Post by alyadmirer on May 15, 2018 1:46:33 GMT
following contest is scheduled for one fall,” our resident announcer declares, “with a thirty minute time limit… and is for the FAWN INTERCONTINENTAL TITLE!!!”
The vast majority of the FAWNatics erupt in cheers at those words. But the identity of the current title holder proves more than sufficient to draw a chorus of boos, and already an attempt by one inebriated fan to prematurely initiate a chant of “TROLL!”
“Introducing first, the challenger,” the man in the tux resumes. “Hailing from Spokane, Washington by way of Albuquerque, New Mexico, she weighs in this evening at one hundred and twelve pounds ... Ladies and gentlemen, would you please give a warm Orlando welcome to… CHHHAAARRRLLLIIIEEE DAAAWWWSSSOOONNN!!!!!”
CHARLIE DAWSON:
”STYLE”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=-CmadmM5cOk
The FAWNatics do just that, turning things up to eleven as Taylor Swift’s ‘Style’ begins to play over the sound system. And, just a couple of moments later, a stunning, bedimpled young blonde bursts through the curtains. Once the beaming Dawson arrives, however, the crowd remarkably manages to raise the decibel meter further still! And yet... despite the FAWN Arena’s capacity dwarfing the Left Turn, Charlie’s “first home” in her wrestling career, by a factor of HUNDREDS to one, somehow their roar didn’t feel QUITE as loud to Dawson. But that doesn’t stop the youngster from bringing her hands up to her ears, covering them as if the roar might be painful--but the smile that remained planted on Charlie’s lips illustrated just how much she’s enjoying the moment. Blushing, the blonde motioned downward with her hands...
SKYE MITCHELL:
But the capacity crowd would have none of it--especially not with her tag team partner, Skylar Mitchell, standing behind her, waving her hands UPWARD frantically, beckoning the FAWNatics to keep the love coming. As frenetic as Skylar’s arms are moving, perhaps Charlie spots a bit of a blur out of the corner of her eye, prompting her to spin around...
The kid might be quick, but not quick enough. By the time she’s facing Skye, her fellow youngster’s hands are clasped behind her back, and she looks up toward the lights, whistling in pure innocence.
Charlie shakes her head at her partner before turning and taking off toward the ring. Skylar followed suit almost immediately. The Sweethearts make it a point to slap EVERY single hand offered her way--and ESPECIALLY the younger ones.
Finally, the Darling of the Desert Southwest slides under the bottom rope, springing to her feet, the Li’lest Mitchell content to remain at ringside and let her friend and partner soak in the adulation alone. Dawson unzips her hot pink hoodie, slipping it off to reveal a light blue fightin’ two piece that, in spite of its somewhat modest and innocent cut still managed to raise the blood pressure of quite a few spectators. For her part, down on the floor, Skye notices that one of the ringside cameramen happens to be positioned VERY close to her. And so, she turns, drawing his attention as she STARTS to unzip her hoodie, drawing the zipper down JUUUST enough to tease a hint of the royal purple lycra bikini top underneath…
… but then, with a wink and a smile, Mitchell pulls the zipper back up. With anyone else, such a gesture might have earned a little heat. Skye just made it seem adorable.
As her music fades, Charlie takes up position in her corner, stretching and loosening up as her mind contemplates the coming match up. As young as she might be, Dawson is well enough aware of FAWN’s history to also be aware of the comparisons many a FAWNatic have drawn, both in online forums and in one-on-one conversations with her, between Charlie today and the woman she was about to face, at the start of her career. And she understood FAWN history well enough to know that, even in her days when she occupied a space in the FAWNatics’ hearts similar to the one Dawson has been laying claim to, young Kylie Sanders’ reputation as something of a welcome mat had never been fully deserved. She had always presented a formidable challenge to anyone aiming to take her down, and had earned her place as a FAWN legend and icon long before her change of heart made her even more formidable and dangerous…
… but she COULD be beaten. Skylar Mitchell had demonstrated that herself, not so very long ago. And tonight, it would be Charlie’s turn.
The platinum blonde pixie from hell watches on the monitor backstage as Charlie and the woman who’s quickly becoming her least favorite Mitchell revel in the FAWNatics’ love.
KYLIE SANDERS:
“I don’t f’n believe this,” Sanders says to the screen before turning to her partner. “First that bytch Cynthia grabs gold with that Southern-fried floozy from Alabama and now these two sweeeeethearts.”
Sanders’ voice drips with hateful syrupy saccharinity.
“They’re becoming burrs under my butt, under our butt.”
JASMINE WASHINGTON:
“You best not be sayin’ it’s my fault we lost to dem, Chill,” Jasmine growls. “I’m pretty sure Mitchell pinned yo ass.”
“I didn’t say, shyt” Sanders demurs. “But what I AM sayin’ is you got my back. Right, Dogg?.”
Jasmine nods at the FAWN original.
“I gotcha,” Washington assures. “Now tear Da Man’s baby doll a new one.”
The Hawkeye gives the faceplate of the Intercontinental belt strapped around her waist a slap then heads to the bowl when Iggy and Charlie (the good Charlie) belt H&B’s anthem ‘Fancy’ throughout the arena.
”FANCY”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=O-zpOMYRi0w
Chill and J-Dogg push through the curtain and stride to center stage, Washington at the champ’s right hand.
Having traded in her Louis Vuitton clutch for FAWN’s Intercontinental belt, Kylie’s title gold prompted a makeover drawing on echoes of her original gear. Sanders sports a unique, multi-strapped yellow-gold sports bra topside with black boy-cut shorts, black boots and pads.
(https://www.yandy.com/Multi-Strapped-Microfiber-Sports-Bra.php )
On the FAWNtron behind her, ‘‘VANILLA CHILL IN DA HOUSE BYTCHES!’ appears in ten-foot high, gold letters. Jazzy shows Sanders off, the Nubian beauty raising a wrist of the former fan favorite, the boos falling like a downpour.
Vanilla Chill smirks at the Orlando lowlifes as the women head down the ramp and aisle together, Washington talking shyt about everyone and everything, including the woman in the ring.
Reaching the squared circle, Sanders dabs her partner, the Hawkeye sharing a moment with her teammate.
“Keep that Mitchell runt off me,” Ky demands. “I want to beat on that Charlie doll morning, noon, and night.”
The elfin blonde turns a much sterner gaze to the multitudes heaping their disdain and tossing less than complimentary remarks at the turncoat.
Becoming agitated when a ‘TROLL’ chant breaks out, Kylie heads up the steps, leaving J-Dogg to her station on the outside, Washington dressed in a tiny black hoodie, (black version of the following: i2.photobucket.com/albums/y32/biggerb/Jasmine-clothing.jpg~original ), the grappler snapping her head back to clear the hood from her cranium and shoulder-length ebony locks. Beneath Jazzy wears camo boy-cut trunks ( s2.photobucket.com/user/biggerb/media/Jasmine-clothing%20below.jpg.html ) which accentuate her bootylicious backside.
As Sanders moves to the middle, the ring announcer picks up his cue.
“AND her opponent. From da space where Da Man ain’t got no place…standing five feet four inches tall and weighing in at 112 pounds…FAWN’s Intercontinental Champion…Vanilla Chill…Kylie Sanders!”
Ky, stick already in hand, waves at the crowd to shut the hell up. They only turn up the volume of their hatred. Sanders shoves the belt overhead and the “TROLL” chant starts anew and when Skye and Charlie join in, the Pleasant Valley Pariah turns from flushed to furious.
“I’M GOING TO TURN YOU INSIDE OUT!” Kylie screams at Dawson. “I’M GOD’S GIFT TO THIS HELLHOLE. I AM NOT A…”
Sanders manages to stop before saying the word, but the fans end the rhyme.
“TROLL…TROLL…TROLL”.
A flustered Sanders throws the microphone away drawing a momentary cheer but the chant quickly returns, Kylie covering her ears.
Many in the audience lift sticks with a little troll dolls strung from the end, usually around the neck but occasionally by the ankle for the more squeamish.
Sanders stomps to her corner. With Jasmine now on the apron, Wash fashions her hands into muffs over Kylie’s to try and prevent Chill from the audible assault.
“SHUT YO DAMN MOUTHS!” J-Dogg insists, but the assembled chant on until Washington and Mitchell drop to the floor and the zebra calls for the bell.
The two diminutive blondes, separated by a metric ton of experience and accomplishment, circle the ring before coming together in a collar-and-elbow. Sanders quickly pivots and tugs Dawson into a side headlock, grinding her foe’s noggin against her hip.
“Fluke,” Chill shouts to the front rows, presumably referring to the loss America’s Sweethearts placed on Hot&Bothered in the 2017 Queens of the Ring tourney. Jasmine turns and nods at the crowd.
“Da Man knows it and you all damn well know it too.”
While Washington lets her opinion be known, Charlie moves her hands to Kylie’s hips and shoves the champ off, Sanders taking the momentum to the ropes. She bounds into the cables and speeds back toward the waiting Charlotte. Racing headlong toward her foe, Ky finds herself racing beneath when Charlie leapfrogs the sprinting Sanders.
Kylie hits her second set of ropes and returns toward a spinning Charlie who brings a leg lariat with her rotation. Dawson’s alabaster right stem CRASHES into Kylie’s collarbone, sending her splattering to the canvas, back hitting heavy against the canvas.
Ky bounces up to a seated position from the force of the impact and, Charlie, on her feet in an instant, is racing to the cables in front of the dazed Sanders. Dawson is a blur as she shoots out of the strands and NAILS the Pleasant Valley Pariah with a dropkick to the chest that flattens Kylie to the deck. Taking a shot at a quick win, the Sweetheart dives atop the splayed Sanders, hooking a leg with a lateral press for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Chill kicks free at the concerned urging of her partner. In the opposite corner, Skye gives an encouraging ovation to her teammate. Dawson responds by snatching her foe by the head and tugging Sanders to her feet. Wanting to keep the pace of the match to her liking, Dawson heads for the cables again. She rebounds toward the wobbling platinum blonde.
Seemingly calling an audible when Kylie pivots on her approach for a pick-up, Charlie spins on reaching the champ and Ky snatches her around the waist. However, Kylie can’t fully control Charlie’s momentum.
VICTORY ROLL:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y7QSgqm9Ge8
The Sweetheart tucks her head and drops into a Victory Roll that pulls Ky off her feet, Sanders captured in a cradle for the…
ONE…
TWO…
VICTORY ROLL:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y7QSgqm9Ge8
Kylie kicks the slight Charlie off, Dawson sent stumbling a few feet forward before regaining her balance.
A wide-eyed Sanders scrambles to her feet, turning to find Charlotte, only to be decked by a dropkick to the chin. Ky struggles up at a significantly reduced pace and she’s met with a high knee from a Sweetheart on fire. Head snapping back from the impact to her chin, Kylie backpedals and tumbles to a seat against a neutral corner, lower back against the bottom buckle, abbreviated legs extended in front of her, head lolling.
The beloved, blue-eyed blonde raises an arm, drawing a roar from the crowd as she saunters to the corner farthest from Sanders. Shot out of a cannon, Charlie dashes toward the seated platinum blonde. Jasmine races toward the corner on the outside to pull her mentor out of range but Dawson beats her to the punch, or in this case, a wicked crossbody dive that CRUNCHES the champion with incredible force.
After the collision, Charlie snatches an ankle and pulls Ky a safe distance from the ropes. She hustles back to the corner, wanting to ascend but concerned about J-Dogg’s proximity. A safeguarding Mitchell backs Jazzy off and the golden-maned Sweetheart quickly takes her place on the heights of the top buckle. Measuring the still supine Sanders, Dawson leaps from her perch, but midway to whatever she had in mind, Ky raises her right leg. Charlotte tries to adjust, moving toward a vertical landing, but she still ‘eats’ Chill’s boot leather, her braincase snapping back from the impact.
Charlie staggers away from the collision, falling back into the corner from which she’d come. She massages her jaw as a recovering Kylie pushes to her feet. Forcing through the early beating she’s been provided, Sanders rushes to her foe, leaping from a few feet out and SPLASHING Charlie with all the mass and momentum the champ can muster.
It’s enough to blast Dawson into a semi-stupor. Ky pushes her by, Charlotte staggering to the center of the ring. Chill lets Charlie build some distance between them and turn before sprinting after her. Kylie lowers a shoulder and SPEARS the holy hell out Charlie Doll, Dawson’s ivory-skinned frame folding around Kylie’s right shoulder before she’s PLANTED into the canvas, left a groaning wreck, the tide most definitely turned.
The veteran passes on a pin attempt, surmising it’s too early, and instead moves to a standing forward straddle of the challenger. Gazing down with a burning hatred in her hazel eyes, Sanders leaps and double stomps Charlie’s chest, flattening bosom to breastbone. She grinds her soles into the thinly-sheathed, tender tissue before hopping into another body-jarring and breast-compressing double stomp, a brutal third edition finishing the display.
Standing atop the splayed Dawson, Sanders demands the count and the ref obliges, slapping the canvas for…
ONE…
TWO…
An already unsteady stance atop Dawson is ended when Charlie pushes a shoulder up and rolls to the side, Kylie stumbling off. She staggers to the ropes, catching herself and turning to watch her young challenger writhe on the canvas. The frantic rate of the title match seemingly wearing on the long-time grappler, Ky nevertheless pushes away from the ropes after a moment to catch her breath and launches over her foe, extending her legs to drop them like a pair of guillotines.
To the delight of the former Kylie Corps members in the audience, Charlie rolls clear and Sanders spikes her tailbone into the thinly-covered plywood. Face etched in pain, Ky comically butt-hops to get her hands beneath to provide a cushion for her throbbing derriere.
Meanwhile, an animated Skye encourages Charlie to her feet to keep things moving. Both blondes struggle to there, but it’s Charlie with the advantage in timing and clarity of purpose as she drives a toe kick deep into Kylie’s tummy, doubling the IC titleholder at the waist.
Charlotte grabs Kylie’s proffered noggin and twists so the women are back to back, the back of Kylie’s head drawn over the right shoulder of the Sweetheart. Instantly, Dawson drops to her backside, giving Chill’s neck a nasty snap.
HANGMAN’S NECKBREAKER @1:01:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=jtijMdvIfTQ
Instead of going for the pin, Dawson pivots and collects an arm of the champion. She folds the limb then surrounds it with a scissors,
SHORT ARM SCISSORS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=a4PHQ7lnvZg
Kylie shrieks to life as the FAWNatics erupt with a loud and sustained ‘TAP’ chant. As Jasmine screams at da fools to shut dere damn mouths, Ky howls in pain, shaking her head. Her free hand dips into her silvery bob and tugs at what hair is available. The veteran’s perfect pearlies clench as she fights through the pain enough to roll Charlotte into a position where she’s stacked on her shoulders for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Disappointed, Dawson gives up her submission to escape the pinning predicament. She scrambles to her feet and momentarily hovers next to the mewling Kylie, the platinum blonde cradling her aching wing as she sits up.
Charlie sends a soccer-style kick toward Ky’s chest, but Sanders drops to horizontal to avoid the boot. She rips the off-balance Dawson off her feet, tripping her to the deck and rolling Dawson up in a cradle, Ky’s chest pressed tight to the challenger’s upturned rump for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Chill can’t keep the flaxen-haired Sweetheart folded for the third slap and she’s sent sprawling when Charlotte forces her legs up and forward. Dawson uses the momentum not only to break free but join the champ in verticality. Both spin to face each other, poised but motionless, hazel eyes and baby blue intent on the other as the FAWNatics give each woman a hearty hand. Skye joins in, though it’s certain her ovation is for Charlotte only. Jasmine uses one of her hands to sweep under the ropes for Charlie’s ankles, but Dawson skips out of reach. Kylie gets a couple steps closer to her foe before the youngster resets and shows herself ready, dropping Sanders back into a standstill.
Each woman draws in deep breaths, chests heaving. They start to circle. Not wanting the veteran to regain energy she still has in abundance, Dawson shoots for some leg pick-ups, keeping the platinum blonde from getting too comfortable. One such effort draws an attempt at a side kick from Sanders that Charlie ducks under. The swing and miss leaves Kylie turned from Dawson and Charlie captures her slightly larger foe in a waistlock.
Kylie swings an elbow back from either side, but Dawson ducks her noggin out of the way on both attempts. Sliding alongside the champ, Dawson scoops Kylie up behind her knees and delivers her to the canvas with a rudimentary suplex. Simple as it is, getting dropped on her spine and the back of her braincase, Ky groans in pain, back arching as she cradles the back of her skull with both hands.
Chill doesn’t notice as Charlie gathers both of her ankles as the comparative newbie rises. Standing, she widens Kylie’s abbreviated, ivory stems. Sanders’ hazel peepers go wide, her palms pressing forward.
“Whoa there, little lady,” Kylie implores. “Let’s not do anything that would put you in a bad light or these people might turn on you.”
“Really?” Dawson retorts. “I believe I could Riverdance between your legs and I’d get a standing O.”
Charlie doesn’t follow through on that threat, but she does leap, legs extended inside those of Kylie, dropping her gams to not only slam them down atop Chill’s but also give Ky’s groin muscles an unwanted stretch. Sanders sits up from the pain, but with Charlie’s legs on top, keeping her somewhat distant, a right-handed swipe toward the face of the challenger comes up empty. Dawson folds her right leg and shoots it outward to stomp Kylie’s chest and send her rocketing to her back, the long-timer finding it very difficult to gather control from the precocious Sweetheart.
Sanders buttscoots away from the rising challenger on her palms and manages to roll out under the bottom rope before Charlotte can corral her. With Ky slumping Jasmine’s arms, the Carolina Cutie advances around the ring to persuade the champ to get back in before she can take a breather or worse beat a hasty retreat and retain with a countout loss. Mitchell blocks the escape path for Hot&Bothered, so Washington and an aching Chill huddle near the apron, discussing strategy.
“C’mon now girl,” Wash implores, “you got to get yo shyt togethAHHHHH!”
Jasmine’s advice turns to a howl as, from inside the ring, Charlie slips halfway through the ropes and latches one hand into Kylie’s silvery bob and the other into J-Dogg’s long ebony locks. She draws the heads of each team member back, but before she can create a meeting of the minds, Jasmine breaks free, cups her hands behind the lowered head of Charlie Doll and drops to her knees, hotshotting Charlie across the chest, sending her bouncing between top and middle cable before the challenger retreats toward center stage.
The ref chides Wash for interference, but Jazzy argues she’s the one who was attacked. The official gives her a pass for the surprisingly reasonable argument. One who doesn’t is Skye, who charges while Jasmine is busy with her debate and NAILS the African-American beauty with a dropkick that sends J-Dogg crashing into the steel barricade behind her. As Jasmine slides to a seat, face twisted in pain from the collision, Kylie decides it’s safer in the ring and scurries underneath the bottom rope.
She pushes to her feet only to see a charging Charlie. Dipping, she wraps her arms around the blonde’s thighs and lifts. Falling back, Kylie hotshots the Sweetheart again, this time her foe’s throat falling across the top rope. Dawson whiplashes away from the cable, gasping and bug-eyed, hands around her neck while Sanders struggles to one knee for a few extra breaths. She pushes up the rest of the way and, with J-Dogg barking attack orders, Ky races in from Charlie’s six. She snags the head of the challenger on the run-by and keeps sprinting with Dawson in tow in a side headlock.
Reaching the ropes, Sanders leaps. Her boot soles press into the uppermost cable as her legs fold. Kylie pushes out with the might she has remaining, sending titleholder and title-wanter in a u-turn and Chill plasters Charlie’s face into the deck with a beautiful springboard bulldog.
SPRINGBOARD BULLDOG:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gp4GBmGknas
Dawson flips to her back next to the seated Sanders. A wincing Chill raises to her knees and rubs her behind then delivers a wink and a wave to a concerned Skye.
“Tougher than you,” Kylie allows as she stands, “but then you’re a Mitchell so.”
“Yeah. Maybe she is,” the Li’lest Mitchell responds earnestly. “Good thing she’s on my side.”
Kylie rolls her eyes. She spins on a dime, thumping a boot into the right temple of Charlie, who’d made it to all fours. Dawson splatters to her back in a wide and groaning spreadeagle.
“Yeah. Good thing.”
Ky walks serenely to the grounded Sweetheart and genuflects into a knee drop to the gut of her challenger, forcing a moan and a slight jackknife from Sweet Charlotte. Sanders bounces up and repeats the process with her left leg, going a bit lower on her frame, devilishly close to below the belt, again drawing a deep guttural noise from Dawson as she rises into a pained ‘V’ shape. This time Kylie delivers a vicious forearm to the blonde’s jaw that leaves her prostrate once more.
“We should have been Queens,” Kylie growls. “You and Charlie Doll took that chance away from us.”
Sanders strides to a neutral corner and starts to climb.
“She’s gonna find out there’s consequences for keeping Kylie from what she wants.”
Chill looks out on the crowd as she stands on the top buckle.
“And if you really do give a damn about her, I guess there’s consequences for you too.”
Ky launches into a semi-graceful backflip. Sanders had never, could never, mature into another London and even some of the spring from an earlier version of the Hawkeye is gone, but she makes the full circuit over and CRASHES DOWN across Charlie’s open tummy, gutting her foe with a solid moonsault that packs considerably more punch than the earlier jabs from her knees.
The platinum blonde bounces off the ruined Charlie onto her haunches, giving herself a little embrace. She surveys the twitching remains and covers Dawson in a lateral press, counting down, or in this case up, to a successful defense with the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Dawson throws a shoulder up in the nick. Kylie, ejected to her haunches, slaps the canvas in frustration, staring at the official as Charlotte rolls to her chest and pushes to all fours.
“Don’t make it too obvious,” Ky advises. “I get their merch sales are up, but I’m a damn icon.”
Sanders rises to her feet beside her fellow blonde and sinks a set of nails into her foe’s scalp. She tugs Charlie up to her knees, but the Sweetheart brings a balled fist with her, sinking it into Sanders’ tummy. Ky doubles over, a large exhale bursting from her lips. Dawson delivers another and Kylie’s sent to tiptoes from the uppercut to her navel.
The flaxen-maned Sweetheart works her way to vertical with Vanilla Chill now the one slightly bent at the waist a couple steps removed from her young challenger. Charlie reaches for a tie-up and the Hawkeye sends a kick deep into Charlie’s alabaster tummy. Moving with precision, Ky digs both sets of nails into Dawson’s long golden locks. She leaps, extending her legs in a ‘V’ shape and sits out, DRIVING the flawless features of the Charlie Doll into the unforgiving deck with a sitout facebuster.
SITOUT FACEBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=sll-3Pm7RqM
With Charlie knocked silly and face down between her ivory stems, Sanders passes on rolling the challenger to her back and going for the pin. Instead, she pivots, travelling to a crouching forward straddle of Dawson’s lower spine. Leaning and reaching forward, the Iowan slips her arms under and around those of Charlie. She laces her fingers behind the neck of the Sweetheart, locking in a full nelson. Immediately, Sanders reverses her lean, yanking back on the lovable lightweight with a full nelson version of a camel clutch.
Simultaneously, Sanders and Washington demand the babyfaced blonde surrender in her attempt to remove the Intercontinental belt from the most hated woman in the organization. The fans and Skye have a different opinion, rhythmically clapping to keep Charlie’s fight alive. Five, ten, fifteen seconds it goes on. Finally, her aching limbs and the frustration of not forcing Dawson to give add up and Ky releases her nelson, instead SLAMMING Charlie’s face into the mat.
Dawson’s head bounces off the canvas in brutal fashion, the blonde’s hands flying to her face as she yelps in pain. A cramping Kylie stretches out her legs with a stroll around the mewling Sweetheart. Sanders kicks the cables in front of Mitchell as she passes.
“You ready to give her a pep talk after the match, runt?”
Skylar fumes, wanting so bad to get her hands on the woman with whom her sister made plenty of her career, Cynthia and Kylie playing both sides of the coin against each other over the years. Knowing what tonight means to her friend, the Li’lest Mitchell remains planted in place, scowling at the shiteating grin of the Hawkeye.
Satisfied, Ky turns back to the slowly rising challenger, Dawson exhibiting a toughness her cherubic adorability hid on occasion. With Charlie halfway to vertical, Ky intercedes, drawing the still dipped blonde into a rancorous front facelock. Reaching for a handful of spandex on Dawson’s hip, Chill elevates America’s Sweetheart. Stalling her boot soles at 12 o’clock high, Kylie enjoys the momentary feeling of a destroyer-class against the diminutive Dawson. She holds Sweet Charlotte elevated for several seconds before pivoting and dropping her foe’s shins across the top rope.
Using the spring of the cable, Kylie shoots Charlie up and over with the slingshot effect, THUMPING spine to canvas with a perfectly played suplex. Dawson’s back bends in agony as her spine curls in reaction to the impact. The Hawkeye spins to a kneeling position at the crown of Charlie’s skull, Dawson’s head pushed slightly between her foe’s parted knees. Ky forces the full cheeks of her foe together between thumb and forefinger, forcing a ‘fishface’ from the perpetually pouty-lipped Charlie.
“Pucker up,” Ky demands. “You’re kissing both your ass and your title chances away on the same night.”
Kylie starts to scoot her ass forward, appearing to take a page out of Portia VanBuren’s old playbook as she snuggles her undercarriage over the sputtering face of the challenger, perhaps going for her own modified version of a 911. But before Sanders can get fully settled, desperation proves fruitful for Dawson. The buried blonde gets her hands up, digging them into Kylie’s sides and pushing forward. That combined with a spastic buck of her hips, sends Ky flopping forward.
Not only does the Hawkeye CRASH onto her chest, Chill’s ivory frame draped down that of Charlie, but her noggin ends between Charlie’s stems and Charlotte instantly snaps the limbs shut around the temples of FAWN’s most hated. The Sweetheart locks her legs at the ankles and pours the pressure into the crushing power of her thighs. Wrapping her arms around the pit of both Kylie’s knees, Dawson remains below the writhing Kylie. Dawson shifts both of Ky’s stems to the side so she doesn’t end in an identical scissored predicament. The move of her foe’s gams also lets Dawson to raise a shoulder when the ref notices both on the canvas despite her control.
Alarm grows as Sanders continues to struggle for her freedom. Elfin features pointed to the canvas, the back of her silvery bob poking out from between Dawson’s straining legs. Charlotte lifts her scissoring legs and slams them to the canvas, clunking Ky’s face and forehead into the deck between. America’s Sweetheart and perhaps next Intercontinental champion, repeats the process a second and third time, the newly minted Charlie Corps roaring to life as Chill’s noggin gets knocked into the plywood time and time again until her writhing arms wilt.
Dawson releases her scissors and rolls the semiconscious champion to her back. Scooting to a seated position, Kylie’s legs in her possession and pointed to the rafters, the Hawkeye’s torso and arms in a single file reaching from between Charlie’s legs and beyond, Sanders’ shoulders conspicuously on the canvas for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOO!
The crowd groans in unreserved disappointment as the stubborn Chill thrusts a shoulder off the canvas with the ref’s final slap a few inches away.
Dawson kips to her feet, showing the spring and wind of a woman barely in her twenties. As she leads the crowd in a rhythmic clap, the comparatively aged Sanders struggles to her feet, wobbling like a reed in the wind. Seeing Chill on her boot soles, Sweet Charlotte turns and leaps into the middle ropes. She flies into the Orlando airspace with a springboard crossbody the similarly diminutive Kylie has no chance in countering.
SPRINGBOARD CROSSBODY:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=gwDZimBVsFM
Charlie flattens the champ to the canvas, smashing the Hawkeye. She ends in a lateral press of the demolished platinum blonde and hooks a flaccid leg for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOO!
Skye can’t help but cry out in frustration, slapping the canvas on the sidelines. Across the way, Jasmine swipes her long ebony locks off her forehead, a huge sigh escaping her lips. In the ring, the challenger seems less concerned. She pushes to her feet, tugging the increasingly ragdolled titleholder with her, Sanders wearing down under the unrelenting pressure. Charlie draws Ky to the ropes with a front facelock then uses the middle rope as a stepping stone to hop into a guillotine choke of the fading Hawkeye.
GUILLOTINE CHOKE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=3SHfJ-W02O0
Dawson wraps her legs rigid around Sanders’ back, gluing herself to Kylie with her grip cinching tighter, closing Chill’s windpipe. Kylie staggers around the ring, putting out max effort to simply stay vertical, for if she falls now, she’d likely wake up a former champion.
Jasmine seems to realize and hops to the apron. The official doesn’t immediately realize, but Skylar does. She sidles around the corner and takes J-Dogg’s stems out from under her, Washington dropping to a chin-first landing on the deck. Her head snapping back from the impact, Jazzy ends splayed on the floor to the roar of the crowd, all the tumblers clicking into place for the upset the Charlie Corps craves.
The celebration proves a bit premature when Sanders is able to carry Charlie to a corner and create a makeshift splash against the buckles. One is all it takes for Dawson to drop off her foe’s back. She slips out from behind Sanders with relatively little damage done.
Grabbing Kylie by her short silvery bob, the Sweetheart turns Kylie to face the corner and POUNDS Chill’s forehead and elfin features into the top buckle TIME AND TIME AND TIME AGAIN. The FAWNatics count up to a full ‘TEN’, Ky left a hot mess as she’s spun to face the challenger. Sanders can offer little response as Dawson scoops her up to a seat on the top buckle.
Moving to center stage, Charlie turns and races to her seated foe, ably climbing to the middle ropes in a stance in front of the champ. With Kylie’s arms leaden at her sides, America’s Sweetheart wraps her hands around the back of Sanders’ noggin and leaps backward, drawing Kylie with her, Ky careening to the canvas courtesy Charlie’s signature East Mountains Facebuster.
EAST MOUNTAINS FACEBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=-mBTRwzhaPY
Dawson winces, grabbing at her tailbone and giving a rub while the platinum blonde is apparently out cold, face down and twitching. As Skye, back in her partner’s corner, shouts at Charlie to cover, a recovered Jasmine reaches in under the ropes and snatches an ankle of her teammate. The café-au-lait-skinned grappler begins to slide the ruined IC champ toward the ropes, but the ref kicks J-Dogg’s paw free, Jasmine yelping as she shakes out her stinging hand.
Meanwhile, Charlie grabs a wrist and tugs Sanders dead center cavewoman-style. She spins the champion to her back and coats herself atop what’s left of FAWN’s most hated. The crowd chants along in glorious delight for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREENOOO!
The zebra’s hand is so close he has to reassure himself he hasn’t hit canvas for the third time and this one has Dawson’s baby blues bugging as she rises to her haunches in utter disbelief.
“No,” she manages to squeak.
“I swear, Charlie,” the ref responds.
Dawson shakes her head and steals a glance at Mitchell who, for a moment can’t offer any heartwarming enthusiasm as she stands mouth agape and shrugging.
“Do it, sweetheart,” she finally yells.
Charlotte nods, dimples flashing as the sweat-soaked cutie pushes wearily to vertical and stumbles to the nearest corner. She ascends slowly and carefully, though much more quickly than an awakening Kylie. The zombie-like Hawkeye makes a glassy-eyed stance, unsure where her challenger is and seemingly unaware where she is.
Dawson waits crouched for the ultimate leap of her career and a game-changing Charlie Cutter.
CHARLIE CUTTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=P53Lflg9OC0
The youngster launches into the void, reaching for Kylie’s braincase, when Sanders, on instinct, throws herself out of reach. Dawson crashes and burns on impact, completely off balance with her target gone. She THUMPS into the deck from a stratospheric height, Skye looking away, hearing the collision even more than her bestie would prefer.
Leaning heavily against the ropes, Kylie barely has the energy to point an index finger at her right temple, but she manages so everyone knows her intellect is unmatched, Emily West included.
But the veteran isn’t done. With the jeers egging her on, Kylie pushes away from her protection and reaches the slowly rising challenger. Ky digs a toe kick deep into her foe’s alabaster tummy then tugs the Sweetheart’s cranium between her legs. Kylie wraps her arms around the gulping belly of the youngster and digs deep into her remaining reserves, lifting Dawson so the crown of her skull is pointed to the earth. Ky shifts her grip to around Charlotte’s right leg and flips the world on its head by planting Charlie on hers with a cradle piledriver.
CRADLE PILEDRIVER @0:06:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=BonKBv_QFFk
Kylie, in a flaccid seat next to obliterated Dawson, leans/falls to the right and across Dawson’s chest for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
It’s the challenger’s turn to amaze with a kickout that has Kylie in the edge of tears and Jasmine mid-meltdown.
“No, no, no,” Chill pleads more than insists, but the official shakes his head and holds up two fingers.
A red-faced Sanders tugs the limp Sweetheart up with her and slips an arm between the legs of the deadweight. The grind of the match shows as it takes all of Kylie’s effort to pop Charlie across her shoulders in a fireman’s carry, the crowd silenced by the approaching Chilly Valley Driver.
CHILLY VALLEY DRIVER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=cIRSL_p7klg
But before Ky can deliver the coup de grace, a waking Dawson supplies a couple sharpened elbows to the veteran’s right temple and the distracted Hawkeye lets Charlie slip out the back door. Charlotte slides down Ky’s frame, pulling her over into a small package for the…
ONE…
TWO…
With the ref on his chest, ready for slap number three, Jasmine reaches under the ropes and provides a felonious tipping point, pushing the entwined blondes so it’s Charlie with her shoulders on the canvas.
As a furious Skye desperately points out the assist from J-Dogg, the ref claps the mat for…
ONE…
TWO…
And THREEE!
Vanilla Chill immediately untangles from the ball of blondes and hightails it out under the bottom rope, falling into the arms of her partner.
As Skylar slides in and argues with the clueless official, Charlie gazes up at the man and then the delighted Kylie with wide, disbelieving eyes. Shoulder to shoulder, Washington helps the depleted titleholder to her prize and the announcer makes it official.
“Your winner…and STILL Intercontinental Champion…Kylie Sanders!”
The crowd’s ferocity is unchecked and Mitchell’s frustration nearly is, but she turns away from the departing ref to console an incredulous Charlie.
Kylie, belt in her grasp, backpedals up the ramp with another assist from J-Dogg.
“Go back to the nursery and cry your little eyes out,” she screams at the Sweethearts.
“Ain’t no one knows how to beat the Chill this year!”
The vast majority of the FAWNatics erupt in cheers at those words. But the identity of the current title holder proves more than sufficient to draw a chorus of boos, and already an attempt by one inebriated fan to prematurely initiate a chant of “TROLL!”
“Introducing first, the challenger,” the man in the tux resumes. “Hailing from Spokane, Washington by way of Albuquerque, New Mexico, she weighs in this evening at one hundred and twelve pounds ... Ladies and gentlemen, would you please give a warm Orlando welcome to… CHHHAAARRRLLLIIIEEE DAAAWWWSSSOOONNN!!!!!”
CHARLIE DAWSON:
”STYLE”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=-CmadmM5cOk
The FAWNatics do just that, turning things up to eleven as Taylor Swift’s ‘Style’ begins to play over the sound system. And, just a couple of moments later, a stunning, bedimpled young blonde bursts through the curtains. Once the beaming Dawson arrives, however, the crowd remarkably manages to raise the decibel meter further still! And yet... despite the FAWN Arena’s capacity dwarfing the Left Turn, Charlie’s “first home” in her wrestling career, by a factor of HUNDREDS to one, somehow their roar didn’t feel QUITE as loud to Dawson. But that doesn’t stop the youngster from bringing her hands up to her ears, covering them as if the roar might be painful--but the smile that remained planted on Charlie’s lips illustrated just how much she’s enjoying the moment. Blushing, the blonde motioned downward with her hands...
SKYE MITCHELL:
But the capacity crowd would have none of it--especially not with her tag team partner, Skylar Mitchell, standing behind her, waving her hands UPWARD frantically, beckoning the FAWNatics to keep the love coming. As frenetic as Skylar’s arms are moving, perhaps Charlie spots a bit of a blur out of the corner of her eye, prompting her to spin around...
The kid might be quick, but not quick enough. By the time she’s facing Skye, her fellow youngster’s hands are clasped behind her back, and she looks up toward the lights, whistling in pure innocence.
Charlie shakes her head at her partner before turning and taking off toward the ring. Skylar followed suit almost immediately. The Sweethearts make it a point to slap EVERY single hand offered her way--and ESPECIALLY the younger ones.
Finally, the Darling of the Desert Southwest slides under the bottom rope, springing to her feet, the Li’lest Mitchell content to remain at ringside and let her friend and partner soak in the adulation alone. Dawson unzips her hot pink hoodie, slipping it off to reveal a light blue fightin’ two piece that, in spite of its somewhat modest and innocent cut still managed to raise the blood pressure of quite a few spectators. For her part, down on the floor, Skye notices that one of the ringside cameramen happens to be positioned VERY close to her. And so, she turns, drawing his attention as she STARTS to unzip her hoodie, drawing the zipper down JUUUST enough to tease a hint of the royal purple lycra bikini top underneath…
… but then, with a wink and a smile, Mitchell pulls the zipper back up. With anyone else, such a gesture might have earned a little heat. Skye just made it seem adorable.
As her music fades, Charlie takes up position in her corner, stretching and loosening up as her mind contemplates the coming match up. As young as she might be, Dawson is well enough aware of FAWN’s history to also be aware of the comparisons many a FAWNatic have drawn, both in online forums and in one-on-one conversations with her, between Charlie today and the woman she was about to face, at the start of her career. And she understood FAWN history well enough to know that, even in her days when she occupied a space in the FAWNatics’ hearts similar to the one Dawson has been laying claim to, young Kylie Sanders’ reputation as something of a welcome mat had never been fully deserved. She had always presented a formidable challenge to anyone aiming to take her down, and had earned her place as a FAWN legend and icon long before her change of heart made her even more formidable and dangerous…
… but she COULD be beaten. Skylar Mitchell had demonstrated that herself, not so very long ago. And tonight, it would be Charlie’s turn.
The platinum blonde pixie from hell watches on the monitor backstage as Charlie and the woman who’s quickly becoming her least favorite Mitchell revel in the FAWNatics’ love.
KYLIE SANDERS:
“I don’t f’n believe this,” Sanders says to the screen before turning to her partner. “First that bytch Cynthia grabs gold with that Southern-fried floozy from Alabama and now these two sweeeeethearts.”
Sanders’ voice drips with hateful syrupy saccharinity.
“They’re becoming burrs under my butt, under our butt.”
JASMINE WASHINGTON:
“You best not be sayin’ it’s my fault we lost to dem, Chill,” Jasmine growls. “I’m pretty sure Mitchell pinned yo ass.”
“I didn’t say, shyt” Sanders demurs. “But what I AM sayin’ is you got my back. Right, Dogg?.”
Jasmine nods at the FAWN original.
“I gotcha,” Washington assures. “Now tear Da Man’s baby doll a new one.”
The Hawkeye gives the faceplate of the Intercontinental belt strapped around her waist a slap then heads to the bowl when Iggy and Charlie (the good Charlie) belt H&B’s anthem ‘Fancy’ throughout the arena.
”FANCY”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=O-zpOMYRi0w
Chill and J-Dogg push through the curtain and stride to center stage, Washington at the champ’s right hand.
Having traded in her Louis Vuitton clutch for FAWN’s Intercontinental belt, Kylie’s title gold prompted a makeover drawing on echoes of her original gear. Sanders sports a unique, multi-strapped yellow-gold sports bra topside with black boy-cut shorts, black boots and pads.
(https://www.yandy.com/Multi-Strapped-Microfiber-Sports-Bra.php )
On the FAWNtron behind her, ‘‘VANILLA CHILL IN DA HOUSE BYTCHES!’ appears in ten-foot high, gold letters. Jazzy shows Sanders off, the Nubian beauty raising a wrist of the former fan favorite, the boos falling like a downpour.
Vanilla Chill smirks at the Orlando lowlifes as the women head down the ramp and aisle together, Washington talking shyt about everyone and everything, including the woman in the ring.
Reaching the squared circle, Sanders dabs her partner, the Hawkeye sharing a moment with her teammate.
“Keep that Mitchell runt off me,” Ky demands. “I want to beat on that Charlie doll morning, noon, and night.”
The elfin blonde turns a much sterner gaze to the multitudes heaping their disdain and tossing less than complimentary remarks at the turncoat.
Becoming agitated when a ‘TROLL’ chant breaks out, Kylie heads up the steps, leaving J-Dogg to her station on the outside, Washington dressed in a tiny black hoodie, (black version of the following: i2.photobucket.com/albums/y32/biggerb/Jasmine-clothing.jpg~original ), the grappler snapping her head back to clear the hood from her cranium and shoulder-length ebony locks. Beneath Jazzy wears camo boy-cut trunks ( s2.photobucket.com/user/biggerb/media/Jasmine-clothing%20below.jpg.html ) which accentuate her bootylicious backside.
As Sanders moves to the middle, the ring announcer picks up his cue.
“AND her opponent. From da space where Da Man ain’t got no place…standing five feet four inches tall and weighing in at 112 pounds…FAWN’s Intercontinental Champion…Vanilla Chill…Kylie Sanders!”
Ky, stick already in hand, waves at the crowd to shut the hell up. They only turn up the volume of their hatred. Sanders shoves the belt overhead and the “TROLL” chant starts anew and when Skye and Charlie join in, the Pleasant Valley Pariah turns from flushed to furious.
“I’M GOING TO TURN YOU INSIDE OUT!” Kylie screams at Dawson. “I’M GOD’S GIFT TO THIS HELLHOLE. I AM NOT A…”
Sanders manages to stop before saying the word, but the fans end the rhyme.
“TROLL…TROLL…TROLL”.
A flustered Sanders throws the microphone away drawing a momentary cheer but the chant quickly returns, Kylie covering her ears.
Many in the audience lift sticks with a little troll dolls strung from the end, usually around the neck but occasionally by the ankle for the more squeamish.
Sanders stomps to her corner. With Jasmine now on the apron, Wash fashions her hands into muffs over Kylie’s to try and prevent Chill from the audible assault.
“SHUT YO DAMN MOUTHS!” J-Dogg insists, but the assembled chant on until Washington and Mitchell drop to the floor and the zebra calls for the bell.
The two diminutive blondes, separated by a metric ton of experience and accomplishment, circle the ring before coming together in a collar-and-elbow. Sanders quickly pivots and tugs Dawson into a side headlock, grinding her foe’s noggin against her hip.
“Fluke,” Chill shouts to the front rows, presumably referring to the loss America’s Sweethearts placed on Hot&Bothered in the 2017 Queens of the Ring tourney. Jasmine turns and nods at the crowd.
“Da Man knows it and you all damn well know it too.”
While Washington lets her opinion be known, Charlie moves her hands to Kylie’s hips and shoves the champ off, Sanders taking the momentum to the ropes. She bounds into the cables and speeds back toward the waiting Charlotte. Racing headlong toward her foe, Ky finds herself racing beneath when Charlie leapfrogs the sprinting Sanders.
Kylie hits her second set of ropes and returns toward a spinning Charlie who brings a leg lariat with her rotation. Dawson’s alabaster right stem CRASHES into Kylie’s collarbone, sending her splattering to the canvas, back hitting heavy against the canvas.
Ky bounces up to a seated position from the force of the impact and, Charlie, on her feet in an instant, is racing to the cables in front of the dazed Sanders. Dawson is a blur as she shoots out of the strands and NAILS the Pleasant Valley Pariah with a dropkick to the chest that flattens Kylie to the deck. Taking a shot at a quick win, the Sweetheart dives atop the splayed Sanders, hooking a leg with a lateral press for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Chill kicks free at the concerned urging of her partner. In the opposite corner, Skye gives an encouraging ovation to her teammate. Dawson responds by snatching her foe by the head and tugging Sanders to her feet. Wanting to keep the pace of the match to her liking, Dawson heads for the cables again. She rebounds toward the wobbling platinum blonde.
Seemingly calling an audible when Kylie pivots on her approach for a pick-up, Charlie spins on reaching the champ and Ky snatches her around the waist. However, Kylie can’t fully control Charlie’s momentum.
VICTORY ROLL:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y7QSgqm9Ge8
The Sweetheart tucks her head and drops into a Victory Roll that pulls Ky off her feet, Sanders captured in a cradle for the…
ONE…
TWO…
VICTORY ROLL:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y7QSgqm9Ge8
Kylie kicks the slight Charlie off, Dawson sent stumbling a few feet forward before regaining her balance.
A wide-eyed Sanders scrambles to her feet, turning to find Charlotte, only to be decked by a dropkick to the chin. Ky struggles up at a significantly reduced pace and she’s met with a high knee from a Sweetheart on fire. Head snapping back from the impact to her chin, Kylie backpedals and tumbles to a seat against a neutral corner, lower back against the bottom buckle, abbreviated legs extended in front of her, head lolling.
The beloved, blue-eyed blonde raises an arm, drawing a roar from the crowd as she saunters to the corner farthest from Sanders. Shot out of a cannon, Charlie dashes toward the seated platinum blonde. Jasmine races toward the corner on the outside to pull her mentor out of range but Dawson beats her to the punch, or in this case, a wicked crossbody dive that CRUNCHES the champion with incredible force.
After the collision, Charlie snatches an ankle and pulls Ky a safe distance from the ropes. She hustles back to the corner, wanting to ascend but concerned about J-Dogg’s proximity. A safeguarding Mitchell backs Jazzy off and the golden-maned Sweetheart quickly takes her place on the heights of the top buckle. Measuring the still supine Sanders, Dawson leaps from her perch, but midway to whatever she had in mind, Ky raises her right leg. Charlotte tries to adjust, moving toward a vertical landing, but she still ‘eats’ Chill’s boot leather, her braincase snapping back from the impact.
Charlie staggers away from the collision, falling back into the corner from which she’d come. She massages her jaw as a recovering Kylie pushes to her feet. Forcing through the early beating she’s been provided, Sanders rushes to her foe, leaping from a few feet out and SPLASHING Charlie with all the mass and momentum the champ can muster.
It’s enough to blast Dawson into a semi-stupor. Ky pushes her by, Charlotte staggering to the center of the ring. Chill lets Charlie build some distance between them and turn before sprinting after her. Kylie lowers a shoulder and SPEARS the holy hell out Charlie Doll, Dawson’s ivory-skinned frame folding around Kylie’s right shoulder before she’s PLANTED into the canvas, left a groaning wreck, the tide most definitely turned.
The veteran passes on a pin attempt, surmising it’s too early, and instead moves to a standing forward straddle of the challenger. Gazing down with a burning hatred in her hazel eyes, Sanders leaps and double stomps Charlie’s chest, flattening bosom to breastbone. She grinds her soles into the thinly-sheathed, tender tissue before hopping into another body-jarring and breast-compressing double stomp, a brutal third edition finishing the display.
Standing atop the splayed Dawson, Sanders demands the count and the ref obliges, slapping the canvas for…
ONE…
TWO…
An already unsteady stance atop Dawson is ended when Charlie pushes a shoulder up and rolls to the side, Kylie stumbling off. She staggers to the ropes, catching herself and turning to watch her young challenger writhe on the canvas. The frantic rate of the title match seemingly wearing on the long-time grappler, Ky nevertheless pushes away from the ropes after a moment to catch her breath and launches over her foe, extending her legs to drop them like a pair of guillotines.
To the delight of the former Kylie Corps members in the audience, Charlie rolls clear and Sanders spikes her tailbone into the thinly-covered plywood. Face etched in pain, Ky comically butt-hops to get her hands beneath to provide a cushion for her throbbing derriere.
Meanwhile, an animated Skye encourages Charlie to her feet to keep things moving. Both blondes struggle to there, but it’s Charlie with the advantage in timing and clarity of purpose as she drives a toe kick deep into Kylie’s tummy, doubling the IC titleholder at the waist.
Charlotte grabs Kylie’s proffered noggin and twists so the women are back to back, the back of Kylie’s head drawn over the right shoulder of the Sweetheart. Instantly, Dawson drops to her backside, giving Chill’s neck a nasty snap.
HANGMAN’S NECKBREAKER @1:01:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=jtijMdvIfTQ
Instead of going for the pin, Dawson pivots and collects an arm of the champion. She folds the limb then surrounds it with a scissors,
SHORT ARM SCISSORS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=a4PHQ7lnvZg
Kylie shrieks to life as the FAWNatics erupt with a loud and sustained ‘TAP’ chant. As Jasmine screams at da fools to shut dere damn mouths, Ky howls in pain, shaking her head. Her free hand dips into her silvery bob and tugs at what hair is available. The veteran’s perfect pearlies clench as she fights through the pain enough to roll Charlotte into a position where she’s stacked on her shoulders for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Disappointed, Dawson gives up her submission to escape the pinning predicament. She scrambles to her feet and momentarily hovers next to the mewling Kylie, the platinum blonde cradling her aching wing as she sits up.
Charlie sends a soccer-style kick toward Ky’s chest, but Sanders drops to horizontal to avoid the boot. She rips the off-balance Dawson off her feet, tripping her to the deck and rolling Dawson up in a cradle, Ky’s chest pressed tight to the challenger’s upturned rump for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Chill can’t keep the flaxen-haired Sweetheart folded for the third slap and she’s sent sprawling when Charlotte forces her legs up and forward. Dawson uses the momentum not only to break free but join the champ in verticality. Both spin to face each other, poised but motionless, hazel eyes and baby blue intent on the other as the FAWNatics give each woman a hearty hand. Skye joins in, though it’s certain her ovation is for Charlotte only. Jasmine uses one of her hands to sweep under the ropes for Charlie’s ankles, but Dawson skips out of reach. Kylie gets a couple steps closer to her foe before the youngster resets and shows herself ready, dropping Sanders back into a standstill.
Each woman draws in deep breaths, chests heaving. They start to circle. Not wanting the veteran to regain energy she still has in abundance, Dawson shoots for some leg pick-ups, keeping the platinum blonde from getting too comfortable. One such effort draws an attempt at a side kick from Sanders that Charlie ducks under. The swing and miss leaves Kylie turned from Dawson and Charlie captures her slightly larger foe in a waistlock.
Kylie swings an elbow back from either side, but Dawson ducks her noggin out of the way on both attempts. Sliding alongside the champ, Dawson scoops Kylie up behind her knees and delivers her to the canvas with a rudimentary suplex. Simple as it is, getting dropped on her spine and the back of her braincase, Ky groans in pain, back arching as she cradles the back of her skull with both hands.
Chill doesn’t notice as Charlie gathers both of her ankles as the comparative newbie rises. Standing, she widens Kylie’s abbreviated, ivory stems. Sanders’ hazel peepers go wide, her palms pressing forward.
“Whoa there, little lady,” Kylie implores. “Let’s not do anything that would put you in a bad light or these people might turn on you.”
“Really?” Dawson retorts. “I believe I could Riverdance between your legs and I’d get a standing O.”
Charlie doesn’t follow through on that threat, but she does leap, legs extended inside those of Kylie, dropping her gams to not only slam them down atop Chill’s but also give Ky’s groin muscles an unwanted stretch. Sanders sits up from the pain, but with Charlie’s legs on top, keeping her somewhat distant, a right-handed swipe toward the face of the challenger comes up empty. Dawson folds her right leg and shoots it outward to stomp Kylie’s chest and send her rocketing to her back, the long-timer finding it very difficult to gather control from the precocious Sweetheart.
Sanders buttscoots away from the rising challenger on her palms and manages to roll out under the bottom rope before Charlotte can corral her. With Ky slumping Jasmine’s arms, the Carolina Cutie advances around the ring to persuade the champ to get back in before she can take a breather or worse beat a hasty retreat and retain with a countout loss. Mitchell blocks the escape path for Hot&Bothered, so Washington and an aching Chill huddle near the apron, discussing strategy.
“C’mon now girl,” Wash implores, “you got to get yo shyt togethAHHHHH!”
Jasmine’s advice turns to a howl as, from inside the ring, Charlie slips halfway through the ropes and latches one hand into Kylie’s silvery bob and the other into J-Dogg’s long ebony locks. She draws the heads of each team member back, but before she can create a meeting of the minds, Jasmine breaks free, cups her hands behind the lowered head of Charlie Doll and drops to her knees, hotshotting Charlie across the chest, sending her bouncing between top and middle cable before the challenger retreats toward center stage.
The ref chides Wash for interference, but Jazzy argues she’s the one who was attacked. The official gives her a pass for the surprisingly reasonable argument. One who doesn’t is Skye, who charges while Jasmine is busy with her debate and NAILS the African-American beauty with a dropkick that sends J-Dogg crashing into the steel barricade behind her. As Jasmine slides to a seat, face twisted in pain from the collision, Kylie decides it’s safer in the ring and scurries underneath the bottom rope.
She pushes to her feet only to see a charging Charlie. Dipping, she wraps her arms around the blonde’s thighs and lifts. Falling back, Kylie hotshots the Sweetheart again, this time her foe’s throat falling across the top rope. Dawson whiplashes away from the cable, gasping and bug-eyed, hands around her neck while Sanders struggles to one knee for a few extra breaths. She pushes up the rest of the way and, with J-Dogg barking attack orders, Ky races in from Charlie’s six. She snags the head of the challenger on the run-by and keeps sprinting with Dawson in tow in a side headlock.
Reaching the ropes, Sanders leaps. Her boot soles press into the uppermost cable as her legs fold. Kylie pushes out with the might she has remaining, sending titleholder and title-wanter in a u-turn and Chill plasters Charlie’s face into the deck with a beautiful springboard bulldog.
SPRINGBOARD BULLDOG:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gp4GBmGknas
Dawson flips to her back next to the seated Sanders. A wincing Chill raises to her knees and rubs her behind then delivers a wink and a wave to a concerned Skye.
“Tougher than you,” Kylie allows as she stands, “but then you’re a Mitchell so.”
“Yeah. Maybe she is,” the Li’lest Mitchell responds earnestly. “Good thing she’s on my side.”
Kylie rolls her eyes. She spins on a dime, thumping a boot into the right temple of Charlie, who’d made it to all fours. Dawson splatters to her back in a wide and groaning spreadeagle.
“Yeah. Good thing.”
Ky walks serenely to the grounded Sweetheart and genuflects into a knee drop to the gut of her challenger, forcing a moan and a slight jackknife from Sweet Charlotte. Sanders bounces up and repeats the process with her left leg, going a bit lower on her frame, devilishly close to below the belt, again drawing a deep guttural noise from Dawson as she rises into a pained ‘V’ shape. This time Kylie delivers a vicious forearm to the blonde’s jaw that leaves her prostrate once more.
“We should have been Queens,” Kylie growls. “You and Charlie Doll took that chance away from us.”
Sanders strides to a neutral corner and starts to climb.
“She’s gonna find out there’s consequences for keeping Kylie from what she wants.”
Chill looks out on the crowd as she stands on the top buckle.
“And if you really do give a damn about her, I guess there’s consequences for you too.”
Ky launches into a semi-graceful backflip. Sanders had never, could never, mature into another London and even some of the spring from an earlier version of the Hawkeye is gone, but she makes the full circuit over and CRASHES DOWN across Charlie’s open tummy, gutting her foe with a solid moonsault that packs considerably more punch than the earlier jabs from her knees.
The platinum blonde bounces off the ruined Charlie onto her haunches, giving herself a little embrace. She surveys the twitching remains and covers Dawson in a lateral press, counting down, or in this case up, to a successful defense with the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Dawson throws a shoulder up in the nick. Kylie, ejected to her haunches, slaps the canvas in frustration, staring at the official as Charlotte rolls to her chest and pushes to all fours.
“Don’t make it too obvious,” Ky advises. “I get their merch sales are up, but I’m a damn icon.”
Sanders rises to her feet beside her fellow blonde and sinks a set of nails into her foe’s scalp. She tugs Charlie up to her knees, but the Sweetheart brings a balled fist with her, sinking it into Sanders’ tummy. Ky doubles over, a large exhale bursting from her lips. Dawson delivers another and Kylie’s sent to tiptoes from the uppercut to her navel.
The flaxen-maned Sweetheart works her way to vertical with Vanilla Chill now the one slightly bent at the waist a couple steps removed from her young challenger. Charlie reaches for a tie-up and the Hawkeye sends a kick deep into Charlie’s alabaster tummy. Moving with precision, Ky digs both sets of nails into Dawson’s long golden locks. She leaps, extending her legs in a ‘V’ shape and sits out, DRIVING the flawless features of the Charlie Doll into the unforgiving deck with a sitout facebuster.
SITOUT FACEBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=sll-3Pm7RqM
With Charlie knocked silly and face down between her ivory stems, Sanders passes on rolling the challenger to her back and going for the pin. Instead, she pivots, travelling to a crouching forward straddle of Dawson’s lower spine. Leaning and reaching forward, the Iowan slips her arms under and around those of Charlie. She laces her fingers behind the neck of the Sweetheart, locking in a full nelson. Immediately, Sanders reverses her lean, yanking back on the lovable lightweight with a full nelson version of a camel clutch.
Simultaneously, Sanders and Washington demand the babyfaced blonde surrender in her attempt to remove the Intercontinental belt from the most hated woman in the organization. The fans and Skye have a different opinion, rhythmically clapping to keep Charlie’s fight alive. Five, ten, fifteen seconds it goes on. Finally, her aching limbs and the frustration of not forcing Dawson to give add up and Ky releases her nelson, instead SLAMMING Charlie’s face into the mat.
Dawson’s head bounces off the canvas in brutal fashion, the blonde’s hands flying to her face as she yelps in pain. A cramping Kylie stretches out her legs with a stroll around the mewling Sweetheart. Sanders kicks the cables in front of Mitchell as she passes.
“You ready to give her a pep talk after the match, runt?”
Skylar fumes, wanting so bad to get her hands on the woman with whom her sister made plenty of her career, Cynthia and Kylie playing both sides of the coin against each other over the years. Knowing what tonight means to her friend, the Li’lest Mitchell remains planted in place, scowling at the shiteating grin of the Hawkeye.
Satisfied, Ky turns back to the slowly rising challenger, Dawson exhibiting a toughness her cherubic adorability hid on occasion. With Charlie halfway to vertical, Ky intercedes, drawing the still dipped blonde into a rancorous front facelock. Reaching for a handful of spandex on Dawson’s hip, Chill elevates America’s Sweetheart. Stalling her boot soles at 12 o’clock high, Kylie enjoys the momentary feeling of a destroyer-class against the diminutive Dawson. She holds Sweet Charlotte elevated for several seconds before pivoting and dropping her foe’s shins across the top rope.
Using the spring of the cable, Kylie shoots Charlie up and over with the slingshot effect, THUMPING spine to canvas with a perfectly played suplex. Dawson’s back bends in agony as her spine curls in reaction to the impact. The Hawkeye spins to a kneeling position at the crown of Charlie’s skull, Dawson’s head pushed slightly between her foe’s parted knees. Ky forces the full cheeks of her foe together between thumb and forefinger, forcing a ‘fishface’ from the perpetually pouty-lipped Charlie.
“Pucker up,” Ky demands. “You’re kissing both your ass and your title chances away on the same night.”
Kylie starts to scoot her ass forward, appearing to take a page out of Portia VanBuren’s old playbook as she snuggles her undercarriage over the sputtering face of the challenger, perhaps going for her own modified version of a 911. But before Sanders can get fully settled, desperation proves fruitful for Dawson. The buried blonde gets her hands up, digging them into Kylie’s sides and pushing forward. That combined with a spastic buck of her hips, sends Ky flopping forward.
Not only does the Hawkeye CRASH onto her chest, Chill’s ivory frame draped down that of Charlie, but her noggin ends between Charlie’s stems and Charlotte instantly snaps the limbs shut around the temples of FAWN’s most hated. The Sweetheart locks her legs at the ankles and pours the pressure into the crushing power of her thighs. Wrapping her arms around the pit of both Kylie’s knees, Dawson remains below the writhing Kylie. Dawson shifts both of Ky’s stems to the side so she doesn’t end in an identical scissored predicament. The move of her foe’s gams also lets Dawson to raise a shoulder when the ref notices both on the canvas despite her control.
Alarm grows as Sanders continues to struggle for her freedom. Elfin features pointed to the canvas, the back of her silvery bob poking out from between Dawson’s straining legs. Charlotte lifts her scissoring legs and slams them to the canvas, clunking Ky’s face and forehead into the deck between. America’s Sweetheart and perhaps next Intercontinental champion, repeats the process a second and third time, the newly minted Charlie Corps roaring to life as Chill’s noggin gets knocked into the plywood time and time again until her writhing arms wilt.
Dawson releases her scissors and rolls the semiconscious champion to her back. Scooting to a seated position, Kylie’s legs in her possession and pointed to the rafters, the Hawkeye’s torso and arms in a single file reaching from between Charlie’s legs and beyond, Sanders’ shoulders conspicuously on the canvas for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOO!
The crowd groans in unreserved disappointment as the stubborn Chill thrusts a shoulder off the canvas with the ref’s final slap a few inches away.
Dawson kips to her feet, showing the spring and wind of a woman barely in her twenties. As she leads the crowd in a rhythmic clap, the comparatively aged Sanders struggles to her feet, wobbling like a reed in the wind. Seeing Chill on her boot soles, Sweet Charlotte turns and leaps into the middle ropes. She flies into the Orlando airspace with a springboard crossbody the similarly diminutive Kylie has no chance in countering.
SPRINGBOARD CROSSBODY:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=gwDZimBVsFM
Charlie flattens the champ to the canvas, smashing the Hawkeye. She ends in a lateral press of the demolished platinum blonde and hooks a flaccid leg for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOO!
Skye can’t help but cry out in frustration, slapping the canvas on the sidelines. Across the way, Jasmine swipes her long ebony locks off her forehead, a huge sigh escaping her lips. In the ring, the challenger seems less concerned. She pushes to her feet, tugging the increasingly ragdolled titleholder with her, Sanders wearing down under the unrelenting pressure. Charlie draws Ky to the ropes with a front facelock then uses the middle rope as a stepping stone to hop into a guillotine choke of the fading Hawkeye.
GUILLOTINE CHOKE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=3SHfJ-W02O0
Dawson wraps her legs rigid around Sanders’ back, gluing herself to Kylie with her grip cinching tighter, closing Chill’s windpipe. Kylie staggers around the ring, putting out max effort to simply stay vertical, for if she falls now, she’d likely wake up a former champion.
Jasmine seems to realize and hops to the apron. The official doesn’t immediately realize, but Skylar does. She sidles around the corner and takes J-Dogg’s stems out from under her, Washington dropping to a chin-first landing on the deck. Her head snapping back from the impact, Jazzy ends splayed on the floor to the roar of the crowd, all the tumblers clicking into place for the upset the Charlie Corps craves.
The celebration proves a bit premature when Sanders is able to carry Charlie to a corner and create a makeshift splash against the buckles. One is all it takes for Dawson to drop off her foe’s back. She slips out from behind Sanders with relatively little damage done.
Grabbing Kylie by her short silvery bob, the Sweetheart turns Kylie to face the corner and POUNDS Chill’s forehead and elfin features into the top buckle TIME AND TIME AND TIME AGAIN. The FAWNatics count up to a full ‘TEN’, Ky left a hot mess as she’s spun to face the challenger. Sanders can offer little response as Dawson scoops her up to a seat on the top buckle.
Moving to center stage, Charlie turns and races to her seated foe, ably climbing to the middle ropes in a stance in front of the champ. With Kylie’s arms leaden at her sides, America’s Sweetheart wraps her hands around the back of Sanders’ noggin and leaps backward, drawing Kylie with her, Ky careening to the canvas courtesy Charlie’s signature East Mountains Facebuster.
EAST MOUNTAINS FACEBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=-mBTRwzhaPY
Dawson winces, grabbing at her tailbone and giving a rub while the platinum blonde is apparently out cold, face down and twitching. As Skye, back in her partner’s corner, shouts at Charlie to cover, a recovered Jasmine reaches in under the ropes and snatches an ankle of her teammate. The café-au-lait-skinned grappler begins to slide the ruined IC champ toward the ropes, but the ref kicks J-Dogg’s paw free, Jasmine yelping as she shakes out her stinging hand.
Meanwhile, Charlie grabs a wrist and tugs Sanders dead center cavewoman-style. She spins the champion to her back and coats herself atop what’s left of FAWN’s most hated. The crowd chants along in glorious delight for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREENOOO!
The zebra’s hand is so close he has to reassure himself he hasn’t hit canvas for the third time and this one has Dawson’s baby blues bugging as she rises to her haunches in utter disbelief.
“No,” she manages to squeak.
“I swear, Charlie,” the ref responds.
Dawson shakes her head and steals a glance at Mitchell who, for a moment can’t offer any heartwarming enthusiasm as she stands mouth agape and shrugging.
“Do it, sweetheart,” she finally yells.
Charlotte nods, dimples flashing as the sweat-soaked cutie pushes wearily to vertical and stumbles to the nearest corner. She ascends slowly and carefully, though much more quickly than an awakening Kylie. The zombie-like Hawkeye makes a glassy-eyed stance, unsure where her challenger is and seemingly unaware where she is.
Dawson waits crouched for the ultimate leap of her career and a game-changing Charlie Cutter.
CHARLIE CUTTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=P53Lflg9OC0
The youngster launches into the void, reaching for Kylie’s braincase, when Sanders, on instinct, throws herself out of reach. Dawson crashes and burns on impact, completely off balance with her target gone. She THUMPS into the deck from a stratospheric height, Skye looking away, hearing the collision even more than her bestie would prefer.
Leaning heavily against the ropes, Kylie barely has the energy to point an index finger at her right temple, but she manages so everyone knows her intellect is unmatched, Emily West included.
But the veteran isn’t done. With the jeers egging her on, Kylie pushes away from her protection and reaches the slowly rising challenger. Ky digs a toe kick deep into her foe’s alabaster tummy then tugs the Sweetheart’s cranium between her legs. Kylie wraps her arms around the gulping belly of the youngster and digs deep into her remaining reserves, lifting Dawson so the crown of her skull is pointed to the earth. Ky shifts her grip to around Charlotte’s right leg and flips the world on its head by planting Charlie on hers with a cradle piledriver.
CRADLE PILEDRIVER @0:06:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=BonKBv_QFFk
Kylie, in a flaccid seat next to obliterated Dawson, leans/falls to the right and across Dawson’s chest for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
It’s the challenger’s turn to amaze with a kickout that has Kylie in the edge of tears and Jasmine mid-meltdown.
“No, no, no,” Chill pleads more than insists, but the official shakes his head and holds up two fingers.
A red-faced Sanders tugs the limp Sweetheart up with her and slips an arm between the legs of the deadweight. The grind of the match shows as it takes all of Kylie’s effort to pop Charlie across her shoulders in a fireman’s carry, the crowd silenced by the approaching Chilly Valley Driver.
CHILLY VALLEY DRIVER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=cIRSL_p7klg
But before Ky can deliver the coup de grace, a waking Dawson supplies a couple sharpened elbows to the veteran’s right temple and the distracted Hawkeye lets Charlie slip out the back door. Charlotte slides down Ky’s frame, pulling her over into a small package for the…
ONE…
TWO…
With the ref on his chest, ready for slap number three, Jasmine reaches under the ropes and provides a felonious tipping point, pushing the entwined blondes so it’s Charlie with her shoulders on the canvas.
As a furious Skye desperately points out the assist from J-Dogg, the ref claps the mat for…
ONE…
TWO…
And THREEE!
Vanilla Chill immediately untangles from the ball of blondes and hightails it out under the bottom rope, falling into the arms of her partner.
As Skylar slides in and argues with the clueless official, Charlie gazes up at the man and then the delighted Kylie with wide, disbelieving eyes. Shoulder to shoulder, Washington helps the depleted titleholder to her prize and the announcer makes it official.
“Your winner…and STILL Intercontinental Champion…Kylie Sanders!”
The crowd’s ferocity is unchecked and Mitchell’s frustration nearly is, but she turns away from the departing ref to console an incredulous Charlie.
Kylie, belt in her grasp, backpedals up the ramp with another assist from J-Dogg.
“Go back to the nursery and cry your little eyes out,” she screams at the Sweethearts.
“Ain’t no one knows how to beat the Chill this year!”