Post by dsb on Dec 31, 2017 18:26:29 GMT
With the Seasons Beatings broadcast returning from a promo about tonight’s main event, a lens is trained on a pair of mischievous Mites backstage. Blonde and brunette are in their battle gear appearing to stomp away on an unseen figure, a dumpster full of paper and cardboard blocking the view of the cameraman on whom their victim might be.
Ponytails swish back and forth as Domi and Janel put the wood or, in this case, bare feet to some poor soul, the little jackals running wild until Manning catches a sniff of the evidence collector behind them.
Turning, The Golden Mite intercepts the cameraman before he can work his way around the blocking dumpster.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Manning barks, pushing the man when he tries to get around; Domi still making a mudhole out of whomever is hidden.
“You need to get your ass out of here, buddy,” Janel advises. “This is personal business.”
When the cameraman is slow to do so, Janel knocks the device out of his hands. It crashes to the floor, landing sideways. As static flashes in the picture, a pair of white boots with what appears to be an orange ‘BC’ can be seen, a set of tanned legs extending from the footwear as the screen fades to black.
The viewpoint switches to the arena’s outer bowl, a testy crowd, having seen the action, is mid-murmur and the noise slowly grows as they wait for some activity. Long seconds pass until full blown disdain finds a voice when Lady Gaga’s ‘Applause’ echoes through the arena.
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pco91kroVgQ )
Quickly behind, a disheveled and glistening lightweight champion appears, the former gymnast striding to center stage.
Behind her in support is her fellow Mite, the beaming, chipmunk-cheeked Manning. Janel’s flaxen ponytail shifts from one side to the other as she joins the titleholder. Daly unstraps her belt and raises it high with both hands, the vertically challenged Janel behind her once-again friend, kneading Daly’s trapezius.
[DOMI DALY]
[JANEL MANNING]
The bite-sized hardbody lowers her prize and thanks Janel over a shoulder, the stress melting away from the brunette with the deep tissue massage. Domi is decked out in a gleaming gold leotard dusted with tiny stars in red, white and blue. Strategic rips reveal several swatches of Daly’s trim midriff, her chiseled tummy matching the perfectly-sculptured shoulders, arms and thighs. The look is complete with matching gold tape on her wrists and ankles, chalk powder on her palms and the soles of her bare feet. She returns the glittering accessory to her waist, Manning locking it in place for her.
The cheery blonde teammate is clad in a skin-tight, black-and-red leotard; her taut, muscular frame on display. The spandex has a single solid red strap over her left shoulder, a thin trio of small red strips across the opposite number. Manning sports black wrist and ankle tape, pads and, as always, is without boots, the soles of her feet chalked for battle.
With the crowd’s bluster showing no signs of dissipating, Daly throws her head back, cups her hands around her mouth and shouts “HIT IT!”
The lights turn strobe, flickering on and off so fast even the most attentive fans can’t follow all of the effortlessly intricate series of tumbles, handsprings, flips and cartwheels that take the exotic brunette down the ramp. Tracking her is made all the more difficult by the thunderous trail of gold pyro that accompanies her journey from one end of the ramp and aisle to the other.
Through the flashes of light, those paying attention a few steps behind the champ can see Manning follow suit with a run displaying her gymnastic excellence.
When the lights regain their equilibrium Daly is on the outside of a top turnbuckle, Manning on the apron below her fellow Mite.
While Dominique throws her hands overhead in a ‘V’ and launches heavenward before spiraling into a descent that plants her in the center of the ring, Janel acquires a microphone from an attendant and heads into the ring in more conventional fashion, so as not to steal Dominique’s thunder. As Gaga goes bye-bye, Manning hands the stick over to the champ.
Domi opens her lips and is verbally pelted with a roaring round of jeers from the assembled. Her lips close in a smirk. She waits a few seconds and the smirk turns to a pissed snarl.
“OK. You’ve had your say. Now shut your mouths!”
The FAWNatics rev to jet-engine decibel levels.
“From what I understand, an enterprising pseudo-journalist may have scared you into believing there won’t be a title match tonight. I can assure you, you won’t be denied the height of athleticism that any match with me entails.
“I know you want a certain knockoff Suplex Machine to get her chance at the gold, BUT I’m afraid that won’t be happening. It seems she had a little accident backstage and will be physically unable to per…”
The growing cloudburst of boos morphs to a roar when the peppy Party Rock Anthem begins to play. On the FAWNtron is the colorful logo of the “Upstart Nation”.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pIOOwhmkoLo )
The music of Sarasota Sunshine plays for about a minute before a pause in the music. The Lyrics “SHAKE THAT!” are timed perfectly with an energetic blonde bouncing out from behind the curtain. The challenger runs back and forth throwing her arms in the air getting the crowd pumped. The purported Powerhouse of the Upstarts bounces excitedly on the stage, but the crowd quickly catches a whiff of the troll job perpetrated by the Mites.
As Janel collects the microphone from Daly, she makes herself the ring announcer and proceeds to the introduction.
“Tonight’s next match is scheduled for one fall with a 30-minute time limit and is for the FAWN Lightweight Championship. Hailing from Sarasota FL…she stands five feet three inches tall and weighs in at 121 pounds…THE SUPLEX MACHINE 2.0…BUNNY COOPER!”
On the stage, it’s clear the mock ‘Bunny’ is a miniaturized version of the real Cooper and those with a keen eye soon realize it’s Jenny Lewis, the oft forgotten Icy Mite. Playing up her role of Bunny, Jenny wears the familiar orange halter top bikini with green lacy fringes, tight booty shorts that also include fringes that hang down over her far less curvy frame. ‘Bunny’s’ pads, both elbow and knee, are white and she has short white boots with an orange ‘BC’ on the ankles.
[JENNY LEWIS (Sasha Cohen (the skater)]
Lewis, long missing from FAWN pay-per-views, puts her soul into the role, doing the hamster dance from the Kia commercials. The blonde’s movements match the cartoon characters’ AND BUNNY’s exactly.
Jenny (Bunny) completes the dance and starts down the ramp slapping the hands of those still confused enough not to be sure the challenger isn’t the real Cooper.
Hopping to the ring apron, Jenny moves to the center of the ropes and wipes her boot soles. She grabs the top strand, wiggles her hips as she crouches down, and explodes, easily leaping over the top rope and into the ring.
‘Bunny’ moves to Daly and offers her a hand of friendship. Domi starts to respond in kind before ‘psyching out’ the mock Cooper by drawing the hand away just before the shake. A disappointed ‘Cooper’ shrugs and bounces to her corner, the irritated crowd booing the fake challenger.
Janel clears her throat into the voice amplifier.
“And her opponent. Hailing from the Rose City of Portland, Oregon. She stands five feet two inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and twelve pounds. She is the Mighty Mite…and she is the FAWN LIGHTWEIGHT CHAMPION…DOMINIQUE DALY!”
Daly raises her arms high and wide to the growing frustration from the crowd. The confused Nick Castle glances at Bethany Christian’s suite and, seeing no response, shrugs and takes the belt from Daly for safekeeping. Domi unbuckles and hands over the title while Janel moves to her station in Daly’s corner.
With the belt forwarded from the referee to staff, Castle calls for the bell. Dominique and the fake ‘Bunny’ stride toward each other and when Domi balls a fist and pivots to send a right cross in the challenger’s direction, the fake ‘Cooper’ drops to her knees and pleads for mercy.
“Please Miss Daly,” ‘Bunny’ whimpers, slapping her palms together in prayer. Janel tosses the stick to Daly who lowers it to lips of the mock ‘Bunny’.
“I realize I shouldn’t have come out here and acted as if I wanted anything to do with a great athlete like you. The rest of the Upstarts bullied me into it.”
Domi nods knowingly, pulling the microphone to her lips.
“That nasty little Sammie Sinclair. It sounds like something she’d do. Or Chloe. They have you fooled, people.”
The crowd disagrees vociferously, showing their love for the Upstart Supreme with a “SAMM…MEEE” chant.
“OK. Shut it,” Domi demands. “Someone important is talking.”
The Mighty Mite motions the play-acting Icy Mite to rise and ‘Bunny’ quivers to her feet, head bowed in submission.
“If,” Domi continues, “IF you lie down and take the pin, I’ll let you walk out of her with the shred of dignity you have left, Cooper.”
Bunny/Jenny nods enthusiastically.
“Yes…yes. Anything.”
The mock ‘Bunny’ forward flips to a landing on her spine, as if some invisible grappler has suplexed her there. She spreads her tiny frame in a wide starfish, waiting for Daly’s body to lie atop hers.
A grinning Domi looks down on her fellow Mite.
“Wise choice.”
Dominique lowers her spandex-sheathed frame down to cover the meek, wide-eyed ‘Bunny’ when the faux ‘Cooper’ springs to life, crunching her chiseled abs to reach a hand up and grab and pull a startled Daly off her feet, Jenny pulling the champ into a small package, the microphone ‘clunking’ next to the pinned Domi
“What the f*** are you…” Daly squeals as she struggles to break free of the pinning predicament.
An equally surprised Castle takes a tick to get to the canvas then slaps out…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Domi breaks free within an instant of losing her title. The ponytailed brunette scrambles to her feet only to EAT a dropkick to the chops from the duplicitous Bunny, er, Icy Mite.
The decked Daly massages her jaw as a stunned Manning watches with incredulity. Lewis picks up the abandoned microphone.
“You bytches forget all about me until you want to use me as a troll? Kylie’s the only damn troll in this company. I’m a champion.”
Jenny races to a rising Dominique and takes her down with a Thesz Press then NAILS Domi between the eyes with a punch that’s boosted by the stick in her grip, a loud ‘CLUNK’ adding some flavor to the right cross. Jenny tosses the microphone out of the ring and places her palms down on Domi’s shoulders for a schoolgirl pin and the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Daly’s able to kick loose, barely, fear in her almond-shaped eyes as her plan to steal from Bunny her rightful challenge and humiliate her in absentia has become someone else’s plan to pilfer her gold.
Jenny lurches to all fours over the splayed Daly, Janel pleading with the champ to get up and squash the “twerp”. She rises but not as quickly as the Suplex Machine 2.5.
Jenny, sneaking in from Domi’s six, wraps her arms around the taut midriff of the lightweight titleholder, cinching an embrace tight. Before a bug-eyed gasping Domi can pry loose, Lewis launches Daly up and over, PLANTING her to the deck with a Bridging German Suplex that has Domi stacked on her shoulders, legs bicycling above her as Jenny holds on for dear life through the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOO!
The frantic Mighty Mite spills to her side, just escaping, the crowd groaning in disappointment. No fans of the bratty Icy Mite, the FAWNatics still long to see Domi’s prize removed from her as karma for the apparent backstage beatdown that kept the real Bunny from getting her chance.
Jenny, an orange and green blur, kips to her feet and heads to the ropes, leaping into the middle cable while grabbing the top. Showing a former skater can take to the skies and make then friendly as easy as a former gymnast, Jenny springboards into a backflip and CRASHES across the trembling tummy of the splashed Daly.
Domi groans as an exhale bursts from between her lips, body jackknifing around the Icy avalanche, one featherweight crushing another with her Icysault. As Daly melts to horizontal, Jenny, already layered atop the splattered Pac Rim beauty, hooks Domi’s far leg for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREENOOO!
By the scantest of margins, Daly lifts a shoulder Janel having turned her head, unable to watch, sighs in relief when she hears the crowd groan. Turning back, Manning sees the rogue Mite push off the reeling Daly, palms against bosom, and spring to her feet.
The tiny hardbody glides into motion, heading for the ropes again. This time she rebounds toward the ascending Daly. Closer to down than up, Dominique sees the traitor coming and heads back to the mat. Jenny skips over the flattened Daly, skittering onto the next set of strands. The former skater leaps into these cables, landing on the middle while grabbing the top.
Knowing Domi will likely be on her feet, the Icysault isn’t an option, but Lewis has another arrow in her quiver and launches into a twisting crossbody splash into the now vertical Daly. Unfortunately for the crowd and the challenger, Dominique isn’t bowled over. Daly staggers through a couple backward steps but retains her balance and holds a horizontal, squirming Lewis tight to her chest.
“Big mistake, Jenny,” Daly grunts. “Big.”
With the featherweight in her possession, the former gymnast heaves Lewis, dipping slightly before throwing Jenny over her shoulders with a fallaway slam.
Fallaway slam (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yNAuZBPU5_k )
Daly sits up, breathing hard but finally looking like the joke is no longer on her. She spins to see a wincing Jenny reaching for her lower spine, the landing having given Lewis an unwanted adjustment to her vertebrae.
Fury is evident in the almond-shaped eyes of the titleholder as Daly pushes to her feet and races to the downed Jenny. Domi launches above the former faux Bunny and comes down in her patented splits version of a leg drop, the lead limb crashing down across the throat of the Icy Mite. As Jenny chokes, grasping at the leg lying across her neck, Castle drops next to the pinned shoulders of Lewis and counts out…
ONE…
TWO…
Jenny, in Bunny’s colors, pushes Domi’s sinewy stem off and rolls away gagging. She seems to consider rolling out but sees a waiting snarling Janel, shaking her head.
Thinking better of it, Jenny breathlessly shoves to her feet and turns to face her former leader. Domi is already charging. The ponytailed brunette leaps in a flip over the left shoulder of her icy sister Mite, grabbing Jenny’s head as she does. As Daly lands on her back, the crown of Lewis’ skull is DRIVEN into the deck in horrendous fashion, the Running Front Flip DDT drawing a sympathetic groan from the crowd at impact and several involuntary spasms from Jenny’s body after, Lewis ending in a semiconscious spreadeagle.
From the eyes rolled white and the flaccid nature of her foe’s frame, the champ could have likely covered for a count of ten if not twenty, but Daly isn’t having it. She moves to the nearest corner and heads for the top, climbing carefully.
Daly rises to a stance on the uppermost ropes and stares out on the audience.
“Looks like TWO Bunnys are learning a lesson tonight,” she shouts.
Domi launches from her perch in a rafter-scraping backflip of a moonsault, Daly precisely landing her bare feet into the chiseled tummy of the former skater. Marble or not, the midriff gives way under the Stuck Dismount and every bit of air and fight is driven from the pretender turned contender turned loser.
Domi falls forward into a handstand before crashing down across Jenny’s tummy with a standard splash, hooking a muscled leg of the rogue Mite for an anticlimactic…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!!!
Daly tosses the leg away, rises and motions for Janel to get her belt then join her. Manning rips the gold from an attendant and slides into the ring, messenger to the lightweight champion. Domi signals for her to lay the belt on the canvas, faceplate up.
As Manning does then has a further discussion with her fellow Mite, the notice of judgment comes down from the speakers.
“Your winner and STILL lightweight champion…Domi Daly.”
Together, Janel and Domi pluck a dazed Jenny off the canvas and apply tandem front facelocks.
Jenny/Bunny picks up another name as the Mites simultaneously offer a growling “Bye Felicia” as they DDT Jenny’s skull into the belt, Lewis flipping to an unconscious starfish after impact.
With the EMTs already on the way, Domi collects her title accessory and together the meaningful Mites head for the exit to leave the stepchild of the group to be disposed of and sent back to The Jungle. They stop by the ring announcer on the way and Domi grabs a microphone.
“By the way, scum. Since BUNNY lost the match, she goes to the end of the line. Enjoy the climb back up rodent!”
Daly tosses the stick away and, arm in arm, Janel and Dominique head up the aisle and ramp for the start of a very happy 2018.
Ponytails swish back and forth as Domi and Janel put the wood or, in this case, bare feet to some poor soul, the little jackals running wild until Manning catches a sniff of the evidence collector behind them.
Turning, The Golden Mite intercepts the cameraman before he can work his way around the blocking dumpster.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Manning barks, pushing the man when he tries to get around; Domi still making a mudhole out of whomever is hidden.
“You need to get your ass out of here, buddy,” Janel advises. “This is personal business.”
When the cameraman is slow to do so, Janel knocks the device out of his hands. It crashes to the floor, landing sideways. As static flashes in the picture, a pair of white boots with what appears to be an orange ‘BC’ can be seen, a set of tanned legs extending from the footwear as the screen fades to black.
The viewpoint switches to the arena’s outer bowl, a testy crowd, having seen the action, is mid-murmur and the noise slowly grows as they wait for some activity. Long seconds pass until full blown disdain finds a voice when Lady Gaga’s ‘Applause’ echoes through the arena.
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pco91kroVgQ )
Quickly behind, a disheveled and glistening lightweight champion appears, the former gymnast striding to center stage.
Behind her in support is her fellow Mite, the beaming, chipmunk-cheeked Manning. Janel’s flaxen ponytail shifts from one side to the other as she joins the titleholder. Daly unstraps her belt and raises it high with both hands, the vertically challenged Janel behind her once-again friend, kneading Daly’s trapezius.
[DOMI DALY]
[JANEL MANNING]
The bite-sized hardbody lowers her prize and thanks Janel over a shoulder, the stress melting away from the brunette with the deep tissue massage. Domi is decked out in a gleaming gold leotard dusted with tiny stars in red, white and blue. Strategic rips reveal several swatches of Daly’s trim midriff, her chiseled tummy matching the perfectly-sculptured shoulders, arms and thighs. The look is complete with matching gold tape on her wrists and ankles, chalk powder on her palms and the soles of her bare feet. She returns the glittering accessory to her waist, Manning locking it in place for her.
The cheery blonde teammate is clad in a skin-tight, black-and-red leotard; her taut, muscular frame on display. The spandex has a single solid red strap over her left shoulder, a thin trio of small red strips across the opposite number. Manning sports black wrist and ankle tape, pads and, as always, is without boots, the soles of her feet chalked for battle.
With the crowd’s bluster showing no signs of dissipating, Daly throws her head back, cups her hands around her mouth and shouts “HIT IT!”
The lights turn strobe, flickering on and off so fast even the most attentive fans can’t follow all of the effortlessly intricate series of tumbles, handsprings, flips and cartwheels that take the exotic brunette down the ramp. Tracking her is made all the more difficult by the thunderous trail of gold pyro that accompanies her journey from one end of the ramp and aisle to the other.
Through the flashes of light, those paying attention a few steps behind the champ can see Manning follow suit with a run displaying her gymnastic excellence.
When the lights regain their equilibrium Daly is on the outside of a top turnbuckle, Manning on the apron below her fellow Mite.
While Dominique throws her hands overhead in a ‘V’ and launches heavenward before spiraling into a descent that plants her in the center of the ring, Janel acquires a microphone from an attendant and heads into the ring in more conventional fashion, so as not to steal Dominique’s thunder. As Gaga goes bye-bye, Manning hands the stick over to the champ.
Domi opens her lips and is verbally pelted with a roaring round of jeers from the assembled. Her lips close in a smirk. She waits a few seconds and the smirk turns to a pissed snarl.
“OK. You’ve had your say. Now shut your mouths!”
The FAWNatics rev to jet-engine decibel levels.
“From what I understand, an enterprising pseudo-journalist may have scared you into believing there won’t be a title match tonight. I can assure you, you won’t be denied the height of athleticism that any match with me entails.
“I know you want a certain knockoff Suplex Machine to get her chance at the gold, BUT I’m afraid that won’t be happening. It seems she had a little accident backstage and will be physically unable to per…”
The growing cloudburst of boos morphs to a roar when the peppy Party Rock Anthem begins to play. On the FAWNtron is the colorful logo of the “Upstart Nation”.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pIOOwhmkoLo )
The music of Sarasota Sunshine plays for about a minute before a pause in the music. The Lyrics “SHAKE THAT!” are timed perfectly with an energetic blonde bouncing out from behind the curtain. The challenger runs back and forth throwing her arms in the air getting the crowd pumped. The purported Powerhouse of the Upstarts bounces excitedly on the stage, but the crowd quickly catches a whiff of the troll job perpetrated by the Mites.
As Janel collects the microphone from Daly, she makes herself the ring announcer and proceeds to the introduction.
“Tonight’s next match is scheduled for one fall with a 30-minute time limit and is for the FAWN Lightweight Championship. Hailing from Sarasota FL…she stands five feet three inches tall and weighs in at 121 pounds…THE SUPLEX MACHINE 2.0…BUNNY COOPER!”
On the stage, it’s clear the mock ‘Bunny’ is a miniaturized version of the real Cooper and those with a keen eye soon realize it’s Jenny Lewis, the oft forgotten Icy Mite. Playing up her role of Bunny, Jenny wears the familiar orange halter top bikini with green lacy fringes, tight booty shorts that also include fringes that hang down over her far less curvy frame. ‘Bunny’s’ pads, both elbow and knee, are white and she has short white boots with an orange ‘BC’ on the ankles.
[JENNY LEWIS (Sasha Cohen (the skater)]
Lewis, long missing from FAWN pay-per-views, puts her soul into the role, doing the hamster dance from the Kia commercials. The blonde’s movements match the cartoon characters’ AND BUNNY’s exactly.
Jenny (Bunny) completes the dance and starts down the ramp slapping the hands of those still confused enough not to be sure the challenger isn’t the real Cooper.
Hopping to the ring apron, Jenny moves to the center of the ropes and wipes her boot soles. She grabs the top strand, wiggles her hips as she crouches down, and explodes, easily leaping over the top rope and into the ring.
‘Bunny’ moves to Daly and offers her a hand of friendship. Domi starts to respond in kind before ‘psyching out’ the mock Cooper by drawing the hand away just before the shake. A disappointed ‘Cooper’ shrugs and bounces to her corner, the irritated crowd booing the fake challenger.
Janel clears her throat into the voice amplifier.
“And her opponent. Hailing from the Rose City of Portland, Oregon. She stands five feet two inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and twelve pounds. She is the Mighty Mite…and she is the FAWN LIGHTWEIGHT CHAMPION…DOMINIQUE DALY!”
Daly raises her arms high and wide to the growing frustration from the crowd. The confused Nick Castle glances at Bethany Christian’s suite and, seeing no response, shrugs and takes the belt from Daly for safekeeping. Domi unbuckles and hands over the title while Janel moves to her station in Daly’s corner.
With the belt forwarded from the referee to staff, Castle calls for the bell. Dominique and the fake ‘Bunny’ stride toward each other and when Domi balls a fist and pivots to send a right cross in the challenger’s direction, the fake ‘Cooper’ drops to her knees and pleads for mercy.
“Please Miss Daly,” ‘Bunny’ whimpers, slapping her palms together in prayer. Janel tosses the stick to Daly who lowers it to lips of the mock ‘Bunny’.
“I realize I shouldn’t have come out here and acted as if I wanted anything to do with a great athlete like you. The rest of the Upstarts bullied me into it.”
Domi nods knowingly, pulling the microphone to her lips.
“That nasty little Sammie Sinclair. It sounds like something she’d do. Or Chloe. They have you fooled, people.”
The crowd disagrees vociferously, showing their love for the Upstart Supreme with a “SAMM…MEEE” chant.
“OK. Shut it,” Domi demands. “Someone important is talking.”
The Mighty Mite motions the play-acting Icy Mite to rise and ‘Bunny’ quivers to her feet, head bowed in submission.
“If,” Domi continues, “IF you lie down and take the pin, I’ll let you walk out of her with the shred of dignity you have left, Cooper.”
Bunny/Jenny nods enthusiastically.
“Yes…yes. Anything.”
The mock ‘Bunny’ forward flips to a landing on her spine, as if some invisible grappler has suplexed her there. She spreads her tiny frame in a wide starfish, waiting for Daly’s body to lie atop hers.
A grinning Domi looks down on her fellow Mite.
“Wise choice.”
Dominique lowers her spandex-sheathed frame down to cover the meek, wide-eyed ‘Bunny’ when the faux ‘Cooper’ springs to life, crunching her chiseled abs to reach a hand up and grab and pull a startled Daly off her feet, Jenny pulling the champ into a small package, the microphone ‘clunking’ next to the pinned Domi
“What the f*** are you…” Daly squeals as she struggles to break free of the pinning predicament.
An equally surprised Castle takes a tick to get to the canvas then slaps out…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Domi breaks free within an instant of losing her title. The ponytailed brunette scrambles to her feet only to EAT a dropkick to the chops from the duplicitous Bunny, er, Icy Mite.
The decked Daly massages her jaw as a stunned Manning watches with incredulity. Lewis picks up the abandoned microphone.
“You bytches forget all about me until you want to use me as a troll? Kylie’s the only damn troll in this company. I’m a champion.”
Jenny races to a rising Dominique and takes her down with a Thesz Press then NAILS Domi between the eyes with a punch that’s boosted by the stick in her grip, a loud ‘CLUNK’ adding some flavor to the right cross. Jenny tosses the microphone out of the ring and places her palms down on Domi’s shoulders for a schoolgirl pin and the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Daly’s able to kick loose, barely, fear in her almond-shaped eyes as her plan to steal from Bunny her rightful challenge and humiliate her in absentia has become someone else’s plan to pilfer her gold.
Jenny lurches to all fours over the splayed Daly, Janel pleading with the champ to get up and squash the “twerp”. She rises but not as quickly as the Suplex Machine 2.5.
Jenny, sneaking in from Domi’s six, wraps her arms around the taut midriff of the lightweight titleholder, cinching an embrace tight. Before a bug-eyed gasping Domi can pry loose, Lewis launches Daly up and over, PLANTING her to the deck with a Bridging German Suplex that has Domi stacked on her shoulders, legs bicycling above her as Jenny holds on for dear life through the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOO!
The frantic Mighty Mite spills to her side, just escaping, the crowd groaning in disappointment. No fans of the bratty Icy Mite, the FAWNatics still long to see Domi’s prize removed from her as karma for the apparent backstage beatdown that kept the real Bunny from getting her chance.
Jenny, an orange and green blur, kips to her feet and heads to the ropes, leaping into the middle cable while grabbing the top. Showing a former skater can take to the skies and make then friendly as easy as a former gymnast, Jenny springboards into a backflip and CRASHES across the trembling tummy of the splashed Daly.
Domi groans as an exhale bursts from between her lips, body jackknifing around the Icy avalanche, one featherweight crushing another with her Icysault. As Daly melts to horizontal, Jenny, already layered atop the splattered Pac Rim beauty, hooks Domi’s far leg for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREENOOO!
By the scantest of margins, Daly lifts a shoulder Janel having turned her head, unable to watch, sighs in relief when she hears the crowd groan. Turning back, Manning sees the rogue Mite push off the reeling Daly, palms against bosom, and spring to her feet.
The tiny hardbody glides into motion, heading for the ropes again. This time she rebounds toward the ascending Daly. Closer to down than up, Dominique sees the traitor coming and heads back to the mat. Jenny skips over the flattened Daly, skittering onto the next set of strands. The former skater leaps into these cables, landing on the middle while grabbing the top.
Knowing Domi will likely be on her feet, the Icysault isn’t an option, but Lewis has another arrow in her quiver and launches into a twisting crossbody splash into the now vertical Daly. Unfortunately for the crowd and the challenger, Dominique isn’t bowled over. Daly staggers through a couple backward steps but retains her balance and holds a horizontal, squirming Lewis tight to her chest.
“Big mistake, Jenny,” Daly grunts. “Big.”
With the featherweight in her possession, the former gymnast heaves Lewis, dipping slightly before throwing Jenny over her shoulders with a fallaway slam.
Fallaway slam (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yNAuZBPU5_k )
Daly sits up, breathing hard but finally looking like the joke is no longer on her. She spins to see a wincing Jenny reaching for her lower spine, the landing having given Lewis an unwanted adjustment to her vertebrae.
Fury is evident in the almond-shaped eyes of the titleholder as Daly pushes to her feet and races to the downed Jenny. Domi launches above the former faux Bunny and comes down in her patented splits version of a leg drop, the lead limb crashing down across the throat of the Icy Mite. As Jenny chokes, grasping at the leg lying across her neck, Castle drops next to the pinned shoulders of Lewis and counts out…
ONE…
TWO…
Jenny, in Bunny’s colors, pushes Domi’s sinewy stem off and rolls away gagging. She seems to consider rolling out but sees a waiting snarling Janel, shaking her head.
Thinking better of it, Jenny breathlessly shoves to her feet and turns to face her former leader. Domi is already charging. The ponytailed brunette leaps in a flip over the left shoulder of her icy sister Mite, grabbing Jenny’s head as she does. As Daly lands on her back, the crown of Lewis’ skull is DRIVEN into the deck in horrendous fashion, the Running Front Flip DDT drawing a sympathetic groan from the crowd at impact and several involuntary spasms from Jenny’s body after, Lewis ending in a semiconscious spreadeagle.
From the eyes rolled white and the flaccid nature of her foe’s frame, the champ could have likely covered for a count of ten if not twenty, but Daly isn’t having it. She moves to the nearest corner and heads for the top, climbing carefully.
Daly rises to a stance on the uppermost ropes and stares out on the audience.
“Looks like TWO Bunnys are learning a lesson tonight,” she shouts.
Domi launches from her perch in a rafter-scraping backflip of a moonsault, Daly precisely landing her bare feet into the chiseled tummy of the former skater. Marble or not, the midriff gives way under the Stuck Dismount and every bit of air and fight is driven from the pretender turned contender turned loser.
Domi falls forward into a handstand before crashing down across Jenny’s tummy with a standard splash, hooking a muscled leg of the rogue Mite for an anticlimactic…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!!!
Daly tosses the leg away, rises and motions for Janel to get her belt then join her. Manning rips the gold from an attendant and slides into the ring, messenger to the lightweight champion. Domi signals for her to lay the belt on the canvas, faceplate up.
As Manning does then has a further discussion with her fellow Mite, the notice of judgment comes down from the speakers.
“Your winner and STILL lightweight champion…Domi Daly.”
Together, Janel and Domi pluck a dazed Jenny off the canvas and apply tandem front facelocks.
Jenny/Bunny picks up another name as the Mites simultaneously offer a growling “Bye Felicia” as they DDT Jenny’s skull into the belt, Lewis flipping to an unconscious starfish after impact.
With the EMTs already on the way, Domi collects her title accessory and together the meaningful Mites head for the exit to leave the stepchild of the group to be disposed of and sent back to The Jungle. They stop by the ring announcer on the way and Domi grabs a microphone.
“By the way, scum. Since BUNNY lost the match, she goes to the end of the line. Enjoy the climb back up rodent!”
Daly tosses the stick away and, arm in arm, Janel and Dominique head up the aisle and ramp for the start of a very happy 2018.