Post by bigfan on Oct 21, 2017 23:06:44 GMT
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to... FAAWWNNAAAAMANIAAAAAA! the announcer boomed, officially kicking off FAWN’s biggest show of the year and prompting the capacity crowd to rise to their feet and scream their lungs out. ”Now please give a warm round of applause for your Girl of Tomorrow… CAMILLE COSWORTH!”
Truth be told, the FAWNatics didn’t need much prodding to cheer Camille Cosworth, and they raised the noise to triple-digits on the decibel meter when the woman in question strode through the curtains at the top of the entrance ramp. She was dressed in what appeared to be street clothes, with a red leather motorcycle jacket, matching pants, sneakers, and her latest officially licensed T-shirt bearing the slogan I DO MY OWN STUNTS. Instead of sprinting to the ring at top speed chased by a fireball, Camille took her time walking down the entrance ramp, brushing her hands against anyone and everyone who reached out to her while soaking in the adoration. Cosworth walked a lap around the squared circle to give high fives to the fans at ringside as well, then she walked up the steps to the apron and gracefully hurdled over the top rope to land in the center of the mat. She stretched an arm out to the side to summon a microphone, then deftly plucked it out of the air when it was thrown at her.
CAMILLE COSWORTH
“Wow… wooooooooow...” Camille laughed into the mic. “You know, I’ve been here for more than a year now, and there are still nights that I can’t believe any of this is real… But, umm, yeah… welcome to the big show, guys!”
More cheers from the crowd, and then a man in the front row called out, “I LOVE YOU, CAMMY!”
“I LOVE YOU TOO, RANDOM STRANGER!” Cosworth shouted back. “So anyway, I wanted to --”
“SHOW ME THE TITS OF TOMORROW!” the fan demanded, apparently deciding to push his luck after a generous helping of liquid courage.
There was a smattering of laughter, and even Camille seemed more bemused than offended as she cracked a wry grin and said, “Honestly, I’m kinda impressed. Gates have only been open for what? Forty five minutes? And you’ve already gotten sloshed on watered down, seven dollar per cup arena beer?! That kind of dedication is frickin’ amazing! Everyone give this man a round of applause!”
The other fans obliged in good humor while the intrepid cameramen and production team put his image on the FAWNtron, and that appeared to satisfy the rowdy drunk without Cosworth having to disrobe. He sat back in his seat having received his Mania moment, and after a few seconds the crowd quieted down, eager to hear what Camille had to say.
“Before I was the Girl of Tomorrow… before I signed onto FAWN… before I could even do a Shooting Star Press… I wanted to be one of you,” she said with a starry, wistful look in her eyes. “To sit in those seats… to cheer the heroes and boo the villains and just be amazed by the spectacle on the greatest stage of them all. There was nothing I wanted more than a trip to Orlando and a ticket to FAWNamania… seriously, guys, it was on my bucket list. I mean, come on, what kind of teenager has a bucket list, but honest to God I would’ve been happy being here just once in my life. To think I could be at Mania year after year after year… and that instead of watching the spectacle I could BE the spectacle… well, what can I say except ‘Thank you.’ Thank you for letting this wannabe get to be.”
Cosworth folded one arm across her stomach and the other behind her back, and then she bent over at the waist to give a deep, formal bow to the FAWNatics. In return, they serenaded her with a chant of “YOU DESERVE IT!” while she repeated the gesture towards each of the four sides of the building. Once that was done, Camille stood up straight and took a deep breath, then with a great deal of effort, she swallowed the lump in her throat before bringing the microphone to her lips again.
“So guys, I have good news and bad news. Bad news first -- I don’t have a match booked for Mania.”
The assembled fans groaned in disappointment, and Cosworth held up a hand to silence them as she offered an explanation.
“I had planned to fully dedicate myself to supporting Yoona at ringside tonight, as she had done for me a year ago. Or at least that was the plan until she insisted that I remain backstage, under pain of sleeping on the couch.”
A worried look flickered across Camille’s features as she thought of ordeals that her girlfriend had in store later in the evening, though she quickly forced a smile back onto her face, opting to compartmentalize and focus on the parts of FAWN that she loved versus the parts that she didn't.
“So now the good news -- I don’t have a match booked for Mania. That means I get to do whatever I want, and what I want is to pay it forward. Last year, I stood in this very ring and climbed the Dragon’s Gate to become the Girl of Tomorrow. This year, I want to help someone else do the same and find her place in FAWN. So here’s my offer: I’ll wrestle a match -- tonight, at the show of shows -- with the first person to answer my call. So regardless if you’re down here from the Jungle, or if you’re an indy wrestler sitting in the stands, or even if you’re just a dreamer looking for her big shot --”
“Ooh! Ooh! Me! Me me me me me! Pick me! Pick me!” someone called out loudly enough to be heard even without a microphone.
The Girl of Tomorrow craned her head around towards the direction where the voice had come from, and she saw a young blonde awkwardly coming down the entrance ramp. The newcomer was apparently in such a rush that she hadn’t even finished changing into her ring gear backstage, and now she was in the process of trying to put on her second boot while hopping along on one foot. She tried waving at Camille, but that turned out to be one action too many for her to multitask, and she ended up tripping and face-planting onto the steel walkway to a mix of groans and laughter from the audience. That seemed to convince her to slow down, and she took a seat on the ground and tightly laced up both her boots before making her way ringside.
BIANCA SIMPSON
Camille searched her memory for a name as she watched her would-be opponent roll into the ring underneath the bottom ropes, and with a bit of hesitation she asked, “...err… Bianca, right?”
The blonde’s eyes and mouth widened with shock as she stammered, “You know my name…! No one knows my name!”
Cosworth didn’t know what to say to that, so she shrugged her shoulders with a sheepish expression on her face.
“I send you messages on Twitter all the time, but you never respond!” Bianca continued to say. “I thought you’d --”
“Oh! Oh right… I, uhh, I stopped reading messages a while ago. It kinda got hard to keep up with all that once I hit a million followers, you know?”
Simpson sucked in a deep inhale of breath through her teeth as she tried to keep herself from visibly cringing. Her own Twitter account had recently passed the two hundred follower mark, a momentous occasion she was planning to commemorate with the finest non-alcoholic strawberry daiquiris that the local Applebee’s had to offer. Now, that milestone seemed less worthy of celebration, especially in light of the fact that perhaps a third of Bianca’s followers consistently mistook her for developmental darling Charlie Dawson instead.
She quickly shook off that wet blanket of self-doubt, however, and she dropped into a ready crouch and shouted at the Girl of Tomorrow, “Alright, let’s do this! I like you a lot, but don’t think that means I’m going easy on you!”
“Woah, wait a minute!” Camille said as she made a T-shape with her hands. “I’m not even dressed yet, and besides, there’s no ref --”
Cosworth cut herself off when she saw Merle jogging down the entrance ramp. She rolled her eyes and sighed, and as soon as the man slipped through the ropes she started pleading her case, but the official was having none of it.
“Sorry Camille, but we’re on a tight schedule. If you guys are gonna do this, you need to do this now,” he informed her, before adding with a knowing wink, “Oh, and by the way, I noticed that you used the stairs this time...”
Camille wordlessly scoffed, but she still acquiesced to the official’s demands as she slipped out of her jacket and hung it in one corner, leaving her dressed in her t-shirt, motorcycle pants, and sneakers. Across the ring, Bianca was more appropriately clothed in her standard red one piece along with white boots and pads at her elbows and knees. Ever the dutiful referee, Merle checked both women for weapons even knowing that he’d find nothing, and he signaled for the opening bell once he predictably came up empty.
The fans roared to life as the FAWNamania action officially got started, and the two wrestlers strode out to the center of the ring for a pre-match fist bump. Once the show of sportsmanship was done, Bianca twirled her fists in front of her face like an old-timey boxer, going back to the tactic that had let her briefly dominate the action against Kylie Sanders a month ago.
For her part, Camille made no move to engage and merely sized the blonde up with a curiously raised eyebrow. While fisticuffs weren’t really a staple of Cosworth’s arsenal, she had sparred with Yoona enough times to know what a top flight striker looked like, and Simpson didn’t fit the bill by any means. Even so, it was the biggest show of the year, so she decided to play along for the time being.
Camille held up her right hand in front of her face, then curled it into a finger gun with her index and middle digits forming the barrel. She wiped her left hand across the top of her right as if pulling back the slide on a pistol to check for a round in the chamber, then she gripped the bottom of her right hand and motioned as if to pull out the magazine. Chucking the imaginary clip over her shoulder, the Girl of Tomorrow retrieved a fresh one from her waistband and slammed her left palm into the bottom of her right hand to reload her finger gun. Finally, she racked the slide once more to load a bullet into the barrel, clicked her tongue to imitate that Kch-chk! sound, and --
“Geez, this is really elaborate!” Merle mused out loud, causing both women to stop what they were doing and stare at him in confusion. “I thought you would’ve just cocked your thumb like most people do, but you really went the extra mile with the realism and the onomatopeia!”
“Uhh… thanks, I guess…?” Camille offered, her gun transforming back into a hand as she absentmindedly rubbed the back of her neck. “I mean, I did grow up in a military family in Texas so it’s second nature to me, kinda like riding a bicycle or something...”
That only seemed to cause more confusion, as the other wrestler and the official exchanged a weird look before directing their gazes back to Cosworth.
“You grew up in Texas?!” Merle blurted out in disbelief. “Never would’ve guessed by your accent!”
“You know how to ride a bicycle?!” Bianca gushed with equal incredulity.
Slightly annoyed, Camille pinched the bridge of her nose and groaned, “Errr… c’mon guys… weren’t we on a tight schedule...?”
Suitably chastised, Merle silently stepped aside and motioned for the wrestlers to carry on. Simpson was quick to seize initiative as she stormed forward with her fists cocked, but she had telegraphed her intentions too clearly. The Girl of Tomorrow twisted sideways to avoid the wild Haymaker while she simultaneously reformed the finger gun on her right hand. Her blonde opponent was in the process of winding up for another punch when Camille pressed her fingertip barrel into Bianca’s stomach and fired off her One Inch Punch with a lightning quick twist of her hips.
The understated but explosive impact knocked Simpson back from whence she came, her spine smashing against the corner turnbuckles before she collapsed into a motionless heap on the mat. Just like that, the crowd’s energy deflated with a sympathetic ooh, and even Cosworth seemed a little remorseful that she had opened the match with the heavy artillery.
“Didn’t have to blow her away in two seconds… the schedule wasn’t that tight…” Merle muttered under his breath before he began his ten-count towards a knockout.
Fortunately, Bianca showed signs of life by “FIVE!” and with the help of the ropes she made it to her feet by a few seconds later to halt the count at “EIGHT!” She wasn’t fully recovered though, and as soon as she took a couple of steps towards the center of the ring, she collapsed back down to hands and knees and started dry heaving.
“Hnnnrrkk… bullets…! My only weakness…” Simpson gasped in between bouts of retching. “H -- How did you know…?!”
Camille chewed on her bottom lip to hold in a guffaw, as she wasn’t sure if the gutshot blonde was actually trying to make a joke in such a fraught situation. She didn’t do a good enough job of hiding her mirth, however, as a look of hurt and irritation briefly flashed across Bianca’s face as the rookie got off the mat again.
Once she had successfully suppressed her gag reflex, Simpson harrumphed indignantly and called out, “Hmmph! That was a pretty good shot, but one lucky hit isn’t going to keep me down! I’m the woman who almost beat Kylie Sanders!”
There was a smattering of chuckles and chortles from the ringside fans who were less than impressed with that last boast, though she paid them no mind and bellowed, “MAXIMUM EFFORT!”
Bianca shot towards the brunette as fast as her legs could carry her. Once she got within a couple of feet, she took to the air and aimed the soles of her boots at her opponent’s chest with a keening warcry. Simpson only got a modest height on her leap, but Camille was only average in height and for a moment it seemed as if her Dropkick was perfectly on target.
Unfortunately, whatever the Girl of Tomorrow lacked in size she more than made up for with freak-show athleticism, and after months of sharing a practice ring with Lily Burlingame at the Hellhole, poor Bianca practically moved in slow motion by comparison. Cosworth calmly sidestepped the incoming Dropkick, then she wrapped both of her arms around the blonde’s outstretched calves to pluck the rookie from the air. Before gravity could take hold of Simpson and pull her down to the mat, Camille started spinning in a tight circle, thus keeping Bianca airborne and earning a “HO-LY SHIT!” chant from the audience that progressively got faster and faster to keep pace with the quickening revolutions of the Giant Swing.
GIANT SWING:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=TTnvA3bLdKc
Simpson futilely flailed her arms and howled in terror as her world turned into a disorienting swirl of colors and lights. Even worse, the sheer force of the rotation was making all the blood in her body rush to her head, exacerbating her dizziness. She screamed that she was going to throw up, and Camille must have seen the nauseated look on her face because the Giant Swing promptly slowed to a stop. Once she had gently laid Bianca on the canvas, the Girl of Tomorrow quickly backpedaled to a safe distance as a precaution in the event of projectile vomiting. It turned out to be unnecessary, however, as Bianca provided incontrovertible proof that her stomach was empty by rolling to the edge of the ring and dry heaving for the second time in the span of a minute to further groans from the audience, her opponent, and even the referee.
Once her stomach had un-knotted itself, Simpson pounded a closed fist into the mat, clambered to her feet, and said to herself, “Alright, B… third time’s the charm. Show her what you got!”
Bianca raised her right arm up overhead and curled her hand into a claw, the universal invitation to lock up in a Test of Strength, though Camille went so far as to engage with a quizzically raised eyebrow.
“How do you like MY gun show, Camille?!” Simpson shouted as flexed and gave her right bicep a kiss before she raised her hand and twitched her fingers once more. “I’ve been doing twenty pushups a day… ten in the morning and ten at night!”
To the rookie’s surprise, that only seemed to make Cosworth more reluctant, and Bianca mentally noted with a great deal of satisfaction that the Girl of Tomorrow must have been intimidated by her display of firepower. The FAWNatics were under no such delusions, however, and they quickly started a “TEST… YOUR… MIGHT!” chant, imploring Camille engage in the Test of Strength. Cosworth shared a look and a shrug with the referee, then she stepped forward and locked her left with her opponent’s right.
“I’ll admit you’ve got some pretty sweet moves, but you’re in my world now…” Bianca said with a confident, challenging grin.
The pair of wrestlers interlaced the fingers on their free hands to complete the Test of Strength, and immediately it became apparent who spent three hours a day in the state-of-the-art FAWN weight room and who spent three hours a week floundering in the intermediate Zumba class at the local 24 Hour Fitness. Down on one knee before a fan in the front row could even finish screaming “KNEEL BEFORE ZOD!” and with Camille’s strength advantage now painfully obvious, Bianca tried to out-quick the Girl of Tomorrow by releasing one-half of the Test of Strength in order to double up her grip on Cosworth’s left arm and laying out on the canvas to toss the brunette up and over with an Arm Drag.
Unfortunately for Bianca, flipping through the air was second nature to Camille, and the brunette landed on her feet after a very pretty hands-free cartwheel. Still connected to her opponent by her arm, Cosworth gave a hard tug and ripped Simpson off the mat like a sack of potatoes and lifted the blonde into a Fireman’s Carry in one graceful motion. Camille spun towards the center of the ring and hupped her burden up and off of her shoulders before catching Bianca across the chest with one arm and driving the newcomer to the deck with a Sidewalk Slam to a thunderous pop from the audience.
FIREMAN’S CARRY SIDEWALK SLAM:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=daAqkUVl6Io
Simpson landed so hard that she bounced a good six inches off the canvas, turning over in midair before unceremoniously flopping onto her face and instinctively rolling out of the ring. With Camille seemingly in no rush to go for the kill out on the floor, Bianca stumbled over to the steel barricade and leaned heavily on it for support. At the edges of her mind, that spectre of self-doubt started to creep into her thoughts. She thought she had turned a corner against Kylie Sanders last month, putting in her most competitive effort and earning the support of the FAWNatics, but now it seemed she had taken two steps backwards. Not only was Bianca having traumatic flashbacks to getting manhandled by Dayna Ezra, but she had lost the hearts and minds of the people as well. Whereas before the fans had been eager to throw in their lot with Simpson when she had faced veritable hate-magnets such as Allison Addison, Elise Winterrest, or Kylie Sanders, Camille Cosworth was about as beloved as any wrestler in recent memory. While the fans didn’t shower Bianca with vitriol and treat her like a heel, they made it clearly known that for tonight at least, she was merely the latest obstacle to be overcome by the hero, and that didn’t sit well with the young blonde at all.
With a glint of manic desperation in her eyes, Simpson scrambled back into the ring and flung herself headlong at her opponent, her right arm outstretched for a Clothesline. Such a tactic was doomed to failure, as Camille laid out backwards on the mat to let Bianca’s arm whiff over her before kipping to her feet to another pop from the crowd as the rookie dashed past her. Simpson hit the ropes on the far side and rebounded back more determined than ever to land some offense and earn her Mania moment. Still presented with Cosworth’s back, she dove low and aimed her shoulders at the pits of the brunette’s knees.
The FAWNatics collectively inhaled as it seemed like the Girl of Tomorrow was moments away from having her legs cut out from under her, but whether it was the crowd noise or her burgeoning ring intuition or eyes in the back of her head, Camille knew the Chop Block was coming. With a graceful, nonchalant ease that belied the difficulty of the maneuver, Cosworth launched into a high-arcing backflip -- even throwing in a spectacular but wholly unnecessary 360-degree twist in midair, just because it was FAWNamania -- to somersault up and over the hapless blonde’s latest assault.
As always, Camille stuck the superhero landing, thumping to the deck in a dramatic three-point stance. Bianca simultaneously made her landing as well, though hers was decidedly less photogenic as inertia proved to be a harsh mistress after her missed Chop Block, causing her to face-plant before skidding three feet to the edge of the ring and suffering a wicked mat burn on her right cheek. Peals of derisive laughter rained from the stands as a crumpled up Simpson laid face-down with her rump propped up in the air, although that soon gave way to a rhythmic chant of “¡Olé!” when Cosworth rose to full height after her acrobatic matador act.
Camille spun around in a slow circle, grinning and saluting the adoring crowd, before she sidled over the to referee and asked, “We still doing okay on time, Merle?”
Merle directed her attention to the still laid out blonde with a flick of his head and sighed, “We’ve got time… but I think she’s had about enough already…”
Simpson was curled up in a fetal ball with her back facing the referee and the other wrestler, her shoulders heaving and shuddering in the unmistakable way of someone wracked with sobs. For a long, awkward moment, Camille simply watched, unsure of what was happening or what to do. It was only when the referee started counting Bianca down that the gears in her mind lurched into action, and she silently motioned for the man to pause before kneeling next to her opponent.
“Hey… are you alright?” Cosworth tentatively asked as she reached out to lay a hand on Simpson’s shoulder.
As soon as contact was made, Bianca snapped back to life. She rolled over and wildly lashed out with her arm, an action so abrupt and violent that it made Camille stumble backwards and fall onto her rear, a klutzy action from a woman who was normally anything but.
“Get away from me, you big, fat jerk!” Simpson screamed with bitter vehemence, an accusation to which her shocked opponent could only offer a wordless, unintelligible stutter.
“DON’T THINK YOU’RE GOING TO FOOL ME WITH THAT MISS CONGENIALITY ACT! YOU’RE A CONDESCENDING ASSHOLE JUST LIKE THE REST OF THEM!” Bianca continued to scream as she sat up on her haunches and pointed an accusing finger at the Girl of Tomorrow. “YOU’RE NOT OUT HERE TO GIVE SOMEONE A CHANCE AT A BIG MOMENT… YOU JUST WANT TO SHOW OFF AND PICK ON THE NEW GIRL! Y -- Y -- YOU AND YOUR SPINS…! AND YOUR FLIPS…! AND… AND… AND YOUR BAJILLION TWITTER FOLLOWERS A -- A -- A -- A -- AND YOUR FINGER GUNS AND YOUR BICYCLE RIDING…!”
The fans didn’t take too kindly to her lashing out and the sound of the entire arena booing washed over Bianca like an avalanche, the wall of noise drowning out the rest of her accusations, deflating her self-righteous indignation, and leaving only self-pity remaining in its wake. She sat back on her bottom, drew her knees to her chest, and started crying again, though much more softly than before.
Once the booing had subsided to a more reasonable volume, Simpson gestured to the jeering fans and woefully said through her sniffles, “Listen to them… they... they hate me. I didn’t do anything to deserve this. Just because I screw up the occasional Jenny-Cide, or Corkscrew 630 Senton, or Bodyslam doesn’t mean I don’t deserve respect, does it? Oh God, maybe dropping out of school and coming to FAWN was a terrible mistake… but… but… I just… I… I wanted to be YOU…”
Cosworth sucked in a sharp breath at that admission, suddenly feeling like her heart had dropped through the floor. She instinctively reached out to touch Bianca again and then stopped herself when the crestfallen blonde started talking once more.
“These people… they don’t care. They don’t care that I gave up my whole life to chase my dream here, or that I bust my ass in Zumba every other day, or that I’m getting better each match… All they care about is their precious Girl of Tomorrow. You’ve sucked all the oxygen out of the room and left nothing for the rest of us…”
Camille shot a pleading, desperate look at the referee, though Merle seemed just as clueless when he only shrugged in response. Deep down, she knew that Bianca’s accusations weren’t true. In fact, it was her helpfulness and desire to support her fellow up-and-comers -- even before she herself had become a mainstay at pay-per-view events -- that had first drawn the attention of the Church of Eternal Midnight. Nevertheless, Camille also knew how fickle the crowd was, and how devastating it could be for the fans to turn on a wrestler. Cosworth had been there when Dominique Daly had melted down after the FAWNatics had taken delight in her salacious humiliation at the hands and feet and elbows and knees and tongue of Yoona Park, and now it seemed like young Bianca was on the verge of a similar breakdown.
Determined to keep Simpson on the side of sugar and spice and everything nice, Camille took a seat next to her and wrapped an arm over her shoulders, Bianca noticeably stiffening at the contact but not pushing the other woman away. Cosworth held up a hand asking for more time when Merle silently mouthed “Are you still wrestling?” as she tried to think of the right thing to say, and a few moments later, her mouth stretched into a dopey grin as a light bulb went off in her head.
“Bianca, have you ever heard of the great Chinese warrior Li Shang?”
Simpson shook her head without looking up, and Camille continued, “Well, not only was he a warrior, he was a philosopher as well. One day, when he was training a spineless, pale, pathetic lot of misfits -- the saddest bunch he’d ever met, who didn’t have a clue -- he thought to himself ‘How could I make a man out --”
“OH SHIT! Ohshitohshitohshit! I understand this reference!” Merle enthusiastically blurted out, sounding rather proud of himself. “Hey, Camille! I didn’t even have to Google --”
The referee noticed the disapproving glare on Cosworth’s face, mouthing a silent “Sorry” as way of apology for interrupting the pep talk and gesturing for her to continue.
“So as I was saying, Bianca… those guys had to get down to business, because time was racing towards them till the Huns arrived --”
Camille was interrupted for a second time when Bianca raised her head for the first time in quite a while and mumbled, “Umm… I don't think I'm comfortable with the racial undertones this conversation is taking. It's 2017, is it even okay to say Huns anymore?”
Cosworth stared at the blonde in silent disbelief for a few seconds, opened her mouth to start to defend herself, then ultimately decided it wasn't worth the effort.
“You know what? Forget that part, it wasn't the point. The important thing is that Li Shang understood the mental and spiritual aspects are way more important than the physical. A true warrior is tranquil as a forest, but on fire within.”
Bianca turned her head towards the other wrestler and blinked in confusion a few times before saying, “That… that doesn’t make any sense. I mean you literally just contradicted yourself. How can you be simultaneously tranquil and on fire? Those are like the exact opposite --”
“Once you find your center, you are sure to win,” Cosworth continued as she blithely ignored the blonde’s protestations.
Simpson appeared to have an epiphany as a look of realization dawned on her face, and she said, “Ohhhh… I get it. This is one of those yin and yang things, isn’t it? Like the forest and the fire are opposite things that you need to balance!”
The Girl of Tomorrow nodded, pulled the rookie closer, and fiercely whispered, “You must be swift as the coursing river!”
“O -- okay!” Bianca stuttered, thought it was clear she was feeling better about herself by the second.
“With all the force of a great typhoon!”
“Right!”
“With all the force of a raging fire!”
“Yeah!”
“Mysterious as --”
“-- the dark side of the MOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!” Merle chimed in, unable to resist the urge to belt out the crescendo to the refrain.
Camille hung her head and pinched the bridge of her nose, miffed that the referee had stolen the best line from her, but it didn’t seem to bother Bianca at all. With her fighting spirit reignited, the blonde newbie popped to her feet with an enthusiastic yip, drawing a modest pop from the fans who were glad they were finally going to see some more action.
“You’re right! You’re AB-SO-LUTE-LY right!” she shouted. “I’ve been subconsciously holding back this whole time, but now I’m gonna show everyone how strong I really am! Bring it on, Camille!”
Cosworth flashed a grin and winked at her opponent as she rose to her feet, then she retrieved her motorcycle jacket from the corner and slipped it on. The sturdy leather and padding along the back and shoulders was meant to protect her in the event that she fall from her Kawasaki Ninja onto the asphalt, and she felt confident that it would protect her from what she was about to attempt. Once she had the heavy leather jacket zipped up all the way to the upturned collar, she gave a knowing nod to the referee, and then lunged at her opponent.
To Bianca, it seemed as if the Girl of Tomorrow was moving more slowly -- a fact that she attributed to her heightened senses, now that she was in tune with her warrior spirit -- and Simpson had time to pivot onto her left foot while shooting out her right leg in a Superkick at the brunette’s chin. She felt a jolt in her kicking leg and Cosworth backflipped head over heels before she flopped to the mat on her stomach, her lights apparently snuffed out in one blow from the new and improved Bianca.
SUPER DUPER KICK OF DOOM:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=06Waof3sz6s
All of a sudden, the entirely arena fell deathly quiet, unsure of what to make of Simpson’s newfound power. The referee was similarly flabbergasted as he looked back and forth between the two wrestlers, so surprised that he neglected to even start his ten-count. Of the tens of thousands of people in the building, the only person who wasn’t paralyzed with shock was Bianca herself, and she pumped her arms up and down trying to get a “YES!” chant going. Finally, after about ten seconds of dumbfounded silence, one adoring fan in the front row shouted her support for the blonde underdog.
“WAY TO GO, CHARLIE!”
Bianca cringed slightly and called back, “That’s not my name! But thanks anyway! It’s the thought that counts!”
As Simpson continued to pose and preen for the crowd, Merle finally got the wherewithal to kneel down and check on the fallen Girl of Tomorrow. Though the youngest and least tenured of FAWN’s referees, his instincts still told him something wasn’t right, so rather than start his count, he gently poked Camille in the forehead with his index finger. Cosworth’s body spasmodically shivered and twitched, and Merle gave a soft, exasperated sigh.
“Dawn of Justice was an underrated, misunderstood masterpiece. Truly the Citizen Kane of our time,” he said.
Immediately, Camille’s eyes snapped open while she propped herself up on one elbow and gushed, “Oh my God, yes. Yes. I’ve been saying that all along but no one believes me! There are layers there that you can’t appreciate until watching the Ultimate Edition at least three or four times. And Gal Gadot? Mmmm, so fine. When I’m in bed with Yoona, every now and then I close my eyes and --”
It quickly dawned on her that the official had tricked her and now the jig was up, then Camille pointed an accusing finger at Merle and hissed, “You didn’t even like Dawn of Justice, did you?!”
“Never even watched it,” Merle answered with a shrug. “I was really enjoying your story just now though. If you don’t mind telling me --”
Cosworth shoved the man aside as she climbed to her feet and called to her opponent, “That was a heck of a kick, Bianca. But I bet you can’t do it again!”
“Oh, I think I just might surprise you,” Simpson replied with a confident, knowing smirk. “I’m as mysterious as the dark side of the moon!”
Camille lunged again and Bianca shot the Superkick again, in a reprise of their clash from not even a minute ago. This time, however, Cosworth caught the incoming foot with one hand, holding it aloft for a moment as Simpson’s newly discovered bravado abandoned her just as suddenly. The color drained out of the rookie’s face and she started to plead for clemency, though before she could utter a single syllable, the Girl of Tomorrow gave the trapped limb such a hard toss to the side that not only was Bianca sent spinning around like a top, but thrown airborne as well. The ragdolled blonde twirled through the air in a spot-on, if unwilling, approximation of a Spinning Heel Kick which Cosworth allowed to hit her across the side of her neck before throwing herself to the deck once more.
SPINNING HEEL KICK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=wBOc6q-XCDQ
“Hhhhooo…. Hooooly shit…” Bianca muttered to no one in particular as she looked at her laid out opponent. “Did I do that...?!”
With the FAWNatics still seemingly in a state of shock, Simpson crawled over on hands and knees for the simple Crossbody pin, and Merle dropped down to pound out…
ONE…
TWO…
...before Camille crunched onto her shoulders and kipped to her feet with a great effort, now holding Bianca across her chest. She shifted her position to hoist Simpson up onto one shoulder in preparation for what looked to be a Running Powerslam, but then she purposefully loosened her grasps to allow the squirming blonde to slip out the back. As soon as Bianca’s boots hit the canvas, Camille reached behind herself to grab the newbie’s wrists and then brought Simpson’s arms together in front of her waist as if she were buckling a seatbelt. Having put herself in a snug Rear Waistlock, Cosworth took a deep breath and launched herself backwards.
The fans still remembered Bianca’s epic fail of a German Suplex attempt against the diminutive Kylie Sanders a month ago, and not privy to Camille’s clandestine efforts to make the newcomer look as good as possible, it came as quite a surprise to them when Bianca seemingly hoisted the Girl of Tomorrow up, over, and down for a thunderous German Suplex. It came as even more of a surprise when the pair of wrestlers got to their feet with the Waistlock still secured -- still powered by Cosworth’s efforts, unbeknownst to them -- and Simpson ripped off another German Suplex. And to the slack-jawed disbelief of everyone in the arena except for Camille, the interlocked duo struggled to their feet and completed the trifecta with a third consecutive German Suplex.
SUPLEX CITY:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=KEavoG6Sia8
The fans had been reluctant to get behind Bianca all night, but with Simpson having miraculously driven the bandwagon all the way to Suplex City, they were quick to hop aboard with a booming chant of “HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT!”
“What -- what the hell just happened?!” a wide-eyed Bianca panted as she clambered upright.
The referee did an admirable job of suppressing his urge to roll his eyes or shake his head, opting instead to direct her attention to the instant replay on the FAWNtron before going over to check on the splattered brunette. Camille was genuinely grimacing this time as she was slow to crawl to hands and knees, her motorcycle jacket dulling but not completely eliminating the hurt from the trio of self-inflicted German Suplexes.
Meanwhile, Bianca was jubilant and reveling in what she thought was her newfound power.
“WOOOOOOO!” she belted out, as a handful of fans joined in on her battlecry. “Don’t say I didn’t warn ya, Cammy! I told ya I was lighting it up in Zumba class, and now I’m kicking your ass and it feels like I’m not even trying!”
“Yeah… yeah I guess you are,” Cosworth said through a wince as she got upright. “That’s how you know things are starting to click. The moves just come naturally without you thinking about it…”
Flush with confidence, Bianca stormed forward for an Elbow and Collar tie up, which Camille readily accepted. After a few seconds of stalemate, Simpson decided that she wanted to try something else, so she gave her opponent a two handed shove to the shoulders to create some space. Once more, Cosworth threw herself backwards, landing on her shoulders before rolling over onto her stomach as if she had been blasted by a battering ram as an impressed “OOOOOHH” rumbled throughout the arena.
“YEAH, BABY! ALL THOSE PUSH-UPS ARE FINALLY STARTING TO PAY OFF!” Bianca shouted.
To demonstrate, she dropped to the mat and started powering out push-ups, getting up to eight before her form deteriorated as her arms began to quiver from the strain. Deciding that was enough for now, she got back to her feet, flexed her rather sore biceps, and surged forward towards her opponent. She managed to throw her right arm across Camille’s chest and neck with little resistance, but when Bianca tossed herself to the mat to try for the Reverse STO, Cosworth gave her a little extra boost by launching into a front somersault and dragging her along, transforming the move into a much more impressive looking Moonsault Side Slam.
MOONSAULT SIDE SLAM:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=6N7UprkIg1U
Unprepared for the full flip, Simpson flopped a bit awkwardly to the deck. She bounced up onto her haunches cradling her stomach, but then she saw the replay on the FAWNtron again.
“Jenny-Cide…?” she quietly murmured, not quite believing her eyes.
The audience had no such reservations though, and led by the young woman from earlier, they broke into a steady chant of “CHAR-LIE! CHAR-LIE! CHAR-LIE!” That finally seemed to convince Bianca that she wasn’t dreaming, and the sparkplug blonde popped to her feet, punched a fist high up overhead, and let loose another whooping battlecry.
“JENNY-CIIIIIIIIIDE!” she shrieked, before adding a moment later, “...and that’s still not my name, but that’s okay!”
A couple of feet away, Camille was hauling herself back up using Merle as support post, still conscious thanks only to the padding on her jacket. Nevertheless, the referee noticed the bedraggled look on Cosworth’s face, and he implored for her to stop.
“Cam, what the hell are you doing?! If you keep this up --”
Camille waved him off with one arm and replied, “You remember that scene from Billy Madison where some kid pees his pants, and Billy pretends to do the same so that the kid wouldn’t feel bad about it?”
“Umm, no. I have no idea --”
“What?! I thought you Googled it!”
“I only Googled that one scene you referenced last month! Why would you expect me to watch the whole movie?! That’s totally unreasonable --”
“Ugh, whatever,” Cosworth snorted derisively. “Anyway, the point is, any aches and pains I get from this will be gone in a few days. But her? She’ll freaking remember this for the rest of her life! What’s a few bumps and bruises compared to that?”
Merle considered this for a moment before he tentatively offered, “So… you’re peeing your pants?”
“.....I’m pretending to pee my pants.”
“Okay, fine, pretending to pee your pants. But your crotch will still be really wet and really uncomfortable!”
“You let me worry about my wet crotch, Merle. It’s not that uncomfortable and I think I know my way around a --”
“Umm, what the hell are you guys talking about?” Bianca interjected, a look of disgust on her face.
The referee and the other wrestler exchanged an awkward, stammering look and wordlessly came to an agreement to disavow that their conversation ever took place. Simpson directed a long, questioning glare at the fork of her opponent’s thighs, trying to spot any telltale stains, and once she was sure there weren’t any, she charged full speed ahead.
Camille saw her coming and took a deep breath to gather her reserves. Throwing herself into big bumps while in a hot, heavy motorcycle jacket and pants combo was draining her stamina far more quickly than normal, not to mention that she was literally wrestling for both of them. Nevertheless, she felt she had enough left in the tank for a few more crowd pleasers, and given it was FAWNamania, she was determined to pull out all the stops. As soon as Bianca got within grabbing distance, Cosworth looped a pair of strong arms around her waist, twirled her into the air, and held her belly-to-belly and upside down in a Tombstone Piledriver position.
With Simpson kicking and screaming, the Girl of Tomorrow walked to the center of the ring, but instead of dropping the blonde headfirst into the mat, she dug deep into her reserves and arched backwards until she felt Bianca’s boots touch down on the canvas. Bent over backwards now, Camille dug down deep into her reserves and pushed off with her toes, putting herself into the precarious Tombstone position.
She sensed that Bianca’s legs were already starting to shiver from the increased weight, so Cosworth kicked her legs and crunched her stomach, in effect forcing Simpson to bend over backwards to set up a second reversal of the Tombstone. Camille tightly cinched her arms together, and with a loud grunt, she managed to straighten her back and muscle her opponent off the mat once more. When she tried to bend over to set up a third reversal, however, that’s when her the muscles in her back finally cramped up after taking the abuse of three German Suplexes and a Jenny-Cide in short order. The Girl of Tomorrow stumbled, and it took all she had not to drop to her knees and drive Bianca’s skull into the deck. She maintained just enough control to flop forward to the mat, pancaking Simpson underneath her in what was a much softer landing for the blonde.
TILT-A-WHIRL TOMBSTONE AND REVERSALS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=QO_rO1GMkXo
As soon as they were safely on the ground, Camille pushed her upper torso off the ground with one hand, as the other desperately massaged her lower spine. She grimaced, and groaned, and totally forgot that Bianca was underneath her until she felt a series of frantic slaps on her left thigh, and a moment later the announcer proclaimed her the winner of the match by submission.
For once in the match, Camille was the one who didn’t know what was going on as she rolled aside and laid on her back, equal parts confused and exhausted. Just a couple of seconds later though, and Bianca was standing over her and pointing at her accusingly.
“You… you pervert!” Simpson snarled, her normally sweet tones sour and acrimonious. “Just because you were getting your ass kicked, doesn’t mean you have to pull a cheap move like that -- smothering me out with your filthy, wet crotch! So much for a warrior’s spirit!”
Cosworth turned her head to look at the FAWNtron, and sure enough, when she had fallen to the mat after the last failed Tombstone Reversal, Bianca’s nose and mouth had been inadvertently buried deep in her groin. The Girl of Tomorrow tried to stutter an apology, but her opponent was having none of it. Instead, Simpson demanded that Camille vacate the ring immediately, despite the longstanding tradition of losers ceding the stage to the victors. Cosworth was in no mood to argue the point though, so she merely sighed, wordlessly rolled out of the ring, and motioned for Merle to help her walk back to the changing area.
“Was it worth it, Camille?” the referee asked as the haggard wrestler draped an arm over his shoulders and began limping back up the entrance ramp.
“Wasn’t what I planned, but at least Bianca’s got her confidence back,” Camille groaned, still obviously in pain from her back cramps. “Hey, Merle?”
“Yeah?”
“Who’s doing Yoona’s match tonight?”
The referee sighed dejectedly as they continued to make their way up the ramp, Bianca in the center of the ring still trying to rally the crowd to her side, despite having victory so cheaply stolen from her.
“...I am.”
Camille considered this for a moment, and then softly said, “Look, I don’t want to tell you how to do your job, but, umm, don’t let her go too far tonight, okay?”
“Don’t worry about it, Camille. I’ll make sure to keep Adelaide under control and --”
“I wasn’t talking about Adelaide…” Cosworth muttered.
The two of them paused briefly as they shared a look and a nod, and then they pushed through the curtains at the top of the entrance ramp.
Truth be told, the FAWNatics didn’t need much prodding to cheer Camille Cosworth, and they raised the noise to triple-digits on the decibel meter when the woman in question strode through the curtains at the top of the entrance ramp. She was dressed in what appeared to be street clothes, with a red leather motorcycle jacket, matching pants, sneakers, and her latest officially licensed T-shirt bearing the slogan I DO MY OWN STUNTS. Instead of sprinting to the ring at top speed chased by a fireball, Camille took her time walking down the entrance ramp, brushing her hands against anyone and everyone who reached out to her while soaking in the adoration. Cosworth walked a lap around the squared circle to give high fives to the fans at ringside as well, then she walked up the steps to the apron and gracefully hurdled over the top rope to land in the center of the mat. She stretched an arm out to the side to summon a microphone, then deftly plucked it out of the air when it was thrown at her.
CAMILLE COSWORTH
“Wow… wooooooooow...” Camille laughed into the mic. “You know, I’ve been here for more than a year now, and there are still nights that I can’t believe any of this is real… But, umm, yeah… welcome to the big show, guys!”
More cheers from the crowd, and then a man in the front row called out, “I LOVE YOU, CAMMY!”
“I LOVE YOU TOO, RANDOM STRANGER!” Cosworth shouted back. “So anyway, I wanted to --”
“SHOW ME THE TITS OF TOMORROW!” the fan demanded, apparently deciding to push his luck after a generous helping of liquid courage.
There was a smattering of laughter, and even Camille seemed more bemused than offended as she cracked a wry grin and said, “Honestly, I’m kinda impressed. Gates have only been open for what? Forty five minutes? And you’ve already gotten sloshed on watered down, seven dollar per cup arena beer?! That kind of dedication is frickin’ amazing! Everyone give this man a round of applause!”
The other fans obliged in good humor while the intrepid cameramen and production team put his image on the FAWNtron, and that appeared to satisfy the rowdy drunk without Cosworth having to disrobe. He sat back in his seat having received his Mania moment, and after a few seconds the crowd quieted down, eager to hear what Camille had to say.
“Before I was the Girl of Tomorrow… before I signed onto FAWN… before I could even do a Shooting Star Press… I wanted to be one of you,” she said with a starry, wistful look in her eyes. “To sit in those seats… to cheer the heroes and boo the villains and just be amazed by the spectacle on the greatest stage of them all. There was nothing I wanted more than a trip to Orlando and a ticket to FAWNamania… seriously, guys, it was on my bucket list. I mean, come on, what kind of teenager has a bucket list, but honest to God I would’ve been happy being here just once in my life. To think I could be at Mania year after year after year… and that instead of watching the spectacle I could BE the spectacle… well, what can I say except ‘Thank you.’ Thank you for letting this wannabe get to be.”
Cosworth folded one arm across her stomach and the other behind her back, and then she bent over at the waist to give a deep, formal bow to the FAWNatics. In return, they serenaded her with a chant of “YOU DESERVE IT!” while she repeated the gesture towards each of the four sides of the building. Once that was done, Camille stood up straight and took a deep breath, then with a great deal of effort, she swallowed the lump in her throat before bringing the microphone to her lips again.
“So guys, I have good news and bad news. Bad news first -- I don’t have a match booked for Mania.”
The assembled fans groaned in disappointment, and Cosworth held up a hand to silence them as she offered an explanation.
“I had planned to fully dedicate myself to supporting Yoona at ringside tonight, as she had done for me a year ago. Or at least that was the plan until she insisted that I remain backstage, under pain of sleeping on the couch.”
A worried look flickered across Camille’s features as she thought of ordeals that her girlfriend had in store later in the evening, though she quickly forced a smile back onto her face, opting to compartmentalize and focus on the parts of FAWN that she loved versus the parts that she didn't.
“So now the good news -- I don’t have a match booked for Mania. That means I get to do whatever I want, and what I want is to pay it forward. Last year, I stood in this very ring and climbed the Dragon’s Gate to become the Girl of Tomorrow. This year, I want to help someone else do the same and find her place in FAWN. So here’s my offer: I’ll wrestle a match -- tonight, at the show of shows -- with the first person to answer my call. So regardless if you’re down here from the Jungle, or if you’re an indy wrestler sitting in the stands, or even if you’re just a dreamer looking for her big shot --”
“Ooh! Ooh! Me! Me me me me me! Pick me! Pick me!” someone called out loudly enough to be heard even without a microphone.
The Girl of Tomorrow craned her head around towards the direction where the voice had come from, and she saw a young blonde awkwardly coming down the entrance ramp. The newcomer was apparently in such a rush that she hadn’t even finished changing into her ring gear backstage, and now she was in the process of trying to put on her second boot while hopping along on one foot. She tried waving at Camille, but that turned out to be one action too many for her to multitask, and she ended up tripping and face-planting onto the steel walkway to a mix of groans and laughter from the audience. That seemed to convince her to slow down, and she took a seat on the ground and tightly laced up both her boots before making her way ringside.
BIANCA SIMPSON
Camille searched her memory for a name as she watched her would-be opponent roll into the ring underneath the bottom ropes, and with a bit of hesitation she asked, “...err… Bianca, right?”
The blonde’s eyes and mouth widened with shock as she stammered, “You know my name…! No one knows my name!”
Cosworth didn’t know what to say to that, so she shrugged her shoulders with a sheepish expression on her face.
“I send you messages on Twitter all the time, but you never respond!” Bianca continued to say. “I thought you’d --”
“Oh! Oh right… I, uhh, I stopped reading messages a while ago. It kinda got hard to keep up with all that once I hit a million followers, you know?”
Simpson sucked in a deep inhale of breath through her teeth as she tried to keep herself from visibly cringing. Her own Twitter account had recently passed the two hundred follower mark, a momentous occasion she was planning to commemorate with the finest non-alcoholic strawberry daiquiris that the local Applebee’s had to offer. Now, that milestone seemed less worthy of celebration, especially in light of the fact that perhaps a third of Bianca’s followers consistently mistook her for developmental darling Charlie Dawson instead.
She quickly shook off that wet blanket of self-doubt, however, and she dropped into a ready crouch and shouted at the Girl of Tomorrow, “Alright, let’s do this! I like you a lot, but don’t think that means I’m going easy on you!”
“Woah, wait a minute!” Camille said as she made a T-shape with her hands. “I’m not even dressed yet, and besides, there’s no ref --”
Cosworth cut herself off when she saw Merle jogging down the entrance ramp. She rolled her eyes and sighed, and as soon as the man slipped through the ropes she started pleading her case, but the official was having none of it.
“Sorry Camille, but we’re on a tight schedule. If you guys are gonna do this, you need to do this now,” he informed her, before adding with a knowing wink, “Oh, and by the way, I noticed that you used the stairs this time...”
Camille wordlessly scoffed, but she still acquiesced to the official’s demands as she slipped out of her jacket and hung it in one corner, leaving her dressed in her t-shirt, motorcycle pants, and sneakers. Across the ring, Bianca was more appropriately clothed in her standard red one piece along with white boots and pads at her elbows and knees. Ever the dutiful referee, Merle checked both women for weapons even knowing that he’d find nothing, and he signaled for the opening bell once he predictably came up empty.
The fans roared to life as the FAWNamania action officially got started, and the two wrestlers strode out to the center of the ring for a pre-match fist bump. Once the show of sportsmanship was done, Bianca twirled her fists in front of her face like an old-timey boxer, going back to the tactic that had let her briefly dominate the action against Kylie Sanders a month ago.
For her part, Camille made no move to engage and merely sized the blonde up with a curiously raised eyebrow. While fisticuffs weren’t really a staple of Cosworth’s arsenal, she had sparred with Yoona enough times to know what a top flight striker looked like, and Simpson didn’t fit the bill by any means. Even so, it was the biggest show of the year, so she decided to play along for the time being.
Camille held up her right hand in front of her face, then curled it into a finger gun with her index and middle digits forming the barrel. She wiped her left hand across the top of her right as if pulling back the slide on a pistol to check for a round in the chamber, then she gripped the bottom of her right hand and motioned as if to pull out the magazine. Chucking the imaginary clip over her shoulder, the Girl of Tomorrow retrieved a fresh one from her waistband and slammed her left palm into the bottom of her right hand to reload her finger gun. Finally, she racked the slide once more to load a bullet into the barrel, clicked her tongue to imitate that Kch-chk! sound, and --
“Geez, this is really elaborate!” Merle mused out loud, causing both women to stop what they were doing and stare at him in confusion. “I thought you would’ve just cocked your thumb like most people do, but you really went the extra mile with the realism and the onomatopeia!”
“Uhh… thanks, I guess…?” Camille offered, her gun transforming back into a hand as she absentmindedly rubbed the back of her neck. “I mean, I did grow up in a military family in Texas so it’s second nature to me, kinda like riding a bicycle or something...”
That only seemed to cause more confusion, as the other wrestler and the official exchanged a weird look before directing their gazes back to Cosworth.
“You grew up in Texas?!” Merle blurted out in disbelief. “Never would’ve guessed by your accent!”
“You know how to ride a bicycle?!” Bianca gushed with equal incredulity.
Slightly annoyed, Camille pinched the bridge of her nose and groaned, “Errr… c’mon guys… weren’t we on a tight schedule...?”
Suitably chastised, Merle silently stepped aside and motioned for the wrestlers to carry on. Simpson was quick to seize initiative as she stormed forward with her fists cocked, but she had telegraphed her intentions too clearly. The Girl of Tomorrow twisted sideways to avoid the wild Haymaker while she simultaneously reformed the finger gun on her right hand. Her blonde opponent was in the process of winding up for another punch when Camille pressed her fingertip barrel into Bianca’s stomach and fired off her One Inch Punch with a lightning quick twist of her hips.
The understated but explosive impact knocked Simpson back from whence she came, her spine smashing against the corner turnbuckles before she collapsed into a motionless heap on the mat. Just like that, the crowd’s energy deflated with a sympathetic ooh, and even Cosworth seemed a little remorseful that she had opened the match with the heavy artillery.
“Didn’t have to blow her away in two seconds… the schedule wasn’t that tight…” Merle muttered under his breath before he began his ten-count towards a knockout.
Fortunately, Bianca showed signs of life by “FIVE!” and with the help of the ropes she made it to her feet by a few seconds later to halt the count at “EIGHT!” She wasn’t fully recovered though, and as soon as she took a couple of steps towards the center of the ring, she collapsed back down to hands and knees and started dry heaving.
“Hnnnrrkk… bullets…! My only weakness…” Simpson gasped in between bouts of retching. “H -- How did you know…?!”
Camille chewed on her bottom lip to hold in a guffaw, as she wasn’t sure if the gutshot blonde was actually trying to make a joke in such a fraught situation. She didn’t do a good enough job of hiding her mirth, however, as a look of hurt and irritation briefly flashed across Bianca’s face as the rookie got off the mat again.
Once she had successfully suppressed her gag reflex, Simpson harrumphed indignantly and called out, “Hmmph! That was a pretty good shot, but one lucky hit isn’t going to keep me down! I’m the woman who almost beat Kylie Sanders!”
There was a smattering of chuckles and chortles from the ringside fans who were less than impressed with that last boast, though she paid them no mind and bellowed, “MAXIMUM EFFORT!”
Bianca shot towards the brunette as fast as her legs could carry her. Once she got within a couple of feet, she took to the air and aimed the soles of her boots at her opponent’s chest with a keening warcry. Simpson only got a modest height on her leap, but Camille was only average in height and for a moment it seemed as if her Dropkick was perfectly on target.
Unfortunately, whatever the Girl of Tomorrow lacked in size she more than made up for with freak-show athleticism, and after months of sharing a practice ring with Lily Burlingame at the Hellhole, poor Bianca practically moved in slow motion by comparison. Cosworth calmly sidestepped the incoming Dropkick, then she wrapped both of her arms around the blonde’s outstretched calves to pluck the rookie from the air. Before gravity could take hold of Simpson and pull her down to the mat, Camille started spinning in a tight circle, thus keeping Bianca airborne and earning a “HO-LY SHIT!” chant from the audience that progressively got faster and faster to keep pace with the quickening revolutions of the Giant Swing.
GIANT SWING:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=TTnvA3bLdKc
Simpson futilely flailed her arms and howled in terror as her world turned into a disorienting swirl of colors and lights. Even worse, the sheer force of the rotation was making all the blood in her body rush to her head, exacerbating her dizziness. She screamed that she was going to throw up, and Camille must have seen the nauseated look on her face because the Giant Swing promptly slowed to a stop. Once she had gently laid Bianca on the canvas, the Girl of Tomorrow quickly backpedaled to a safe distance as a precaution in the event of projectile vomiting. It turned out to be unnecessary, however, as Bianca provided incontrovertible proof that her stomach was empty by rolling to the edge of the ring and dry heaving for the second time in the span of a minute to further groans from the audience, her opponent, and even the referee.
Once her stomach had un-knotted itself, Simpson pounded a closed fist into the mat, clambered to her feet, and said to herself, “Alright, B… third time’s the charm. Show her what you got!”
Bianca raised her right arm up overhead and curled her hand into a claw, the universal invitation to lock up in a Test of Strength, though Camille went so far as to engage with a quizzically raised eyebrow.
“How do you like MY gun show, Camille?!” Simpson shouted as flexed and gave her right bicep a kiss before she raised her hand and twitched her fingers once more. “I’ve been doing twenty pushups a day… ten in the morning and ten at night!”
To the rookie’s surprise, that only seemed to make Cosworth more reluctant, and Bianca mentally noted with a great deal of satisfaction that the Girl of Tomorrow must have been intimidated by her display of firepower. The FAWNatics were under no such delusions, however, and they quickly started a “TEST… YOUR… MIGHT!” chant, imploring Camille engage in the Test of Strength. Cosworth shared a look and a shrug with the referee, then she stepped forward and locked her left with her opponent’s right.
“I’ll admit you’ve got some pretty sweet moves, but you’re in my world now…” Bianca said with a confident, challenging grin.
The pair of wrestlers interlaced the fingers on their free hands to complete the Test of Strength, and immediately it became apparent who spent three hours a day in the state-of-the-art FAWN weight room and who spent three hours a week floundering in the intermediate Zumba class at the local 24 Hour Fitness. Down on one knee before a fan in the front row could even finish screaming “KNEEL BEFORE ZOD!” and with Camille’s strength advantage now painfully obvious, Bianca tried to out-quick the Girl of Tomorrow by releasing one-half of the Test of Strength in order to double up her grip on Cosworth’s left arm and laying out on the canvas to toss the brunette up and over with an Arm Drag.
Unfortunately for Bianca, flipping through the air was second nature to Camille, and the brunette landed on her feet after a very pretty hands-free cartwheel. Still connected to her opponent by her arm, Cosworth gave a hard tug and ripped Simpson off the mat like a sack of potatoes and lifted the blonde into a Fireman’s Carry in one graceful motion. Camille spun towards the center of the ring and hupped her burden up and off of her shoulders before catching Bianca across the chest with one arm and driving the newcomer to the deck with a Sidewalk Slam to a thunderous pop from the audience.
FIREMAN’S CARRY SIDEWALK SLAM:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=daAqkUVl6Io
Simpson landed so hard that she bounced a good six inches off the canvas, turning over in midair before unceremoniously flopping onto her face and instinctively rolling out of the ring. With Camille seemingly in no rush to go for the kill out on the floor, Bianca stumbled over to the steel barricade and leaned heavily on it for support. At the edges of her mind, that spectre of self-doubt started to creep into her thoughts. She thought she had turned a corner against Kylie Sanders last month, putting in her most competitive effort and earning the support of the FAWNatics, but now it seemed she had taken two steps backwards. Not only was Bianca having traumatic flashbacks to getting manhandled by Dayna Ezra, but she had lost the hearts and minds of the people as well. Whereas before the fans had been eager to throw in their lot with Simpson when she had faced veritable hate-magnets such as Allison Addison, Elise Winterrest, or Kylie Sanders, Camille Cosworth was about as beloved as any wrestler in recent memory. While the fans didn’t shower Bianca with vitriol and treat her like a heel, they made it clearly known that for tonight at least, she was merely the latest obstacle to be overcome by the hero, and that didn’t sit well with the young blonde at all.
With a glint of manic desperation in her eyes, Simpson scrambled back into the ring and flung herself headlong at her opponent, her right arm outstretched for a Clothesline. Such a tactic was doomed to failure, as Camille laid out backwards on the mat to let Bianca’s arm whiff over her before kipping to her feet to another pop from the crowd as the rookie dashed past her. Simpson hit the ropes on the far side and rebounded back more determined than ever to land some offense and earn her Mania moment. Still presented with Cosworth’s back, she dove low and aimed her shoulders at the pits of the brunette’s knees.
The FAWNatics collectively inhaled as it seemed like the Girl of Tomorrow was moments away from having her legs cut out from under her, but whether it was the crowd noise or her burgeoning ring intuition or eyes in the back of her head, Camille knew the Chop Block was coming. With a graceful, nonchalant ease that belied the difficulty of the maneuver, Cosworth launched into a high-arcing backflip -- even throwing in a spectacular but wholly unnecessary 360-degree twist in midair, just because it was FAWNamania -- to somersault up and over the hapless blonde’s latest assault.
As always, Camille stuck the superhero landing, thumping to the deck in a dramatic three-point stance. Bianca simultaneously made her landing as well, though hers was decidedly less photogenic as inertia proved to be a harsh mistress after her missed Chop Block, causing her to face-plant before skidding three feet to the edge of the ring and suffering a wicked mat burn on her right cheek. Peals of derisive laughter rained from the stands as a crumpled up Simpson laid face-down with her rump propped up in the air, although that soon gave way to a rhythmic chant of “¡Olé!” when Cosworth rose to full height after her acrobatic matador act.
Camille spun around in a slow circle, grinning and saluting the adoring crowd, before she sidled over the to referee and asked, “We still doing okay on time, Merle?”
Merle directed her attention to the still laid out blonde with a flick of his head and sighed, “We’ve got time… but I think she’s had about enough already…”
Simpson was curled up in a fetal ball with her back facing the referee and the other wrestler, her shoulders heaving and shuddering in the unmistakable way of someone wracked with sobs. For a long, awkward moment, Camille simply watched, unsure of what was happening or what to do. It was only when the referee started counting Bianca down that the gears in her mind lurched into action, and she silently motioned for the man to pause before kneeling next to her opponent.
“Hey… are you alright?” Cosworth tentatively asked as she reached out to lay a hand on Simpson’s shoulder.
As soon as contact was made, Bianca snapped back to life. She rolled over and wildly lashed out with her arm, an action so abrupt and violent that it made Camille stumble backwards and fall onto her rear, a klutzy action from a woman who was normally anything but.
“Get away from me, you big, fat jerk!” Simpson screamed with bitter vehemence, an accusation to which her shocked opponent could only offer a wordless, unintelligible stutter.
“DON’T THINK YOU’RE GOING TO FOOL ME WITH THAT MISS CONGENIALITY ACT! YOU’RE A CONDESCENDING ASSHOLE JUST LIKE THE REST OF THEM!” Bianca continued to scream as she sat up on her haunches and pointed an accusing finger at the Girl of Tomorrow. “YOU’RE NOT OUT HERE TO GIVE SOMEONE A CHANCE AT A BIG MOMENT… YOU JUST WANT TO SHOW OFF AND PICK ON THE NEW GIRL! Y -- Y -- YOU AND YOUR SPINS…! AND YOUR FLIPS…! AND… AND… AND YOUR BAJILLION TWITTER FOLLOWERS A -- A -- A -- A -- AND YOUR FINGER GUNS AND YOUR BICYCLE RIDING…!”
The fans didn’t take too kindly to her lashing out and the sound of the entire arena booing washed over Bianca like an avalanche, the wall of noise drowning out the rest of her accusations, deflating her self-righteous indignation, and leaving only self-pity remaining in its wake. She sat back on her bottom, drew her knees to her chest, and started crying again, though much more softly than before.
Once the booing had subsided to a more reasonable volume, Simpson gestured to the jeering fans and woefully said through her sniffles, “Listen to them… they... they hate me. I didn’t do anything to deserve this. Just because I screw up the occasional Jenny-Cide, or Corkscrew 630 Senton, or Bodyslam doesn’t mean I don’t deserve respect, does it? Oh God, maybe dropping out of school and coming to FAWN was a terrible mistake… but… but… I just… I… I wanted to be YOU…”
Cosworth sucked in a sharp breath at that admission, suddenly feeling like her heart had dropped through the floor. She instinctively reached out to touch Bianca again and then stopped herself when the crestfallen blonde started talking once more.
“These people… they don’t care. They don’t care that I gave up my whole life to chase my dream here, or that I bust my ass in Zumba every other day, or that I’m getting better each match… All they care about is their precious Girl of Tomorrow. You’ve sucked all the oxygen out of the room and left nothing for the rest of us…”
Camille shot a pleading, desperate look at the referee, though Merle seemed just as clueless when he only shrugged in response. Deep down, she knew that Bianca’s accusations weren’t true. In fact, it was her helpfulness and desire to support her fellow up-and-comers -- even before she herself had become a mainstay at pay-per-view events -- that had first drawn the attention of the Church of Eternal Midnight. Nevertheless, Camille also knew how fickle the crowd was, and how devastating it could be for the fans to turn on a wrestler. Cosworth had been there when Dominique Daly had melted down after the FAWNatics had taken delight in her salacious humiliation at the hands and feet and elbows and knees and tongue of Yoona Park, and now it seemed like young Bianca was on the verge of a similar breakdown.
Determined to keep Simpson on the side of sugar and spice and everything nice, Camille took a seat next to her and wrapped an arm over her shoulders, Bianca noticeably stiffening at the contact but not pushing the other woman away. Cosworth held up a hand asking for more time when Merle silently mouthed “Are you still wrestling?” as she tried to think of the right thing to say, and a few moments later, her mouth stretched into a dopey grin as a light bulb went off in her head.
“Bianca, have you ever heard of the great Chinese warrior Li Shang?”
Simpson shook her head without looking up, and Camille continued, “Well, not only was he a warrior, he was a philosopher as well. One day, when he was training a spineless, pale, pathetic lot of misfits -- the saddest bunch he’d ever met, who didn’t have a clue -- he thought to himself ‘How could I make a man out --”
“OH SHIT! Ohshitohshitohshit! I understand this reference!” Merle enthusiastically blurted out, sounding rather proud of himself. “Hey, Camille! I didn’t even have to Google --”
The referee noticed the disapproving glare on Cosworth’s face, mouthing a silent “Sorry” as way of apology for interrupting the pep talk and gesturing for her to continue.
“So as I was saying, Bianca… those guys had to get down to business, because time was racing towards them till the Huns arrived --”
Camille was interrupted for a second time when Bianca raised her head for the first time in quite a while and mumbled, “Umm… I don't think I'm comfortable with the racial undertones this conversation is taking. It's 2017, is it even okay to say Huns anymore?”
Cosworth stared at the blonde in silent disbelief for a few seconds, opened her mouth to start to defend herself, then ultimately decided it wasn't worth the effort.
“You know what? Forget that part, it wasn't the point. The important thing is that Li Shang understood the mental and spiritual aspects are way more important than the physical. A true warrior is tranquil as a forest, but on fire within.”
Bianca turned her head towards the other wrestler and blinked in confusion a few times before saying, “That… that doesn’t make any sense. I mean you literally just contradicted yourself. How can you be simultaneously tranquil and on fire? Those are like the exact opposite --”
“Once you find your center, you are sure to win,” Cosworth continued as she blithely ignored the blonde’s protestations.
Simpson appeared to have an epiphany as a look of realization dawned on her face, and she said, “Ohhhh… I get it. This is one of those yin and yang things, isn’t it? Like the forest and the fire are opposite things that you need to balance!”
The Girl of Tomorrow nodded, pulled the rookie closer, and fiercely whispered, “You must be swift as the coursing river!”
“O -- okay!” Bianca stuttered, thought it was clear she was feeling better about herself by the second.
“With all the force of a great typhoon!”
“Right!”
“With all the force of a raging fire!”
“Yeah!”
“Mysterious as --”
“-- the dark side of the MOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!” Merle chimed in, unable to resist the urge to belt out the crescendo to the refrain.
Camille hung her head and pinched the bridge of her nose, miffed that the referee had stolen the best line from her, but it didn’t seem to bother Bianca at all. With her fighting spirit reignited, the blonde newbie popped to her feet with an enthusiastic yip, drawing a modest pop from the fans who were glad they were finally going to see some more action.
“You’re right! You’re AB-SO-LUTE-LY right!” she shouted. “I’ve been subconsciously holding back this whole time, but now I’m gonna show everyone how strong I really am! Bring it on, Camille!”
Cosworth flashed a grin and winked at her opponent as she rose to her feet, then she retrieved her motorcycle jacket from the corner and slipped it on. The sturdy leather and padding along the back and shoulders was meant to protect her in the event that she fall from her Kawasaki Ninja onto the asphalt, and she felt confident that it would protect her from what she was about to attempt. Once she had the heavy leather jacket zipped up all the way to the upturned collar, she gave a knowing nod to the referee, and then lunged at her opponent.
To Bianca, it seemed as if the Girl of Tomorrow was moving more slowly -- a fact that she attributed to her heightened senses, now that she was in tune with her warrior spirit -- and Simpson had time to pivot onto her left foot while shooting out her right leg in a Superkick at the brunette’s chin. She felt a jolt in her kicking leg and Cosworth backflipped head over heels before she flopped to the mat on her stomach, her lights apparently snuffed out in one blow from the new and improved Bianca.
SUPER DUPER KICK OF DOOM:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=06Waof3sz6s
All of a sudden, the entirely arena fell deathly quiet, unsure of what to make of Simpson’s newfound power. The referee was similarly flabbergasted as he looked back and forth between the two wrestlers, so surprised that he neglected to even start his ten-count. Of the tens of thousands of people in the building, the only person who wasn’t paralyzed with shock was Bianca herself, and she pumped her arms up and down trying to get a “YES!” chant going. Finally, after about ten seconds of dumbfounded silence, one adoring fan in the front row shouted her support for the blonde underdog.
“WAY TO GO, CHARLIE!”
Bianca cringed slightly and called back, “That’s not my name! But thanks anyway! It’s the thought that counts!”
As Simpson continued to pose and preen for the crowd, Merle finally got the wherewithal to kneel down and check on the fallen Girl of Tomorrow. Though the youngest and least tenured of FAWN’s referees, his instincts still told him something wasn’t right, so rather than start his count, he gently poked Camille in the forehead with his index finger. Cosworth’s body spasmodically shivered and twitched, and Merle gave a soft, exasperated sigh.
“Dawn of Justice was an underrated, misunderstood masterpiece. Truly the Citizen Kane of our time,” he said.
Immediately, Camille’s eyes snapped open while she propped herself up on one elbow and gushed, “Oh my God, yes. Yes. I’ve been saying that all along but no one believes me! There are layers there that you can’t appreciate until watching the Ultimate Edition at least three or four times. And Gal Gadot? Mmmm, so fine. When I’m in bed with Yoona, every now and then I close my eyes and --”
It quickly dawned on her that the official had tricked her and now the jig was up, then Camille pointed an accusing finger at Merle and hissed, “You didn’t even like Dawn of Justice, did you?!”
“Never even watched it,” Merle answered with a shrug. “I was really enjoying your story just now though. If you don’t mind telling me --”
Cosworth shoved the man aside as she climbed to her feet and called to her opponent, “That was a heck of a kick, Bianca. But I bet you can’t do it again!”
“Oh, I think I just might surprise you,” Simpson replied with a confident, knowing smirk. “I’m as mysterious as the dark side of the moon!”
Camille lunged again and Bianca shot the Superkick again, in a reprise of their clash from not even a minute ago. This time, however, Cosworth caught the incoming foot with one hand, holding it aloft for a moment as Simpson’s newly discovered bravado abandoned her just as suddenly. The color drained out of the rookie’s face and she started to plead for clemency, though before she could utter a single syllable, the Girl of Tomorrow gave the trapped limb such a hard toss to the side that not only was Bianca sent spinning around like a top, but thrown airborne as well. The ragdolled blonde twirled through the air in a spot-on, if unwilling, approximation of a Spinning Heel Kick which Cosworth allowed to hit her across the side of her neck before throwing herself to the deck once more.
SPINNING HEEL KICK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=wBOc6q-XCDQ
“Hhhhooo…. Hooooly shit…” Bianca muttered to no one in particular as she looked at her laid out opponent. “Did I do that...?!”
With the FAWNatics still seemingly in a state of shock, Simpson crawled over on hands and knees for the simple Crossbody pin, and Merle dropped down to pound out…
ONE…
TWO…
...before Camille crunched onto her shoulders and kipped to her feet with a great effort, now holding Bianca across her chest. She shifted her position to hoist Simpson up onto one shoulder in preparation for what looked to be a Running Powerslam, but then she purposefully loosened her grasps to allow the squirming blonde to slip out the back. As soon as Bianca’s boots hit the canvas, Camille reached behind herself to grab the newbie’s wrists and then brought Simpson’s arms together in front of her waist as if she were buckling a seatbelt. Having put herself in a snug Rear Waistlock, Cosworth took a deep breath and launched herself backwards.
The fans still remembered Bianca’s epic fail of a German Suplex attempt against the diminutive Kylie Sanders a month ago, and not privy to Camille’s clandestine efforts to make the newcomer look as good as possible, it came as quite a surprise to them when Bianca seemingly hoisted the Girl of Tomorrow up, over, and down for a thunderous German Suplex. It came as even more of a surprise when the pair of wrestlers got to their feet with the Waistlock still secured -- still powered by Cosworth’s efforts, unbeknownst to them -- and Simpson ripped off another German Suplex. And to the slack-jawed disbelief of everyone in the arena except for Camille, the interlocked duo struggled to their feet and completed the trifecta with a third consecutive German Suplex.
SUPLEX CITY:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=KEavoG6Sia8
The fans had been reluctant to get behind Bianca all night, but with Simpson having miraculously driven the bandwagon all the way to Suplex City, they were quick to hop aboard with a booming chant of “HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT!”
“What -- what the hell just happened?!” a wide-eyed Bianca panted as she clambered upright.
The referee did an admirable job of suppressing his urge to roll his eyes or shake his head, opting instead to direct her attention to the instant replay on the FAWNtron before going over to check on the splattered brunette. Camille was genuinely grimacing this time as she was slow to crawl to hands and knees, her motorcycle jacket dulling but not completely eliminating the hurt from the trio of self-inflicted German Suplexes.
Meanwhile, Bianca was jubilant and reveling in what she thought was her newfound power.
“WOOOOOOO!” she belted out, as a handful of fans joined in on her battlecry. “Don’t say I didn’t warn ya, Cammy! I told ya I was lighting it up in Zumba class, and now I’m kicking your ass and it feels like I’m not even trying!”
“Yeah… yeah I guess you are,” Cosworth said through a wince as she got upright. “That’s how you know things are starting to click. The moves just come naturally without you thinking about it…”
Flush with confidence, Bianca stormed forward for an Elbow and Collar tie up, which Camille readily accepted. After a few seconds of stalemate, Simpson decided that she wanted to try something else, so she gave her opponent a two handed shove to the shoulders to create some space. Once more, Cosworth threw herself backwards, landing on her shoulders before rolling over onto her stomach as if she had been blasted by a battering ram as an impressed “OOOOOHH” rumbled throughout the arena.
“YEAH, BABY! ALL THOSE PUSH-UPS ARE FINALLY STARTING TO PAY OFF!” Bianca shouted.
To demonstrate, she dropped to the mat and started powering out push-ups, getting up to eight before her form deteriorated as her arms began to quiver from the strain. Deciding that was enough for now, she got back to her feet, flexed her rather sore biceps, and surged forward towards her opponent. She managed to throw her right arm across Camille’s chest and neck with little resistance, but when Bianca tossed herself to the mat to try for the Reverse STO, Cosworth gave her a little extra boost by launching into a front somersault and dragging her along, transforming the move into a much more impressive looking Moonsault Side Slam.
MOONSAULT SIDE SLAM:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=6N7UprkIg1U
Unprepared for the full flip, Simpson flopped a bit awkwardly to the deck. She bounced up onto her haunches cradling her stomach, but then she saw the replay on the FAWNtron again.
“Jenny-Cide…?” she quietly murmured, not quite believing her eyes.
The audience had no such reservations though, and led by the young woman from earlier, they broke into a steady chant of “CHAR-LIE! CHAR-LIE! CHAR-LIE!” That finally seemed to convince Bianca that she wasn’t dreaming, and the sparkplug blonde popped to her feet, punched a fist high up overhead, and let loose another whooping battlecry.
“JENNY-CIIIIIIIIIDE!” she shrieked, before adding a moment later, “...and that’s still not my name, but that’s okay!”
A couple of feet away, Camille was hauling herself back up using Merle as support post, still conscious thanks only to the padding on her jacket. Nevertheless, the referee noticed the bedraggled look on Cosworth’s face, and he implored for her to stop.
“Cam, what the hell are you doing?! If you keep this up --”
Camille waved him off with one arm and replied, “You remember that scene from Billy Madison where some kid pees his pants, and Billy pretends to do the same so that the kid wouldn’t feel bad about it?”
“Umm, no. I have no idea --”
“What?! I thought you Googled it!”
“I only Googled that one scene you referenced last month! Why would you expect me to watch the whole movie?! That’s totally unreasonable --”
“Ugh, whatever,” Cosworth snorted derisively. “Anyway, the point is, any aches and pains I get from this will be gone in a few days. But her? She’ll freaking remember this for the rest of her life! What’s a few bumps and bruises compared to that?”
Merle considered this for a moment before he tentatively offered, “So… you’re peeing your pants?”
“.....I’m pretending to pee my pants.”
“Okay, fine, pretending to pee your pants. But your crotch will still be really wet and really uncomfortable!”
“You let me worry about my wet crotch, Merle. It’s not that uncomfortable and I think I know my way around a --”
“Umm, what the hell are you guys talking about?” Bianca interjected, a look of disgust on her face.
The referee and the other wrestler exchanged an awkward, stammering look and wordlessly came to an agreement to disavow that their conversation ever took place. Simpson directed a long, questioning glare at the fork of her opponent’s thighs, trying to spot any telltale stains, and once she was sure there weren’t any, she charged full speed ahead.
Camille saw her coming and took a deep breath to gather her reserves. Throwing herself into big bumps while in a hot, heavy motorcycle jacket and pants combo was draining her stamina far more quickly than normal, not to mention that she was literally wrestling for both of them. Nevertheless, she felt she had enough left in the tank for a few more crowd pleasers, and given it was FAWNamania, she was determined to pull out all the stops. As soon as Bianca got within grabbing distance, Cosworth looped a pair of strong arms around her waist, twirled her into the air, and held her belly-to-belly and upside down in a Tombstone Piledriver position.
With Simpson kicking and screaming, the Girl of Tomorrow walked to the center of the ring, but instead of dropping the blonde headfirst into the mat, she dug deep into her reserves and arched backwards until she felt Bianca’s boots touch down on the canvas. Bent over backwards now, Camille dug down deep into her reserves and pushed off with her toes, putting herself into the precarious Tombstone position.
She sensed that Bianca’s legs were already starting to shiver from the increased weight, so Cosworth kicked her legs and crunched her stomach, in effect forcing Simpson to bend over backwards to set up a second reversal of the Tombstone. Camille tightly cinched her arms together, and with a loud grunt, she managed to straighten her back and muscle her opponent off the mat once more. When she tried to bend over to set up a third reversal, however, that’s when her the muscles in her back finally cramped up after taking the abuse of three German Suplexes and a Jenny-Cide in short order. The Girl of Tomorrow stumbled, and it took all she had not to drop to her knees and drive Bianca’s skull into the deck. She maintained just enough control to flop forward to the mat, pancaking Simpson underneath her in what was a much softer landing for the blonde.
TILT-A-WHIRL TOMBSTONE AND REVERSALS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=QO_rO1GMkXo
As soon as they were safely on the ground, Camille pushed her upper torso off the ground with one hand, as the other desperately massaged her lower spine. She grimaced, and groaned, and totally forgot that Bianca was underneath her until she felt a series of frantic slaps on her left thigh, and a moment later the announcer proclaimed her the winner of the match by submission.
For once in the match, Camille was the one who didn’t know what was going on as she rolled aside and laid on her back, equal parts confused and exhausted. Just a couple of seconds later though, and Bianca was standing over her and pointing at her accusingly.
“You… you pervert!” Simpson snarled, her normally sweet tones sour and acrimonious. “Just because you were getting your ass kicked, doesn’t mean you have to pull a cheap move like that -- smothering me out with your filthy, wet crotch! So much for a warrior’s spirit!”
Cosworth turned her head to look at the FAWNtron, and sure enough, when she had fallen to the mat after the last failed Tombstone Reversal, Bianca’s nose and mouth had been inadvertently buried deep in her groin. The Girl of Tomorrow tried to stutter an apology, but her opponent was having none of it. Instead, Simpson demanded that Camille vacate the ring immediately, despite the longstanding tradition of losers ceding the stage to the victors. Cosworth was in no mood to argue the point though, so she merely sighed, wordlessly rolled out of the ring, and motioned for Merle to help her walk back to the changing area.
“Was it worth it, Camille?” the referee asked as the haggard wrestler draped an arm over his shoulders and began limping back up the entrance ramp.
“Wasn’t what I planned, but at least Bianca’s got her confidence back,” Camille groaned, still obviously in pain from her back cramps. “Hey, Merle?”
“Yeah?”
“Who’s doing Yoona’s match tonight?”
The referee sighed dejectedly as they continued to make their way up the ramp, Bianca in the center of the ring still trying to rally the crowd to her side, despite having victory so cheaply stolen from her.
“...I am.”
Camille considered this for a moment, and then softly said, “Look, I don’t want to tell you how to do your job, but, umm, don’t let her go too far tonight, okay?”
“Don’t worry about it, Camille. I’ll make sure to keep Adelaide under control and --”
“I wasn’t talking about Adelaide…” Cosworth muttered.
The two of them paused briefly as they shared a look and a nod, and then they pushed through the curtains at the top of the entrance ramp.