Post by dsb on Dec 31, 2017 18:26:15 GMT
Da Man has a way of getting what he wants, but so apparently does Jasmine Washington’s partner, at least when the time is right. Apparently the time is now.
Trisha Belle has the entire roster lining up around the block to get at her, each woman understanding she’s only three seconds against a clearly injured champion from the IC title.
Somehow, it’s FAWN’s most hated that gets her partner’s name on the dotted line.
J-Dogg’s heart beats a mile a minute, the badass from Hotlanta trying to contain the butterflies that come with her first title match.
Trisha Belle is far from a ‘Company woman’ and maybe that’s why Chill’s negotiations to have her step in and answer the Mauler’s challenge for competition was answered in the affirmative.
Whatever the reason, Washington stares deeply into the hazel eyes of her partner, Sanders’ palms on Jazzy’s shoulders, urging her colleague to chill the f out.
JASMINE WASHINGTON
KYLIE SANDERS
“Get to her knee and pummel it,” Kylie says. “Relentless. You have to be relentless. Nail her there again and again until she can’t respond then you clean up what’s left.”
Jasmine grunts in agreement, one ear peeled for her entrance accompaniment.
“Tonight, you become Intercontinental Champion,” Ky continues. “And there isn’t a better feeling in the world then having a belt and sticking it in the face of Da Man and all his little minions.”
Ky snorts in disgust at the thought of Orlando’s great unwashed.
“Little creeps. If they start calling me a troll tonight, I swear to God…”
“HEY,” Jasmine interrupts. “ME!”
Kylie breaks out of her rant in the making and turns her attention back to Jazzy.
“You’re right. You.”
A soft melodic hip-hop flows through the arena bowl and, while the crowd’s collective gaze turns to the upper stage, backstage Sanders grins at her protégé and partner.
“Time to show everyone, including that so-called Mauler what a bytch from the G-A can do.”
Wash smiles and heads for the curtain, bursting through with the Hawkeye quickly behind, their appearance and the sounds of Washington’s anthem ‘That’s Me Right There’ from the coincidentally named Jasmine V, turning the crowd sour immediately.
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8tEyAAniu5U&index=36&list=PLFgquLnL59anjMBFmfztjKvngIUN1F987 )
The African-American dazzler moves to center stage, the crowd momentarily mesmerized by the action of Jasmine’s hips and booty, before the realization FAWN’s traitorous blonde is her sister-in-arms; that fact turning the volume of the jeers to jet-engine levels.
With their manager, Demetria Andrews apparently busy elsewhere, it’s up to the elfin blonde to scream at the multitudes to give Jasmine her due. They only heap further disdain on Hot&Bothered, tossing less than complimentary remarks at the turncoat and her new ally.
Starting down the ramp and aisle, J-Dogg flashes signs and shakes dat ass, Washington leading the ‘hate parade’. Dressed in a tiny black hoodie, (black version of the following: i2.photobucket.com/albums/y32/biggerb/Jasmine-clothing.jpg~original ), the grappler snaps her head back to clear the hood and her shoulder-length ebony locks behind. She waggles her way down the aisle as if she owns the place, her face pinching with disgust when shying away from the extended hands of the crowd.
Beneath the woman wears camo boy-cut trunks (http://s2.photobucket.com/user/biggerb/media/Jasmine-clothing%20below.jpg.html ) which accentuate her bootylicious backside all the more. Below are black pads and boots.
Behind the rookie, Sanders has a microphone in one and her ever present Louis Vuitton clutch handbag in the other. The former fan favorite wears a tight sparkly, red Vuitton dress that leaves plenty of ivory leg visible.
Reaching the ring, Wash hops to the apron and swishes her rump from side to side. Kylie, having joined her on the canvas after a trip up the steps, sits on the middle cable and pushes the top up for her partner. Jasmine slips through as her music fades and the ring announcer makes her arrival an official one.
“Tonight’s next match is scheduled for one fall with a time limit of 30 minutes and is for FAWN’s Intercontinental Championship.”
With the challenger moving to mid-ring, Chill slips through the cables and joins J-Dogg.
“First, the challenger, accompanied by Vanilla Chill, Kylie Sanders, standing five feet and five inches tall, weighing in at 125 pounds, from Atlanta to the G-A, the Badass from Hotlanta…Jasmine Washington.”
The FAWNatics bury the twosome in boos and it only grows louder when the platinum blonde brings the microphone to her lips.
“Ain’t no woman on one leg or two can deal the bite of a rabid J-Dogg,” Kylie assures the jeering crowd. Ky turns toward the upper stage.
“Minnesota Nice! You get Da Man to wrap that knee up good-n-tight and fill you full of painkillers. I’m tellin’ you right now, you leavin’ with one less working wheel and one less championship belt. Get yo ass down here!”
Sanders drops the mic to the canvas with a ‘CLUNK’ and guides Washington to her corner, both sets of eyes trained for the champion’s arrival.
After a short moment of tension, The Heavy's "Oh No, Not You Again" starts blaring over the sound system and the IC champ steps out through the curtain with confidence, mic in hand, signaling that the Minnesota Mauler is ready to retort before the match. As she emerges, she's greeted with something new to her, the ENTIRE arena of FAWNatics cheer the champ, some even stand for her entrance, showing they'd much rather have Belle retain the belt instead of Kylie or Jasmine take it from her.
TRISHA BELLE
Trisha seems rather well, even with her knee still wrapped, her limp is all but gone, having taken a month off of competition. Belle makes a cut motion and her music stops. However, the crowd continues to cheer, and even starts up a chant in support of the Minnesota Mauler. "Ring her, Belle! Ring her, Belle! Ring her, Belle!"
Trisha smiles deviously, giving the crowd a moment as she stares down Jasmine and Kylie, walking confidently down the ramp as she makes another cutting motion to stop the crowd's chant as she raises the mic to her lips. "You sure talk tough when you're throwing your little protege into the line of fire. We'll see how tough you feel when you have to scrape Jasmine here off the mat tonight, because yes, the rumors are true, the higher ups here at FAWN forced me to stay off the card at last month's Pay-Per-View, but I told them I'd be DAMNED if they were going to vacate MY title. We both stuck to our positions, so we had to come to an agreement. By this very night, I had to pass a physical exam focused on my leg to the satisfaction of FAWN medics. Well, I'm standing here tonight, and Jasmine is standing there, so I guess the results are pretty obvious. Bad news for Jasmine, I'm close to 100% again, and I could have laid her out if I was at 25%." Trisha rolls into the ring and takes her corner. "So, I'm ready when you are, Jasmine."
Belle tosses the mic to a stagehand and takes her corner, letting the ref pat her down and the announcer finish formalities.
"And defending her title tonight, standing at 5'9" and weighing in at 150 pounds, hailing from Minneapolis Minnesota, your Intercontinental Champion, The Minnesota Mauler, TRISHA BEEEELLE!"
The crowd once again starts up with a loud pop, then starts chanting again, showing their full support of the champ early on.
Giving up a few inches and more than a few pounds, J-Dogg is a bit tentative out of her corner when the bell tolls the match to order. The brace on Trisha’s left leg and the Pay-Per-View off seem to have mended the creaky wheel, but the Bad Ass from Hotlanta has the instructions from her partner ringing in her head.
Rotating around the confines, Washington goes low and swipes for possession of Belle’s left leg, but comes up empty when the champ pivots and moves it out of reach. The Minnesota Mauler reaches for Jasmine’s noggin but her foe ducks low enough Trisha also finds herself without a piece of her opponent. The women reset and seem ready to come together in a collar-and-elbow when J-Dogg slips under Trisha’s grasp and sneaks behind her, snatching the brunette in a waistlock. She tries to lift and deposit the bigger grappler, but Belle drops into a crouch and anchors her boot soles to the canvas.
Jasmine cinches the bearhug as she leans over Trisha, who’s bent at the waist to make her center of gravity lower. The champ reaches over her left shoulder and finds Wash’s head. She drops to one knee snap-maring Jazzy over a shoulder, Washington testing the cushion in her trunk as she lands on her backside. Wincing, she pushes to her feet and spins to face Belle who grins and motions for Jasmine to come to her.
Outside, Kylie claps encouragingly not affected by the champ’s show of strength. Chill winks at her Dogg and Washington nods in return. She gets on her horse and circles at a quicker pace, leaving Belle in the middle rotating to keep the African-American grappler up front. Picking her moment, Jasmine shoots a kick at the braced joint but Belle picks off the effort, catching Jasmine’s leg around the ankle and lifting the limb high, forcing Jazzy to hop on her left. Trisha sweeps her right leg through Jasmine’s remaining planted stem and knocks her flat to the canvas, still in possession of her foe’s right leg.
Placing the sole of her right boot on Jasmine’s left ankle, Trisha lays out to her left shoulder and forces Wash into a painful set of splits that immediately test the groin muscles of the Badass. They’re left wonting, as Jazzy sits up, yelping in pain, grasping at both inner thighs, her legs nearly at 180 degrees. When a beaming Trisha releases, Washington reflexively curls into a fetal ball, hands deep between her legs.
“Not going to be moving around so much for a while are you?” Belle asks as she pushes to her feet and collects a grimacing Jasmine by the head. “Let me help.”
Trisha tugs Jasmine to her feet and moves her grip to a wrist. She Irish whips Wash to the ropes and is ready for the semi-waddling Washington on her return, sweeping a clothesline at the collarbone of the rebounding Badass. Jasmine ducks under the malicious swing and toddles to the next set of ropes. Far from full speed, J-Dogg returns from the opposite cables and is levelled by a left-arm clothesline when the champ pivots and shows she’s ambidextrous, knocking the smaller Washington to the deck, the back of Sanders’ tag partner THUMPING into the deck.
Trisha turns to the platinum blonde as she hovers over a flattened Jasmine.
“Thanks for the appetizer, Kylie. If you care to give me a full meal, come on in.”
Vanilla Chill lives up to her name, keeping her hazel eyes trained on her protégé, not wanting to show any trepidation when it comes to the big brunette.
“That’s right,” Belle continues. “Keep your mouth shut. Iowegian.”
Trisha turns her attention back to Wash, who’s made it to a seated position. She THUMPS a soccer kick between Jazzy’s shoulderblades. Washingon’s chest lurches forward as her back arches in pain from the impact. Convinced by the boot it’s time to get up, J-Dogg pushes to her feet and turns to face her foe, only to be met with a delving toe kick to the café-au-lait-hued belly of the Badass. Trisha follows with a raised knee between the eyes of Jasmine’s lowered noggin and Washington staggers in reverse to a neutral corner behind her.
Hitting the buckles and remaining upright, Jasmine gives Belle her cue and the Mauler heads for the opposite corner, spinning and charging the reeling challenger. From a few feet out, the destroyer-class brunette launches. It’s not a rafter-scraping leap, but the splash is definitely felt by the Dogg as she’s buried under the brunette in an avalanche of ivory-skinned Belle.
Trisha sweeps the rocked Wash by with a swing of her right arm and catches up with Jasmine a few steps later, closing from behind and encircling Washington’s braincase with a side headlock as she zooms by. The trip is only a couple further steps, as the champ sits out and bulldogs Jasmine into the deck with a ring-rattling display that draws an ‘oooh’ from the crowd and a turned head from Kylie.
Trisha sits next to the face down Jazzy, shaking her head, again looking at Sanders and shouting “This is what you’ve got”. She shoves the battered Badass to her back and nonchalantly covers with an arm over the chest of the shaken Dogg for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Jasmine kicks her way free from the lackadaisical effort, throwing a shoulder up and rolling to her side then her chest, making sure Trisha couldn’t cover again in a more emphatic fashion and get the extra slap on the canvas.
Unaffected by coming up short on the pin attempt, the dominating Belle quickly takes advantage of Washington’s positioning. She scrambles to a crouching, forward-facing straddle of Jasmine’s back and, one by one, posts the African-American beauty’s arms over each bent knee. Lacing her fingers, she cups them under the chin of the challenger and draaaws back J-Dogg’s head, neck and backbone, curling the spinal column of her foe viciously with a camel clutch that has Washington’s welled eyes staring at the ceiling.
Her chest thrust forward, pressing tightly to the spandex covering, Jasmine grunts out a stifled ‘no’ when the official asks if she wants to quit, which only prompts the Mauler to live up to her name and force Jasmine’s spine into an even more pronounced arch. On the sidelines, Kylie pleads then demands her Dogg escape. Belle, who’s barely broken a sweat, puckers at the elfin blonde in response. She unlocks her fingers and batters Sanders’ partner with a clubbing forearm before disdainfully shoving Jasmine’s face into the deck with a two-hand shove from behind.
Trisha dismounts and, while Jasmine grasps at her aching back, she takes a stroll by Wash’s corner. She sits on the middle rope, pushes up the top and invites Kylie in. Sanders hops to the apron and jaws at the champion instead, finally reaching over the ropes and paintbrushing a slap across Trisha’s cheek.
The ref scolds Ky and directs her back to the floor, but quickly realizes he has to grab Belle around the midriff from having her head to the outside and beat the hell out of the Hawkeye.
As the official restrains the Mauler from doing just that, a risen Jasmine NAILS Belle from behind, throwing a nasty clip into the pit of Trisha’s left knee. The bigger brunette drops to the balled joint, howling. The zebra turns to admonish J-Dogg, but the ‘Hot’ of Hot&Bothered is more interested in pulling Trisha away from the ropes. Once center stage, Jasmine collects Belle’s left leg folding it at the aching joint, and launching the champ into the air. Washington genuflects and sends Trisha’s shin crashing into the bony ball of her knee with a Shinbreaker.
Shinbreaker (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y3bZFSbYBcU )
The Minnesota native hops away on her good leg, settling in a neutral corner, while a relieved Kylie tries to applaud over the noise of the grumbling FAWNatics then implores Jasmine to get after the injured titleholder.
Belle shows why she's the champion, lunging out of the corner as best she can with her sore knee. Washington charges toward the hopping Minnesotan, but the champ shows her prowess with a discus clothesline that aims to decapitate Jasmine. The Minnesotan's forearm slams into J-Dogg's collar, stopping her momentum cold and planting her on the canvas. Washington's is left glassy-eyed and mouth wide as she coughs and sputters from the impact.
Trisha doesn't give her a chance to collect herself. The Minnesota Mauler grabs a fistful of Jasmine's hair and slams Washington's head to the canvas, skull hitting the mat 3 times in quick succession, leaving J-Dogg's eyes rolling in a daze. Belle then hooks the smaller girl's leg for the pin, but before the ref can even slide in to make the count, Kylie pops up onto the apron and interjects.
"What the hell, ref? You're just going to let her get away with that kind of shit? Hair isn't an illegal hold anymore?!"
The ref falls for the distraction tactic and confronts Sanders, trying to convince her to avoid interfering. Trisha just rolls her eyes as she realizes the count isn't happening and drops Washington's leg to the canvas. She stands up, scoffs at Kylie's interference, rolling her shoulders and neck for a second then charging, shouting out "HEADS UP!"
The ref proves to be more aware than most FAWN officials and spins to see Belle charging and, surprising everyone, he sidesteps the Minnesotan. Unfortunately for Kylie this means Trisha comes charging full speed into her, slamming a clothesline into the blonde's neck and sending her falling off the apron and tumbling to the floor at ringside.
The FAWNatics let the Pleasant Valley Pariah know what they think of her. She lies on the floor, a chant of "You deserved that!" punctuated with a series of claps before another round of "You deserved that!" roll over her. All the while, Kylie's hand clutches at her back as she takes a few breaths through clenched teeth.
Trisha turns to the slightly spooked ref and says, "Problem solved. Shall we?" with a gesture toward Jasmine, still lying on the canvas. And with that, Belle goes for the pin once more.
"ONE!"
"TWO!"
"TH-NOOO!"
Washington rolls a shoulder up meekly. Trisha doesn't even protest, instead just saying, "Bad move, Jasmine" as she grabs J-Dogg by the hair and drags her up to continue the match.
As Washington rises at Trisha’s direction, the months of tagging with Sanders and learning from FAWN’s most infamous traitor pay dividends for Jasmine when she reflexively shoots a set of nails to Belle’s baby blues, raking across them.
The champ shrieks in pain, turning away from the wobbly Washington. Trisha rubs vigorously at her peepers, the eyes red and teary from the abuse.
Knowing she’s bought a chance to stem and turn the tide, J-Dogg trails after the retreating Mauler and throws her entire body into a chop block to the back of Trisha’s left knee, trying her best to make the lower limb useless for the rest of the match; something Belle would have to drag behind her. Trisha drops to the knee in shooting pain, grasping at the braced joint, cursing the Hot of Hot&Bothered.
Peeking over the apron as she climbs toward vertical on the arena floor, Kylie’s raspy voice shows her support in less than forgiving terms, angrily demanding the African-American grappler cripple Trisha. J-Dogg nods enthusiastically as her senses and thoughts continue to coalesce, the aftereffects of the debilitating faceplants courtesy of Belle slowly dissipating.
Jazzy sends a couple stomps into the cap of Belle’s knee despite Trisha’s best efforts to shade her left side away from attack. The brunette clambers to her feet despite the abuse, the brace giving her the necessary stability to ignore the pounding to a degree.
Trisha grasps the top rope with her right hand and demands the official keep the challenger back. Not surprisingly, Jasmine isn’t interested in da man’s ‘advice’. Wash drives a soccer kick into the back of Belle’s knee, this one lifting the left limb forward like a pendulum, Trisha only remaining upright via her planted right leg and her grasp of the rubber-coated steel cable.
The ref, having had enough, grabs Jasmine around her café-au-lait-skinned waist and pushes her away from the injured Minnesotan. As he makes clear such violent shenanigans won’t be tolerated going forward, Sanders climbs to the apron and grabs Trisha’s noggin from behind. Kylie draws the back of Belle’s neck across the uppermost cable with a couple handfuls of dark locks then drops to the floor, reverse hotshotting the Intercontinental champion.
Belle lurches forward from the flagrant but unseen interference, falling into the clutches of the Hawkeye’s waiting teammate. Jasmine wraps her arms around the abs of the rickety Mauler and launches her up and over.
Northern Lights Suplex (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HvQPd3nU5ek )
Washington shows her increasing skills with a beautiful bridge on the back end of the Northern Lights Suplex, pinning the bigger brunette to the canvas for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Trisha kicks free emphatically, sending J-Dogg rolling away, Jasmine then hopping to her feet. While the third slap wasn’t particularly close, Belle remains matbound, wincing as she stares into the rafters from her horizontal position.
The Badass from Hotlanta skips over the splayed Trisha and runs to the ropes, hitting them in a handstand. Bouncing away from the cables, Jazzy shows her athletic prowess, backflipping when her boot soles return to the canvas. She finally splashes across the open tummy of her foe, forcing the champion to jackknife around the impact, Trisha rising in a ‘V’ shape around Jasmine.
Springboard Shining Star Press (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UXCSfYogBRc ) @ 4:35
Washington pivots to make her pin a full body effort and she stays planted atop the splattered Belle for…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Again Trisha shoves Jasmine off convincingly, though the effort comes much closer to the third slap than the last.
Dismayed by the Mauler’s continued show of strength, Kylie hides her disappointment, pumping her fist in support toward her partner even as most in the crowd cheer for Belle’s escape. Sanders clearly mouths ‘KNEE’ to Washington. The relative newcomer nods to the FAWN original and returns her attention to the champion, Belle having made it to all fours.
Moving quickly, Jasmine hovers above Trisha in a standing, backward-facing straddle then drops her less-than-secret weapon into the base of the Minnesotan’s spine. The butt bump flattens Trisha to the deck and instantly Jazzy collects her foe’s left ankle. Lifting and pulling back on the limb, Jasmine works at a single-leg Boston Crab, determined to shred some ligaments despite the supportive gear Belle employs to keep her wheel intact.
The official plants on all fours in front of Trisha and asks if she wants to give. Her response is an attempt to ’paint’ his face with a palm. Slowly but surely, the bigger brunette tugs her way toward the safety of the ropes, taking J-Dogg for the ride. Realizing she can’t control the tenacious Trisha, Jasmine rises from her crouch, spins in a 180 with continued possession of the vital limb and THROWS the left leg at the deck, Belle’s knee THUMPING into the thinly-covered plywood.
Trisha yelps in pain and tucks the stem close to her body. Understanding on the mat at the feet of her foe is no place for her to remain, she snatches the bottom rope and tugs herself out of the ring, landing on her right foot and hobbling out of range after pushing off the apron’s edge. She catches herself on the steel barricade separating the FAWNatics from the eventual victor and vanquished.
Instead of heading out to join the champ and get her back in the ring, Jasmine strides to the official to discuss current events, all the while turning his head away from the environs of the recovering Trisha.
A certain platinum blonde, hated near and far in the FAWNiverse, is not turning her head and beats her feet around the corner to get a bead on the brunette. Hazel eyes focused on Belle, Kylie times her charge as best she can with both Trisha’s and the ref’s eyes averted. She sprints the dozen feet or so to her target with right arm drawn to clothesline Trisha to the cement floor from the side.
However, the rats in the audience give the former Corps leader away before she can lower the mini-boom. Tipped off, Belle dips and presses her palms into the front of Kylie’s thighs and, when the bigger brunette straightens, she vaults a bugeyed Sanders high, back body dropping the elfin blonde into the laps of the front row.
The lucky fans get a heaping helping of FAWN’s most hated. Though she’s cushioned by the crowd, Sanders angrily squirms within the mass of humanity, wildly uncomfortable with her intimate proximity to her haters.
As the blonde struggles to get out of Grabbytown, Trisha turns her attention to Washington, who in turn brings her conversation with the referee to an end, Kylie’s gambit having failed.
Jasmine moves to the ropes near the champ and beckons Belle in from above, knowing very well she can’t win the belt on the outside.
“Get yo pasty ass in here, saltine,” Washington shouts. “Ain’t no amount of hidin’ gonna save you.”
Jasmine cockily leans over the top rope beckoning the champ to come back into the ring. Trisha does what she does best and tries for a cheap shot, jumping up to grab J-Dogg by the hair and pull her down across the top rope. However, Washington sees this coming and moves just in time to leave Trisha grasping at air.
"Nah-uh, Snowflake, bring your ass in her for a proper, FAWN approved whuppin.'" she teases Belle more, trying to get into her head. Trisha just waves to the ref, "Make sure she doesn't take a cheap shot while I get in. Do your fucking job for once." she chides the official. The ref does what he's told and steps between the women, even lifting the bottom rope slightly with a foot as Trisha rolls back in. But Jasmine does exactly what Trisha predicted anyway, pushing the ref aside before stomping a boot to the Minnesotan's navel, then throwing a series of kicks and stomps to the wrapped knee to keep on the injury.
The ref steps in again and pulls Washington back. "Fucking USELESS!" Trisha yells in pain and frustration to the seemingly powerless official.
J-Dogg gets right back at the champ, dragging Belle to her feet and forcing her to the corner to throw her face into the turnbuckle. Washington kicks the champ's leg out, bringing Trisha to one knee with a howl.
Jasmine puts a possessive hand atop the crown of Trisha’s head.
“Da Man ain’t got no hold on me,” Washington shouts to the crowd, Kylie backing her partner up with a knowing nod. “And this bytch ain’t got but one leg to stand on.”
Jazzy quickly finds out she has at least one working arm however, Belle shooting a forearm blast between the African-American grappler’s thighs. Jasmine’s and even Kylie’s face twist in pain, Washington rising to tiptoes from the impact, hands burying in her crotch as she painfully pivots and starts waddling away from the champion.
Trisha rises to her feet with the help of the ropes and limps after the retreating Washington, the toll in the title match making itself obvious. It’s a momentary race to see who is in worse shape. While the Mauler’s might be more long-lasting, she catches J-Dogg from behind, snaking her arms around Jasmine’s noggin in a grip designed to cut off blood at the carotid and press against Washington’s temples.
The challenger flails as best she can considering the throbbing pain from below, but it’s a weak effort at best, particularly when Belle has height and weight advantages. Belle leans her body into the sleeper, forcing Jasmine to carry much of her mass. Washington’s ebony stems quake from the effort as she shuffles toward a pleading call from Sanders to make the corner for a break.
Wash staggers forward, likely knowing if she goes down to her knees she won’t be getting up as champion. Jazzy drunkenly wobbles her way to the buckles falling into them, her arms leaden and her eyes glazed. Washington doesn’t have enough in her to demand a break, so Kylie makes sure to put in her two cents, screaming for Da Man’s boy to do his job.
The ref gives the elfin blonde a sour look and delays his count a couple seconds before acceding to the Hawkeye’s wishes, Belle slipping her enveloping arms from around Jasmine’s braincase at ‘FOUR’.
Trisha doesn’t back off however. Instead, she spins the dumbfounded J-Dogg to face her and grabs her foe’s raven locks around the ears. Holding the bobbling head still, she shoots her forehead forward and butts Wash between the eyes, one, two, three times going Around the Clock on the increasingly senseless challenger.
The Mauler pulls back and reviews the wreckage. Satisfied Jasmine barely knows where she is, she shoves Washington by, Jazzy stumbling a few steps toward the center before a dipping Belle swings an arm between the challenger’s legs from behind and launches J-Dogg off the canvas and across her shoulders in an upturned fireman’s carry.
A wincing Trisha takes a couple steps with her cargo in the Torture Rack, the brutal bend in Jasmine’s backbone already waking Wash from her stupor, when Belle’s left knee, even with the brace in place, can’t sustain the extra weight forced upon it. To her credit, it’s a controlled drop by the Mauler, sustaining her fight against the pain long enough to deliver a thumping inverted Samoan Drop, J-Dogg landing on her face and chest with incredible force.
As Trisha grips at her aching knee from a seated position, her legs extended, Kylie yells at her partner to evacuate. Jasmine’s able to lift her head and stare longingly at Sanders, only a few feet away, but every part of her body below the neck seems turned off. Given the time, Trisha tightens her brace, spins and crawls to the splayed Washington.
Going off script to save her leg where possible, Trisha settles in a perpendicular position next to Jasmine’s head and surrounds the noggin with a vicious crossface grip, wrenching back with her considerable might to force J-Dogg to bark out her submission.
Crossface (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sqirMXsa6tE ) @ 00:03
The ref gets in the face of the groaning challenger, asking Washington if she wants to surrender. On the outside, Kylie’s head is in her hands and she looks through the ‘cage’ of her fingers.
“NO QUITTING,” she shouts with blind hope before lifting the apron skirt next to her and surreptitiously collecting a steel chair to weaponize if the opportunity arises.
Despite Kylie's protests, J-Dogg's hand hovers just above the canvas, Washington obviously considering a submission over the painful crossface, but the FAWNatics don't get to see her tap, because as Trisha leans into the hold and even jerks the smaller girl's neck and head back and forth in her grip, and as Jasmine's spine curves back painfully, Washington's stamina fails her as she passes out in the now well practiced crossface of the IC champ.
Jasmine's hand falls limp to the mat, a soft whimper and moan showing she's done putting up any sort of fight. But just as the ref lifts J-Dogg's wrist to check for the knockout, Kylie chimes in with a shrill "Rope break!"
Trisha and the official both turn their heads dubiously, but they both find Kylie frantically pointing at Jasmine's right boot, the toe limply laid atop the bottom rope. The crowd lets out a loud series of boos and jeers, most likely because they saw Sanders PLACE Washington's toe on the rope, but the ref and Belle can't assume that sort of deceipt without witnessing it, so the official sheepishly says, "You'll have to break the hold, Trisha."
The Minnesota Mauler just sighs, "Fine. Doesn't really change anything. This girl is done no matter how you look at her."
Trisha then rolls toward center ring, dragging the limp Jasmine with her, eventually adjusting their positions until the girl from Hotlanta is sitting helplessly in her lap.
Then, Belle J-Dogg up, her good leg wrapping around Jasmine's waist as tight as she can manage, then she puts Washington's head back and into the crook of her arm, locking her up in an unnecessary, but satisfying dragon sleeper, squeezing and twisting the hold to see if Jasmine has any fight left in her. But, according to her limp arms and errant twitches from her fingers, she is completely finished.
It’s already a foregone conclusion, but the ref closes in to make it official, lifting Jasmine's wrist and letting it fall
"ONE."
"TWO"
"THREE"
He calls for the bell and the announcement as Trisha gives a few more harsh jerks in the hold before dropping J-Dogg unceremoniously to the canvas.
"Your winner and STILL Intercontinental Champion, TRISHA BELLE!"
The crowd roars with approval as Trisha is helped up by the ref and her hand is raised. She plants a dominant boot on Jasmine's chest.
Outside, Kylie’s right palm is on her forehead as Trisha drags her partner’s carcass to the middle for the anticlimactic coupe de grace. Her opposite set of fingers clench in a white-knuckled grip of the lowered steel chair next to her side.
“You want something done…” Kylie mumbles and she slides under the bottom rope in Trisha’s blindside with her weapon in tow while the Mauler gets her Gladiatrix money shot over a heeled J-Dogg.
Aiming the top rim of the seat back, FAWN’s most hated draws the metal back, slides in on one knee to get low, and RAMS the steel into the pit of Trisha’s already injured knee. Belle drops to the joint, howling in pain. She doesn’t have to deal with the agony long, as Kylie rises, lifts the chair overhead, and brings the thick seat pan down across the lowered skull of the bigger brunette, the impact landing with a sickening, metallic THWANK.
Trisha timbers lifelessly to the canvas, on Dream Street before she hits the deck.
Al snatches the chair away from a furious, ranting Sanders but the damage is done. The platinum blonde hovers over what’s left of Trisha, out cold in a spreadeagle at the Hawkeye’s feet.
“Doesn’t look like you’ll be mauling anyone for a long time, does it?”
Ky turns her attention to the crowd.
“Bytch won a battle, but no one wins the war with Hot&Bothered!” she shouts to the jeering FAWNatics.
The elfin blonde moves to Jasmine, still snoozing, and lightly taps her partner’s cheek to bring Washington back to conciousness.
“Don’t you worry,” Kylie says to a still uncomprehending Jasmine. “You started the job. I’ll finish it.”
Trisha Belle has the entire roster lining up around the block to get at her, each woman understanding she’s only three seconds against a clearly injured champion from the IC title.
Somehow, it’s FAWN’s most hated that gets her partner’s name on the dotted line.
J-Dogg’s heart beats a mile a minute, the badass from Hotlanta trying to contain the butterflies that come with her first title match.
Trisha Belle is far from a ‘Company woman’ and maybe that’s why Chill’s negotiations to have her step in and answer the Mauler’s challenge for competition was answered in the affirmative.
Whatever the reason, Washington stares deeply into the hazel eyes of her partner, Sanders’ palms on Jazzy’s shoulders, urging her colleague to chill the f out.
JASMINE WASHINGTON
KYLIE SANDERS
“Get to her knee and pummel it,” Kylie says. “Relentless. You have to be relentless. Nail her there again and again until she can’t respond then you clean up what’s left.”
Jasmine grunts in agreement, one ear peeled for her entrance accompaniment.
“Tonight, you become Intercontinental Champion,” Ky continues. “And there isn’t a better feeling in the world then having a belt and sticking it in the face of Da Man and all his little minions.”
Ky snorts in disgust at the thought of Orlando’s great unwashed.
“Little creeps. If they start calling me a troll tonight, I swear to God…”
“HEY,” Jasmine interrupts. “ME!”
Kylie breaks out of her rant in the making and turns her attention back to Jazzy.
“You’re right. You.”
A soft melodic hip-hop flows through the arena bowl and, while the crowd’s collective gaze turns to the upper stage, backstage Sanders grins at her protégé and partner.
“Time to show everyone, including that so-called Mauler what a bytch from the G-A can do.”
Wash smiles and heads for the curtain, bursting through with the Hawkeye quickly behind, their appearance and the sounds of Washington’s anthem ‘That’s Me Right There’ from the coincidentally named Jasmine V, turning the crowd sour immediately.
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8tEyAAniu5U&index=36&list=PLFgquLnL59anjMBFmfztjKvngIUN1F987 )
The African-American dazzler moves to center stage, the crowd momentarily mesmerized by the action of Jasmine’s hips and booty, before the realization FAWN’s traitorous blonde is her sister-in-arms; that fact turning the volume of the jeers to jet-engine levels.
With their manager, Demetria Andrews apparently busy elsewhere, it’s up to the elfin blonde to scream at the multitudes to give Jasmine her due. They only heap further disdain on Hot&Bothered, tossing less than complimentary remarks at the turncoat and her new ally.
Starting down the ramp and aisle, J-Dogg flashes signs and shakes dat ass, Washington leading the ‘hate parade’. Dressed in a tiny black hoodie, (black version of the following: i2.photobucket.com/albums/y32/biggerb/Jasmine-clothing.jpg~original ), the grappler snaps her head back to clear the hood and her shoulder-length ebony locks behind. She waggles her way down the aisle as if she owns the place, her face pinching with disgust when shying away from the extended hands of the crowd.
Beneath the woman wears camo boy-cut trunks (http://s2.photobucket.com/user/biggerb/media/Jasmine-clothing%20below.jpg.html ) which accentuate her bootylicious backside all the more. Below are black pads and boots.
Behind the rookie, Sanders has a microphone in one and her ever present Louis Vuitton clutch handbag in the other. The former fan favorite wears a tight sparkly, red Vuitton dress that leaves plenty of ivory leg visible.
Reaching the ring, Wash hops to the apron and swishes her rump from side to side. Kylie, having joined her on the canvas after a trip up the steps, sits on the middle cable and pushes the top up for her partner. Jasmine slips through as her music fades and the ring announcer makes her arrival an official one.
“Tonight’s next match is scheduled for one fall with a time limit of 30 minutes and is for FAWN’s Intercontinental Championship.”
With the challenger moving to mid-ring, Chill slips through the cables and joins J-Dogg.
“First, the challenger, accompanied by Vanilla Chill, Kylie Sanders, standing five feet and five inches tall, weighing in at 125 pounds, from Atlanta to the G-A, the Badass from Hotlanta…Jasmine Washington.”
The FAWNatics bury the twosome in boos and it only grows louder when the platinum blonde brings the microphone to her lips.
“Ain’t no woman on one leg or two can deal the bite of a rabid J-Dogg,” Kylie assures the jeering crowd. Ky turns toward the upper stage.
“Minnesota Nice! You get Da Man to wrap that knee up good-n-tight and fill you full of painkillers. I’m tellin’ you right now, you leavin’ with one less working wheel and one less championship belt. Get yo ass down here!”
Sanders drops the mic to the canvas with a ‘CLUNK’ and guides Washington to her corner, both sets of eyes trained for the champion’s arrival.
After a short moment of tension, The Heavy's "Oh No, Not You Again" starts blaring over the sound system and the IC champ steps out through the curtain with confidence, mic in hand, signaling that the Minnesota Mauler is ready to retort before the match. As she emerges, she's greeted with something new to her, the ENTIRE arena of FAWNatics cheer the champ, some even stand for her entrance, showing they'd much rather have Belle retain the belt instead of Kylie or Jasmine take it from her.
TRISHA BELLE
Trisha seems rather well, even with her knee still wrapped, her limp is all but gone, having taken a month off of competition. Belle makes a cut motion and her music stops. However, the crowd continues to cheer, and even starts up a chant in support of the Minnesota Mauler. "Ring her, Belle! Ring her, Belle! Ring her, Belle!"
Trisha smiles deviously, giving the crowd a moment as she stares down Jasmine and Kylie, walking confidently down the ramp as she makes another cutting motion to stop the crowd's chant as she raises the mic to her lips. "You sure talk tough when you're throwing your little protege into the line of fire. We'll see how tough you feel when you have to scrape Jasmine here off the mat tonight, because yes, the rumors are true, the higher ups here at FAWN forced me to stay off the card at last month's Pay-Per-View, but I told them I'd be DAMNED if they were going to vacate MY title. We both stuck to our positions, so we had to come to an agreement. By this very night, I had to pass a physical exam focused on my leg to the satisfaction of FAWN medics. Well, I'm standing here tonight, and Jasmine is standing there, so I guess the results are pretty obvious. Bad news for Jasmine, I'm close to 100% again, and I could have laid her out if I was at 25%." Trisha rolls into the ring and takes her corner. "So, I'm ready when you are, Jasmine."
Belle tosses the mic to a stagehand and takes her corner, letting the ref pat her down and the announcer finish formalities.
"And defending her title tonight, standing at 5'9" and weighing in at 150 pounds, hailing from Minneapolis Minnesota, your Intercontinental Champion, The Minnesota Mauler, TRISHA BEEEELLE!"
The crowd once again starts up with a loud pop, then starts chanting again, showing their full support of the champ early on.
Giving up a few inches and more than a few pounds, J-Dogg is a bit tentative out of her corner when the bell tolls the match to order. The brace on Trisha’s left leg and the Pay-Per-View off seem to have mended the creaky wheel, but the Bad Ass from Hotlanta has the instructions from her partner ringing in her head.
Rotating around the confines, Washington goes low and swipes for possession of Belle’s left leg, but comes up empty when the champ pivots and moves it out of reach. The Minnesota Mauler reaches for Jasmine’s noggin but her foe ducks low enough Trisha also finds herself without a piece of her opponent. The women reset and seem ready to come together in a collar-and-elbow when J-Dogg slips under Trisha’s grasp and sneaks behind her, snatching the brunette in a waistlock. She tries to lift and deposit the bigger grappler, but Belle drops into a crouch and anchors her boot soles to the canvas.
Jasmine cinches the bearhug as she leans over Trisha, who’s bent at the waist to make her center of gravity lower. The champ reaches over her left shoulder and finds Wash’s head. She drops to one knee snap-maring Jazzy over a shoulder, Washington testing the cushion in her trunk as she lands on her backside. Wincing, she pushes to her feet and spins to face Belle who grins and motions for Jasmine to come to her.
Outside, Kylie claps encouragingly not affected by the champ’s show of strength. Chill winks at her Dogg and Washington nods in return. She gets on her horse and circles at a quicker pace, leaving Belle in the middle rotating to keep the African-American grappler up front. Picking her moment, Jasmine shoots a kick at the braced joint but Belle picks off the effort, catching Jasmine’s leg around the ankle and lifting the limb high, forcing Jazzy to hop on her left. Trisha sweeps her right leg through Jasmine’s remaining planted stem and knocks her flat to the canvas, still in possession of her foe’s right leg.
Placing the sole of her right boot on Jasmine’s left ankle, Trisha lays out to her left shoulder and forces Wash into a painful set of splits that immediately test the groin muscles of the Badass. They’re left wonting, as Jazzy sits up, yelping in pain, grasping at both inner thighs, her legs nearly at 180 degrees. When a beaming Trisha releases, Washington reflexively curls into a fetal ball, hands deep between her legs.
“Not going to be moving around so much for a while are you?” Belle asks as she pushes to her feet and collects a grimacing Jasmine by the head. “Let me help.”
Trisha tugs Jasmine to her feet and moves her grip to a wrist. She Irish whips Wash to the ropes and is ready for the semi-waddling Washington on her return, sweeping a clothesline at the collarbone of the rebounding Badass. Jasmine ducks under the malicious swing and toddles to the next set of ropes. Far from full speed, J-Dogg returns from the opposite cables and is levelled by a left-arm clothesline when the champ pivots and shows she’s ambidextrous, knocking the smaller Washington to the deck, the back of Sanders’ tag partner THUMPING into the deck.
Trisha turns to the platinum blonde as she hovers over a flattened Jasmine.
“Thanks for the appetizer, Kylie. If you care to give me a full meal, come on in.”
Vanilla Chill lives up to her name, keeping her hazel eyes trained on her protégé, not wanting to show any trepidation when it comes to the big brunette.
“That’s right,” Belle continues. “Keep your mouth shut. Iowegian.”
Trisha turns her attention back to Wash, who’s made it to a seated position. She THUMPS a soccer kick between Jazzy’s shoulderblades. Washingon’s chest lurches forward as her back arches in pain from the impact. Convinced by the boot it’s time to get up, J-Dogg pushes to her feet and turns to face her foe, only to be met with a delving toe kick to the café-au-lait-hued belly of the Badass. Trisha follows with a raised knee between the eyes of Jasmine’s lowered noggin and Washington staggers in reverse to a neutral corner behind her.
Hitting the buckles and remaining upright, Jasmine gives Belle her cue and the Mauler heads for the opposite corner, spinning and charging the reeling challenger. From a few feet out, the destroyer-class brunette launches. It’s not a rafter-scraping leap, but the splash is definitely felt by the Dogg as she’s buried under the brunette in an avalanche of ivory-skinned Belle.
Trisha sweeps the rocked Wash by with a swing of her right arm and catches up with Jasmine a few steps later, closing from behind and encircling Washington’s braincase with a side headlock as she zooms by. The trip is only a couple further steps, as the champ sits out and bulldogs Jasmine into the deck with a ring-rattling display that draws an ‘oooh’ from the crowd and a turned head from Kylie.
Trisha sits next to the face down Jazzy, shaking her head, again looking at Sanders and shouting “This is what you’ve got”. She shoves the battered Badass to her back and nonchalantly covers with an arm over the chest of the shaken Dogg for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Jasmine kicks her way free from the lackadaisical effort, throwing a shoulder up and rolling to her side then her chest, making sure Trisha couldn’t cover again in a more emphatic fashion and get the extra slap on the canvas.
Unaffected by coming up short on the pin attempt, the dominating Belle quickly takes advantage of Washington’s positioning. She scrambles to a crouching, forward-facing straddle of Jasmine’s back and, one by one, posts the African-American beauty’s arms over each bent knee. Lacing her fingers, she cups them under the chin of the challenger and draaaws back J-Dogg’s head, neck and backbone, curling the spinal column of her foe viciously with a camel clutch that has Washington’s welled eyes staring at the ceiling.
Her chest thrust forward, pressing tightly to the spandex covering, Jasmine grunts out a stifled ‘no’ when the official asks if she wants to quit, which only prompts the Mauler to live up to her name and force Jasmine’s spine into an even more pronounced arch. On the sidelines, Kylie pleads then demands her Dogg escape. Belle, who’s barely broken a sweat, puckers at the elfin blonde in response. She unlocks her fingers and batters Sanders’ partner with a clubbing forearm before disdainfully shoving Jasmine’s face into the deck with a two-hand shove from behind.
Trisha dismounts and, while Jasmine grasps at her aching back, she takes a stroll by Wash’s corner. She sits on the middle rope, pushes up the top and invites Kylie in. Sanders hops to the apron and jaws at the champion instead, finally reaching over the ropes and paintbrushing a slap across Trisha’s cheek.
The ref scolds Ky and directs her back to the floor, but quickly realizes he has to grab Belle around the midriff from having her head to the outside and beat the hell out of the Hawkeye.
As the official restrains the Mauler from doing just that, a risen Jasmine NAILS Belle from behind, throwing a nasty clip into the pit of Trisha’s left knee. The bigger brunette drops to the balled joint, howling. The zebra turns to admonish J-Dogg, but the ‘Hot’ of Hot&Bothered is more interested in pulling Trisha away from the ropes. Once center stage, Jasmine collects Belle’s left leg folding it at the aching joint, and launching the champ into the air. Washington genuflects and sends Trisha’s shin crashing into the bony ball of her knee with a Shinbreaker.
Shinbreaker (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y3bZFSbYBcU )
The Minnesota native hops away on her good leg, settling in a neutral corner, while a relieved Kylie tries to applaud over the noise of the grumbling FAWNatics then implores Jasmine to get after the injured titleholder.
Belle shows why she's the champion, lunging out of the corner as best she can with her sore knee. Washington charges toward the hopping Minnesotan, but the champ shows her prowess with a discus clothesline that aims to decapitate Jasmine. The Minnesotan's forearm slams into J-Dogg's collar, stopping her momentum cold and planting her on the canvas. Washington's is left glassy-eyed and mouth wide as she coughs and sputters from the impact.
Trisha doesn't give her a chance to collect herself. The Minnesota Mauler grabs a fistful of Jasmine's hair and slams Washington's head to the canvas, skull hitting the mat 3 times in quick succession, leaving J-Dogg's eyes rolling in a daze. Belle then hooks the smaller girl's leg for the pin, but before the ref can even slide in to make the count, Kylie pops up onto the apron and interjects.
"What the hell, ref? You're just going to let her get away with that kind of shit? Hair isn't an illegal hold anymore?!"
The ref falls for the distraction tactic and confronts Sanders, trying to convince her to avoid interfering. Trisha just rolls her eyes as she realizes the count isn't happening and drops Washington's leg to the canvas. She stands up, scoffs at Kylie's interference, rolling her shoulders and neck for a second then charging, shouting out "HEADS UP!"
The ref proves to be more aware than most FAWN officials and spins to see Belle charging and, surprising everyone, he sidesteps the Minnesotan. Unfortunately for Kylie this means Trisha comes charging full speed into her, slamming a clothesline into the blonde's neck and sending her falling off the apron and tumbling to the floor at ringside.
The FAWNatics let the Pleasant Valley Pariah know what they think of her. She lies on the floor, a chant of "You deserved that!" punctuated with a series of claps before another round of "You deserved that!" roll over her. All the while, Kylie's hand clutches at her back as she takes a few breaths through clenched teeth.
Trisha turns to the slightly spooked ref and says, "Problem solved. Shall we?" with a gesture toward Jasmine, still lying on the canvas. And with that, Belle goes for the pin once more.
"ONE!"
"TWO!"
"TH-NOOO!"
Washington rolls a shoulder up meekly. Trisha doesn't even protest, instead just saying, "Bad move, Jasmine" as she grabs J-Dogg by the hair and drags her up to continue the match.
As Washington rises at Trisha’s direction, the months of tagging with Sanders and learning from FAWN’s most infamous traitor pay dividends for Jasmine when she reflexively shoots a set of nails to Belle’s baby blues, raking across them.
The champ shrieks in pain, turning away from the wobbly Washington. Trisha rubs vigorously at her peepers, the eyes red and teary from the abuse.
Knowing she’s bought a chance to stem and turn the tide, J-Dogg trails after the retreating Mauler and throws her entire body into a chop block to the back of Trisha’s left knee, trying her best to make the lower limb useless for the rest of the match; something Belle would have to drag behind her. Trisha drops to the knee in shooting pain, grasping at the braced joint, cursing the Hot of Hot&Bothered.
Peeking over the apron as she climbs toward vertical on the arena floor, Kylie’s raspy voice shows her support in less than forgiving terms, angrily demanding the African-American grappler cripple Trisha. J-Dogg nods enthusiastically as her senses and thoughts continue to coalesce, the aftereffects of the debilitating faceplants courtesy of Belle slowly dissipating.
Jazzy sends a couple stomps into the cap of Belle’s knee despite Trisha’s best efforts to shade her left side away from attack. The brunette clambers to her feet despite the abuse, the brace giving her the necessary stability to ignore the pounding to a degree.
Trisha grasps the top rope with her right hand and demands the official keep the challenger back. Not surprisingly, Jasmine isn’t interested in da man’s ‘advice’. Wash drives a soccer kick into the back of Belle’s knee, this one lifting the left limb forward like a pendulum, Trisha only remaining upright via her planted right leg and her grasp of the rubber-coated steel cable.
The ref, having had enough, grabs Jasmine around her café-au-lait-skinned waist and pushes her away from the injured Minnesotan. As he makes clear such violent shenanigans won’t be tolerated going forward, Sanders climbs to the apron and grabs Trisha’s noggin from behind. Kylie draws the back of Belle’s neck across the uppermost cable with a couple handfuls of dark locks then drops to the floor, reverse hotshotting the Intercontinental champion.
Belle lurches forward from the flagrant but unseen interference, falling into the clutches of the Hawkeye’s waiting teammate. Jasmine wraps her arms around the abs of the rickety Mauler and launches her up and over.
Northern Lights Suplex (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HvQPd3nU5ek )
Washington shows her increasing skills with a beautiful bridge on the back end of the Northern Lights Suplex, pinning the bigger brunette to the canvas for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Trisha kicks free emphatically, sending J-Dogg rolling away, Jasmine then hopping to her feet. While the third slap wasn’t particularly close, Belle remains matbound, wincing as she stares into the rafters from her horizontal position.
The Badass from Hotlanta skips over the splayed Trisha and runs to the ropes, hitting them in a handstand. Bouncing away from the cables, Jazzy shows her athletic prowess, backflipping when her boot soles return to the canvas. She finally splashes across the open tummy of her foe, forcing the champion to jackknife around the impact, Trisha rising in a ‘V’ shape around Jasmine.
Springboard Shining Star Press (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UXCSfYogBRc ) @ 4:35
Washington pivots to make her pin a full body effort and she stays planted atop the splattered Belle for…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Again Trisha shoves Jasmine off convincingly, though the effort comes much closer to the third slap than the last.
Dismayed by the Mauler’s continued show of strength, Kylie hides her disappointment, pumping her fist in support toward her partner even as most in the crowd cheer for Belle’s escape. Sanders clearly mouths ‘KNEE’ to Washington. The relative newcomer nods to the FAWN original and returns her attention to the champion, Belle having made it to all fours.
Moving quickly, Jasmine hovers above Trisha in a standing, backward-facing straddle then drops her less-than-secret weapon into the base of the Minnesotan’s spine. The butt bump flattens Trisha to the deck and instantly Jazzy collects her foe’s left ankle. Lifting and pulling back on the limb, Jasmine works at a single-leg Boston Crab, determined to shred some ligaments despite the supportive gear Belle employs to keep her wheel intact.
The official plants on all fours in front of Trisha and asks if she wants to give. Her response is an attempt to ’paint’ his face with a palm. Slowly but surely, the bigger brunette tugs her way toward the safety of the ropes, taking J-Dogg for the ride. Realizing she can’t control the tenacious Trisha, Jasmine rises from her crouch, spins in a 180 with continued possession of the vital limb and THROWS the left leg at the deck, Belle’s knee THUMPING into the thinly-covered plywood.
Trisha yelps in pain and tucks the stem close to her body. Understanding on the mat at the feet of her foe is no place for her to remain, she snatches the bottom rope and tugs herself out of the ring, landing on her right foot and hobbling out of range after pushing off the apron’s edge. She catches herself on the steel barricade separating the FAWNatics from the eventual victor and vanquished.
Instead of heading out to join the champ and get her back in the ring, Jasmine strides to the official to discuss current events, all the while turning his head away from the environs of the recovering Trisha.
A certain platinum blonde, hated near and far in the FAWNiverse, is not turning her head and beats her feet around the corner to get a bead on the brunette. Hazel eyes focused on Belle, Kylie times her charge as best she can with both Trisha’s and the ref’s eyes averted. She sprints the dozen feet or so to her target with right arm drawn to clothesline Trisha to the cement floor from the side.
However, the rats in the audience give the former Corps leader away before she can lower the mini-boom. Tipped off, Belle dips and presses her palms into the front of Kylie’s thighs and, when the bigger brunette straightens, she vaults a bugeyed Sanders high, back body dropping the elfin blonde into the laps of the front row.
The lucky fans get a heaping helping of FAWN’s most hated. Though she’s cushioned by the crowd, Sanders angrily squirms within the mass of humanity, wildly uncomfortable with her intimate proximity to her haters.
As the blonde struggles to get out of Grabbytown, Trisha turns her attention to Washington, who in turn brings her conversation with the referee to an end, Kylie’s gambit having failed.
Jasmine moves to the ropes near the champ and beckons Belle in from above, knowing very well she can’t win the belt on the outside.
“Get yo pasty ass in here, saltine,” Washington shouts. “Ain’t no amount of hidin’ gonna save you.”
Jasmine cockily leans over the top rope beckoning the champ to come back into the ring. Trisha does what she does best and tries for a cheap shot, jumping up to grab J-Dogg by the hair and pull her down across the top rope. However, Washington sees this coming and moves just in time to leave Trisha grasping at air.
"Nah-uh, Snowflake, bring your ass in her for a proper, FAWN approved whuppin.'" she teases Belle more, trying to get into her head. Trisha just waves to the ref, "Make sure she doesn't take a cheap shot while I get in. Do your fucking job for once." she chides the official. The ref does what he's told and steps between the women, even lifting the bottom rope slightly with a foot as Trisha rolls back in. But Jasmine does exactly what Trisha predicted anyway, pushing the ref aside before stomping a boot to the Minnesotan's navel, then throwing a series of kicks and stomps to the wrapped knee to keep on the injury.
The ref steps in again and pulls Washington back. "Fucking USELESS!" Trisha yells in pain and frustration to the seemingly powerless official.
J-Dogg gets right back at the champ, dragging Belle to her feet and forcing her to the corner to throw her face into the turnbuckle. Washington kicks the champ's leg out, bringing Trisha to one knee with a howl.
Jasmine puts a possessive hand atop the crown of Trisha’s head.
“Da Man ain’t got no hold on me,” Washington shouts to the crowd, Kylie backing her partner up with a knowing nod. “And this bytch ain’t got but one leg to stand on.”
Jazzy quickly finds out she has at least one working arm however, Belle shooting a forearm blast between the African-American grappler’s thighs. Jasmine’s and even Kylie’s face twist in pain, Washington rising to tiptoes from the impact, hands burying in her crotch as she painfully pivots and starts waddling away from the champion.
Trisha rises to her feet with the help of the ropes and limps after the retreating Washington, the toll in the title match making itself obvious. It’s a momentary race to see who is in worse shape. While the Mauler’s might be more long-lasting, she catches J-Dogg from behind, snaking her arms around Jasmine’s noggin in a grip designed to cut off blood at the carotid and press against Washington’s temples.
The challenger flails as best she can considering the throbbing pain from below, but it’s a weak effort at best, particularly when Belle has height and weight advantages. Belle leans her body into the sleeper, forcing Jasmine to carry much of her mass. Washington’s ebony stems quake from the effort as she shuffles toward a pleading call from Sanders to make the corner for a break.
Wash staggers forward, likely knowing if she goes down to her knees she won’t be getting up as champion. Jazzy drunkenly wobbles her way to the buckles falling into them, her arms leaden and her eyes glazed. Washington doesn’t have enough in her to demand a break, so Kylie makes sure to put in her two cents, screaming for Da Man’s boy to do his job.
The ref gives the elfin blonde a sour look and delays his count a couple seconds before acceding to the Hawkeye’s wishes, Belle slipping her enveloping arms from around Jasmine’s braincase at ‘FOUR’.
Trisha doesn’t back off however. Instead, she spins the dumbfounded J-Dogg to face her and grabs her foe’s raven locks around the ears. Holding the bobbling head still, she shoots her forehead forward and butts Wash between the eyes, one, two, three times going Around the Clock on the increasingly senseless challenger.
The Mauler pulls back and reviews the wreckage. Satisfied Jasmine barely knows where she is, she shoves Washington by, Jazzy stumbling a few steps toward the center before a dipping Belle swings an arm between the challenger’s legs from behind and launches J-Dogg off the canvas and across her shoulders in an upturned fireman’s carry.
A wincing Trisha takes a couple steps with her cargo in the Torture Rack, the brutal bend in Jasmine’s backbone already waking Wash from her stupor, when Belle’s left knee, even with the brace in place, can’t sustain the extra weight forced upon it. To her credit, it’s a controlled drop by the Mauler, sustaining her fight against the pain long enough to deliver a thumping inverted Samoan Drop, J-Dogg landing on her face and chest with incredible force.
As Trisha grips at her aching knee from a seated position, her legs extended, Kylie yells at her partner to evacuate. Jasmine’s able to lift her head and stare longingly at Sanders, only a few feet away, but every part of her body below the neck seems turned off. Given the time, Trisha tightens her brace, spins and crawls to the splayed Washington.
Going off script to save her leg where possible, Trisha settles in a perpendicular position next to Jasmine’s head and surrounds the noggin with a vicious crossface grip, wrenching back with her considerable might to force J-Dogg to bark out her submission.
Crossface (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sqirMXsa6tE ) @ 00:03
The ref gets in the face of the groaning challenger, asking Washington if she wants to surrender. On the outside, Kylie’s head is in her hands and she looks through the ‘cage’ of her fingers.
“NO QUITTING,” she shouts with blind hope before lifting the apron skirt next to her and surreptitiously collecting a steel chair to weaponize if the opportunity arises.
Despite Kylie's protests, J-Dogg's hand hovers just above the canvas, Washington obviously considering a submission over the painful crossface, but the FAWNatics don't get to see her tap, because as Trisha leans into the hold and even jerks the smaller girl's neck and head back and forth in her grip, and as Jasmine's spine curves back painfully, Washington's stamina fails her as she passes out in the now well practiced crossface of the IC champ.
Jasmine's hand falls limp to the mat, a soft whimper and moan showing she's done putting up any sort of fight. But just as the ref lifts J-Dogg's wrist to check for the knockout, Kylie chimes in with a shrill "Rope break!"
Trisha and the official both turn their heads dubiously, but they both find Kylie frantically pointing at Jasmine's right boot, the toe limply laid atop the bottom rope. The crowd lets out a loud series of boos and jeers, most likely because they saw Sanders PLACE Washington's toe on the rope, but the ref and Belle can't assume that sort of deceipt without witnessing it, so the official sheepishly says, "You'll have to break the hold, Trisha."
The Minnesota Mauler just sighs, "Fine. Doesn't really change anything. This girl is done no matter how you look at her."
Trisha then rolls toward center ring, dragging the limp Jasmine with her, eventually adjusting their positions until the girl from Hotlanta is sitting helplessly in her lap.
Then, Belle J-Dogg up, her good leg wrapping around Jasmine's waist as tight as she can manage, then she puts Washington's head back and into the crook of her arm, locking her up in an unnecessary, but satisfying dragon sleeper, squeezing and twisting the hold to see if Jasmine has any fight left in her. But, according to her limp arms and errant twitches from her fingers, she is completely finished.
It’s already a foregone conclusion, but the ref closes in to make it official, lifting Jasmine's wrist and letting it fall
"ONE."
"TWO"
"THREE"
He calls for the bell and the announcement as Trisha gives a few more harsh jerks in the hold before dropping J-Dogg unceremoniously to the canvas.
"Your winner and STILL Intercontinental Champion, TRISHA BELLE!"
The crowd roars with approval as Trisha is helped up by the ref and her hand is raised. She plants a dominant boot on Jasmine's chest.
Outside, Kylie’s right palm is on her forehead as Trisha drags her partner’s carcass to the middle for the anticlimactic coupe de grace. Her opposite set of fingers clench in a white-knuckled grip of the lowered steel chair next to her side.
“You want something done…” Kylie mumbles and she slides under the bottom rope in Trisha’s blindside with her weapon in tow while the Mauler gets her Gladiatrix money shot over a heeled J-Dogg.
Aiming the top rim of the seat back, FAWN’s most hated draws the metal back, slides in on one knee to get low, and RAMS the steel into the pit of Trisha’s already injured knee. Belle drops to the joint, howling in pain. She doesn’t have to deal with the agony long, as Kylie rises, lifts the chair overhead, and brings the thick seat pan down across the lowered skull of the bigger brunette, the impact landing with a sickening, metallic THWANK.
Trisha timbers lifelessly to the canvas, on Dream Street before she hits the deck.
Al snatches the chair away from a furious, ranting Sanders but the damage is done. The platinum blonde hovers over what’s left of Trisha, out cold in a spreadeagle at the Hawkeye’s feet.
“Doesn’t look like you’ll be mauling anyone for a long time, does it?”
Ky turns her attention to the crowd.
“Bytch won a battle, but no one wins the war with Hot&Bothered!” she shouts to the jeering FAWNatics.
The elfin blonde moves to Jasmine, still snoozing, and lightly taps her partner’s cheek to bring Washington back to conciousness.
“Don’t you worry,” Kylie says to a still uncomprehending Jasmine. “You started the job. I’ll finish it.”