Post by bigfan on Dec 4, 2016 6:41:08 GMT
The arena audience grows just slightly restless in their seats between matches as some familiar music starts up on the sound system.
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A loud jeering starts as Trisha Belle steps out from the curtain. The boos get even louder as she shows a microphone in her hand as she walks down the ramp, clad in her usual ring gear, obviously prepared to fight.
TRISHA BELLE:
"Now some of you may be surprised to see me at all tonight, let alone expect to see a match. FAWN's legal team has been trying to keep me away from the ring lately, due to some "unfortunate" injuries inflicted on several of my more recent opponents. So, I've been suspended."
She pauses for dramatic effect, but receives a pop of cheers and applause from the crowd, showing their support of that decision.
"Now don't worry. I've found a loophole in that particular part of the FAWN rulebook. Even suspended wrestlers can issue open challenges. So, I'm here to do just that. Can we get a ref down here ready to oversee this addition to the schedule?"
The FAWN staff near ringside shake their heads, one speaks up, "You need someone to accept the challenge, Trisha. If you don't have an opponent, you're technically trespassing while on a suspension. If no one wants to fight you, we get to kick you out."
Trisha nods, almost solemnly, "Fine." She takes a deep breath. "Does any girl without a match tonight have the guts to step in the ring with me?" Belle drops the mic for emphasis and gives a "Bring it on" gesture to the curtain at the top of the ramp, satisfied to take on anyone brave or dumb enough to take her challenge.
The crowd falls silent in anticipation, and five seconds passes.
Then ten.
Then fifteen.
Trisha smirks, and the FAWNatics begin booing when it appears that their appetite for violence will go unsated. Suddenly, the opening strains of Girls’ Generation’s “Gee” play over the FAWN Arena’s PA for the first time ever, sending a murmur through the audience. A few seconds later, Yoona Park steps through the curtain to a roar of approval from the crowd.
YOONA PARK:
Tonight, there will be blood.
Park had yet to fight in an official capacity at the FAWN Arena proper, although she had a fair amount of notoriety among the fans from her emotionally and sexually charged victory a few months ago in the Madhouse. Of course, there was also the fiasco with the Church of Eternal Midnight and fans who followed House Show results also knew of a recent tete-a-tete with Olivia Dare. Whatever the case, whether out of support for the Korean or hatred for Belle, the fans are firmly on Yoona’s side as she prepares for battle.
Rather than sing or dance as she did for her entrances in the Jungle or at various House Shows, Yoona is preoccupied with wrapping her hands with strips of coarse white cloth as she walks towards the ring in bare feet. To complete her outfit, she wears her customary black bikini briefs and a tight-fitting, dark grey tank top emblazoned with the words “F#CK THE IMPOSSIBLE” and a stylized rendering of a red rose growing from a crack in the sidewalk. Following her FAWNAMANIA victory, Camille had been chagrined to find that her official merch shirt featured that particular turn of phrase and she had implored Yoona to wear the “HOPE NEVER DIES” version instead, which of course only made the Korean more insistent on wearing the vulgar variant.
A referee sprints down from the entranceway and slides into the ring to officiate the imminent match, and Park ascends the ring steps while using her teeth to tighten the wraps on either hand. Once she’s satisfied with the wraps extending from knuckles to mid-forearm, she enters the ring by ducking in-between the top and middle ropes.
Trisha looks over her opponent as the referee checks her gear for weapons and paraphernalia. Whatever the Minnesotan sees, she’s not impressed.
“Sending some pop-star wannabe to do a wrestler’s job…” Belle scoffs disdainfully. “What are you gonna do, huh? Challenge me to a lip-sync battle?”
Yoona opens her mouth as if to say something, but then a puzzled look comes over her face and she scratches the back of her head.
“Usually this is the part where I offer some withering retort,” she says as she waggles an index finger, “But I don’t know who the fuck you are.”
She turns her attention to the referee who is heading over to inspect her and asks, “Ref, who the fuck is she?”
“Trisha Belle,” the man replies as he starts to check Park for hidden weapons.
The inspection doesn’t get very far, however, as Yoona steps out of the ring and walks over to the audience barricade. She pulls up her shirt to flash her bare breasts to the crowd, and when the fans pull out their phones to snap a picture, she quickly snatches a device.
“Siri, who the fuck is Trisha Belle?” she demands, which prompts the phone to bring up the official FAWN roster page.
“‘Minnesota Mauler…’” Park mutters to herself before calling out loud, “Hey is that where those fat-fucks wear wheels of cheese as hats?”
“No, that’s Wisconsin,” the fan says as he tries and fails to take his phone back.
“Whatever, I’ve already got the image of her wearing a cheese wheel stuck in my brain,” Yoona scoffs as she climbs back into the ring with the pilfered iPhone still in hand. “Hey, Cheesehead! Your name is Cheesehead now! Got it?”
Trisha narrows her eyes and glares daggers at the Korean, “You talk too much.”
“Yeah, I get that a lot,” Park replies with a smile.
Suddenly, Yoona whips the phone at Belle’s head from across the ring. Trisha manages to bat it aside before it strikes her in the face, but Park’s right fist smashes into her jaw a split second later. The Superman Sucker Punch causes her to stagger backwards and catch herself on the ropes as the referee quickly calls for the opening bell.
“Hey, you’re not out yet,” Yoona wonders out loud. “Hmm, must be one of those hard cheeses…”
“Guuhh, you bitch,” Belle growls as she holds her jaw. “You're fucking dead!”
With a savage snarl Trisha launches herself forward with her right arm outstretched and tries to remove Park’s head from her shoulders with a Clothesline. The ex-ballerina is blessed with impeccable rhythm, balance, and footwork, however, so she deftly sidesteps to Belle’s left and lands a Left Hook to the ribs followed a Right Cross to the jaw just as the Minnesota Mauler lunges past.
Trisha staggers to a halt, though her legs hold steady. She shakes the cobwebs out of her head, then turns around to face her opponent just in time to eat a Flying Knee directly on the chin. The powerful strike might have knocked her flat on her back had she been in the middle of the ring, but instead she leans backwards onto the ropes and remains upright. Somehow Belle retains the mental clarity to realize her opponent is right in front of her, and she loops her powerful arms around Yoona’s waist right as the Korean is descending from her Flying Knee.
“Gotcha now, you slippery little tramp,” Belle says as she tightens her grip and lifts Park high off the mat with a crushing Bear Hug.
Yoona allows herself one brief hiss of pain, then immediately gets to work on her escape. Wrapping her legs around her captor’s hips, she yanks Trisha’s head backwards with a handful of hair, then raises her right arm and proceeds to drop vertical Elbow Strikes directly into Belle’s upturned face.
THWACK!
THWACK!
THWACK!
After a triplet of elbows, Trisha decides that she’s had enough, and she swings around and flings Yoona away. Park lands on her left shoulder with a grunt then rolls to absorb the impact before pushing to her haunches in the middle of the ring. Belle is quickly on the counter offensive and she charges forward before her foe can get fully upright. Whatever she had planned would remain a mystery, however, as Yoona short-circuits the assault by diving out of the way, scissoring her legs around Trisha’s right calf, and sending Belle crashing face first to the mat with a Drop Toehold.
Trying to keep her bigger, stronger opponent grounded, Park immediately scrambles over to wrap both of her legs around Trisha’s right thigh, crossing her ankles just above the curve of Belle’s rear end. Yanking on the back of opponent’s right heel with both hands, Yoona arches her back to use her hip as a fulcrum to hyperextend Trisha’s knee with a vicious Knee Bar.
“I think a lip-sync battle would have been less embarrassing for you, Cheesehead,” Yoona snorts as she shifts her head left and right to dodge Belle’s wildly flailing left leg.
“You scrawny bitch!” Trisha hisses. “I’ll rip your fucking spine out!”
Left with no other recourse, the Minnesota Mauler starts crawling for the ropes. Fortunately for her, Park was not a particularly large woman, and Trisha is able to make good forward progress even with Yoona’s deadweight latched onto her right leg. Soon enough she’s able to wrap a hand around the bottom rope. Yoona surrenders the Knee Bar after the official counts to “FOUR!” then gets up and backs off to the other side of the ring.
Belle stands up gingerly, testing her right knee before putting more weight on it once she’s sure the limb will hold. Nostrils flaring in anger, Trisha has to fight to resist the urge to rush forward again, as the agile Korean was too light on her feet for such a tactic to work. She takes a few calming breaths, raises her arms into a guard in front of her face, then advances on her opponent with a far more measured tread.
Even so, Yoona is content to slowly pick her opponent apart at a distance, never quite committing to a big power shot and instead electing to force Belle to die a death by a thousand cuts. Every time Trisha gets close, Park strikes with Shin Kicks to the knee or Left and Right Hooks to the body before pivoting to safety. Nevertheless, Belle is determined and inexorable even as she eats shot after shot after shot, constantly adjusting her angle of approach to try to corner the slick striker.
Finally, after what seems to be a dozen unanswered blows, Park makes a gaffe. After she darts forward to land a pair of Left Uppercuts to Trisha’s solar plexus, she immediately hops backwards to create distance once more. Only instead of smoothly backstepping away, she feels the bwung of the corner turnbuckles against her back. It is perhaps an excusable mistake, as she was still relatively green when it came to combat inside a professional ring, but it is a grave mistake nonetheless.
“Ah, shit,” Yoona mutters to herself when she realizes that her poor ring awareness has put her in a bad spot, and that’s about all she can do before Belle lunges forward and wraps both hands around her neck.
“My turn, you K-Pop piece of shit!” Trisha snarls while throttling Park in the corner. The referee delivers an ineffectual reprimand to Belle about her blatantly illegal choke, then he starts his five-count towards disqualification.
Once the count hits “THREE!” Trisha sends a burst of strength through her arms and hoists Yoona by the neck, then she spins 180 degrees towards the center of the ring and powers Park into the deck with a massive Sitout Spinebuster. Yoona bounces a good six inches off the canvas, and the agonized croak that escapes her mouth would have likely been a full-throated scream had it not been for the pair of hands crushing her windpipe.
Trisha pounces on the downed Korean, pushing her advantage as soon as she can. The Minnesota Mauler lives up to her newest nickname as she sits atop Yoona's chest and rains down punches to the newer girl's forehead and nose, Park's head bouncing off the mat with each hit.
With Yoona's eyes already rolling slightly in a daze, Belle gets up and takes hold of the Korean woman's legs, hupping Yoona up for a Powerbomb. But just as the big brunette lifts Park from the mat she instinctively cinches her legs tight around Trisha's neck, so tight in fact, that when Belle attempts to throw the new girl back to the mat she sits up on Trisha's shoulders and even starts throwing punches and forearms down onto Belle's skull.
To the delight of the crowd, Trisha falters enough to sink to one knee, Park seeming to come into this fight harder and faster than anyone expected. But Belle doesn't allow that hope to grow for Yoona's fans yet. Instead, Trisha rises to her feet again and lunges to the corner, swinging Park downward as far as she can to send Yoona into the corner turnbuckles. Neck, head, back, Trisha doesn't care, as long as whatever part of Park's body hits the corner hits hard and really hurts.
Yoona tucks her chin into her chest moments before impact to protect her head, though the shock of the top turnbuckle colliding with her upper back still sends a dreadful shiver through her frame. The recoil from the impact bucks her body free from Trisha’s grasp and she falls into a heap in the corner, left hand clinging onto the bottom rope to keep herself in a seated position. Belle tries to press the offensive, but the official forces her back as Park is technically in the ropes and entitled to a five-count reprieve.
Pounding a fist into the canvas, Yoona pushes to a stand with a grimace while rolling her shoulders.
“Alright, that fucking does it,” she snarls. “I’m setting my phasers from ‘Stun’ to ‘Fuck Shit Up.’”
Rather than wait for her opponent to come to her, Park charges full speed ahead. When Trisha makes a grab for her, Yoona drops to a kneeling position and slides forward on her knees, earning herself some wicked mat burns but evading Belle’s grasps by going low. She skids to a stop just in front of Trisha’s legs, then she braces her right hand against the inside of Belle’s right thigh and swings her left elbow like a baseball bat into the outside of Trisha’s right knee. The precision Elbow Strike bends the joint in a way for which it was not intended, and Belle gives a sharp grunt of pain as the limb buckles.
Just as Trisha is dropping down to one knee, Yoona is rising from a crouch, and fist meets chin halfway in a powerful Rising Uppercut that puts Belle on her back and leaves Park standing upright with her right arm held up vertically.
“SHORYUKEN!” screams a particularly enthusiastic fan in the front row as he jumps to his feet, which in turns causes him to be pelted with popcorn for blocking the view of people sitting in the rows behind him.
Yoona doesn’t pay him any mind, as Trisha is already crawling to hands and knees. The Korean circles around behind her opponent, takes a lunging step forward with her left leg, then leans forward with her torso parallel to the ground and her right leg curved up and back like a scorpion’s tail. For a heartbeat or two she’s frozen in that position, and then her elastic sinews snap back into place, causing her to straighten at the waist while her right leg swings forward as a counterbalance.
The Soccer Punt splits Belle’s thighs as she’s on all fours, and hits so hard that Yoona’s foot aches.
Trisha, of course, has it much worse as the vicious low blow sets off an explosion of pain in her groin and causes her arch her back as a choked gasp escapes her lips. Had Trisha’s reputation been anything other than a savage, remorseless bully, the referee might have disqualified Park on the spot. As it were, the official issues a half-hearted warning which Yoona duly ignores.
Belle is still on her knees screaming a silent scream when the Korean twists her left arm behind her back in a Hammerlock. Briefly switching to a one handed grip on the arm lock, Yoona pulls Trisha’s head backwards and then traps Belle’s neck under her right armpit to secure the Dragon Sleeper. To cinch the hold even tighter, Park reaches her right hand down behind her opponent’s back to restore a two handed grip on the Hammerlock.
On her knees, bent over backwards, and with one arm trapped, Trisha can do little else except blindly flail and grope with her free arm.
“GAME OVER, MAN! GAME OVER!” Yoona jubilantly shouts, as she squats down and pounds a series of alternating Knee Strikes into her foe’s back, trying to hasten a submission.
It turns out her celebration is premature, however. Belle’s increasingly frantic groping hits pay dirt when she finds a handful of Yoona’s long, free-flowing black hair. A sharp tug on her hair does little to loosen Park’s submission hold but it does pull her face within range of Trisha’s talons, and then a rake across her right eye sends Yoona toppling to the mat with a screech.
The referee sighs to himself, and issues another warning that he knows will be ignored.
Freed from the Dragon Sleeper, Trisha rubs her throat as her face gradually returns to its normal color from a shade of deep purple. A couple of yards away, Yoona is rising to her feet with a palm pressed to her right eye. When she sees her opponent is up as well, the Korean tries to quickly rub the lingering bleariness out of her eye and brings both fists up in front of her face. She advances on the still recovering Belle, and flicks out a Left Jab that whiffs completely. A follow-up Shin Kick only lands a grazing hit on Trisha’s thigh, despite the Minnesotan making little effort to block or evade.
Trisha can’t help but break out into a grin when she realizes that Park’s wounded eye must be affecting her depth perception. She puts her theory to the test by hopping forward onto her left leg while shooting her right foot at Yoona’s head, a version of the Super Kick which she called the Belle Ringer. Sure enough, Park fails to create enough distance with her backstep and she’s sent sprawling to the mat in a daze when the heel of Trisha’s boot slams into her cheek.
Looking for some payback after the earlier low blow, Belle drags her opponent up and keeps the wobbly legged Korean standing with a handful of hair. Her other hand finds its way between Park’s thighs and she tears into Yoona’s groin with a Crotch Claw. The searing pain immediately brings Park back to her senses and she starts to shriek, but her cry is cut short by a second claw being shoved into her mouth.
Instead of looking for a submission with her Mandible and Crotch Claw combination, Trisha powers her smaller, lighter opponent up into an overhead Military Press while maintaining her dual hand holds. She walks over to the ropes, and the fans gasp when they realize what she has planned. Belle is unmoved by their concerns, however, and she bends her knees and elbows slightly before springing back up and tossing Yoona out of the ring like a sack of a potatoes.
Park is far from finished though, and she manages to grab two handfuls of Trisha’s hair just as she’s about to plummet to the thinly padded concrete outside. Belle doesn’t quite realize what’s happening, but it becomes very, very painfully clear a fraction of a second later when 128 pounds of free-falling ballast attached to her hair yanks her up and over the top ropes as well.
Trisha and Yoona tumble over the top rope together, the Korean hitting the floor first, but unfortunately for Park that isn't an advantage. Trisha's body falls hard on top of Yoona's, the weight of the Minnesotan driving a lot of air from Yoona's lungs with a loud, "OOOMPH!"
Belle comes out of the fall better, but not by much, the surprise tumble wrenching her neck badly and even with Park cushioning her fall, her ribs feel like she landed badly. Still, Trisha forces herself up, dragging the winded Yoona to her feet by the hair as the ref starts the 10 count for both of them.
"We'll be right there." Trisha assures the official before punching the still woozy Park in the face, once, twice, three times before rolling the Korean girl back into the ring, following just behind her.
Belle once again grabs the newer girl and forces her up, "Alright, let's get the formalities over with before the real fun starts." Belle then easily wraps an arm around Yoona’s throat, locking Park into a standing Sleeper Hold to make the woman like putty in Trisha's malicious hands.
Yoona instinctively bicycles her legs as Belle wrenches her neck and even lifts her off the mat for a few brief moments. Once the initial rush of panic fades, the more pragmatic side of her brain kicks into action. Thrashing madly would only waste energy and oxygen, thereby quickening her demise, so Park calms herself and goes into almost a meditative stillness even as Trisha is tightening the choke.
Feeling Belle’s breath on the back of her head, she’s able to get a rough idea of where her captor’s head is, then she makes a pair of “thumbs up” gestures and shoves them blindly behind her head. At least one eye poke seems to hit true, and Trisha releases the Sleeper Hold with a sharp scream. The sudden rush of blood back to her brain makes Yoona slightly woozy so she plants two hands on Belle’s shoulders for support, the larger woman still too preoccupied with the effects of the eye gouge to offer any resistance.
Once she’s had a moment or two to regain her bearings, Park pulls her opponent forward and then slams a Knee Strike into Trisha’s liver. Belle lets out a long, drawn-out groan and doubles over, a wave of pain and nausea spreading from her core as her squashed liver dumps its stored toxins directly into the bloodstream. A second later, Yoona clubs a forearm across the back of her neck, sending her face first into the canvas.
Park sits cross-legged on her opponent’s back and targets the left arm once more by twisting it into another Hammerlock, although this time she keeps the hold in place by wedging Trisha’s forearm into the keyhole formed by her legs. The Omoplata puts hellacious torque on Belle’s left shoulder, but Yoona is not looking for a submission. With the Minnesota pinned face down, she grabs a bunch of hair with her left hand and proceeds to rain punch after punch after punch into the back of Trisha’s head. Belle can only manage a feeble defense from her position with just one arm available to cover up her head, and the FAWNatics roar in delight when it seems the Korean has her opponent dead to rights.
In their zeal, the fans apparently forget that closed fists are technically not allowed, and their enthusiasm deflates like a cheap balloon when the referee physically drags Yoona away after a half dozen blows.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM, ASSHOLE?!” Park shrieks in frustration.
“No closed fists!” the official shouts. “No closed fists! Or else I’ll disqualify you!”
“Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me! You decide to enforce that stupid fucking rule now?!”
The referee gives her a stern, silent look with his hands propped on his hips.
“Look at these!” Yoona seethes while she holds up her hands. “Fucking look at these! Do you think I wear handwraps to be fashionable?! No! These are for punching stupid bitches in their stupid bitch-faces! So stay out of my way, fucktard, or else --”
Park sees something moving out of the corner of her eye, and she dodges just in time to avoid another Belle Ringer. The official isn’t so lucky as he gets a mouthful of boot leather and he sprawls into a heap on the mat. Down but not quite out, he starts to signal for a disqualification when Yoona plants a foot on the back of his head and then Curb Stomps him back into the canvas.
“No! Nuh-uh, shithead!” Park screams as she adds two more stomps for good measure to make sure the man is out cold. “Fuck you, and fuck your disqualifications!”
Trisha looks on with an arched eyebrow, slightly bemused. “You know that’s a five grand fine for each of us for attacking an official, right?”
“Well maybe if you could put him down with one kick I wouldn’t have to clean up your goddamn mess!” Yoona snaps.
Trisha lets out a slight chuckle, "Fair enough."
Then the Minnesota Mauler closes the gap between her and Yoona with a swift, short distance Clothesline that slams the smaller woman to the mat, head and neck taking a harsh impact, laying the Korean flat, Park left moaning and dazed on the ring floor.
Trisha drops to her knees, hooking Yoona's leg for an unofficial, but very satisfying pin, slapping the mat herself for a
"ONE!"
"TWO!"
And to the delight of the crowd and frustration and surprise of Belle, Park finds it in herself to throw a shoulder up, stopping even Trisha's arrogant self count.
"Ooh! I see. Tough girl wants me to really break her before she lays down. Okay. I'm here to please."
With that, Belle sits up and slaps Yoona twice firmly on the cheek, "Now stay awake, honey. Don't want you to sleep through what I'm here to teach you."
With that Trisha drags the Korean girlHYPERLINK "http://girl.to/" HYPERLINK "http://girl.to/" to her feet, steadying her just a bit before throwing her to the corner. Park almost bounces off the turnbuckle, but after her back slams into the corner her arms instinctively drape over the top rope to keep her on her feet.
With Yoona right where she wants her, Trisha charges, ready to deliver a nasty Spear to the still wobbly Park. Unable to move out of the way in time, Yoona can only tightly grip the cables for support and steel herself for impact. The force of Belle’s shoulder driving into her midsection nearly cuts her in half and she almost vomits on the spot, though with a great deal of effort she’s able to swallow the burning, sour stomach acid that had worked its way up to the back of her mouth.
“Harder,” Yoona croaks between ragged pants of breath. “You hit like a fucking amateur.”
Trisha backs up to the middle of the ring then charges forward again to deliver a second Spear. This time Park is ready, and Belle ends up ramming her right shoulder into a very hard knee rather than a soft abdomen.
Spurred into action by her opponent’s scream of pain, Yoona snatches Trisha’s right wrist and climbs into a seat on the top turnbuckle. She pulls the larger woman in closer by the injured limb, then she tightly wraps her legs around Trisha’s head and arm and completes the Triangle Choke by wedging her right ankle into the pit of her left knee behind Belle’s head.
Trisha makes a fist with her left hand and immediately starts pounding on her captor’s legs, stomach, and chest trying to free herself, but the persistent Korean stubbornly refuses to let go. To make matters worse for Belle, Park shifts her weight so that she falls off the turnbuckle and her tumble to the floor is arrested when top rope catches Trisha directly across the chest and underneath the right armpit.
Yoona, hanging upside down from Trisha’s neck and arm by her legs, flashes a weary but triumphant grin at her opponent. It would only be thirty seconds or a minute tops before Belle succumbs to the rope-hung Triangle Choke.
Excruciatingly aware of her predicament, Trisha clenches the top rope with her left hand in a white-knuckled grip. She tries pushing off and leaning back, doing everything she can to drag the Korean back over the ropes in order to alleviate some of the pressure, but by now she’s too worn down to summon the strength to perform such a feat. Running out of time and air, Belle thinks back to earlier in the match and she realizes that the only way out is up and over. She takes a moment to steady her nerves, then leaps headfirst over the top rope.
Park immediately realizes what’s happening, so she surrenders her grip on Trisha’s wrist to grab onto the bottom rope instead. Just as Belle is flipping over, she also unlocks her legs to avoid being taken along for a ride to the arena floor. As a result, Trisha makes the fall alone and takes the devastating impact on the back of her neck and shoulders, a victim of a self-inflicted Hurricanrana. Meanwhile, Yoona lies on her back on the ring apron, electing to catch her breath rather than press the offensive.
“You’re one crazy fucker,” Park says with a humorless chuckle as she watches Belle struggle to make her way up. “How much would they have fined me if you had broken your own goddamn neck there?”
Trisha drags herself upright with the help of the steel barricade and leans against it for support. With no referee, both women are content to take their time in recovering. Yoona rolls back under the bottom rope and moves to a seated position with her back up against the bottom turnbuckle as she watches Belle out of the corner of her eyes.
“You know, the only reason I came out here tonight was because Olivia Dare texted me,” Park says as she keeps a wary eye on her opponent. “Said something about trying my luck against the big bitch who wrecked her BFF Eliza at Mania. Honestly, I wasn’t impressed. Bliss shitting the bed is like death and taxes these days. If you put her in a Triple Threat Match in the main event, I’m sure she’d find some way to get her perky ass pinned twice.”
Trisha doesn’t seem to be listening as she tends to her shoulder and neck, although Park continues her monologue.
“I have to admit though, you’re better than I expected, Cheesehead. For your valiant efforts, I think I’ll fuck you into submission.”
The FAWNatics cheer, as nothing would please them more than to see Yoona make good on her catty threat. Trisha is less amused as she reaches over the barricade to haul a fan out of his seat before commandeering his chair as a weapon.
Seeing her opponent ascend the ring steps while brandishing a weapon wipes the cheeky grin off Park’s face. She stands up and pulls off her tank top, drawing a chorus cheers and catcalls from those appreciative of the now topless Korean.
“Tch! A steel chair…” Yoona snorts as she wraps the tank top around her left arm to form a makeshift elbow pad. “Gonna be that kind of fight, huh?”
“Hey, you threw a phone at me,” Trisha counters, causing her opponent to roll her eyes.
Pleasantries dispensed with, Belle swings the chair at Park’s head, though the shifty ex-ballerina manages to dodge the blow by leaning backwards like she were doing the limbo. Unfortunately for her, committing to the dodge leaves her open to the follow-up attack, and Trisha takes advantage by jabbing the edge of the chair into her gut and dropping Yoona to one knee with a pained grunt.
Belle flashes a malicious grin as she lines up the chair with the left side of Park’s drooping head and prepares to deliver the coup de grace. The fans gasp loudly when Trisha swings the weapon with terrifying force, and there is a loud clang that seems to reverberate throughout the arena. Instead of cracking Yoona’s skull like an egg, however, the steel chair bounces off of the point of her left elbow. The impact might have shattered her arm otherwise, but wrapping her shirt around the joint provides the Korean with just enough protection to safely -- though still very, very painfully -- absorb the vicious hit.
“Clever girl,” Trisha sneers.
She tries to wind up for another chair shot and is foiled when Park grabs onto the other end of the chair. The two wrestlers engage in a brief tug of war over the weapon, and it is immediately obvious that Yoona is at an insurmountable disadvantage by virtue of being smaller and on her knees rather than standing. Belle drags her a couple of feet forward, and that’s when she suddenly releases her hold on the chair.
Unprepared for the sudden lack of resistance, Trisha falls victim to her own inertia as she stumbles backwards and hits herself in the face with the chair. Dazed but still upright, Belle staggers a few steps with the chair still in her hands and then finally goes down when Park rams the chair into her face for a second time with a charging Shoulder Block.
Yoona rubs the stinging soreness out of her right shoulder as she looks down on her glassy-eyed opponent. She considers pinning Trisha, and then dismisses the thought a moment later when she remembers that the referee is still unconscious. She looks at the steel chair lying flat on the canvas and just as quickly dismisses the idea of using it to pound Belle into a pancake because she considers herself far too talented and capable to have to resort to such tactics.
Instead, she unfolds the chair in the center of the ring and takes a seat. Just to spite her opponent, Yoona begins loudly singing the refrains from a medley of the catchiest, most sugary K-pop songs she knows. She’s about halfway through Wonder Girls’ “Nobody” when Belle starts climbing upright, and Park abandons her impromptu concert, kicks the chair to one corner, and drags Trisha up the rest of the way with two handfuls of hair.
Belle isn’t standing for very long though, as Park immediately traps her in a Front Facelock. Camille had been pushing her to add more throws and grapples to her arsenal, and Yoona decides that now is as good as a time as any to start experimenting. While still keeping her foe’s head trapped, she jumps up so that her gut is briefly balanced on the point of Trisha’s right shoulder. After taking a second to gather herself she forcefully jackknifes backwards, pulling Belle along for the ride.
Yoona lands flat on her back, and Trisha has it much worse when she lands on the crown of her head. The Implant DDT leaves the big Minnesotan upside down and vertical for a brief moment before gravity takes over, causing her to complete the somersault by falling onto her back. Her head is still trapped in the Front Facelock, however, and Park capitalizes by smoothly rolling backwards over her own head even as Trisha is toppling to the mat like a felled redwood. As a result she ends up sitting in Belle’s lap with a Guillotine Choke secured, and then she quickly adds a Front Bodyscissor by crossing her ankles behind Trisha’s back.
Whatever the effects of the Implant DDT, they seem to be immediately dispelled when Belle feels her waist and neck getting simultaneously squeezed. She spasms and shakes like she’s being electrocuted, thrashing about with far more strength than seems possible this far into the match. It seems to be a futile effort as Park just cinches the submission tighter, but then Trisha manages to sink her claws into Yoona’s right deltoid. Channeling all of her strength into her left hand, Belle squeezes like her life depends on it.
“ARRRGGH!!! FUCK!” Yoona shrieks as a searing, electric shock runs the whole length of her right arm. Normally she might have held on until her opponent passed out, but having just rammed her shoulder into a steel chair earlier, she is forced to relinquish the Guillotine Choke.
Park rolls clear and begins massaging the pins and needles sensation out of her arm, while Belle lightly presses a hand to her throat and gulps down huge mouthfuls of air.
“Clever girl,” Yoona repeats, prompting Trisha to reply with a small, crooked grin.
At this point it’s very evident that the two wrestlers are equally exhausted, large beads of sweat rolling down their faces as they force themselves to stand, both huffing heavily in their very tired states. Trisha throws her arms up in a defensive stance as Yoona leans in the corner, still massaging her shoulder.
"Come on! We're not done yet," Belle yells emphatically, her hands making an appropriate accompanying gesture, inviting Park in for a lockup.
The Korean girl takes up the Minnesota Mauler's invitation and the two meet at center ring, locking into a collar and elbow. For a moment they both struggle for dominance, but Trisha takes the advantage backing the smaller Korean girl into the nearest corner. Even with her back to the turnbuckles, Yoona starts throwing punches and knees faster than Trisha, hitting the Minnesotan hard in the ribs and abs with some solid strikes, but Trisha makes up for her slower delivery with some added power, hooks and haymakers to Yoona's body making the packed arena crowd think the two girls forgot to keep wrestling and have begun bare-knuckle boxing instead.
But Belle gets them back on track with a hard knee between Yoona's legs that gets a harsh yelp from the smaller girl. And with her dominance secured, Trisha grabs Park by the arm and flings the Korean to the opposite turnbuckles.
Trisha rushes behind Yoona, giving Park just enough room to turn and take the turnbuckles to the back before Belle splashes the smaller girl between the Minnesota Mauler's body and the corner. And with that, Trisha has Yoona where she really wants her, Park leaning into Belle for support as the Minnesotan backs out of the corner. Trisha snatches Yoona's hair and drags the Korean former beach fighter to mid-ring again, hooking Yoona's elbows and forcing her head between powerful milky thighs as Trisha sets up her coup de grâce, the Belle Toll.
While Yoona isn't able to get the upperhand, she is able to distract Trisha – and, admittedly, herself – from the movement coming from the skirt of the ring. A flap of canvas flips up and a shapely woman crawls out from underneath.
RUE ANN MACKENNA:
Rue Ann straightens up and winks to the front row. Her usual ring attire is missing. Instead, the curvy redhead is in a tied-off flannel shirt, Daisy Dukes, fingerless weighted gloves and vintage running cleats. A Hello Kitty backpack on Rue's back has been defaced with the words “FRIENDSHIP BAG!”
Rue Ann slinks into the ring, withdrawing a rusty bike chain from her pack. Wrapping both ends around her hands, she sneaks behind Belle. As the Minnesotan straightens up for her Pedigree finisher, Rue Ann leaps onto her back, wrapping the chain across Trisha's throat.
At first, the Amazon doesn't know what's going on. But as Rue criss-crosses the chain behind Trisha's head she also plants both sets of sharp, metal cleats into Belle's back. Trisha is almost thirty pounds heavier than the hillbilly, but having over one hundred and twenty pounds hanging from one's back – by a chain – takes a quick toll. Trisha is unable to keep her hold on Yoona, who slips out and falls back. Rue gives another yank on Belle throat before dismounting from her back. Splatters of red appear up Trisha's back, immediately being soaked in by her tank top. Rue pulls Trisha backward, bowing out her torso.
“Hey, Boo,” Rue says, sweet as can be. “Is this a bad time? I feel like we should really talk about what happened.”
She shoves both chain ends in one hand and slams the weighed glove up into the brunette's crotch, full force. Trisha's mouth rounds into a perfect “O” but the choke gags her enough to quiet her.
Knowing Trisha will gather her wits at any time and start fighing back, Rue Ann pivots and uses the chain to sling Trisha to the side. Normally, this would have been laughable but Trisha's just tired enough, and a little wobbly kneed from the punch to the lady flower, to go over. She collides with the mat, catching herself with her arms. MacKenna decides this isn't acceptable, leaping into the middle of Trisha's back. The cleats bite in and Trisha roars furiously, like a trapped wildcat. Rue drops her knees into Trisha's shoulder blades, yanks her hair back and begins punching Trisha over and over in the face with a fist wrapped in bike chain.
Trisha knows a lot about Rue: her weird family, her obnoxious snort-giggle she did when she saw small wrinkly dogs, her intricate opinions on theater, her needs to hurt people and how she latched onto someone like they were the best and only friend she'd ever had. What Trisha had never had a chance to learn about, until now, was how hard the little thug hits. Maybe it is the exhaustion talking but MacKenna's every slug comes with a flash of pain and dizzying light. The rusty bike chain doesn't help, nor the cleats burying themselves further into her flesh. Rue rises again only to drop to a knee at the base of Trisha's skull.
Belle's movements have slowed down, thanks to a beating-choking cocktail. Rue steps off her former friend, removing the shoes. “Ugh, how do people wear these all the time?” She looks to the fans and holds them up. “Who wants a souvenir?” Rue almost lobs them into the crowd but remembers – oh, yeah. Cleats. She drops them to the side instead. Rue strides over to the chair and drags it to the corner closest to Trisha. Rue heaves up Belle, who's muttering what can only be assumed to be threats as Rue clumsily lifts and drape her across the chair's seat. MacKenna climbs the turnbuckles, poses atop the ringpost, and launches herself for a Senton Bomb!
SENTON BOMB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=dIQ92z79Oic
The chair beneath Trisha gives away, breaking into pieces. Trisha's ribs, thankfully, do not although EMTs will likely want a look. Rue looks down at the knocked-out woman and frowns. She sighs, sliding her hands up Trisha's top and gives her breasts a squeeze. “Gonna miss 'accidentally' touching these.” She looks to Yoona. “Oh, hey! Uh, sorry about this.” Rue stands and pulls Trisha to the center of the ring. She points. “All yours, darlin'. I'll get the ref up.”
Yoona looks at Rue incredulously as she gets to her feet. "Yeah. She was all mine even before you stuck your big fucking hillbilly nose into this. Ever heard of waiting your fucking turn?" Yoona asks, stepping over the splayed Belle to confront the redhead in front of her.
Uncharacteristically calm, Rue holds up her hands.
“I get it. I do. This isn't cool on my part. Your match. She and I had a bit of a tiff. She jumped me after a match and tried to hospitalize me.” Rue rubs her neck and laughs, “You know how it goes. But her ego won't let this stand. I'm sure you'll get a chance to beat her again later when she screams about how she had you. In the meantime!” Rue reaches down and yanks off Trisha's top, exposing her large breasts. “You get to lay across those! C'mon, that's prime cut sweater steaks!” Rue winks. “Let's just go ahead and wrap this up. Whattaya say? I'll buy you an apology beer.”
"No, no no," Yoona won't let go of this issue. "She attacked you AFTER your match." She pokes an index finger at Rue's ample chest. "You know what, fuck this. You're just begging for what I had in store for your former BFF."
With that Yoona cocks her fist back and throws a hook aimed to connect with Rue's ribs, but her speed isn't what it would be after a long fought match with Trisha, so even when she's trying to surprise Rue, the move is badly telegraphed, Rue easily backing off to avoid the swing.
Rue can only sigh, “We're not getting out of this without a fight, are we?”
She flings her hands down and open, shaking the weighted gloves off. The smaller woman steps forward and brings her fist into Yoona's belly with all of her might. Already horribly battered, Yoona folds over. MacKenna raises both elbows and slams them into the back of each of Yoona's shoulders, driving her down further. Rue Ann pulls Yoona by her long hair and leads her to Trisha's feet. The Kentuckian tucks Yoona's head between her thighs and lifts her for a Powerbomb. Yoona's taller but not much heavier, and a lifetime of farm work has prepped Rue for heavy, and sometimes awkward, burdens. Rue slams Yoona down onto Trisha's limp body, the Minnesotan's rack acting as a pillow. Rue undoes her top, letting her boobs come out to play. She sits astride both women's legs and slinks toward's Yoona's face.
“Again, very sorry about this. It's disrespectful of you and your girlfriend. I hope you don’t enjoy it too much and have problems with the little lady.”
Rue reaches under Trisha and lifts her up, in turn guiding Yoona into Rue's own breasts to encase her in a juggy smother.
Trisha's body flops limply upon the impact of Yoona's back being driven into her chest, still laid out flat in a spread eagle position from before. But Yoona makes much more noise, moaning and sore and angry, she's about to curse Rue out just as the redhead straddles her and forces Park's face between her mountainous tits. Yoona is far less happy about this predicament than Rue assumed she'd be, Park throwing punches to MacKenna's ribs and kidneys, but the punches are far less impactful than the Korean's full power following the nasty back and forth she's had with Trisha. Rue doesn't have to wait long for the minor punches to turn to half-hearted slaps, and after another moment Yoona's arms get heavy, unable to even lift from her side, her feet slowly shifting back and forth on the ring mat in a weak struggle to stay conscious, her nose and mouth trying desperately for air and only sucking at the flesh of Rue's chest.
“Sshhh, there, there,” Rue whispers to Yoona in a soothing voice. The FAWN newcomer wasn't going out as fast as Rue would like. Normally, this would mean it was time for torture – cause the woman hurt, make her fight back and let her use up energy and air. But, despite being a generally mean-spirited person, Rue does feel bad about interrupting Yoona's match. She doesn't know her. Hell, she's actually liked what she's seen so far. But she needs to end this. There is, of course, another way to tire her out.
Rue's right hand goes into Yoona's trunk while her left finds one of the trapped woman's nipples to tease. Normally, this would be a sign of pain to come and the look in Yoona's eyes show she expects it. But Rue knows her way around a woman's anatomy and commences gentle caressing and teasing. She even begins to grind atop Yoona and talking in a different tone.
“This isn't so bad, is it, Yoona?” Rue purrs. “Trapped between four large breasts, being touched just right.” Rue's fingers move to “invade Yoona's space” as it were. The demeanor of the struggling woman definitely changes, as does the breathing patterns. Hot, heavy breathing fills Rue's cleavage, as well as muffled sounds of what MacKenna assumes is pleasure. Rue continues, whispering suggestive promises only Yoona can hear, describing carnal scenes that are Yoona's to imagine alone as she is whisked off to nymphomaniac dreams. Rue continues playing with the woman even after she's sure she's out cold, to give her some good dreams and a bit of a finish.
She withdraws her hand and gives Yoona a soft kiss, “You're gonna hate me and that's fair.”
Rue gets up and rolls Yoona onto her belly, letting her pin Trisha. Rue immediately rushes to rouse the referee. She gives him a few quick slaps.
“Hey! No sleeping on the job!” Rue barks. The referee's eyes blink. He hears the fans offering a mix of boos and cheers but doesn't know why. He looks up at Rue Ann. Before he speaks, she points, “Your job, man!” The official looks to the center the ring and sees Yoona on top of Belle. He clumsily wobbles towards them, falling to the mat to slap out a count.
The referee slaps out the count.
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
The bell sounds. “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner of this match… YOONA PARK!”
The fan reaction is mixed. While almost all wanted to see Trisha lose to Yoona, few wanted to see it go down like this. Some, however, seem thrilled to have Belle knocked down and out – Yoona getting Rue's hands on attention is a bonus, too.
The ref goes to grab Yoona's wrist but Rue interrupts him, “Hey, I think you have a concussion You should really go get checked out. Like, right now.” She points up to the entry ramp. Still addled, the referee slurs, “Okay,” and leaves the ring, stumbling backstage.
This leaves Rue to look back to the sleeping couple. Rue gently lifts Yoona into a cradle, giving her a quick hug to her bosom before sitting her up in a corner. Then she returns to Trisha Belle.
First thing, Rue Ann removes Trisha's yoga shorts. She twirls them on her fingers, pointing to the fans with her other hand. Few can turn down a keepsake like this, and there's no telling when Trisha Belle's attire will be all the way off, so greedy hands reach. Rue slings them into the fans and returns to Trisha, now naked save for boots and pads.
Rue wonders if Trisha's ever been stripped in FAWN before. She's certainly enjoyed doing it to others. But so has Rue.
The redhead drags the larger woman to the corner opposite of Yoona. Propping Belle up, Rue pulls two sets of handcuffs. She cuffs each of Trisha's wrists to the top cables and then lifts her legs over the bottom cables, suspending her spread-eagle in the corner. The flashes from FAWNatics and their camera phones is instantaneous.
This gives Rue an idea. She looks for the Gladiatrix photographer. Spying him, she bids him to enter the ring. The camera man nervously follows orders and slides under the bottom rope. Rue grabs him by the hands and pulls him next to her.
“Document all of this,” she commands. “This is your big spread.” She smirks at Trisha's limp, hanging form. “Take that how you want.”
A man of moral character and scruples would say no and walk away. Fortunately for Rue, FAWN's official magazine never once hired someone like that. The photographer immediately gets pictures of Rue Ann posing with Trisha like a trophy fish. MacKenna makes sure he gets pictures of every inch of Trisha's body while she fishes in her backpack again, pulling out a small tin of red paint and paintbrush. She pops the tin open, dips in the brush, and paints a “T” on Trisha's face. Dips again, paints an “R” on her throat. An “A” on her upper chest. And so on, she spells the word “TRAITOR” out on Trish's body, putting the “R” just above her womanhood.
“I oughta shove this brush up there,” Rue Ann says aloud.
Instead, she takes the paint and pours it over Trisha's head, letting it spill down the woman's body and back. “Paint and open wounds are gonna be fun for you,” MacKenna says, giving the slumbering beauty a kiss on the cheek. She looks to the fans.
“There are a lot of things to hate about FAWN. Weak women who don't belong in the ring. Underhanded double-dealers. General scumbags. And probably more than a few walking libraries of venereal disease.” She looks back at Trisha. “But there is nothing, and no one, more worthless than a backstabber. No matter how big you are, nothing makes you smaller than betraying someone who's been dedicated to you.”
Rue begins pummeling Trisha's body, focusing on her belly and breasts. She knows Trisha won't react but she wants to give her injuries she'll feel for days to come – a soreness that will be with her. She pounds in a few knees and claw rips to the crotch.
Even FAWNatics who usually live for this find it almost uncomfortable to watch. Just as the bruises start to show on Trisha's body, Rue stops. She knows she could, if she wanted, do some serious damage to Trisha's body. Career affecting damage. Security is always slow. But this? This will be humiliation, something Trisha's never really felt. Pictures of this will follow Belle for years to come. It's not everything, but it's a seed in the garden.
Rue grabs her backpack and walks towards Yoona. From the sound of cheering fans she knows FAWN security is finally arriving. Rue reaches in her back and withdraws three things: a box of fine chocolates, a little balloon with the words “I'm Sorry” on it, and a card in an envelope. She leaves the chocolates and the card in Yoona's lap, tying the balloon’s string to the chocolates. Rue Ann looks behind her to see security guards, not really sure what to make of this.
“I'm out, guys,” Rue says, holding up her hands. “No worries from me.”
MacKenna slides under the bottom rope and strides up the aisle. She knows this is all going to get worse before it gets better, if it ever does. But sometimes, you've just gotta get it all out there.
She looks back at the ring and the commotion within.
It doesn't get much more “out there” than this.
youtu.be/uqY3x6I3O2g"
A loud jeering starts as Trisha Belle steps out from the curtain. The boos get even louder as she shows a microphone in her hand as she walks down the ramp, clad in her usual ring gear, obviously prepared to fight.
TRISHA BELLE:
"Now some of you may be surprised to see me at all tonight, let alone expect to see a match. FAWN's legal team has been trying to keep me away from the ring lately, due to some "unfortunate" injuries inflicted on several of my more recent opponents. So, I've been suspended."
She pauses for dramatic effect, but receives a pop of cheers and applause from the crowd, showing their support of that decision.
"Now don't worry. I've found a loophole in that particular part of the FAWN rulebook. Even suspended wrestlers can issue open challenges. So, I'm here to do just that. Can we get a ref down here ready to oversee this addition to the schedule?"
The FAWN staff near ringside shake their heads, one speaks up, "You need someone to accept the challenge, Trisha. If you don't have an opponent, you're technically trespassing while on a suspension. If no one wants to fight you, we get to kick you out."
Trisha nods, almost solemnly, "Fine." She takes a deep breath. "Does any girl without a match tonight have the guts to step in the ring with me?" Belle drops the mic for emphasis and gives a "Bring it on" gesture to the curtain at the top of the ramp, satisfied to take on anyone brave or dumb enough to take her challenge.
The crowd falls silent in anticipation, and five seconds passes.
Then ten.
Then fifteen.
Trisha smirks, and the FAWNatics begin booing when it appears that their appetite for violence will go unsated. Suddenly, the opening strains of Girls’ Generation’s “Gee” play over the FAWN Arena’s PA for the first time ever, sending a murmur through the audience. A few seconds later, Yoona Park steps through the curtain to a roar of approval from the crowd.
YOONA PARK:
Tonight, there will be blood.
Park had yet to fight in an official capacity at the FAWN Arena proper, although she had a fair amount of notoriety among the fans from her emotionally and sexually charged victory a few months ago in the Madhouse. Of course, there was also the fiasco with the Church of Eternal Midnight and fans who followed House Show results also knew of a recent tete-a-tete with Olivia Dare. Whatever the case, whether out of support for the Korean or hatred for Belle, the fans are firmly on Yoona’s side as she prepares for battle.
Rather than sing or dance as she did for her entrances in the Jungle or at various House Shows, Yoona is preoccupied with wrapping her hands with strips of coarse white cloth as she walks towards the ring in bare feet. To complete her outfit, she wears her customary black bikini briefs and a tight-fitting, dark grey tank top emblazoned with the words “F#CK THE IMPOSSIBLE” and a stylized rendering of a red rose growing from a crack in the sidewalk. Following her FAWNAMANIA victory, Camille had been chagrined to find that her official merch shirt featured that particular turn of phrase and she had implored Yoona to wear the “HOPE NEVER DIES” version instead, which of course only made the Korean more insistent on wearing the vulgar variant.
A referee sprints down from the entranceway and slides into the ring to officiate the imminent match, and Park ascends the ring steps while using her teeth to tighten the wraps on either hand. Once she’s satisfied with the wraps extending from knuckles to mid-forearm, she enters the ring by ducking in-between the top and middle ropes.
Trisha looks over her opponent as the referee checks her gear for weapons and paraphernalia. Whatever the Minnesotan sees, she’s not impressed.
“Sending some pop-star wannabe to do a wrestler’s job…” Belle scoffs disdainfully. “What are you gonna do, huh? Challenge me to a lip-sync battle?”
Yoona opens her mouth as if to say something, but then a puzzled look comes over her face and she scratches the back of her head.
“Usually this is the part where I offer some withering retort,” she says as she waggles an index finger, “But I don’t know who the fuck you are.”
She turns her attention to the referee who is heading over to inspect her and asks, “Ref, who the fuck is she?”
“Trisha Belle,” the man replies as he starts to check Park for hidden weapons.
The inspection doesn’t get very far, however, as Yoona steps out of the ring and walks over to the audience barricade. She pulls up her shirt to flash her bare breasts to the crowd, and when the fans pull out their phones to snap a picture, she quickly snatches a device.
“Siri, who the fuck is Trisha Belle?” she demands, which prompts the phone to bring up the official FAWN roster page.
“‘Minnesota Mauler…’” Park mutters to herself before calling out loud, “Hey is that where those fat-fucks wear wheels of cheese as hats?”
“No, that’s Wisconsin,” the fan says as he tries and fails to take his phone back.
“Whatever, I’ve already got the image of her wearing a cheese wheel stuck in my brain,” Yoona scoffs as she climbs back into the ring with the pilfered iPhone still in hand. “Hey, Cheesehead! Your name is Cheesehead now! Got it?”
Trisha narrows her eyes and glares daggers at the Korean, “You talk too much.”
“Yeah, I get that a lot,” Park replies with a smile.
Suddenly, Yoona whips the phone at Belle’s head from across the ring. Trisha manages to bat it aside before it strikes her in the face, but Park’s right fist smashes into her jaw a split second later. The Superman Sucker Punch causes her to stagger backwards and catch herself on the ropes as the referee quickly calls for the opening bell.
“Hey, you’re not out yet,” Yoona wonders out loud. “Hmm, must be one of those hard cheeses…”
“Guuhh, you bitch,” Belle growls as she holds her jaw. “You're fucking dead!”
With a savage snarl Trisha launches herself forward with her right arm outstretched and tries to remove Park’s head from her shoulders with a Clothesline. The ex-ballerina is blessed with impeccable rhythm, balance, and footwork, however, so she deftly sidesteps to Belle’s left and lands a Left Hook to the ribs followed a Right Cross to the jaw just as the Minnesota Mauler lunges past.
Trisha staggers to a halt, though her legs hold steady. She shakes the cobwebs out of her head, then turns around to face her opponent just in time to eat a Flying Knee directly on the chin. The powerful strike might have knocked her flat on her back had she been in the middle of the ring, but instead she leans backwards onto the ropes and remains upright. Somehow Belle retains the mental clarity to realize her opponent is right in front of her, and she loops her powerful arms around Yoona’s waist right as the Korean is descending from her Flying Knee.
“Gotcha now, you slippery little tramp,” Belle says as she tightens her grip and lifts Park high off the mat with a crushing Bear Hug.
Yoona allows herself one brief hiss of pain, then immediately gets to work on her escape. Wrapping her legs around her captor’s hips, she yanks Trisha’s head backwards with a handful of hair, then raises her right arm and proceeds to drop vertical Elbow Strikes directly into Belle’s upturned face.
THWACK!
THWACK!
THWACK!
After a triplet of elbows, Trisha decides that she’s had enough, and she swings around and flings Yoona away. Park lands on her left shoulder with a grunt then rolls to absorb the impact before pushing to her haunches in the middle of the ring. Belle is quickly on the counter offensive and she charges forward before her foe can get fully upright. Whatever she had planned would remain a mystery, however, as Yoona short-circuits the assault by diving out of the way, scissoring her legs around Trisha’s right calf, and sending Belle crashing face first to the mat with a Drop Toehold.
Trying to keep her bigger, stronger opponent grounded, Park immediately scrambles over to wrap both of her legs around Trisha’s right thigh, crossing her ankles just above the curve of Belle’s rear end. Yanking on the back of opponent’s right heel with both hands, Yoona arches her back to use her hip as a fulcrum to hyperextend Trisha’s knee with a vicious Knee Bar.
“I think a lip-sync battle would have been less embarrassing for you, Cheesehead,” Yoona snorts as she shifts her head left and right to dodge Belle’s wildly flailing left leg.
“You scrawny bitch!” Trisha hisses. “I’ll rip your fucking spine out!”
Left with no other recourse, the Minnesota Mauler starts crawling for the ropes. Fortunately for her, Park was not a particularly large woman, and Trisha is able to make good forward progress even with Yoona’s deadweight latched onto her right leg. Soon enough she’s able to wrap a hand around the bottom rope. Yoona surrenders the Knee Bar after the official counts to “FOUR!” then gets up and backs off to the other side of the ring.
Belle stands up gingerly, testing her right knee before putting more weight on it once she’s sure the limb will hold. Nostrils flaring in anger, Trisha has to fight to resist the urge to rush forward again, as the agile Korean was too light on her feet for such a tactic to work. She takes a few calming breaths, raises her arms into a guard in front of her face, then advances on her opponent with a far more measured tread.
Even so, Yoona is content to slowly pick her opponent apart at a distance, never quite committing to a big power shot and instead electing to force Belle to die a death by a thousand cuts. Every time Trisha gets close, Park strikes with Shin Kicks to the knee or Left and Right Hooks to the body before pivoting to safety. Nevertheless, Belle is determined and inexorable even as she eats shot after shot after shot, constantly adjusting her angle of approach to try to corner the slick striker.
Finally, after what seems to be a dozen unanswered blows, Park makes a gaffe. After she darts forward to land a pair of Left Uppercuts to Trisha’s solar plexus, she immediately hops backwards to create distance once more. Only instead of smoothly backstepping away, she feels the bwung of the corner turnbuckles against her back. It is perhaps an excusable mistake, as she was still relatively green when it came to combat inside a professional ring, but it is a grave mistake nonetheless.
“Ah, shit,” Yoona mutters to herself when she realizes that her poor ring awareness has put her in a bad spot, and that’s about all she can do before Belle lunges forward and wraps both hands around her neck.
“My turn, you K-Pop piece of shit!” Trisha snarls while throttling Park in the corner. The referee delivers an ineffectual reprimand to Belle about her blatantly illegal choke, then he starts his five-count towards disqualification.
Once the count hits “THREE!” Trisha sends a burst of strength through her arms and hoists Yoona by the neck, then she spins 180 degrees towards the center of the ring and powers Park into the deck with a massive Sitout Spinebuster. Yoona bounces a good six inches off the canvas, and the agonized croak that escapes her mouth would have likely been a full-throated scream had it not been for the pair of hands crushing her windpipe.
Trisha pounces on the downed Korean, pushing her advantage as soon as she can. The Minnesota Mauler lives up to her newest nickname as she sits atop Yoona's chest and rains down punches to the newer girl's forehead and nose, Park's head bouncing off the mat with each hit.
With Yoona's eyes already rolling slightly in a daze, Belle gets up and takes hold of the Korean woman's legs, hupping Yoona up for a Powerbomb. But just as the big brunette lifts Park from the mat she instinctively cinches her legs tight around Trisha's neck, so tight in fact, that when Belle attempts to throw the new girl back to the mat she sits up on Trisha's shoulders and even starts throwing punches and forearms down onto Belle's skull.
To the delight of the crowd, Trisha falters enough to sink to one knee, Park seeming to come into this fight harder and faster than anyone expected. But Belle doesn't allow that hope to grow for Yoona's fans yet. Instead, Trisha rises to her feet again and lunges to the corner, swinging Park downward as far as she can to send Yoona into the corner turnbuckles. Neck, head, back, Trisha doesn't care, as long as whatever part of Park's body hits the corner hits hard and really hurts.
Yoona tucks her chin into her chest moments before impact to protect her head, though the shock of the top turnbuckle colliding with her upper back still sends a dreadful shiver through her frame. The recoil from the impact bucks her body free from Trisha’s grasp and she falls into a heap in the corner, left hand clinging onto the bottom rope to keep herself in a seated position. Belle tries to press the offensive, but the official forces her back as Park is technically in the ropes and entitled to a five-count reprieve.
Pounding a fist into the canvas, Yoona pushes to a stand with a grimace while rolling her shoulders.
“Alright, that fucking does it,” she snarls. “I’m setting my phasers from ‘Stun’ to ‘Fuck Shit Up.’”
Rather than wait for her opponent to come to her, Park charges full speed ahead. When Trisha makes a grab for her, Yoona drops to a kneeling position and slides forward on her knees, earning herself some wicked mat burns but evading Belle’s grasps by going low. She skids to a stop just in front of Trisha’s legs, then she braces her right hand against the inside of Belle’s right thigh and swings her left elbow like a baseball bat into the outside of Trisha’s right knee. The precision Elbow Strike bends the joint in a way for which it was not intended, and Belle gives a sharp grunt of pain as the limb buckles.
Just as Trisha is dropping down to one knee, Yoona is rising from a crouch, and fist meets chin halfway in a powerful Rising Uppercut that puts Belle on her back and leaves Park standing upright with her right arm held up vertically.
“SHORYUKEN!” screams a particularly enthusiastic fan in the front row as he jumps to his feet, which in turns causes him to be pelted with popcorn for blocking the view of people sitting in the rows behind him.
Yoona doesn’t pay him any mind, as Trisha is already crawling to hands and knees. The Korean circles around behind her opponent, takes a lunging step forward with her left leg, then leans forward with her torso parallel to the ground and her right leg curved up and back like a scorpion’s tail. For a heartbeat or two she’s frozen in that position, and then her elastic sinews snap back into place, causing her to straighten at the waist while her right leg swings forward as a counterbalance.
The Soccer Punt splits Belle’s thighs as she’s on all fours, and hits so hard that Yoona’s foot aches.
Trisha, of course, has it much worse as the vicious low blow sets off an explosion of pain in her groin and causes her arch her back as a choked gasp escapes her lips. Had Trisha’s reputation been anything other than a savage, remorseless bully, the referee might have disqualified Park on the spot. As it were, the official issues a half-hearted warning which Yoona duly ignores.
Belle is still on her knees screaming a silent scream when the Korean twists her left arm behind her back in a Hammerlock. Briefly switching to a one handed grip on the arm lock, Yoona pulls Trisha’s head backwards and then traps Belle’s neck under her right armpit to secure the Dragon Sleeper. To cinch the hold even tighter, Park reaches her right hand down behind her opponent’s back to restore a two handed grip on the Hammerlock.
On her knees, bent over backwards, and with one arm trapped, Trisha can do little else except blindly flail and grope with her free arm.
“GAME OVER, MAN! GAME OVER!” Yoona jubilantly shouts, as she squats down and pounds a series of alternating Knee Strikes into her foe’s back, trying to hasten a submission.
It turns out her celebration is premature, however. Belle’s increasingly frantic groping hits pay dirt when she finds a handful of Yoona’s long, free-flowing black hair. A sharp tug on her hair does little to loosen Park’s submission hold but it does pull her face within range of Trisha’s talons, and then a rake across her right eye sends Yoona toppling to the mat with a screech.
The referee sighs to himself, and issues another warning that he knows will be ignored.
Freed from the Dragon Sleeper, Trisha rubs her throat as her face gradually returns to its normal color from a shade of deep purple. A couple of yards away, Yoona is rising to her feet with a palm pressed to her right eye. When she sees her opponent is up as well, the Korean tries to quickly rub the lingering bleariness out of her eye and brings both fists up in front of her face. She advances on the still recovering Belle, and flicks out a Left Jab that whiffs completely. A follow-up Shin Kick only lands a grazing hit on Trisha’s thigh, despite the Minnesotan making little effort to block or evade.
Trisha can’t help but break out into a grin when she realizes that Park’s wounded eye must be affecting her depth perception. She puts her theory to the test by hopping forward onto her left leg while shooting her right foot at Yoona’s head, a version of the Super Kick which she called the Belle Ringer. Sure enough, Park fails to create enough distance with her backstep and she’s sent sprawling to the mat in a daze when the heel of Trisha’s boot slams into her cheek.
Looking for some payback after the earlier low blow, Belle drags her opponent up and keeps the wobbly legged Korean standing with a handful of hair. Her other hand finds its way between Park’s thighs and she tears into Yoona’s groin with a Crotch Claw. The searing pain immediately brings Park back to her senses and she starts to shriek, but her cry is cut short by a second claw being shoved into her mouth.
Instead of looking for a submission with her Mandible and Crotch Claw combination, Trisha powers her smaller, lighter opponent up into an overhead Military Press while maintaining her dual hand holds. She walks over to the ropes, and the fans gasp when they realize what she has planned. Belle is unmoved by their concerns, however, and she bends her knees and elbows slightly before springing back up and tossing Yoona out of the ring like a sack of a potatoes.
Park is far from finished though, and she manages to grab two handfuls of Trisha’s hair just as she’s about to plummet to the thinly padded concrete outside. Belle doesn’t quite realize what’s happening, but it becomes very, very painfully clear a fraction of a second later when 128 pounds of free-falling ballast attached to her hair yanks her up and over the top ropes as well.
Trisha and Yoona tumble over the top rope together, the Korean hitting the floor first, but unfortunately for Park that isn't an advantage. Trisha's body falls hard on top of Yoona's, the weight of the Minnesotan driving a lot of air from Yoona's lungs with a loud, "OOOMPH!"
Belle comes out of the fall better, but not by much, the surprise tumble wrenching her neck badly and even with Park cushioning her fall, her ribs feel like she landed badly. Still, Trisha forces herself up, dragging the winded Yoona to her feet by the hair as the ref starts the 10 count for both of them.
"We'll be right there." Trisha assures the official before punching the still woozy Park in the face, once, twice, three times before rolling the Korean girl back into the ring, following just behind her.
Belle once again grabs the newer girl and forces her up, "Alright, let's get the formalities over with before the real fun starts." Belle then easily wraps an arm around Yoona’s throat, locking Park into a standing Sleeper Hold to make the woman like putty in Trisha's malicious hands.
Yoona instinctively bicycles her legs as Belle wrenches her neck and even lifts her off the mat for a few brief moments. Once the initial rush of panic fades, the more pragmatic side of her brain kicks into action. Thrashing madly would only waste energy and oxygen, thereby quickening her demise, so Park calms herself and goes into almost a meditative stillness even as Trisha is tightening the choke.
Feeling Belle’s breath on the back of her head, she’s able to get a rough idea of where her captor’s head is, then she makes a pair of “thumbs up” gestures and shoves them blindly behind her head. At least one eye poke seems to hit true, and Trisha releases the Sleeper Hold with a sharp scream. The sudden rush of blood back to her brain makes Yoona slightly woozy so she plants two hands on Belle’s shoulders for support, the larger woman still too preoccupied with the effects of the eye gouge to offer any resistance.
Once she’s had a moment or two to regain her bearings, Park pulls her opponent forward and then slams a Knee Strike into Trisha’s liver. Belle lets out a long, drawn-out groan and doubles over, a wave of pain and nausea spreading from her core as her squashed liver dumps its stored toxins directly into the bloodstream. A second later, Yoona clubs a forearm across the back of her neck, sending her face first into the canvas.
Park sits cross-legged on her opponent’s back and targets the left arm once more by twisting it into another Hammerlock, although this time she keeps the hold in place by wedging Trisha’s forearm into the keyhole formed by her legs. The Omoplata puts hellacious torque on Belle’s left shoulder, but Yoona is not looking for a submission. With the Minnesota pinned face down, she grabs a bunch of hair with her left hand and proceeds to rain punch after punch after punch into the back of Trisha’s head. Belle can only manage a feeble defense from her position with just one arm available to cover up her head, and the FAWNatics roar in delight when it seems the Korean has her opponent dead to rights.
In their zeal, the fans apparently forget that closed fists are technically not allowed, and their enthusiasm deflates like a cheap balloon when the referee physically drags Yoona away after a half dozen blows.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM, ASSHOLE?!” Park shrieks in frustration.
“No closed fists!” the official shouts. “No closed fists! Or else I’ll disqualify you!”
“Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me! You decide to enforce that stupid fucking rule now?!”
The referee gives her a stern, silent look with his hands propped on his hips.
“Look at these!” Yoona seethes while she holds up her hands. “Fucking look at these! Do you think I wear handwraps to be fashionable?! No! These are for punching stupid bitches in their stupid bitch-faces! So stay out of my way, fucktard, or else --”
Park sees something moving out of the corner of her eye, and she dodges just in time to avoid another Belle Ringer. The official isn’t so lucky as he gets a mouthful of boot leather and he sprawls into a heap on the mat. Down but not quite out, he starts to signal for a disqualification when Yoona plants a foot on the back of his head and then Curb Stomps him back into the canvas.
“No! Nuh-uh, shithead!” Park screams as she adds two more stomps for good measure to make sure the man is out cold. “Fuck you, and fuck your disqualifications!”
Trisha looks on with an arched eyebrow, slightly bemused. “You know that’s a five grand fine for each of us for attacking an official, right?”
“Well maybe if you could put him down with one kick I wouldn’t have to clean up your goddamn mess!” Yoona snaps.
Trisha lets out a slight chuckle, "Fair enough."
Then the Minnesota Mauler closes the gap between her and Yoona with a swift, short distance Clothesline that slams the smaller woman to the mat, head and neck taking a harsh impact, laying the Korean flat, Park left moaning and dazed on the ring floor.
Trisha drops to her knees, hooking Yoona's leg for an unofficial, but very satisfying pin, slapping the mat herself for a
"ONE!"
"TWO!"
And to the delight of the crowd and frustration and surprise of Belle, Park finds it in herself to throw a shoulder up, stopping even Trisha's arrogant self count.
"Ooh! I see. Tough girl wants me to really break her before she lays down. Okay. I'm here to please."
With that, Belle sits up and slaps Yoona twice firmly on the cheek, "Now stay awake, honey. Don't want you to sleep through what I'm here to teach you."
With that Trisha drags the Korean girlHYPERLINK "http://girl.to/" HYPERLINK "http://girl.to/" to her feet, steadying her just a bit before throwing her to the corner. Park almost bounces off the turnbuckle, but after her back slams into the corner her arms instinctively drape over the top rope to keep her on her feet.
With Yoona right where she wants her, Trisha charges, ready to deliver a nasty Spear to the still wobbly Park. Unable to move out of the way in time, Yoona can only tightly grip the cables for support and steel herself for impact. The force of Belle’s shoulder driving into her midsection nearly cuts her in half and she almost vomits on the spot, though with a great deal of effort she’s able to swallow the burning, sour stomach acid that had worked its way up to the back of her mouth.
“Harder,” Yoona croaks between ragged pants of breath. “You hit like a fucking amateur.”
Trisha backs up to the middle of the ring then charges forward again to deliver a second Spear. This time Park is ready, and Belle ends up ramming her right shoulder into a very hard knee rather than a soft abdomen.
Spurred into action by her opponent’s scream of pain, Yoona snatches Trisha’s right wrist and climbs into a seat on the top turnbuckle. She pulls the larger woman in closer by the injured limb, then she tightly wraps her legs around Trisha’s head and arm and completes the Triangle Choke by wedging her right ankle into the pit of her left knee behind Belle’s head.
Trisha makes a fist with her left hand and immediately starts pounding on her captor’s legs, stomach, and chest trying to free herself, but the persistent Korean stubbornly refuses to let go. To make matters worse for Belle, Park shifts her weight so that she falls off the turnbuckle and her tumble to the floor is arrested when top rope catches Trisha directly across the chest and underneath the right armpit.
Yoona, hanging upside down from Trisha’s neck and arm by her legs, flashes a weary but triumphant grin at her opponent. It would only be thirty seconds or a minute tops before Belle succumbs to the rope-hung Triangle Choke.
Excruciatingly aware of her predicament, Trisha clenches the top rope with her left hand in a white-knuckled grip. She tries pushing off and leaning back, doing everything she can to drag the Korean back over the ropes in order to alleviate some of the pressure, but by now she’s too worn down to summon the strength to perform such a feat. Running out of time and air, Belle thinks back to earlier in the match and she realizes that the only way out is up and over. She takes a moment to steady her nerves, then leaps headfirst over the top rope.
Park immediately realizes what’s happening, so she surrenders her grip on Trisha’s wrist to grab onto the bottom rope instead. Just as Belle is flipping over, she also unlocks her legs to avoid being taken along for a ride to the arena floor. As a result, Trisha makes the fall alone and takes the devastating impact on the back of her neck and shoulders, a victim of a self-inflicted Hurricanrana. Meanwhile, Yoona lies on her back on the ring apron, electing to catch her breath rather than press the offensive.
“You’re one crazy fucker,” Park says with a humorless chuckle as she watches Belle struggle to make her way up. “How much would they have fined me if you had broken your own goddamn neck there?”
Trisha drags herself upright with the help of the steel barricade and leans against it for support. With no referee, both women are content to take their time in recovering. Yoona rolls back under the bottom rope and moves to a seated position with her back up against the bottom turnbuckle as she watches Belle out of the corner of her eyes.
“You know, the only reason I came out here tonight was because Olivia Dare texted me,” Park says as she keeps a wary eye on her opponent. “Said something about trying my luck against the big bitch who wrecked her BFF Eliza at Mania. Honestly, I wasn’t impressed. Bliss shitting the bed is like death and taxes these days. If you put her in a Triple Threat Match in the main event, I’m sure she’d find some way to get her perky ass pinned twice.”
Trisha doesn’t seem to be listening as she tends to her shoulder and neck, although Park continues her monologue.
“I have to admit though, you’re better than I expected, Cheesehead. For your valiant efforts, I think I’ll fuck you into submission.”
The FAWNatics cheer, as nothing would please them more than to see Yoona make good on her catty threat. Trisha is less amused as she reaches over the barricade to haul a fan out of his seat before commandeering his chair as a weapon.
Seeing her opponent ascend the ring steps while brandishing a weapon wipes the cheeky grin off Park’s face. She stands up and pulls off her tank top, drawing a chorus cheers and catcalls from those appreciative of the now topless Korean.
“Tch! A steel chair…” Yoona snorts as she wraps the tank top around her left arm to form a makeshift elbow pad. “Gonna be that kind of fight, huh?”
“Hey, you threw a phone at me,” Trisha counters, causing her opponent to roll her eyes.
Pleasantries dispensed with, Belle swings the chair at Park’s head, though the shifty ex-ballerina manages to dodge the blow by leaning backwards like she were doing the limbo. Unfortunately for her, committing to the dodge leaves her open to the follow-up attack, and Trisha takes advantage by jabbing the edge of the chair into her gut and dropping Yoona to one knee with a pained grunt.
Belle flashes a malicious grin as she lines up the chair with the left side of Park’s drooping head and prepares to deliver the coup de grace. The fans gasp loudly when Trisha swings the weapon with terrifying force, and there is a loud clang that seems to reverberate throughout the arena. Instead of cracking Yoona’s skull like an egg, however, the steel chair bounces off of the point of her left elbow. The impact might have shattered her arm otherwise, but wrapping her shirt around the joint provides the Korean with just enough protection to safely -- though still very, very painfully -- absorb the vicious hit.
“Clever girl,” Trisha sneers.
She tries to wind up for another chair shot and is foiled when Park grabs onto the other end of the chair. The two wrestlers engage in a brief tug of war over the weapon, and it is immediately obvious that Yoona is at an insurmountable disadvantage by virtue of being smaller and on her knees rather than standing. Belle drags her a couple of feet forward, and that’s when she suddenly releases her hold on the chair.
Unprepared for the sudden lack of resistance, Trisha falls victim to her own inertia as she stumbles backwards and hits herself in the face with the chair. Dazed but still upright, Belle staggers a few steps with the chair still in her hands and then finally goes down when Park rams the chair into her face for a second time with a charging Shoulder Block.
Yoona rubs the stinging soreness out of her right shoulder as she looks down on her glassy-eyed opponent. She considers pinning Trisha, and then dismisses the thought a moment later when she remembers that the referee is still unconscious. She looks at the steel chair lying flat on the canvas and just as quickly dismisses the idea of using it to pound Belle into a pancake because she considers herself far too talented and capable to have to resort to such tactics.
Instead, she unfolds the chair in the center of the ring and takes a seat. Just to spite her opponent, Yoona begins loudly singing the refrains from a medley of the catchiest, most sugary K-pop songs she knows. She’s about halfway through Wonder Girls’ “Nobody” when Belle starts climbing upright, and Park abandons her impromptu concert, kicks the chair to one corner, and drags Trisha up the rest of the way with two handfuls of hair.
Belle isn’t standing for very long though, as Park immediately traps her in a Front Facelock. Camille had been pushing her to add more throws and grapples to her arsenal, and Yoona decides that now is as good as a time as any to start experimenting. While still keeping her foe’s head trapped, she jumps up so that her gut is briefly balanced on the point of Trisha’s right shoulder. After taking a second to gather herself she forcefully jackknifes backwards, pulling Belle along for the ride.
Yoona lands flat on her back, and Trisha has it much worse when she lands on the crown of her head. The Implant DDT leaves the big Minnesotan upside down and vertical for a brief moment before gravity takes over, causing her to complete the somersault by falling onto her back. Her head is still trapped in the Front Facelock, however, and Park capitalizes by smoothly rolling backwards over her own head even as Trisha is toppling to the mat like a felled redwood. As a result she ends up sitting in Belle’s lap with a Guillotine Choke secured, and then she quickly adds a Front Bodyscissor by crossing her ankles behind Trisha’s back.
Whatever the effects of the Implant DDT, they seem to be immediately dispelled when Belle feels her waist and neck getting simultaneously squeezed. She spasms and shakes like she’s being electrocuted, thrashing about with far more strength than seems possible this far into the match. It seems to be a futile effort as Park just cinches the submission tighter, but then Trisha manages to sink her claws into Yoona’s right deltoid. Channeling all of her strength into her left hand, Belle squeezes like her life depends on it.
“ARRRGGH!!! FUCK!” Yoona shrieks as a searing, electric shock runs the whole length of her right arm. Normally she might have held on until her opponent passed out, but having just rammed her shoulder into a steel chair earlier, she is forced to relinquish the Guillotine Choke.
Park rolls clear and begins massaging the pins and needles sensation out of her arm, while Belle lightly presses a hand to her throat and gulps down huge mouthfuls of air.
“Clever girl,” Yoona repeats, prompting Trisha to reply with a small, crooked grin.
At this point it’s very evident that the two wrestlers are equally exhausted, large beads of sweat rolling down their faces as they force themselves to stand, both huffing heavily in their very tired states. Trisha throws her arms up in a defensive stance as Yoona leans in the corner, still massaging her shoulder.
"Come on! We're not done yet," Belle yells emphatically, her hands making an appropriate accompanying gesture, inviting Park in for a lockup.
The Korean girl takes up the Minnesota Mauler's invitation and the two meet at center ring, locking into a collar and elbow. For a moment they both struggle for dominance, but Trisha takes the advantage backing the smaller Korean girl into the nearest corner. Even with her back to the turnbuckles, Yoona starts throwing punches and knees faster than Trisha, hitting the Minnesotan hard in the ribs and abs with some solid strikes, but Trisha makes up for her slower delivery with some added power, hooks and haymakers to Yoona's body making the packed arena crowd think the two girls forgot to keep wrestling and have begun bare-knuckle boxing instead.
But Belle gets them back on track with a hard knee between Yoona's legs that gets a harsh yelp from the smaller girl. And with her dominance secured, Trisha grabs Park by the arm and flings the Korean to the opposite turnbuckles.
Trisha rushes behind Yoona, giving Park just enough room to turn and take the turnbuckles to the back before Belle splashes the smaller girl between the Minnesota Mauler's body and the corner. And with that, Trisha has Yoona where she really wants her, Park leaning into Belle for support as the Minnesotan backs out of the corner. Trisha snatches Yoona's hair and drags the Korean former beach fighter to mid-ring again, hooking Yoona's elbows and forcing her head between powerful milky thighs as Trisha sets up her coup de grâce, the Belle Toll.
While Yoona isn't able to get the upperhand, she is able to distract Trisha – and, admittedly, herself – from the movement coming from the skirt of the ring. A flap of canvas flips up and a shapely woman crawls out from underneath.
RUE ANN MACKENNA:
Rue Ann straightens up and winks to the front row. Her usual ring attire is missing. Instead, the curvy redhead is in a tied-off flannel shirt, Daisy Dukes, fingerless weighted gloves and vintage running cleats. A Hello Kitty backpack on Rue's back has been defaced with the words “FRIENDSHIP BAG!”
Rue Ann slinks into the ring, withdrawing a rusty bike chain from her pack. Wrapping both ends around her hands, she sneaks behind Belle. As the Minnesotan straightens up for her Pedigree finisher, Rue Ann leaps onto her back, wrapping the chain across Trisha's throat.
At first, the Amazon doesn't know what's going on. But as Rue criss-crosses the chain behind Trisha's head she also plants both sets of sharp, metal cleats into Belle's back. Trisha is almost thirty pounds heavier than the hillbilly, but having over one hundred and twenty pounds hanging from one's back – by a chain – takes a quick toll. Trisha is unable to keep her hold on Yoona, who slips out and falls back. Rue gives another yank on Belle throat before dismounting from her back. Splatters of red appear up Trisha's back, immediately being soaked in by her tank top. Rue pulls Trisha backward, bowing out her torso.
“Hey, Boo,” Rue says, sweet as can be. “Is this a bad time? I feel like we should really talk about what happened.”
She shoves both chain ends in one hand and slams the weighed glove up into the brunette's crotch, full force. Trisha's mouth rounds into a perfect “O” but the choke gags her enough to quiet her.
Knowing Trisha will gather her wits at any time and start fighing back, Rue Ann pivots and uses the chain to sling Trisha to the side. Normally, this would have been laughable but Trisha's just tired enough, and a little wobbly kneed from the punch to the lady flower, to go over. She collides with the mat, catching herself with her arms. MacKenna decides this isn't acceptable, leaping into the middle of Trisha's back. The cleats bite in and Trisha roars furiously, like a trapped wildcat. Rue drops her knees into Trisha's shoulder blades, yanks her hair back and begins punching Trisha over and over in the face with a fist wrapped in bike chain.
Trisha knows a lot about Rue: her weird family, her obnoxious snort-giggle she did when she saw small wrinkly dogs, her intricate opinions on theater, her needs to hurt people and how she latched onto someone like they were the best and only friend she'd ever had. What Trisha had never had a chance to learn about, until now, was how hard the little thug hits. Maybe it is the exhaustion talking but MacKenna's every slug comes with a flash of pain and dizzying light. The rusty bike chain doesn't help, nor the cleats burying themselves further into her flesh. Rue rises again only to drop to a knee at the base of Trisha's skull.
Belle's movements have slowed down, thanks to a beating-choking cocktail. Rue steps off her former friend, removing the shoes. “Ugh, how do people wear these all the time?” She looks to the fans and holds them up. “Who wants a souvenir?” Rue almost lobs them into the crowd but remembers – oh, yeah. Cleats. She drops them to the side instead. Rue strides over to the chair and drags it to the corner closest to Trisha. Rue heaves up Belle, who's muttering what can only be assumed to be threats as Rue clumsily lifts and drape her across the chair's seat. MacKenna climbs the turnbuckles, poses atop the ringpost, and launches herself for a Senton Bomb!
SENTON BOMB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=dIQ92z79Oic
The chair beneath Trisha gives away, breaking into pieces. Trisha's ribs, thankfully, do not although EMTs will likely want a look. Rue looks down at the knocked-out woman and frowns. She sighs, sliding her hands up Trisha's top and gives her breasts a squeeze. “Gonna miss 'accidentally' touching these.” She looks to Yoona. “Oh, hey! Uh, sorry about this.” Rue stands and pulls Trisha to the center of the ring. She points. “All yours, darlin'. I'll get the ref up.”
Yoona looks at Rue incredulously as she gets to her feet. "Yeah. She was all mine even before you stuck your big fucking hillbilly nose into this. Ever heard of waiting your fucking turn?" Yoona asks, stepping over the splayed Belle to confront the redhead in front of her.
Uncharacteristically calm, Rue holds up her hands.
“I get it. I do. This isn't cool on my part. Your match. She and I had a bit of a tiff. She jumped me after a match and tried to hospitalize me.” Rue rubs her neck and laughs, “You know how it goes. But her ego won't let this stand. I'm sure you'll get a chance to beat her again later when she screams about how she had you. In the meantime!” Rue reaches down and yanks off Trisha's top, exposing her large breasts. “You get to lay across those! C'mon, that's prime cut sweater steaks!” Rue winks. “Let's just go ahead and wrap this up. Whattaya say? I'll buy you an apology beer.”
"No, no no," Yoona won't let go of this issue. "She attacked you AFTER your match." She pokes an index finger at Rue's ample chest. "You know what, fuck this. You're just begging for what I had in store for your former BFF."
With that Yoona cocks her fist back and throws a hook aimed to connect with Rue's ribs, but her speed isn't what it would be after a long fought match with Trisha, so even when she's trying to surprise Rue, the move is badly telegraphed, Rue easily backing off to avoid the swing.
Rue can only sigh, “We're not getting out of this without a fight, are we?”
She flings her hands down and open, shaking the weighted gloves off. The smaller woman steps forward and brings her fist into Yoona's belly with all of her might. Already horribly battered, Yoona folds over. MacKenna raises both elbows and slams them into the back of each of Yoona's shoulders, driving her down further. Rue Ann pulls Yoona by her long hair and leads her to Trisha's feet. The Kentuckian tucks Yoona's head between her thighs and lifts her for a Powerbomb. Yoona's taller but not much heavier, and a lifetime of farm work has prepped Rue for heavy, and sometimes awkward, burdens. Rue slams Yoona down onto Trisha's limp body, the Minnesotan's rack acting as a pillow. Rue undoes her top, letting her boobs come out to play. She sits astride both women's legs and slinks toward's Yoona's face.
“Again, very sorry about this. It's disrespectful of you and your girlfriend. I hope you don’t enjoy it too much and have problems with the little lady.”
Rue reaches under Trisha and lifts her up, in turn guiding Yoona into Rue's own breasts to encase her in a juggy smother.
Trisha's body flops limply upon the impact of Yoona's back being driven into her chest, still laid out flat in a spread eagle position from before. But Yoona makes much more noise, moaning and sore and angry, she's about to curse Rue out just as the redhead straddles her and forces Park's face between her mountainous tits. Yoona is far less happy about this predicament than Rue assumed she'd be, Park throwing punches to MacKenna's ribs and kidneys, but the punches are far less impactful than the Korean's full power following the nasty back and forth she's had with Trisha. Rue doesn't have to wait long for the minor punches to turn to half-hearted slaps, and after another moment Yoona's arms get heavy, unable to even lift from her side, her feet slowly shifting back and forth on the ring mat in a weak struggle to stay conscious, her nose and mouth trying desperately for air and only sucking at the flesh of Rue's chest.
“Sshhh, there, there,” Rue whispers to Yoona in a soothing voice. The FAWN newcomer wasn't going out as fast as Rue would like. Normally, this would mean it was time for torture – cause the woman hurt, make her fight back and let her use up energy and air. But, despite being a generally mean-spirited person, Rue does feel bad about interrupting Yoona's match. She doesn't know her. Hell, she's actually liked what she's seen so far. But she needs to end this. There is, of course, another way to tire her out.
Rue's right hand goes into Yoona's trunk while her left finds one of the trapped woman's nipples to tease. Normally, this would be a sign of pain to come and the look in Yoona's eyes show she expects it. But Rue knows her way around a woman's anatomy and commences gentle caressing and teasing. She even begins to grind atop Yoona and talking in a different tone.
“This isn't so bad, is it, Yoona?” Rue purrs. “Trapped between four large breasts, being touched just right.” Rue's fingers move to “invade Yoona's space” as it were. The demeanor of the struggling woman definitely changes, as does the breathing patterns. Hot, heavy breathing fills Rue's cleavage, as well as muffled sounds of what MacKenna assumes is pleasure. Rue continues, whispering suggestive promises only Yoona can hear, describing carnal scenes that are Yoona's to imagine alone as she is whisked off to nymphomaniac dreams. Rue continues playing with the woman even after she's sure she's out cold, to give her some good dreams and a bit of a finish.
She withdraws her hand and gives Yoona a soft kiss, “You're gonna hate me and that's fair.”
Rue gets up and rolls Yoona onto her belly, letting her pin Trisha. Rue immediately rushes to rouse the referee. She gives him a few quick slaps.
“Hey! No sleeping on the job!” Rue barks. The referee's eyes blink. He hears the fans offering a mix of boos and cheers but doesn't know why. He looks up at Rue Ann. Before he speaks, she points, “Your job, man!” The official looks to the center the ring and sees Yoona on top of Belle. He clumsily wobbles towards them, falling to the mat to slap out a count.
The referee slaps out the count.
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
The bell sounds. “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner of this match… YOONA PARK!”
The fan reaction is mixed. While almost all wanted to see Trisha lose to Yoona, few wanted to see it go down like this. Some, however, seem thrilled to have Belle knocked down and out – Yoona getting Rue's hands on attention is a bonus, too.
The ref goes to grab Yoona's wrist but Rue interrupts him, “Hey, I think you have a concussion You should really go get checked out. Like, right now.” She points up to the entry ramp. Still addled, the referee slurs, “Okay,” and leaves the ring, stumbling backstage.
This leaves Rue to look back to the sleeping couple. Rue gently lifts Yoona into a cradle, giving her a quick hug to her bosom before sitting her up in a corner. Then she returns to Trisha Belle.
First thing, Rue Ann removes Trisha's yoga shorts. She twirls them on her fingers, pointing to the fans with her other hand. Few can turn down a keepsake like this, and there's no telling when Trisha Belle's attire will be all the way off, so greedy hands reach. Rue slings them into the fans and returns to Trisha, now naked save for boots and pads.
Rue wonders if Trisha's ever been stripped in FAWN before. She's certainly enjoyed doing it to others. But so has Rue.
The redhead drags the larger woman to the corner opposite of Yoona. Propping Belle up, Rue pulls two sets of handcuffs. She cuffs each of Trisha's wrists to the top cables and then lifts her legs over the bottom cables, suspending her spread-eagle in the corner. The flashes from FAWNatics and their camera phones is instantaneous.
This gives Rue an idea. She looks for the Gladiatrix photographer. Spying him, she bids him to enter the ring. The camera man nervously follows orders and slides under the bottom rope. Rue grabs him by the hands and pulls him next to her.
“Document all of this,” she commands. “This is your big spread.” She smirks at Trisha's limp, hanging form. “Take that how you want.”
A man of moral character and scruples would say no and walk away. Fortunately for Rue, FAWN's official magazine never once hired someone like that. The photographer immediately gets pictures of Rue Ann posing with Trisha like a trophy fish. MacKenna makes sure he gets pictures of every inch of Trisha's body while she fishes in her backpack again, pulling out a small tin of red paint and paintbrush. She pops the tin open, dips in the brush, and paints a “T” on Trisha's face. Dips again, paints an “R” on her throat. An “A” on her upper chest. And so on, she spells the word “TRAITOR” out on Trish's body, putting the “R” just above her womanhood.
“I oughta shove this brush up there,” Rue Ann says aloud.
Instead, she takes the paint and pours it over Trisha's head, letting it spill down the woman's body and back. “Paint and open wounds are gonna be fun for you,” MacKenna says, giving the slumbering beauty a kiss on the cheek. She looks to the fans.
“There are a lot of things to hate about FAWN. Weak women who don't belong in the ring. Underhanded double-dealers. General scumbags. And probably more than a few walking libraries of venereal disease.” She looks back at Trisha. “But there is nothing, and no one, more worthless than a backstabber. No matter how big you are, nothing makes you smaller than betraying someone who's been dedicated to you.”
Rue begins pummeling Trisha's body, focusing on her belly and breasts. She knows Trisha won't react but she wants to give her injuries she'll feel for days to come – a soreness that will be with her. She pounds in a few knees and claw rips to the crotch.
Even FAWNatics who usually live for this find it almost uncomfortable to watch. Just as the bruises start to show on Trisha's body, Rue stops. She knows she could, if she wanted, do some serious damage to Trisha's body. Career affecting damage. Security is always slow. But this? This will be humiliation, something Trisha's never really felt. Pictures of this will follow Belle for years to come. It's not everything, but it's a seed in the garden.
Rue grabs her backpack and walks towards Yoona. From the sound of cheering fans she knows FAWN security is finally arriving. Rue reaches in her back and withdraws three things: a box of fine chocolates, a little balloon with the words “I'm Sorry” on it, and a card in an envelope. She leaves the chocolates and the card in Yoona's lap, tying the balloon’s string to the chocolates. Rue Ann looks behind her to see security guards, not really sure what to make of this.
“I'm out, guys,” Rue says, holding up her hands. “No worries from me.”
MacKenna slides under the bottom rope and strides up the aisle. She knows this is all going to get worse before it gets better, if it ever does. But sometimes, you've just gotta get it all out there.
She looks back at the ring and the commotion within.
It doesn't get much more “out there” than this.