“Ladies and gentlemen, our next match is a standard bout. First, from Bath County, Kentucky.. standing at five feet, four inches and one hundred twenty-five pounds…. RUE ANN MACKENNA!”
RUE ANN MACKENNA:
“BURY THEM DEEP” BY GHOULTOWN:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=P_kn2rtuc4o
The booing is deafening, swamping Rue's music. To the shapely redhead, it's just a better soundtrack. Rue shimmies to the ring, enjoying the view of people who obviously hate her but also crane their necks to drink every bit of her in. When she finally arrives to the ring, Rue pulls herself up, faces the fans, and bends over dramatically to slip between the ropes backwards. Everyone gets a good view of her rack and, in a few areas of the arena, boos switch to applause. She saunters to her corner for the usual desperate attempt by the ref to find a foreign object – as if her barely there singlet could hide anything.
After the check, Rue yawns. "Is Wonderschmuck here yet? Or did you guys finally spray the rafters down for flying pests?”
The lights in the arena again go out and the crowd bursts into cheers. The FAWNatron shows Crimson Dawn's signal, the red rising sun, as her entrance music plays.
“SERENADA SCHIZOPHRENA” BY DANNY ELFMAN:
www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=73BzbXYpnVY
CRIMSON DAWN:
The crowd is shocked though as a spotlight shines into the rafters and for once, no hero is to be found. They gasp. The light searches for a moment before the arena lights suddenly come up, giving the crowd something to pop about. Perched, on Rue's own corner, on the top rope, crouched, wearing her black cat suit, red boots, red leather gloves, red cape and black mask is Crimson Dawn. Her strawberry blonde hair loose for all to see. She suddenly jumps, flipping over her opponent and to the canvas, facing Rue, and backing up towards her own corner. Popping the snaps of her cape, she lets it drop in her corner as she keeps her eyes locked on her opponent.
Rue grins. “Love the new mask,” Rue chirps. “It really brings out your bruised ego.” She stretches, more to give a display than to prepare. “Between what Eva pulled on you and the working the Dunbar Sisters gave you, I kinda think this isn't about justice. I think this is about being put in your place.” MacKenna crooks her head. “Is that what you need, Crimmy? A little brutality makes the catsuit damp? I bet that really lubes the slide down the Crimson Pole into the Loser Cave.”
Rue steps to the center of the ring. “I don't want your mask. I don't want your secret identity. I just want to hurt you.” Rue Ann raises her hands for a test of strength. “So, let's start the Crisis of the Infinite Humiliations, okay?”
Crimson's eyes narrow as she walks towards the center. She listens to Rue's taunts and looks at the hands raised. The crowd warning the hero not to go for the test of strength. Screaming at her no to trust the southern wrestler. Her right hand lifting towards Rue's, she suddenly runs under her arm trying to lock it up into a hammer lock. Stomping the canvas as she does, the crowd going wild as Crimson goes on the offensive early.
Crimson cinches the hold tight, but Rue doesn't react beyond a few grunts to recognize the discomfort. Instead, the Kentucky beauty reaches back with her free hand, cups it behind Crimson's head, and immediately drops to her butt. Gravity gives the assist and the vigilante finds her head traveling with her foe – immediately releasing the hammerlock. Crimson's face bounces off Rue's shoulder during the landing and she flops back to the mat. Both women jump to their feet, Rue barely beating the strawberry blonde and sending a kick for her cheek.
Crimson's seeing stars as she gets to her feet from the landing of her chin against Rue's shoulder. Holding her forehead as she steadies herself on her feet to face Rue once more when 'UNGH!" there's a loud clap of Rue's sole slapping hard against her cheek. Turning her to the side as she holds her face with a grunt. Shaking her head trying to get back on the offensive as the crowd boos.
Crimson isn't allowed a lot of time to collect herself as an elbow catches the masked wrestler in the ribs. Despite her size and seemingly pixie features, Rue Ann packs power and the hero's side throbs as she spins to face the assailant. Another kick aims for Crimson's face but she guides it away. Rue sends a punch by Crimson catches the arm, yanks, and pulls Rue into a knife edged chop above the breasts. Rue clutches the impact and her eyes flare. Just as she's about to plow into Crimson, the referee steps in.
“Ropes!” he yells. Sure enough, Rue has backed Crimson to the cables. Rue looks at Crimson, smiles, and does the unthinkable.
She backs away, letting Crimson get off the ropes.
Crimson stays on the ropes, taking a deep breath and trying to come up with a strategy as she begins to circle out. Crouching, watching the Kentucky girl closely as she does. Her gloved fingers wiggling as she looks for an opening. She feigns going for a collar and elbow lock up, but instead brings herself in low. Aiming her shoulder square for Rue's abs hoping to knock the wind from her and take her down to the canvas.
Rue Ann collides with the mat, releasing a gust of air as she hits hard. Crimson tries desperately to pin her but can't even get a one count on the bucking ginger. Rue thrusts an open palm into Crimson's throat, forcing her off slightly. The referee immediately reacts. “No closed fists!”
Both women glance at him as he realizes it was a bad call. “Sorry,” the sheepish official mutters. “I'm just so used to her cheating.”
Before Rue can protest, an arm wraps around her neck and yanks her up. The heroine, to the fans' pleasure, clasps a tight headlock on Rue and yanks her around. She shoves and pulls but Crimson's not going anywhere. Desperate times, Rue Ann hauls back with an open palm ready to strike the back of Crimson's knee.
Crimson grits her teeth as she wrenches and twists at Rue's head. Trying to wear the ginger down as she struggles. She grunts as she feels the slap against her leg, bending her knee on the impact. Grunting as she falls to one knee. She decides to twist and roll trying to take Rue with her and roll her down to the mat in the process.
Crimson manages to roll onto her back, yanking Rue down to the mat with her. Rue gasps, her face turning a slight pink, as she flails at Crimson's side. They aren't down long before the open palm swats down on Crimson's belly. And again. And again. Again, she packs more punch than she looks and, though it doesn't cause a break in the hold, Crimson loosens just enough for MacKenna to pry the arm from her throat and scoot up.
As Rue bolts up and steadies herself on the ropes, the referee chides. “I told you no closed--”
“I DIDN'T PUNCH HER!” Rue blurts. She looks at Crimson, demandingly, while leaning on the cables. “Did I punch you? Did I?”
The referee shifts uncomfortably. “I'm… I'm just used to--
Rue shoves past him, pacing around the ring. She sizes up Crimson. “Gotta admit, supes. You're better than you look. I don't compliment lightly.” The Kentucky girl pops her neck. “A steady anti-psychotic and you could be a powerhouse here.” Rue Ann slowly raises a hand for a test of strength.
Crimson pushes up to her feet, rubbing her stomach a little. She's been shocked so far by Rue playing by the rules, the crowd warning her not to take the test of strength. Having avoided the first test, Crimson decides she should show some trust of her own. Reaching out, lacing her gloved fingers with Rue's bare ones before she starts to push hard against her.
Rue accepts Crimson's hand, then holds up her other mitt for the vigilante. As soon as Crimson takes it, both women begin to push. The fans continue to call out, panicked and worried for the eventual dirty trick from MacKenna. In truth, it affects Crimson a little. She can't help but expect a boot to the gut or even a chair from behind from Rue's usual partner-in-crime, Trisha Belle. It doesn't come, however. Instead, the heroine feels herself buckling and giving way and the solid little powerhouse that is Rue begins to force her down, slowly, to her knees. A maniacal look spreads across Rue's face. This is it. This is where the dirty pool comes in.
“Daughter of Jor-El,” Rue booms, “KNEEL BEFORE ZOD!”
Crimson, forced down to both knees, stares up in confusion. Rue gives a tiny giggle.
“Sorry,” Rue says with a head shake, never releasing her hold. “That's for my mama. She loves the old Reeves Superman.” And with that, holding both of Crimson's hands, Rue sends down a full-force headbutt to the good girl.
Gritting her teeth, Crimson starts to push back up when "UNGH!" the headbutt cracks hard against her forehead. It would have been even worse were she not wearing the mask, but the rising from the canvas into the impact of the hillbilly's skull has the heroine dazed. Falling back to her knees, her head hanging in front of her as she tries to shake off the effects.
MacKenna sails her knee up into Crimson's chin. The heroine pulls away, clutching her lower jaw, but the Kentucky girl just cups her own hand behind Crimson's head and throws her, face first, to the mat. The referee opens his mouth but Rue, walking to Crimson's feet, holds up a hand. “I didn't pull her hair.” Rue grabs one of Crimson's feet and lifts it. Stomping her bare foot in the small of the masked crusader's back, Rue Ann begins twisting the foot as far as it will go, trying hard to push boundaries.
The official falls to the mat, but Crimson doesn't wait to ask. “NO! I do NOT submit!” Instead, she palms the mat and pulls towards the ropes. Rue, less than thrilled by this idea, raises an elbow, aims it for the strawberry blonde's back, and drops.
Dawn is a few inches from the ropes when "UNHG!" Rue's elbow digs in hard in between her shoulder blades, right into her spine! She screams out in pain, her arms and legs spreading out like a star fish from the impact. Groaning, she tries to roll to her back, hoping to get the hillbilly off of her and to get to the ropes, needing to find a way to slow her opponent's momentum before it overwhelms her.
Crimson pushes against the mat, but Rue bears down. The hillbilly raises an open palm and brings it down against the back of Crimson's skull, grinding her face into the mat for a minute. For an encore, Rue bell claps her opponent's ears. Crimson Dawn snarls and she again pushes against the mat but Rue has had enough of her struggling. Instead, she crouches over the fan favorite's back, pulls her arms back, and cups under Crimson's chin for a camel clutch.
Crimson's neck is pulled back. She grits her teeth, her boots kicking the canvas as she tries to shake her head in the chin lock. Wincing as she grits her teeth, the ref checking her once again. "NO! I do NOT!" Trying to get her hands gripped around her opponent's calves as Rue increases the pain to her back.
Rue frowns. She knew Crimson wouldn't submit, not this fast, but she still hoped. Rue releases her grip and, like a rubber band, Crimson snaps to the mat. MacKenna reaches down, latches her arms around Crimson's waist, and pulls her up like a half-stuffed scarecrow. The country girl squeeze, crushing her arms around C.D.'s waist and jerking her around a bit before throwing her back over her head in a suplex. Crimson lands on the base of her neck and flops to the side. Rue Ann struts back towards her, grabs her from behind again, and repeats the dance, once more suplexing her backwards. This time, Crimson lands on her crown.
The heroine does her best to get up but instantly stumbles and flops back on her side. I have to gather my wits, Crimson thinks. But she can feel Rue's bare feet slapping against the mat, advancing. The heroine ducks from the ring, rolling under the bottom rope, and practically collapses to the arena floor. She's not proud of it, but it's a tactical retreat. A necessity. And she's dizzy. It's too much advantage to allow Rue Ann.
Crimson tries to stand, shaking her head side to side. She'll be fine in a minute… in a…. The hero grabs onto the barricade and slides to a knee, wincing as everything spins. She's not that hurt – certainly not out of the match – but Rue Ann managed to land her so everything is spinning a bit. That's when it happens.
Crimson feels fingers touching the corner of her mask.
She looks up. Looming above her, is Rue Ann. Crimson's heart pounds as she grabs Rue's wrist. Then, a snap – a loud pop of bone breaking. It's not from Crimson. It's not Rue's wrist. It's from the fingers Rue Ann pulls away from the corner of Crimson's mask, the fingers of a fan who reached through the barricade for a special souvenir.
Rue Ann looks past Crimson, at the screaming man whose finger she just broke. In a low, angry voice – different from the giggly country girl twang Rue Ann usually babbles in, MacKenna growls at the FAWNatic. “Never touch a wrestler again. Do you understand? NEVER.” He sobs. Softer, Rue Ann speaks again. “Crimson, I'll meet you in the ring. I wanna make sure security takes this guy away.”
Crimson groans, pushing up, stumbling to her feet as she makes her way back to the ring. Stopping at the ring apron to catch her breath. Groaning she starts to pull herself up, rolling under the bottom rope. Confused, not sure if Rue is the opponent she came into this match thinking she was.
The cobwebs are clearing as Crimson retreats to a corner. Rue Ann follows after security escorts the wailing fan away, just as she notices the ref was counting and at seven. “Seriously?” Rue rolls under the ropes, hops up, and points at him. “You? You're a douche.”
Fans, getting over the shock of Rue stepping in when Crimson needed her, have begun applauding both women and chanting the praises of good sportsmanship. Rue Ann steps on that immediately. “Oh, shut up! This is still gonna end with one of us stripped and covered in lady juices. I just don't want any of your disgusting germs on my chew toy!” This resets the fans to their default “Hate Rue Ann” setting and she smiles. Rue looks back to Crimson. “Is your batcave still cluttered or are we doing this?” She stomps towards Crimson, meeting her in a lock-up.
Crimson circles a moment as Rue begins stomping towards her. She smiles ever so slightly. "You put on a show, but deep down you're not the villain you want us all to think you are." She slams in for the collar and elbow lock up. Her boots digging into the canvas. She lets her forehead rest on Rue's as she tries to back her up before sliding the Hillbilly into a headlock.
Crimson locks her arm around Rue's neck. From the depths of her hold, Rue laughs. “Hon, I never said I'm a villain.” Crimson feels Rue Ann's mitts grab onto her side and lift. The headlock is still in place, but MacKenna cradles the masked fighter to her generous breasts. “If you need a simplistic duality of good and evil to define you, great. You do you, boo. But me?” Rue Ann lifts Crimson a big more before releasing, catching her in the back with a raised knee. The headlock vanishes and Crimson rolls off Rue's knee and to the mat.
“I'm not a simple, two-sided coin.” MacKenna grabs Crimson's wrist as she drops to her butt on the mat. Placing a foot on either side of Crimson Dawn's arm at the shoulder joint, Rue once again returns to her high pitched twangy voice. “Tell ya what, I'll be happy to give to my dissertation on 'Beyond Good and Evil' later. It'll be something to enjoy while your tongue deep in my lap.” Rue straightens her legs and begins to twist the wrist.
Crimson winces in pain as her shoulder's pulled hard. Feeling the soles press into her side through the material of her outfit. Gritting her teeth she tries to claw at the canvas with her gloved hands. Finally she moves her hand to her shoulder trying to rub it to get some relief.... then darts her hand towards Rue's left foot. Pressing her thumb hard into the ball of the foot as her fingers push into the top to add some pressure, trying to force Rue to break the hold!
Now it's Rue's turn to wince. She tries to bend Crimson's wrist more, but as the masked one starts driving her knuckle into the bottom of MacKenna's foot she finds herself forced to release. The flaming redhead hops back and clutches her foot, massaging it. “Goddamn! Is this junior high? Gonna give me a charlie horse!” She looks up and sees Crimson on her feet. Rue jumps to her own and storms the blonde, an arm raised for a clothesline.
Crimson moves quickly, seeing Rue coming in extending her arm. Ducking down she moves left and gets under the Hillbilly's clothesline attempt. Turning, she tries to wrap her arms around MacKenna's waist and she lifts up, returning the earlier suplex favor to her fiery opponent, looking to take some wind from her sails.
Up and over Rue Ann goes – where she lands? Everyone knows. On the back of her skull, in fact. Crimson holds for a pin.
ONE…
T--
Rue Ann bucks out, landing on her side. She pushes up to hands and knees as Crimson walks towards her. Rue slams an open palm against Crimson's knee and the heroine backs up a step, but promptly retakes it and drops an elbow on Rue Ann's upper back. It's Rue's turn to flatten to the mat. But then she feels gloved hands grabbing her leg and knows payback is nigh, so she frantically scrambles to grab rope.
Crimson knows she has to try to keep her momentum up. Still holding Rue's foot she pulls back trying to keep the hillbilly from the ropes. Placing one knee on the back of Rue's knee, one gloved hand on her bare heel the other on her toes, Crimson twists the leg, placing a tight ankle lock in place as she does. Trying to keep her from crawling further or at least slow her down once she does get up.
Pounding on the mat, Rue bucks and jolts to escape the hold but Crimson isn't interested in letting go for anything. The referee checks for submission, but Rue shakes her head. “Hell, no!” she bellows. Crimson leans into the hold, grinding her knee in place. Rue responds with a slew of obscenities and a hand flailing backwards, slapping at the foot Crimson's bracing the heroine. If she can just grab the boot, maybe Rue and pull her off balance.
Gritting her teeth wrenching the hold, trying to get a submission or at least slow Rue down when "UNGH!" her leg's pulled out from under her as she releases the foot and tries to roll away back to the center of the ring and up to her knees.
Crimson rolls and looks towards Rue, horrified to see MacKenna not just on her feet but barreling towards her. But as soon as the Kentucky beauty is in reach she's met with a boot stomp to the gut – a reminder that on one's back isn't the same as helpless. MacKenna doubles over, clutching her belly, but Crimson has more to give. A leg sweep and Rue's down. Immediately, Crimson goes for a cover.
ONE…
TW--
Rue hoists and tosses Crimson yet again, but there's heavy breathing. Rue sits up and pets her knee. It smarts more than she wants to admit. Slowly, Rue looks towards where she shoves Crimson. All she sees, though, is a boot aimed at her head.
The boot cracks hard against Rue's temple, flattening her to the canvas. The heroine grabs Rue's right arm and ankle and pulls her closer to the center. Crimson makes her way to the ropes and slides through them onto the ring apron. Walking to the nearby turnbuckle she begins to climb until she is at the top. Turning to the crowd she leaps off in a back flip, spinning herself to aim her body for Rue's midsection, going for her finisher the "Crimson Splash"
The masked wonder slams down on Rue's prone form and immediately rolls her up for a pin.
ONE...
TWO…
THR--
To the jeers of all in attendance, Rue Ann arches out of the pin, lifting her shoulders and would-be vanquisher from the canvas before flipping onto her side. Crimson stares, stunned that the little powerhouse is still going after her finisher. And impressed. And annoyed, really.
Crimson pulls Rue up by her arms and whips her to the ropes. Rue's hurting, and dazed, but she can see the body language Crimson’s telegraphing – a kick to the jaw's waiting for her return trip. MacKenna lowers her body to come in low with a shoulder block.
Crimson moves forward but "OOOOOF!" the wind rushes out of her, grunting as she lands on her back on the canvas. MacKenna on top of her. Wrenching her body she arches up trying to push the southern hellcat off of her waist with a grunt.
Rue tries for a pin but Crimson pushes her off and scrambles to the ropes. MacKenna takes her time getting up. She can no longer disguise how winded she is. Crimson sees it as an opportunity and rushes her to catch her off guard but Rue does all the catching, scooping Crimson up for a Michinoku Driver!
MICHINOKU DRIVER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=jThnXk_K7q8
Rue pulls Crimson's leg back for a pin as the heroine becomes one with the mat.
ONE....
Crimson groans on the canvas, her head between Rue's legs as her own leg is pulled up tight. Bending her free knee she pushes up and wrenches her shoulder looking to peel it from the canvas at the two count before she can be counted out in the pin!
“Just one!” the referee yelps. He thrusts a single finger in Rue's face. “ONE!”
“Yeah, I know,” MacKenna says. “I'm so glad your favorite is still in it to win it.” The referee gapes like a fish, muttering something about being impartial. Rue Ann heaves Crimson up and whips her to the ropes. Crimson bounds and returns, met with a kick across her jaw. Rue Ann manages to kick the masked marvel so hard, in fact, she spins three-sixty in place. When Crimson stops where she started, MacKenna grabs her around the waists, walks her to the corner, and sidewalk slams the strawberry blonde.
The fans wait for the pin but Rue doesn't cover. Instead, she scales the ropes and perches on top of the ring post. Attentive fans know how this ends – with Rue launching, landing on her ass on her opponent's gut and then going for a breast smother. She calls it her Kentucky Meat Shower. Others call it an effective end to a fight. The fans cringe as Rue Ann leaps from the ring post.
Fans hope, desperately, for a roll out or lifted legs from Crimson. What they get instead is a scream – a piercing shriek as all of Rue's weight lands perfectly in her middle of Crimson Dawn. She folds upwards at the impact and MacKenna instantly wraps her arms around the hero's head, pulling her deep between Rue's ivory orbs. The arms lock tighter than an iron collar and Crimson finds herself in a sweaty, oily prison.
As air becomes scarce and Crimson claws and pushes to no avail, Rue licks her lips. “Maybe you're right,” she whispers so only Crimson can her. “Maybe I am a good girl, 'cuz it's a mercy that I put you out so you don't get to fully experience everything my Boo and I are gonna do to you in a few minutes.”
Crimson struggles hard as Rue cinches her in. Groaning into Rue's cleavage as she does. Her hands sliding up and down Rue's sides as she struggles and tries to escape. Her boots drumming against the canvas. Her face pulled tight to Rue's oil and sweat slicked flesh. Her lips pressed tight into a forced kiss…
The fans see Crimson's hands reach out now, looking for help that doesn't come before dropping to her sides. Trapped in the barefoot beauty's coils, her shoulders lifting and falling slowly as she does...
The ref comes over, lifting Crimson's hand high in the air...
She lets it drop...
One!.....
The crowd worried now, silent as the ref reaches for Crimson's gloved hand a second time…
Lets it drop....
"TWO!"
... only once more and Rue has won the match...
The hand is lifted and....
Thr...NO!
Crimson's gloved hand stays high in the air. First in an open palm but clenching into a fist! Conserving her energy by not struggling against the hillbilly has paid off as she bends her knees now trying to push up!
The fans begin a steady chant of, “CRIM-SON! CRIM-SON!” as Crimson Dawn pushes up to shaky legs, bringing Rue and her juggy cage with her. A forearm slams into Rue's gut. She winces but holds on. Another. Another. And another, and finally Rue relents. Crimson's head, slick and oily, shoots from Rue's cleavage, her mouth rounding to take in as much oxygen as she can before she drives her skull against Rue's for a headbutt. The FAWNatics are on their feet not, but Rue nearly isn't. The shock and force take her by surprise and Dawn whips her to the ropes.
Still confused – this was s'posed to be all over – Rue seems almost hypnotized by her failure to end Crimson Dawn. She bounds from the cables and returns to the heroine, met with a knee to the belly. MacKenna folds over and Crimson locks a headlock onto her. Finally MacKenna snaps out of it, clawing to escape before the vigilante plants her with a DDT.
Crimson wraps her bicep around Rue's head tightly and rushes forward. Leaping into the air as the crowd cheers, she slams Rue's face to the canvas with a devastating DDT.
Winded, Crimson pushes to her feet. Taking a deep breath as she makes it to the corner she begins climbing the ropes once more. Facing the fans. She gets to the top and puts both arms in the air, before flipping backwards, going for a second Crimson Tide, hoping to slam her ab against the dazed hillbilly's on the way down!
Rue rolls onto her back just in time for Crimson to drop onto her like a ton of bricks.. The mountain girl quakes, then goes still. Crimson hooks Rue's leg for a pin.
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
The bell sounds and the fans go ballistic, almost drowning out the announcer. “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner – CRIMSON DAAAAAAAWN!”
Crimson pushes to her feet, an arm around her waist as the crowd cheers her on. The ref lifts her hand as he plants a boot on Rue's abs for only a moment. Suddenly the lights in the arena darken. When they return the heroine is gone from the arena!
Rue Ann pushes up to a sitting position. “Well, at least she doesn’t stick around to gloat,” she laughs.
The referee stares at her. “You didn't cheat. You always cheat.”
Rue cocks an eyebrow. “Or maybe I DID cheat and you just never saw it.”
The ref's eyes round out. “Really?”
MacKenna sighs deeply. “Please, do everyone a favor. Make no babies. And if you've already made them, eat them.”
She waits for no reply. Rue Ann rolls under the bottom rope and struts up the rant. The usual fan hate is there, of course, but now it's mixed with a bit of admiration from some of Crimson's most ardent fans. A few thank her for protecting Crimson's anonymity but Rue pays them no mind. The only fan she heeds is a young woman who leans over the barricade.
“You're a whore!” the woman shrieks. “You're gonna get what you deserve!”
Rue Ann smiles at her. “Aren't we all?” she asks as she ascends the ramp.
TRISHA BELLE:
The cheers are drown out by another round of boos, but it takes a second for MacKenna to realize why. Just as she looks up she sees the statuesque Trisha Belle leaning at the top of the ramp, decked out in her ring garb. MacKenna stops for a second, then approaches her partner. "Hey, where were you when Super Slut laid me out with that DDT, Beautiful?" she asks with more than a little teasing sarcasm. Belle doesn't answer. After an awkward silence Rue continues, "Why are you dressed for a match? You aren't on the schedule tonigh-UGH!" Trisha stops her before Rue can finish her second question, throwing a hard surprise knee into MacKenna's stomach, bending her at the waist. Belle then hooks the redhead's arms, setting the hillbilly girl up for a Belle Toll to the top of the steel ramp.
The crack of Rue's forehead against the steel ramp is almost as sickening as it is loud. Even if she were fresh this would have winded her, but she isn't. She's tired and, confused, and surprised and all resistance she offers is token at best. But she still stirs, slowly, and pushes herself up to feeble arms. Red trickles pour from a gash above her left eye. She looks up at Trisha Belle, who she'd considered a friend. She doesn't sound hurt or sad – just utterly confused, as she forces out a tired, “Why, Boo?”
Trisha all but casually grabs a fistful of MacKenna's red locks to make eye contact. "Why? Because you lost. Because we were never friends. Because you've served your purpose. And because a team is only as strong as its weakest member, that would be you, and because this is a lesson to anyone and everyone in FAWN. " Belle forces Rue to her feet only to wrap strong forearms around MacKenna's throat in a sleeperhold. "Count yourself lucky I kind of liked you. If I didn't, I'd keep you awake for what I'm going to put you through." She jerks the sleeper firmly on her former protégé.
What happens next is something most FAWNatics considered unthinkable – the FAWNatics feel sympaty for Rue Ann MacKenna. Possibly because it's just so easy to hate to lovely Minnesota amazon, but the fans watch in rage and horror and Rue Ann struggles against her exhaustion and Trisha's sleeper, failing against both. Almost instantly Rue's face sets into a purple hue. She manages to hurl sharp elbows back into Trisha, connecting and reminding Belle the smaller woman can still hit, but Belle weathers the attempts and Rue Ann's jolting slows to a stop and the redhead goes limp in Trisha's arms.
Belle ruthlessly jerks the redhead back and forth like a rottweiler with a chew toy for a few moments more, the sleeper already KOing the smaller woman. After another moment, Trisha releases the hold and throws Rue's limp frame over her shoulder, easily carrying the ginger back to the ring for more punishment.
Empty cups and programs are tossed at Belle but she acts as though it's a ticker-tape parade. Belle climbs the ring's skirt and slides between the ropes to take center stage. The referee attempts to gain control. “Belle, you're not supposed to be out here. Let her go... now!” Trisha raises an eyebrow and smirks as she drops Rue's limp form to the mat. Knowing she isn't going to even consider stopping, he leans over the ropes and points to the time keeper. “Security! GET SECURITY!” The time keeper, already on the phone, shrugs.
“They're busy handling the guy who grabbed Crimson's mask.”
“ALL OF THEM?!” the ref barks. Behind him, Trisha cackles as she pulls Rue, using her hair as a handle.
“Now, your mother watches every match you do, doesn't she?” Belle asks Rue, as if she's awake to answer. “What a horrible night. First she sees you lose and now she sees this happen to her little girl.” Trisha peels Rue's singlet like a banana's skin, putting the pale beauty on display for all. Trisha's fingers disappear between Rue's thighs and set to slow, caressing work. At first, nothing occurs, but Rue begins to fidget. Her eyes flutter open as her loins tingle at Trisha's careful touch. Suddenly, Rue makes a brief gasp. Trisha smiles and leans into Rue's ear.
“Don't worry,” the Minnesotan sneers. “Being a loser only hurts the first time.” Quick as you like, Belle's hand goes from pleasing to clawing, tearing at Rue's womanhood as Trisha lifts her over her head in a gorilla press. The fans prepare for a slam but Trisha decides she needs to thoroughly break her toy, bringing Rue's back down across a knee.
Belle relishes MacKenna's scream from the harsh impact of her spine to Trisha's knee, but she soon scolds the hillbilly girl sardonically, "I thought I told you you'd want to sleep through this part?" The brunette then slides the smaller frame of Rue to a kneeling position, locks an arm around MacKenna's head as she cinches in a dragon sleeper, then decides to add on the humiliation, her free hand sliding past Rue's upturned navel and back between her thighs. "See, aren't I being nice? Putting you to bed and helping you have good dreams," she jokes as her fingers once again slide in and out of Rue's womanhood.
Rue bites her lip as the sensation in her womanhood races consciousness to see who will make it to the end. From Rue's breathing and sharp gasps, it seems like it will be pleasure. Instead, the sleeper bursts through the finish line before Rue bursts in her own way. The fans hate it, which is like fine wine to Trisha. Now, what to do?
Before she can answer, the arena goes dark. When they return, Trisha is empty handed. In the corner of the ring stands Crimson Dawn, gently laying the slumbering Rue behind her. The masked heroine gazes back at Trisha and points a gloved finger. “You are everything that's wrong here. You fight dirty and cheap. You are too craven for a fair fight. You turn on those who trust you because you have no honor.”
Trisha shakes her wet hand, flinging off the excess wet release, but her grin never vanishes. “My hand's covered with all the good honor brings you. But step a little closer so we can really discuss this.”
Enraged, Crimson steps forward…
And is promptly pulled back.
KELLI LOVE:
TRIXIE DECKER:
SELIA BRACH:
Holding Crimson's at bay is Kelli Love. Between Crimson and Trisha stand Trixie Decker and Selia Brach.
“What is this?” Crimson growls. “Evil calls – I must answer!”
“You've been fighting,” Love warns. “You wanna end up on injury leave like Moxie did?”
Crimson tries to shove Kelli aside. “I have to--”
“Pick your battles,” Kelli interrupts. Her tone is calming, something Crimson doesn't want right now, but Love seems an expert at soothing savage beasts. “Help me get Rue out of here and to medics. They won't come near the ring if there's a threat. That's more important.”
Crimson hates it, mostly because she knows Kelli's right. They bend down and haul Rue up, beating an expeditious retreat as Trixie and Selia stand guard.
Trisha places her hands on her hips. “Really? Why is it always MY fun you interrupt?”
Trixie shrugs. “I guess when some other gutless bitch who only wants to pick fights with fighters way smaller than her starts taking it too far, we'll show up for her, too, but really it just seems to always BE you.”
Trisha glares. “You're gonna regret that, Wednesday Addams.”
Trixie shrugs. “Regret goes hand in hand with running to Rue's defense.” Both smaller women take a defensive stance.
Trisha, Selia and Trixie circle toward one another, Belle isn't scared to mix it up with the super team. In fact, just as the good girls decide to go for Trisha, Belle lunges forward herself, connecting with a short distance but very powerful double clothesline that takes Brach and Decker to the mat.
Both woman land flat on their backs. Trisha smiles at her handiwork then looks towards Kelli and Crimson escorting Rue away. “HEY!” Belle blurts. “I wasn't done with that!” She starts to step but feels a tug on her leg. Trisha looks down and sees Trixie holding on to her boot. “Really, pipsq--” The words escape into a swear as Selia, on her other side, punches Trisha in the back of the knee. Immediately, both lightweights get to their feet and begin swarming onto Belle – taking punches but giving them as well. Trisha, new to being on the receiving end of two-on-one, obviously doesn't like it, and looks to position herself so neither can get behind her.
At the ramp, Crimson looks back in disgust. “I must help them,” she says. It sounds less like a demand and more like a plea.
“Is it helping anyone if you go in, weakened, and get mowed down?” Kelli says, adjusting Rue's arm around her neck. “There's a time and a place, Crimson. You go back and get hurt – and let's be honest, Trisha has no impulse control and she'll try to – you help no one but her.” She glances back at the ring as they cross the ramp and pass through the curtains. “Be brave, be valiant. But also, be smart.” Crimson opens her mouth to rebut but Kelli snaps a loud, forceful, “NO!”
The ring now out of their view, the disappear down the hallway. “I'm not used to hearing you forceful,” Crimson mutters.
Kelli shrugs. “You never paid me $350 an hour for it.”
Trisha sees Crimson dragging Rue through the curtain, all but ignoring Kelli. The sight angers her. These girls took away her toys before she was done with them. She even stops throwing fists at Selia and Trixie, the smaller girls try to get a few licks in, but Trisha just starts laughing, low and haunting like thunder. Selia stops, "Whats so damn funny?" she can't help but ask. Belle just says, " You took away my toy, but you left me two fresh ones." Then Trisha swings both forearms between each girl's legs, landing two simultaneous lowblows to bring Brach and and Decker down. The Minneapolis Monster then grabs both girls by the hair," Say goodnight with a little kiss, girls." she mocks the two, then slams their foreheads together as hard as she can.
Trixie goes down, cradling her forehead. Selia stumbles backwards, trying to shake the pain away. This defiance, to not merely fall down, is enough to draw Trisha's ire. Belle clutches Selia by the throat and lifts her. “Remember when I beat you and that little Native girl? Machi or Makki or whatever? Didn't you learn anything from that?”
Selia clutches at the large hand choking her. She sputters out, “Besides the fact you only pick fights you know you'll win.” Selia slams a fist into Belle's jaw, rattling her teeth. Brach packs a punch that even Trisha can't deny, but the brunette is currently running off anger and never lets go of Brach. Trisha is also much larger than the bodybuilder and no matter how strong Selia might be, she can't change the fact that someone that much smaller is easier to throw – right out of the ring, in fact. Brach lands with her back against the concrete.
Trisha looks at Trixie, who's beginning to stir but went down, at back at Selia outside the ring, who dared to oppose her. “Hmmm, which pisses me off more?”
Trisha decides to have her cake and eat it too, taking on one girl after the other. Belle quickly drags the rattled goth girl to her feet only to cinch her thighs around Trixie's head and hook her arms, setting up for the second Belle Toll of the night, and ready to charge the still reeling Brach outside the ring after she lays out Decker.
Trixie plants into the mat, but it's not as satisfying as Rue. No blood. Still, Decker flops to the mat. Outside the ring, though, Selia is on her feet. Belle releases Trixie and hops through the ropes, to the floor below. For her effort, she's greeted with a kick to the jaw just as her head pokes between cables. Trisha steams a little as those hits are beginning to hurt. Belle's feet touch the ground before Selia hammers away at her midsection. The tiny fighter actually manages to back Trisha back to the barricade, making the brunette turn away to protect her belly. She sees a fan holding up a phone, recording it all. Trisha smiles, grabs it, and clutches it in her hand.
Selia grabs Trisha by the shoulder and spins her around. Trisha dashes the phone across Selia's face, shattering its glass cover. Blinded, Selia starts to back away but Trisha is on her like an owl on a mouse. “Oh, goodness. Dare I hope for a third Belle's Toll?” Trisha giggles. “Yes, I think I dare.”
With that, Trisha throws a knee up, this time nailing Selia's crotch, then sets up the finisher for its third victim tonight. "Say goodnight, sweetheart."
Selia collides with the concrete floor and goes still. Again, the bell rings for security but in typical FAWN fashion, none come. Instead, at the ramp, two other figures appear.
MOXIE SAVAGE:
ALOISIA BERGE:
Moxie throws up her arms to the cheers of the fans, but there's a sway to her. She seems not quite there, almost drunk. Berge, however, looks annoyed and frustrated. The women hurry down the ramp, Aloisia bee-lining for her wounded friends.
“Here to avenge Rue, too?” Trisha scoffs.
“Nein,” Berge replies. “Why do I care if you hurt her? She more than deserves is.” Aloisia slides into the ring and checks on Trixie. “As far as I'm concerned, you could cripple her for life and nothing is lost.”
It's not the reaction Trisha expected. Even Moxie seems taken aback.
“Aren't we--?” Moxie starts as she catches up.
“Why?” Berge cuts in.
“They're our friends,” Moxie slurs. As fans get a better look at Savage, it's obvious she isn't fully recovered from a beating she took months ago. Moreover, her sway is one courtesy of a bottle or so of vodka. Some are disappointed but many still cheer her on.
“Yes, and they made a dumb choice to run to the side of a wild pig needing to be put down.” Aloisia checks on Trixie. She'll be fine. Seemingly ignoring Trisha, she looks to Moxie. “Grab the little one?”
Trisha stares at Aloisia, almost impressed, as she steps on and over Selia to get closer to the ring. Belle tries to get Aloisia's attention. “You're getting pretty icy, Elsa. This could be a more fun you.”
Trisha shoves the slurring and swaying Moxie aside. "Run along and let the adults talk." she mocks Moxie openly. The mocha skinned Detroit native steps forward in frustration, but her anger and the vodka make hardly capable of defending against Belle. Trisha snaps at Savage like a cobra when she approaches again, swinging a harsh headbutt, then swiftly lifting Moxie's arm and striking her armpit with a surprise heart punch.
Aloisia sighs. She looks down at Trixie, who's rousing. “Go backstage. Check on Kelli and Crimson.” Trixie opens her mouth to protest but Aloisia hushes her. “Go, now.” Aloisia rises and Trixie, annoyed, leaves the ring.
“So you don't agree with your friends' crusade?” Trisha says. “I thought everyone deserves saving.”
“If trash wishes to take out trash, why should I care,” Aloisia replies. The insult was obvious but it seems to please Trisha instead.
“See, that makes sense,” Belle replies. “Why run to every little fight? Why not let me have fun with the loser? Who would it have hurt? Besides her, I mean.”
“The sewers are small,” Aloisia says, crossing her arms. “I'm sure you rats will scurry across each other's paths again.”
Moxie, clutching her chest, rights herself. “C'mon, 'Lozya! Let's take this bitch down!”
This strikes Trisha's fancy and she laughs. “Moxie, I'm not a nip bottle of cheap liquor. You're not taking anything down but your liver.” She practically dares Moxie to advance. Looking back to Aloisia, Belle smiles almost sweetly. “Does it bother you knowing you're the only one in your group with common sense?” She tilts her head. “And easily the best body. You know, it's been too long since I stripped it.”
Berge doesn't take the bait, merely crossing her arms and staring. But Moxie, seeing an opportunity while Aloisia has her attention, decides it's time to lunge in for an attack.
Moxie's current state has her telegraphing everything and Trisha easily sidesteps the lunge, gracefully slipping behind Moxie and applying a sleeper. "Just take a nap, Sorority Jane." Belle mocks Savage's drinking again.
This is enough for Aloisia. She immediately rolls under the bottom rope and slugs Trisha across the jaw, spilling her and Moxie to the floor. Moxie, now free from the sleeper, spills to the side. Trisha pulls her up and points to Selia. “Check on her, please.”
Moxie, offended, shoves back. “You're not my boss. Let's end this slut.” The liquor fumes from her breath almost make Aloisia's eyes water.
“Please,” Aloisia says, pleading.
Trisha gets to her feet, rubbing her jaw. “Getting real tired of this shit,” she says.
“Then let's put you to bed,” Aloisia snaps, locking up with Belle.
Even on the backfoot Trisha manages to overpower Berge, her power starting to force Aloisia back just before Trisha swings a kick between the cocoa skinned beauty's legs. "I think you and your braincell pickling friend are the ones due for a nap. Lets have you join little Selia in Dreamland, shall we?" Belle almost giggles as she locks Berge into a dragon sleeper. "This should feel familiar, honey. One of your crowning achievements in this league was when the Marceaux sisters put you down and out with this." Trisha gets chatty, knowing that Aloisia is someone who never gets over her failures.
Aloisia fumes, torn between coughing and lamenting the ache shooting from her crotch. Still, she isn't down yet. As Belle tightens the hold and rests her breasts atop Aloisia's, pondering all the fun she'll have shortly, Berge's feet begin bracing on the floor. Trisha looks up just in time to see Aloisia, doing every cheerleader proud, kicking her leg all the way up and smacking Trisha between the eyes. It hurts enough to momentarily and Belle breaks the hold.
Aloisia jumps from Belle and spins around, grabbing the Minnesota Menace by her ankles and preparing to stomp back some revenge in her nether regions. Revenge, sadly, is not to be, as Aloisia takes a mighty blow. Not from Trisha, but from Moxie. In her drunken stupor, Savage has taken a folding chair and, doing sloppy math, aimed where it needs to come down to take Trisha out. However, she never adjusts her math – or aim – for Aloisia escaping and going on the offensive. The chair slams down on Berge's crown so hard, with such force, Moxie dents the seat. The German drops instantly. Moxie stands, staring, still not fully comprehending what just happened.
Moxie's eyes focus at the crumpled mass at her feet when what she's done penetrates the cloud over her brain. “Oh,” she grumbles.
“Oh, indeed,” Trisha says as she lands a kick onto the chair, slamming it into Savage's face. The punk rock princess tumbles backwards, slamming her head on the floor. The lush tended to, Trisha looks back to the German, disappointed it was friendly fire that took her down. Still, a gift is a gift. She stoops over Berge, palming the breasts barely contained in Aloisia's red bikini top. “I think these have gotten bigger,” she muses, slashing at them with her nails. Berge stirs, but barely.
“I think someone needs to wake up so we can really have fun,” Trisha says as she slips a hand into the waistband of Aloisia's bottoms, feeling for her womanhood. As she seeks out her hidden treasure, FAWN security appears at the entrance ramp. Trisha frowns. Playtime is at an end. Out of the corner of her eye, Trisha sees another fan, his phone out. He sees her notice this and, remembering what she did with the last phone, pulls back from Belle. Trisha rushes over to him. “Gimme! I'm not gonna break it!”
The fan, nervous, hems and haws. “I can't afford to replace it.”
“Trust me, you're going to get an amazing keepsake.” Belle yanks the phone from his hand and hurries back to Aloisia and yanks the prone woman's bottoms down to expose her. Trisha, placing her head next to Berge's sex, takes a grinning selfie. As soon as she clicks the picture, Belle reaches up and slaps Aloisia awake. The first thing Berge sees as she comes to is Trisha's face. The second thing she sees is the camera and a picture of the aggressor and her own lower half.
Trisha shakes her head. “For once, can you not ruin a selfie by making duck lips?” Aloisia fumes as Trisha tosses the camera back to the fan, rushing from ringside before security can intervene.