FreeCatFights

The screen displays the logos of the associated wrestling companies: All Phoenix Pro, Coastal Championship Wrestling, Slamabama Pro, Las Vegas Wrestling on the Strip, the Albion Wrestling Alliance, Lega Italia Wrestling, Steel Chicago, the Greater Ohio League and Rose City Wrestling.  The logos all come together in a flare and become the logo for tonight's show:

(https://s4ck.com/forums/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fi.imgur.com%2FlNwMQln.png&hash=842f354bdb60bf3a9d559f40478d3529eaaa9f43)

A bass-heavy remix of Chumbawumba's "Tubthumping" drives out through laptop speakers and TV sound systems around the world wherever wrestling fans are found, and the FTW Fury logo explodes out into high color footage of Punky landing a superkick on a flying Emily Layne, blazing straight into Gemma Rox hitting the Roxslide on someone unseen and Lisa Starr moonsaulting out of camera range.

#I GET KNOCKED DOWN!
#BUT I GET UP AGAIN!
#YOU'RE NEVER GONNA KEEP ME DOWN!

The Red Enforcer hits a straitjacket powerbomb on the Staten Island Stomper, Emily locks the Pearly Gates dragon sleeper on a Mulkey sister, and Calli Quinn hits Time's Up on an official unfortunate enough to get in the Countdown's way, jolting his bowtie clean off his zebra stripes.

#I GET KNOCKED DOWN!
#BUT I GET UP AGAIN!
#YOU'RE NEVER GONNA KEEP ME DOWN!

Lindsay Campbell locks the Dragon Claw on the unfortunately screaming Shizuko Fukumitsu.  Tiffany hits a towering superplex on Iron Michelle Blount.  "Big" Eddy Valiant tosses a glass of water into Lindsay's face. Sadie flies off the top like a cannonball of villainy.

#I GET KNOCKED DOWN!
#BUT I GET UP AGAIN!
#YOU'RE NEVER GONNA KEEP ME DOWN!

Gemma and Punky hit the Stroke of Midnight on Haley Borowitz.  Rowan Chance locks the Widow's Web on the Red Enforcer in mid-powerbomb, pulling him down to the mat.  Tiffany takes out the Staten Island Stomper with the Flatliner.

#I GET KNOCKED DOWN!
#BUT I GET UP AGAIN!
#YOU'RE NEVER GONNA KEEP ME DOWN!

Lisa Starr locks the Restring on Calli Quinn.  Lindsay Campbell grabs Gemma by the throat.  Emily Layne puts Shizuko out with the Made in Heaven. Eddy lurks in the rafters.  Sadie poses on stage in a flurry of falling leaves.  Lord Tantalus lays a hand on Rowan Chance's head in a dark room.  Calli throws back her hood in front of a roaring crowd.

#... NEVER GONNA KEEP ME DOWN!

The shot cuts to a view of the ringside announce table, hung with a white cloth and the FTW Fury logo.  Seated behind are Larry van Keel in his customary tweed suit with a purple bowtie, his brown hair neatly parted down the middle and his wire rimmed spectacles perched on the end of his nose.  Next to him is Rick "Precious" Perle, tanned and grinning with white capped teeth, wearing his old pink and white satin jacket with "Precious Perle" on the back in white piping over a slim white suit, his thinning dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and looking Hollywood in a pair of dark Ray-Ban sunglasses.

LvK: Welcome everyone to our second edition of FTW Fury!

RP: I'll be damned, they didn't cancel it yet.

LvK: They wouldn't cancel us, Rick!  We're offering hard-hitting action, the best of independent wrestling in America today gathered under one roof, and some of the most captivating storylines on television!

RP: And we didn't hire Vince Russo.

LvK: From your lips to God's *BEEP*ing ears.

RP: ... some days I just respect the hell out of you, van Keel.

LvK: Right back at you, Precious.  Let's look at the line-up for tonight's action-packed edition of Fury!

The shot cuts to a graphic on Fury's dark violet backdrop, the screen divided by a searing bolt of lightning.  On one side stands Callista Quinn, leader of the Countdown, in her hoodie, tapping her wrist and looking smug.  On the other is Sadie Davis, looking almost as smug but almost casually flipping everyone off instead of tapping her wrist.  Perhaps Sadie already knows what time it is.

RP: The tournament to crown the first FTW champion is underway, and despite the commissioner refusing to consider putting me into contention, I gotta say it's a hell of a lineup.

LvK: We'll all be sorry to miss your legendary athleticism, Rick, but tonight should light a fire under FTW fans.  First up we'll have Callista Quinn, the nefarious leader of the Countdown, facing the cunning Sadie Davis, who defeated "The Dragon" Lindsay Campbell through HIGHLY controversial means last week!

RP: Controversy, shmontroversy.  The ref counted Campbell out of the ring.  She wanted to win, she should've been IN the ring.  I should know, I used to hear that kind of stuff from refs all the time.  "Perle, get in the ring, you can't get a legal pinfall on the outside even if you did just smash someone's head into the guardrail."

LvK: Yes, but ...

RP: "Perle, stop twisting your thumb in that guy's eye."

LvK: Right, however it's a ...

RP: "Perle, I'm not going to count a pin on that guy, I just watched you shoot him up with horse tranquilizers."

LvK: ...

RP: What a bunch of fascists.

LvK: *recovering himself with the aplomb that has kept him employed* Yes.  But let's really look at this - Sadie's not going to be able to pull the same trick twice in a row, and Calli Quinn not only has almost the same size advantage over Sadie that Lindsay Campbell does, but she is - and no disrespect is meant to Miss Campbell - also much more of a cold, calculating, cruel *BEEP*.

RP: That's not too objective, van Keel.

LvK: SHE STOLE MY TOURNAMENT ANNOUNCEMENT.

RP: Yeah.  That was funny.  Anyway, Quinn might be tall and dangerous, but Sadie's got something she doesn't have.  MOXIE.

LvK: You don't think Callista Quinn has moxie?

RP: Wait, let me check my notes.  *ruffling sound* Oh, no.  Okay, they both have moxie.  But what Sadie has that Calli doesn't ... can we cue up the prompt I sent over?

A still from last week's main event is displayed on screen, featuring Sadie crawling into the ring to beat the ten-count.  She is sliding under the bottom rope with her hips uplifted in her black bikini bottoms.

RP: ... DAT ASS.

LvK: ... we are DEFINITELY getting cancelled.

Rick looks into the camera and bites his lower lip like Rich Boy while looking over the rims of his Ray-Bans.  Larry van Keel rubs his heavily-lined forehead with three fingertips.

LvK: ALSO tonight ...

The shot cuts away from the announcers again to the dark violet Fury backdrop divided by lightning.  On one side is Emily Layne, looking fierce and angelic with a face like a Raphael angel and fists brought up like a Trieste dockworker.  On the other is "Punky" Meg Dow, slouching in her ragged zombie shirt and joshi skirt and leggings, who wears a sneer as she brings up her right hand and then her left with the pinkies extended and then brings the fists together to form a giant rock hand.

LvK: Emily Layne looks to settle the score that predates the launch of FTW, going back to before FTW: First Strike, as she takes on the Countdown's resident maniac, Punky.

RP: I gotta say, I wouldn't have thought much of Layne's chances after the job Punky and Gemma pulled on her at the i-pay-per-view, but she showed a real killer instinct taking out that Japanese broad last week.

LvK: Indeed, Emily Layne displayed a determination and an aggressive streak that bordered on cruel in her systematic destruction of Shizuko Fukumitsu.  This could prove to be real trouble for the self-proclaimed "Priestess of Chaos", Megan Dow.

RP: And Punky might have more to worry about then just learning how to say "I'm gonna kick your teeth down your throat" in Italian.

LvK: "Sto andando a calci i denti in gola."

RP: ... seriously?

LvK: I used to have Dominic Denucci for a color man in Pennsylvania.

RP: Huh.  Anyway, yeah. What might happen with -

A sudden burst of static.

The screen flickers and hiccups with electric noise.

When it finally clears up, we see a small, dark room filled with candles. Sitting in the middle of the darkness is a woman, cross-legged, the shadows and her long hair strategically covering her naked body. The woman looks down at the ground, her hair falling over her face. Her head sways just a little, making her hair move like a light wind is passing through the room.

"There's a rule," she says, under that long hair. "A rule in magic that everyone knows. A rule you can find in Crowley and the Necronomicon and the Golden Dawn."






Her head jerks just a little, as if recognizing the pain in the video.

"And the rule is..." she says,"do not call forth what you cannot put back down."





The female figure giggles. "It's a rule that everyone knows... except the little girls in Countdown.






"You have no idea what you've summoned..."






The woman in the room lifts her head, showing the same mask from the last promo. Her eyes stare deep into the camera.

"But very soon," she says. "You will."

Then, the sound of chains snapping taut. The hooks in her skin pull tight and she raises her arms as the chains lift from the floor up and off camera, up through the darkness. She screams... and then begins laughing.

***

Cut back to our announcers, looking at the monitor.

RP: *BLEEP* Russo, did we hire Clive Barker and nobody told me?
LvK: Ladies and gentlemen, I'm not exactly sure what we saw just now, but I'm thinking there's a very real chance we're going to see that masked woman here, tonight!

RP: I see what you did there.
LvK: (ignoring him) But first, we're going to see Lindsay and Lisa in tag team action!

RP: You know something I don't, don't you van Keel! I hate that!
LvK: Perle, the sheer tonnage of what I know that you don't would stop a bull in its tracks. Let's go to our ring announcer!

I'm in the dressing room with my lovely partner Lindsay while the disturbing images and words from that mysterious masked lady flash over the screen. I'm trying not to pay any attention to that as I get ready for our Tag Match, but Lindsay's eyes are glued to the TV.

,,Alright, Sunny girl." I say as I slip my black fingerless glove on my right hand. ,,Ya ready for this?" Looking over at here, just to see her glaring at the screen. ,,Hey....HEY!" snapping my fingers in front of her face. ,,Huh?" her head slowly turns to me, eyes still wide open, jaw still dropped. ,,We got a match to win! Snap out of it if ya don't want me to slap you out of it." ,,Oh...oh yeah, right! Right, I'm alright!" she gives me that bright smile of hers and I let out a little sigh. Adjusting my attire one last time. ,,Just can't be mad at ya! Come on, let's go!"

Taking her arm to drag her out of the dressing room behind me as the screen turns to the ring ...

Announcer: Introducing first, already in the ring. They're at a combined weight of 520 pounds. The team of Monstro and the Blue Fairy!

The 5'4'' 120lbs Blue Fairy - dressed in an extremely thin blue skirt over a bright blue one-piece, along with white boots and pads, fairy wings on her back – is seated on the top turnbuckle, looking quite elegant with her legs crossed like a real lady. Her hair, colored in blue, which fades out towards the tips, is tied up rather elegantly on top of her head. She takes her Star Wand and gives the monster in front of her, who's holding perfectly still, a slight tap on the shoulder...

...and right then Monstro spreads out his arms and lets out a loud roar. The massive 6'3'' 400lbs man – dressed in white and blue water-patterned tights, black boots and pads – stomps on the canvas, making the entire ring shake heavily under his weight before smacking his hands against his shiny bald head multiple times before sliding his hands over his big, black handlebar mustache. The big, Moby Dick tattoo on his back dances a bit with each stomp.

LvK: We're about to see the debut of Monstro and the Blue Fairy! This should be interesting. These too form a team that's just...well...it's hard to believe it exists!

RP: I have NO idea how someone like HIM can actually score with someone like HER! This is ridiculous!

LvK: Well, the Fairy has total control over her monster from the Deep Blue Sea. It's gonna be very interesting to see how things work out for them against this team, though.

The lights flicker, so does the screen as the rustling of a disturbed signal blares through the speakers for a few seconds. Things clear up as Dark New Day's "Pieces" starts playing and blue and bright yellow writing fades in on the black Titantron "DRAGON STARRS" as I make my way out from behind the curtain. Counting the steps before stopping, looking left and right before crouching down. Left forearm across my left thigh, right fist up in the air before slamming it down on the aisle. My head lowered as I remain like that until my partner Lindsay comes running out onto the stage as well. Leaping, twisting 180° and landing right behind me. Both facing opposite ways, me crouched, her tall body stood behind me with her arms spread out.

Announcer: And their opponents! At a combined weight of 265 pounds, the team of Lisa Starr and Lindsay Campbell. The Dragon Starrs!

I'm in a torn black t-shirt, a red dragon wrapping around it bottom to top, covering half of the silver letters L and S across the chest. Also a pair of cutoff jeans that just barely cover my ass cheeks, a thick blue, studded leather belt around the waist. Legs covered by white and black, knee high converse boots with blue laces, black knee pads right above them.

Behind me, Lindsay is dressed in her lovely mix of neon-yellow and dark blue. The blue bikini top over the yellow sports-bra. The tight blue shorts with yellow stripes down one side, and a red dragon climbing up the other. Yellow boots underneath the blue leg warmers, yellow wrist bands, and of course that lovely yellow headband.

I finally reach up with my right hand, grabbing for one of Lindsay's spread arms and pulling myself up before starting to pull her down to the ring with me. At least the first few feet until she turns around and starts walking herself. I'm heading straight towards the ring while lil Sunny is busy walking side to side, handing out high-fives, letting the fans shoot selfies with her...all that stuff!

As I reach the ring I turn, slapping the apron a few times to get Lindsay's attention and she comes jogging down to the ring. Both climbing onto the apron at the same time, from which I leap over the top rope into the ring while Linds climbs in the 'standard' way. The Blue Fairy has her wand across Monstro's chest now, holding him back while he looks ready to come waltzing right over Lindsay and me.

I give the Dragon a little pat on her ass and she climbs up a corner, playing some with the crowd. I'm using this bit of 'me-time' to walk straight towards the monster in the opposite corner, hands on my hips, leaning forward a bit as I look up. Knowing that the good little Fairy would never let him loose outside a match. "Heyyyy, Bowling Ball. Have you tried exercising? It usually helps." grinning straight into his face as I lift my t-shirt a bit to show off my flawless six-pack abs, rubbing it with my free hand. Seeing the wand move a bit as he leans towards me, but the Fairy didn't give the 'GO' signal yet, and just gives me an angry glare.

"No, no." she hops off the turnbuckle, stepping right between me and her monster from the Deep Blue Sea. "You smile now, but you won't when I make you cry." She taps me on the nose with her wand before adding in a little sing-sang voice "When you wish upon a Starr...." which makes me want to plow into her right away. But meanwhile, Lindsay's standing right behind me, arms folded and she looks more angry at me than she does at the others. Roughly grabbing my shoulder to pull me back towards our corner. "Now, now, Lisa!! We don't wanna be bad sportswomen, do we?" I still stare at the smug-looking fairy waving her wand around until having my cheek pinched by Lindsay "We don't want that!!" she adds in her stern voice and I roll my eyes "Fiiiiine! We don't..." I sigh.

After explaining the rules, the ref moves to our corner, telling us that one of us has to go out. I give Lindsay a little nod and pat on her back as I climb out of the ring, grabbing for the tag rope as Linds bounces on her toes a bit. And across the ring..."Ohhh fuck" we both mutter in our corner as the Blue Fairy climbs out of the ring, leaving Lindsay in there with that 400 lbs...THING! "You got this, Linds!" I call out as the bell rings to start the match.

RP: Here we go! Fat Man against the Ohio Nutcase!

LvK: Would you stop calling her that? Just cause she yelled at you last week.

RP: She's crazy! Period! And I hope that guy crushes her for what she did to me last week!

LvK: You mean, defend herself?

RP: Exactly! That' wasn't cool!

Standing in the ring, and across it, in the opposite corner, is that 400lbs Monstro thing!! Nervously shuffling side to side in my boots, chewing on my bottom lip, hands brushing the top ropes at my sides. The bell rings and I freeze for a moment, straightening up and staring at my opponent. The Blue Fairy has climbed onto the middle rope with one foot, confidently smiling at me over his shoulder, swinging her star wand in the air.

,,Okay, Linds. You got this! Just remember...it's more scared of you than you are scared of it!" I think to myself. Then the Fairy taps her wand against Monstro's back and calls out ,,GO GET HER!" and just like that, he comes running across the ring with big, slow, clumsy looking steps. ,,OH FUCK THIS!" I scream out in panic, making Lisa look at me a little confused after that outburst.

It's taking him a while to come across the ring, and as he's halfway across I hear an annoyed sounding ,,Move, damn it!" from behind me. ,,Oh...right!!"I gasp and then duck and step to the side. Having the big guy slam into the corner turnbuckles. Seeing Lisa rub her hand over his shiny bald head as he tries to recover, making me giggle a bit as his rage just grows. Reaching for Lisa over the top rope but she just quickly hops off the apron and flips him off.

As he glares out at Lisa, I see my chance. Not being one who usually does things like that, but against this behemoth, it's gotta be done! Charging in from behind and I just windmill my arms. Smacking my forearms and elbows against his broad back, making his tattooed skin dance with each blow.

LvK: Lindsay's trying to chop Monstro down. Throwing anything she's got at him!

RP: All that seems to do is make him angry, though. To him this must feel like a fly just annoyingly buzzing all around him.

And just like a fly, I'm eventually being swatted away as he turns and throws his big arm around. I stumble back, fall and roll to quickly get back up to my feet only to get HAMMERED by a huge shoulder block. Going down hard, the ring shakes heavily after the impact that took my breath away.

It doesn't take long before I'm lifted to my feet by my hair. He holds on to it to keep me up on my feet until he just hammers my forehead with a huge Headbutt that floors me again. Seeing double after that blow, and with me downed and groaning in the middle of the ring, the Blue Fairy is dancing along the apron with a very happy sounding song on her lips, ending with the words ,,Oh Monstro of the Deep Blue Sea. Bring your prey to the Blue Fairy!"

He gets a hold of my hair, making me yelp out in pain as I'm mercilessly being dragged across the ring towards their corner. The tag is made and quickly the Blue Fairy comes flying towards my downed body over the top rope to land a perfect Slingshot Legdrop across my neck. My legs flop up, and she flops across my belly, holding on to one of my legs before it drops for the cover.

ONE, TW.....TWO!

The ref calls out after I quickly kicked out of the pin, making the Blue Fairy seem a little big angry. She gets to her feet quickly, pouting, stomping the canvas with one of her boots before smacking Monstro's shoulder while he's still busy climbing out of the ring. ,,TAG!" the ref calls out as the two swap places again.

,,Owwwww ow no no stop stop!" I'm dizzy and pulled to my feet again. Feeling one hand grabbing the back of my shorts, facing the Fairy who blows me a little kiss before I'm pulled back and right into a brutal forearm smash that comes across my lower back, making me scream in pain, arch my back and drop to a knee. ,,Again, Monstro! Again!" she calls out in a sing-sang voice and he delivers one more, dropping me face down on the canvas, ready for his Fairy to enter the ring again.

The Tag is made, but this time, before leaving the ring, Monstro gets another task ,,Drag her in that corner!" And by ,,that corner" she means mine!! Monstro drags me across the ring, closer towards Lisa and the Fairy follows. Once I'm close to that corner she drops her firm little ass down on my lower back, pulls my arms over her thighs and locks me in a Camel Clutch.

Forced to face my partner Lisa as the Fairy has me trapped in that hold, looking out at a clearly angry Lisa. ,,Oh she wishes upon a Starr! Unfortunately...it's hard to tag with her all trapped up like that, isn't it?" followed by a bright giggle.

I'm moaning out, looking up at Lisa who's just rolling her eyes in quite the annoyed fashion at the Fairy who seems to be a little confused because of the lack of worry on Lisa's face ,,What's that look foOWWWWWWW!" she cries out and falls off me as Lisa simply threw her hand out over the top rope and slammed her fingerless gloved fist right into the Fairy's mouth. I drop down flat on the canvas, looking up at her. ,,That wasn't right!" I groan, while she just shrugs and answers ,,I've had enough of that *BEEP*ing bitch!! And by the way....she's comin"

Lisa nods to the side, I hear the boots pounding along the canvas as the Blue Fairy comes rushing in towards me with a not-so happy look on her face. I get to a knee, peeking over my shoulder at her and waiting for the right moment to explode out into her with a BIG Clothesline. Intercepting the poor Blue Fairy and sending a flash of blue flipping through the air before she lands, motionless and in a heap.

The crowd lets out a gasp from the impact, followed by a loud cheer as I smile into the stands and raise my right arm I just flattened her with. Monstro's going cracy in their corner as she's down. Stomping back and forth along the apron, just staring and grunting at his Blue Fairy. In the meantime, I'm walking over towards Lisa, holding my right hand out for the tag ,,Your turn" I tell her with a bright smile across my lips

ISeeing Lindsay stand in front of me with her hand held out for the tag. I look at it, then at the downed Fairy before looking at Linds again with a cheeky grin across my lips. ,,Let's rock this bitch!" as I smack Lindsay's hand for the tag. She turns, picks up the downed Fairy and then lifts her with a grip around her thighs, ready to drill her with a Spinebuster...but not just yet!

RP: What the *BEEP* are they doing?! They just tagged! The nutty Dragon has to get outta that damn ring!!

LvK: Actually, they DO have a five count, you know?

RP: Yeah, SCREW THAT! The bad ones get a 5 count! They shouldn't...

With Linds holding the Fairy up like that I take the top rope, leap up on it before jumping legs first towards the lifted Fairy. She's starting to come back to her senses as I come flying in. My legs past her, just like the rest of my body. And as my head's next to hers I reach around with both hands, taking her chin as I drop down on my back. Dragging her with me as Lindsay just tosses her down and slams her into the canvas as we nail the poor little girl with a Springboard Neckbreaker/Spinebuster combination that shakes the ring and makes Monstro let out a loud roar.

RP: WHAT THE HELL?! Oh...oh it's just fatso! Why the hell is he screaming?

LvK: Well, there obviously seems to be a kind of...I dunno...bond between these two?

Bond or not, she's down after that one! I sit up, watching Lindsay climb out to the apron. It's a pretty spectacular sight...those long legs as she slides out between the ropes, with that sexy, tightly covered....I shake my head after my thoughts drifted away for a second there. Gotta focus! ,,Awwww come on ya poor lil Fairy! Ya can barely move! Here...lemme help ya tag!" I grab her wrists and start dragging her across the ring towards her corner. Pretty much like Monstro did with Lindsay before.

,,Oh wait, no!" I stop and release her wrists halfway through the ring. She lays whimpering in the middle of the ring, almost begging me to let her make the tag while I leap a bit and start stomping down all over the back of her head and her back. Sending her through another world of pain here. Lindsay's not happy about me just stomping all over our opponent and neither is the ref who pulls me off. He's yelling at me, Monstro's roaring, Lindsay's looking at me kinda...pissed as well.

,,What?!" I hiss at the ref after pulling me away, then I turn towards Lindsay, spreading my arms ,,What?!" And then I take a few back-steps towards Monstro's corner. Once close enough, I turn around quickly and throw out my right arm. ,,AND WHAT?!" as I drill my elbow against his jaw. Rocking his head back with the unexpected blow and he's actually forced to get off the apron after being knocked off balance.

The crowd cheers loudly after I landed that blow on the big guy. Even though it may not have been the cleanest way to do it...it had to be done! And now that he's gone, I stroll back over to the Fairy, pull her to her feet and whip her across the ring into the ropes.

Waiting for her to come back, and as she does I charge forward with my arm out at my side. Looking to Clothesline the Blue Fairy. But unfortunately...she decides to duck under it! I gasp and turn as she bounces off the ropes on the other side of the ring, now throwing out an arm herself to go for a Clothesline, but....I duck! Not letting her run through this time, though. With me ducked under her arm, my right arm goes across her neck, left underneath thigh, between her legs to cup her crotch. Whispering "That's for the blue hair...that's MY look!" before lifting her up and over me, tossing the Blue Fairy across the ring with a T-Bone Suplex – The straight Edge.

Sitting up after the move, having a smile across my lips that's almost as bright as Lindsay's...just a little bit more dirty! I turn and crawl towards the downed girl. Knowing I could easily get the pin on her now and...I'll try that! But just as I'm about to go for it, I hear a very loud, very low, and very angry sounding roar from behind me.

My eyes grow wide as I turn, seeing Monstro's climbed into the ring now, and he's got his eyes locked on me. Not in the way guys usually look at me, though! I scramble up to my feet as he gets closer. "Ehm....yeah I'm out! LINDSAY!" smacking Linds' shoulder before quickly climbing out of the ring. Being followed out by Monstro and he starts chasing me around the ring. I'm lucky he's so slow! Now I can take a nice, relaxing stroll around the ring while he tires himself out.

LvK: This is something you don't see every day...

RP: A bald, fat freak chasing a blue-haired thin freak? Looks like just another day in Japan, actually.

LvK: In....Japan? What? Why? I didn't know you've been to Japan, Rick.

RP: Oh of course I have! LOTS of times!

LvK: Oh really?

RP: Well, once.

LvK: To wrestle?

RP: Actually I was shooting a commercial. I'm BIG over there!

LvK: A Japanese Commercial? Must be an awesome product!

RP: Yeah...for singing toilets! BUT back to topic I watch lots of anime. And trust me, these are just FULL of big fat guys chasing skinny girls with funny colored hair.

Meanwhile inside the ring, Lindsay's looking out a little confused, watching the little hunt that's going on outside while the Blue Fairy starts making her way back up to my feet. They're both just standing there and watching me move towards the announcer's table. Monstro's slowed down, he's sweating, breathing hard as I give Rick "Precious" Perle a little glare "This is for last week"

LvK: What's she talking about?

RP: I...I dunno. But....I don't like it. Why's she grinning like that?. What's she doing?!

It's easy...I'm walking past the announce table, standing just a few feet away from RP and I turn towards Monstro. Arms folded under my chest, yelling "HEY, BALDILOCKS! CATCH ME IF YA CAN!" I yell at him and there he comes! Huffing and Puffing like an old steam train. Picking up some speed.

I wait....and wait...and then do a quick sidestep, letting my right leg stand out. Monstro can't stop or slow down, so he clumsily trips over my leg. Stumbling a few steps before falling over, his body smacks against Rick's as he couldn't get out of the way in time and ends up being taken down and flattened by the bigger guy who ends up entangled in some cable on top of the poor announcer. The crowd loves it! So do I, Larry seems to enjoy himself as well looking at his partner trapped under a 400lbs man. Everyone's having a great time!

Well...except for "Ohhhhhhh!" The Blue Fairy has taken a front row-stand. Inside the ring, leaned against the ropes and looking out at me with a dropped jaw. "Ohhhhhh!! OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" She angrily stomps her foot down on the canvas, looking all pouty and angry. "HOW DARE YOU?!" I just stand outside the ring. A little grin across my lips, spreading my arms. "If ya don't like it, just stop quacking and *BEEP*ing do something about it!" And so she does.

She turns and heads for the ropes on the far side. Looking to build up a ton of momentum so she can hurl herself at me over the top rope. There's just one thing she forgot....The Dragon! Lindsay's been sneaking around inside the ring, giggling a bit at Perle's predicament. And now with the Fairy distracted, this is her chance to strike.

As the Fairy rushes across the ring to prepare for take-off, Lindsay does the same. Only difference is that Linds is running from my left to the right, crossing Tinkerbell's path halfway across the ring with both girls having a ton of momentum, this is destined to be a big one. Lindsay lowers her shoulder, the Blue Fairy hasn't even seen her yet! But now she feels her!

Sunny puts all of her weight (and she's got about 30lbs on that girl) into her Buckeye Bodycheck. Brutally taking the small girl off her feet to send her flying across the ring. She lands with a thud, bounces once, skids a bit more and almost ends up falling out of the ring.

LvK: Oh holy sh.....I mean...wow!! Did you see that impact, Rick?

RP: HMMFFFFFF!!FNMNNN!!!!! HELP!

LvK: Oh right...you didn't!! *chuckles*

Climbing back up to the apron and as I walk on that towards the corner I give Lindsay a little nod "Let's finish her off before the big one gets back on his feet" She flashes a bright smile at me and nods. "Uh huh!" Before picking the Fairy up from her place near the ropes. That girl looks pretty limp right now...but who wouldn't feel a bit worn out after being run over by a Truck?

Lindsay lifts her up at her side. One arm wrapped around the Fairy's waist, the other hand is underneath her legs to keep her horizontal to the canvas. The Dragon's parading her prey around the ring for a while before dropping down to a knee. Driving the Blue Fairy's back down across her thigh before lifting her up again. She walks a few more steps towards our corner before dropping with another Backbreaker, making the Fairy cry out in pain again.

She stands again and turns, inching closer towards me until I can smack her shoulder for the Tag. Once that's done, I quickly climb up to the top turnbuckle while Lindsay moves closer towards the middle of the ring. I bend my legs a bit before jumping off the top ropes. Getting some good height on this jump. My eyes locked on the Fairy, Lindsay's eyes locked on me as we need perfect timing now.

I spread my arms for balance and curl my right leg in so the padded knee points right out at the Fairy's head. I descend, and as soon as my knee slams against our victim's face, Lindsay drops down once more with another backbreaker. This one with the added momentum of my Top-Rope Kneedrop across her face. Linds releases her grip now, which sends the Blue Fairy flopping down in a limp heap on the canvas.

Monstro has made his way back up to his feet, but seems a bit disoriented as I roll his partner on her back and wrap her legs up tightly for the pin. The ref doesn't even bother to send Lindsay out of the ring as he drops and counts. The crowd chanting in Chorus with him "ONE....TWO.....THREE!"

DING DING DING

Announcer: HERE ARE YOUR WINNERS. THE TEAM OF "THE DRAGON" LINDSAY CAMPBELL AND LISA STARR...THEEEE DRAGON STARRS!

Helped up to my feet by a now completely hyperactive seeming Lindsay who always starts acting like a little child once she's won something! Smiling as we hug in the middle of the ring before the ref steps in to raise our arms. The celebration is cut short though, as the angry Monstro finds his way back into the ring. We'd rather not have anything to do with that thing for now and decide to take the high road. Heading out of the ring and back up the aisle as the monster from the Deep Blue Sea takes care of his broken Fairy.

LvK: That's a win for the Dragon Starrs! Impressive showing by these two. And WELCOME BACK Rick "Precious" Perle, how've you been?

RP: Don't.....ask...

LvK: You missed one heck of a match! Starr and Campbell were-

RP: DON'T mention their names!! They may be hot but what they're that doesn't mean they can just do whatever they want! I'll get them back for their actions against me!

LvK: Wait...you'll get them back for it? You retired what...20years ago? You'd seriously take these two on?

RP: Ohhhh I'll take them! I'll take them GOOD and HARD!

*sound of a man facepalming himself is heard*

LvK: Let's go to commercial...

*The shot fades in to a picture of bald eagle flying in slow motion towards the camera across an American flag background.

'America the Beautiful' is being played slowly and soulfully on a violin.

The eagle flies over a barbecue in a park, festooned with American flags.

Two blonde teenagers in a cinema. The boy shyly kisses the girl on the cheek. The girl smiles at him and reaches for his pants.

A bunch of cheering fans at an American football game. The shot widens to show an opposing player getting carted off on a stretcher.

Six police officers gang-tackle a black teenager in slow motion and proceed to beat the hell out of him with nightsticks.

A smiling couple sign mortgage papers that will leave them slaves to their jobs for the next thirty years.*

AmeriBank. We're your bank, whether you like it or not. Because we're too big to fail.

*The music finishes as we close on a shot of bank executives in a penthouse suite throwing money at each other while they do lines of coke off of the backs of naked hookers*

Walking backstage after the win over Monstro and the Blue Fairy. A towel across my shoulders, a bottle of water in my left hand and my right arm wrapped around Lisa's shoulder.

,,WOOOOHOOO that...was...AWESOME! I mean...you, me. Winning! That was like SOOOO COOL!"

Lisa carries a smile on her face, which is rare enough for her lately, but still she does seem to be a little annoyed and somewhere else with her thoughts.

,,Yeah, we won. Big deal! But you and I both know we're here for bigger things than beating up a fat guy and his little doll!"

,,But....but..."

,,No buts! We should be in that title tournament! We both got screwed in our debuts! Like...why the hell aren't we in that championship tournament?!"

,,Well, only 4 spots for sooooo many people and...wait a moment"

Stopping in the hallway, in front of a TV-screen that shows the footage of Sadie and Big E. Letting out a soft giggle as Sadie slams that door in his face.

,,HA! Got what you deserved!!"

,,And what about the lil chick?"

,,She'll get hers soon enough! Count on it!"

Lisa looks at me, flashing me a little grin before giving me a firm little smack on my butt, making me get on my tip toes as I give her a little giggle.

,,I just love it when you talk aggressive!" she winks at me before adding ,,We better take a shower, though. Or...2 for that matter! It's gonna take a while to get that Monstro's blubber stench off of us!"

I giggle and nod ,,Uh huh!! See you at the aftershow?"

,,We'll see."

And with that our ways part as Lisa heads down the hall towards her dressing room as I take another drink from my water. Still looking at the screen, seeing a few replays from our match which put a smile on my face.

,,*BEEP* this water...I want a beer!" I grin and head to my dressing room as the camera fades out.

*Backstage camera cuts to Red and Gemma who are engaged in a pretty demonstrative conversation. Red is standing and Gemma is sitting on one of those ubiquitous backstage equipment boxes allowing them to see eye to eye.*

Gemma:  "Look now, Reddy. I know you don't like it and it's not what you thought you were getting into, just bear with me a bit. "  *she reaches out and hooks a finger under the edge of his mask and pulls him in, giving him a soft kiss on his cheek*

Gemma:  "I promise, it will all be made clear when... *suddenly Gemma's voice gets harder and she yells* Hey, Blue! Cute *BEEP*ing show out there. Just don't forget that you're *BEEP*ing useless without anyone having your back! So why don't you just spare yourself the trouble and go home to your XBox and the *BEEP*y guitar you say you're 'playing'?"

*Gemma hops down from the box and pulls up to her full height.  Red moves a little more slowly, still surprised by the kiss and the sudden change in tone.  Once he turns and sees Gemma's old rival, Lisa Starr approaching, he stands side by side her, arms crossed, looking menacing.*

This sorta stuff happens way too often around here. You're just walking around backstage, minding your own business...and then have a furious Brit get in your way and yell at you. I'm just on my way to my dressing room, all I want is a shower after my match. But instead, Gemma gets in my face, yelling at me, and having her big red Countdown Buddy by her side.

Letting out a sigh, left hand on my hip, rubbing my forehead with my right one. Trying to stay calm...trying....trying....and failing!

"Why don't you just shut the *BEEP* up?! All I've seen from you around here lately is ganging up on people with your psycho buddies Quinn and Punky! And now you're feeling all tough with this...guy next to you?" Moving my eyes to look over at Red for a few seconds, saying nothing as I stare into his eyes, before turning my attention back towards G-Force.

"And how about trying to stay off the bottle? Maybe for just an hour? Holy *BEEP* I can smell your booze breath from over here! Aaaand..." Placing my fists on my hips, shooting Gemma an angry glare. And in case you wanna back up your tough talk...I'm not afraid of a lil dance with you!! Even with your 'friends' around!"

I can feel Gemma's anger winding up, but I can't let her mouth get the best of her here. I put a hand on her arm to keep her still and start talking before she can.  I take a good look at Lisa, still in the afterglow of a tough match.  That nice glistening layer of sweat on her flesh that gets all her fanboys and fangirls cheering for her and buying her posters. 

"She doesn't need any help to take on a mosquito like you.  Why don't you go find your buddy the Blue Fairy and trade fairyland secrets.  Or go groom your dragon, I'm sure she's got some blubber stuck in her scales she's just dying for her little bird to clean off."

Gemma chuckles a little bit and relaxes some, but I can tell that anger of hers is really close to boiling over.  One of these days I have to check her lineage to see if she doesn't have any Irish in her.  Her family tree that is.  I can tell that she's still in pounce mode which would be bad for us because she's like a tasmanian devil when she's let loose.  I take a step towards Lisa to back her off and show her Gemma's not the only one ready to go.  And then come the click clack sound of heels down the hallway.

"And I'm sure.."

The sound of my heels clicking on the floor draws the attention of both Red and Gemma, but it's my voice, loaded with steely confidence, that causes the two to lock their glares dead onto me.

"The kid here, she can beat ya *staring at Red* senseless. And you, pretty gal *turning to Gemma* she can stomp ya silly. All on her lonesome. So big man, I beg to differ. Your lil friend, she's gonna need all the help she can get if she messes with Ms. Starr.

I saunter down the hall and stand beside the hot lil' spitfire, who seems just as startled by my appearance as the two Countdown buddies. I glance over at Lisa and toss her a wink, before I guide my piercing green eyes back to Red and Gemma, sizing both of em' up as an icy smirk curves my glossy lips.

"I get why y'all would wanna gang up on her. I get why y'all would play so dirty. I get it, you're Countdown, that's how y'all conduct business -- but I certainly am not letting y'all get away with it."

My hands curl into tight fists while my eyes narrow darkly. I lick my grinning lips, looking ready to pounce.

"See, I'm the kinda gal who won't just stand back and let this kinda bul*BEEP*t play out. The kinda gal who can whip both your asses with both my hands tied behind my back. So, if y'all are lookin' for a fair fight, y'all just found one."

I look up and see the lovely Tiffany making her way beside Lisa. Shit, I think, we don't need this. I look Tiffany up and down and think about how I would so love to tussle with her, but we have to save it. Of course Gemma has other ideas.

"I don't care what kinda gal you are you blonde tart! I can knock you down a few pegs too."

I turn and block Gemma from moving more forward and whisper to her.  "Not the time and not the place, darlin'.  Let's go"

I grab Gemma and turn her down the way opposite of where Tiffany appeared.  She's still screaming epithets and threats, most I hope are being censored.  I get her calmed down and she heads off to meet up with Callista, I turn into a doorway and see Megan sitting back in her chair, watching her Joshi tapes, but with a little more calculation.

"Coulda used you out there."

A rare quiet moment in the Countdown locker room.

Calli is off hatching villainous schemes somewhere.

Red is probably doing curls or something.

Gemma had BETTER be out buying more tequila after she killed the damn bottle.

I've got the place to myself, and I'm putting the quiet time to good use.  Sitting in the surprisingly comfy IKEA office chair (it's a Volmar!) at the little video editing suite I've cobbled together in the locker room for us to work on our highlight videos and promos, I'm chasing a ghost.

Those matches Rowan flashed in her promo - I'm sure I have them somewhere. I have all my tapes from Japan here, overflowing my big Thule duffel - All Japan, New Japan, Zero-1, Michinoku Pro, JWP - and somewhere in here I've got Rowan's little secret. Her alter ego is easy enough to look up in the Information Age, but finding actual footage of her matches is much more challenging.  A lot of it appears to have been mysteriously lost or unceremoniously destroyed.  But me, I still have all SORTS of tapes and DVDs of unedited footage, recorded right off the network.

I'm scanning through.  Rowan Chance and I never crossed paths in our respective trips to Japan - which is probably for the best.  If her disturbed masked creation ran into the Ribingudeddo Joshi I used to be overseas, we'd have killed each other.

But she's coming after me.

And I want a better idea of what she's coming after me with.

There's lots of highlight videos of Chance performing in her mask, but the nitty-gritty, the match-ending sequences and injuries are disturbingly tricky to track down. It's odd - in an era where you can pull up a decades-old locally-aired commercial for a defunct phone sex line practically on demand, it seems no one can get a really good quality video of Rowan Chance's masked persona online.

It's a coincidence, though.  Bound to be.  It would take a deranged mind to track down and destroy all those tapes.

Hmmm.

Red barges in, breaking my chain of thought.  I pause the video of Rowan about to twist Chikayo Nagashima into a painful shoulder joint lock, and drop my big headphones down around my neck with a faintly irritable glance up at the big masked man. I only catch the second half of whatever he said.

" - you out there."

I shake my head.  "No time to head out.  Workin' on something."

Putting the cans back over my ears, I flick the controls and get the video playing again.  The announcers are going on about Rowan Chance like the natives in an Indiana Jones movie warning of terrible dark magic. I lean forward, hands dangling over my knees, my eyes intent.  There's something about the way she moves - some quick, snapping movement that reminds me of ...

Red is impatiently shaking my shouder.  "*BEEP*in' WHAT?!".  Glowering, he opens that big yap of his to speak.  I stand up, earphones dropping around my neck again, and go to my toes to jab a fingertip into the hollow of Red's throat.

"I SAW your little smoochy time with Gems get interrupted by the Hot Topic *BEEPing Straight Edgehead and that big bleached bimbo *BEEP," I growl, leveling a finger up at the monitor in the corner of the dressing room playing FTW Fury, all without losing eye contact with The Red Enforcer.  "You didn't need me.  With me there, it would have just become a brawl that became a bloodbath and then Calli would bitch about the clean-up bills. That is what I do, Red.  I break *BEEP*.  But right now I've got *BEEP* to do HERE," I add with a last snarl, dropping back into my Volmar chair and yanking my headphones up again, running back more video.  Red stops me again, this time squeezing my shoulder gently, which is all that stops me from snapping his fingers like stale breadsticks.

I ease the phones off and look up at him.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready for Emily?" he asks with that thoughtful concern that lays just under the brute he portrays.

Emily.  Yeah.

Her picture is on the cork board Calli mounted on the wall, under the humorous banner reading "CURRENT TARGETS".  Emily Layne.  My eyes go far-away for a moment, looking at that picture of her.  Then I snap back.

"I've been training for Emily all *BEEP*ing week.  If that mangy *BEEP* thinks she stands a snow-cone's chance in Hell of getting past me and tasting even a *BEEP*ing whiff of that gold, then she's been drinking too much *BEEP*ing Chianti."

I take his hand and lift it off my shoulder, giving it a firm reassuring squeeze as I half-grin up at him.

"Trust me.  I'll let everyone *BEEP*ing know what the *BEEP* she's in for later.  But for now I've gotta chase something."

"What?" he asks almost gently.

"A bad *BEEP*ing dream."

His eyes harden.  "Rowan," he growls.

I nod.  "I know you're gonna head down there soon to take her out but ... I just gotta figure something out, that's all."

The headphones go back on and I sink back into the IKEA swivel chair.  Red leaves well enough alone and goes about his business - the Countdown has learned to respect my obsessive impulses.  Possibly because when I'm interrupted from my current obsession, I tend to wreck shop.  I rewind, watching Rowan crawl backwards across the ring in her mask, and then fast-forward sinuously the other way. Then rewind.  Over and over.

Something about her body language.  It's alluring, naturally.  Graceful, of course.  Quick as summer lightning.

But in the mask, she moves differently.  That shouldn't BE.  You don't BECOME someone new just by tugging laced nylon over your friggin' face.  You're the same person with the same face, it's just ...

... just a mask.

Suddenly struck with the creepy jangling tingling sensation of being watched, I pause my video and pad to the lockers.  From mine I pull a tool I haven't had to use for a while:

A croquet mallet.  It's short, ash-handled with a head of deep red African hardwood.  Painted a rich lacquered crimson and striped in black, it'd be almost elegant except for the minor modifications I've made.  The handle is wrapped in black grip tape. Both round caps of the mallet have shiny stickers of my stylized rabbit skull Mister Hatred logo, and the head is painted with stylized Banksy bubble-letters reading THE RED QUEEN.

Oh, and I drilled out the head and handle and cored them with lead.

Comfortably secure again, I sit back in the chair and resume watching, resting the end of the croquet mallet handle on the floor and propping my chin on the heavy head as I listen to the Japanese announcers practically praying for Rowan to be exorcised.  I haven't had to swing the Red Queen in quite a while.  Not since CZW, and before that, well ... not since Japan.

Red says he'll take care of her.  I've taken her out myself more than a few times. No need to be afraid.

But if Rowan DOES try to get a piece of me tonight, demon or kami or ghost or whatever she wants to become?

Off with her *BEEP*ing head.

I move away from Punky to give her some space, but I watch the screen over her shoulder all the same. The one that's supposed to be Rowan just doesn't look like her. Different moves, different attitude. Like a whole different person.  Maybe her mask does the same for her what mine does for me.

I shrug my shoulders mentally.  I broke Rowan before. I'll break her again. Just because she thinks she's the second coming of the Great Muta doesn't mean she is any more dangerous than ever.  I allow myself a small grin as I remember how she quivered just seeing me come to the ring that last time.  I'll save the histrionics for another time.  I'll take her and snap her in half and leave the pieces for Punky. 

She's been worrying me recently, going over these tapes again and again. And now I see she's pulled her mallet from hammer space. The kid has talent, but she's worse than a pitbull when she's obsessing about something.  And right now she's got her jaws sunk deeply into the idea that is Rowan Chance.  I'll give her an early present by taking care of that demon for her. Now, if I could only cross off the other worry I have on my plate.

"Her royal highness is on her way."

Gemma, as always has found a bottle of something and has returned.  I shake my head as she walks by me and pops me on my ass while running the bottom of the bottle over my chest. 

"If alcohol were water, you'd be better than a divining rod."

Gemma sets the bottle down and goes to getting changed.  I am no prude, but every fighter has a ritual when they get dressed, so I move back to Megan's side to give Gemma her moment.

I look at the footage and see more moves that make me realize my comparison to Muta may be more spot on than I thought. I put my hand on Megan's shoulder again and lean down so I can see the screen head on.  She turns her head to say something to me, but then sees I'm focused on the screen. She turns and rewinds it a little.

"That move right there. Back a bit more.  Yeah. That's Keiji.  I'd know that anywhere. We ran in the same circles in Dallas and the Carolinas.  Sunuva*BEEP*"

Before I could expound more, I feel a disturbance in the force and I know Callista's arrived.

*minutes later*

I look into the camera like I'm staring the cameraman down, before a slow smile peeks out onto the corner of my lips. "That rarest of rarities, a clever American, once said that winning wasn't everything...it was the only thing."

"A title is about winning more than just a match. It's about winning life. Winning out over all those who thought you weren't good enough. Winning out over everyone who said you didn't have what it took. Winning out over everyone who said you did things 'the wrong way.'"

"'The right way' seems to be smiling as houses and buyrates diminish. It seems to involve getting implants and wrestling in spandex bikini bottoms with a push-up bra. It seems to be cashing out paydays while you can still get them and smiling at the punters so they'll buy your t-shirts. It's fiddling while the boat sinks, and trusting you've crawled over enough bodies to make sure you've got a place on the last raft casting off."

"WELL *BLEEP* YOUR 'RIGHT WAY!'" I shout, eyes blazing. "If that's the right way, then you can shove your 'right way' up your *BLEEP*in' arse! Because I'll be *BLEEEEEEP* sideways if I've given my blood, sweat, and tears to turn into THAT!"

Clenching my teeth, I force my face back into a semblance of its usual calm. "Lie to yourself, if you must. Pretend I'm not speaking the simple, bitter truth, if it helps you sleep at night. But the fact is that I am right. Wrestling needs to be saved. It needs to be brought back from the brink. Dragged back, kicking and screaming, if need be."

"I'm the only one who can. I'm the only one who can see what needs to be done with the guts to get down in the mud and DO it. A Visionary Mercenary. Someone who can read the lay of the land and draw the line where it must be drawn."

"Well that line is being drawn right before you. Countdown is going to turn that tide, right here in FTW, and step 1 is the FTW championship."

"Sadie Davis. I watched your match. Repeatedly. I wonder if you thought to prepare yourself quite so well? No matter. You were tenacious, determined, and above all, you were cunning. I applaud that, all of it, but it won't help you tonight."

"I am more tenacious, more determined, and maybe even a bit more cunning? Perhaps. Regardless, if you are counting on a timely accident to yet again allow you to prevail..." that smirk pokes it's way onto my face once more, "you will be waiting a long time for that accident."

And then I give the camera a wink before walking away.

*Seconds Later*

I'm walking down the hallway, chatting into my mobile. "Victor, it's Callista. The Visionary Mercenary line is a go. Set the merch to active on-site." After a pause, I close my eyes, before continuing "M-E-R, C-E-N, A-R-Y. ....very good."  Gemma and I have a booze-bet on how well that'll sell in its first month. She has no appreciation for alliteration.

I tuck the phone back in my pocket, giving the door in front of me a perfunctory knock before letting myself in, taking a seat and smiling across the desk. "Hello, Commissioner..."

*fade to commercial*

RP:  Tonight's FTW Fury is brought to you tonight by a brand new sponsor, Olive's Baby Oil.

LvK: (muttering just before the scene dissolves) Oh that's a good one Rick, that can't be real. Olive Oil?


*scene cuts to the back as FTW rookies Randi and Billie Mulkey are walking and discussing things*

RM: You'll do fine out there Billie. Much better than me having to debut against that Enforcer guy. I'm still hurting from some of those slams.

BM:  I don't know Randi, That Eddy looks to be one mean guy too.

*suddenly a new face to FTW appears...he is 5'10 and 170lbs and looks to be in good shape.  He's wearing a fancy red velvet coat, black slacks with matching boots as well as a pair of Aviator shades, his dark black and slicked back, sporting a pretty deep tan and he speaks with an accent that's European but otherwise unintelligible*

SF: Ah, ladees. Allow moi to assist.  Eye have overheaard you sayingk you are nairvoose about your match tonight!  Have noo feear for Eye, Savoir Faire, will give you de seeecrit to havingk a good match.  Heere is Olive's Baby Oil.  Eye put some on myself and voila! Eye am de Cymbal of Parfection! Please, give it a try

*the two women look at each other and Randi takes the bottle as Billie just recoils slightly.  She looks at Randi wondering why she took the bottle*

RM: Oh, Mister Faire, *giggles* Thank you sooooo very much.  I don't have a match tonight, but I would love to try this out.  Would you, like to give me some pointers?

*Savoir Faire holds his arm out and offers to escort Randi back to a private room.  Billie just watches with her jaw dropped in shock.*

Olive's Baby Oil, helping wrestlers achieve that slick look since 1979!

RP: *on the phone* Yes, I'd like a barrel sent to the arena.  Yes, I'll pay for fast shipping.

LvK: *mumbling* The *BEEP* I have to put up with. It's like this *BEEP* was put together in a hurry.  Quick, next segment please.

Back from commercial the scenes cuts in the backstage, the camera moves along the corridors until it stops to a door with the written "Emily Layne" upon it.

The door is slight opened and the camera moves in, the lights is on and shows the room which is strangely empty.
Only a mirror on the side wall and a chair with some black clothes over it.
No furniture, no tables, no benches,nothing.
The camera pans across the empty grey walls before the attention is caught to the far wall which it has something hanging on the wall.

Slowly the images gets more clear.
Four 20 x 30 centimeters posters are hanging there. (for the ones that don't use metric system, find a damn converter!)

The camera pans across the images.
The first is a pic of Red Enforcer in his wrestling gear, showing only his upperparts, his arms crossed under his bare chest and the red mask covering his face.
The second is a pic of Callista Quinn, hands on her hips, classic smug look,wearing a white Countdown t shirt and one of her hoodids.
The third one shows Punky, the white zombie shirt covered by her fist launched forward, middle fingers up toward the camera.
And the fourth is a pic of Gemma, a halter green top, hands on her hips, chin lifted up, round breasts pushed forward.

RP: *whispers* I always knew she is a fan of The Countdow..

LVK: *covers RP Mic with his right hand and loudly whispers* Shut up Perle!

The images look clean from distance,but when the camera gets closer there are some little maculas on them, like little bullet holes all over the faces and bodies of the Countdowners.
Suddenly the camera turns and catches a whooshing noise

WHOOOSH

Followed by a thud.
Camera moves to the posters and zooms over Callie pic, a little red dart is hanging on Callie neck and the camera slides forward like scared.

WHOOSH

WHOOSH

WHOOSH

THUD

THUD

THUD

Three more whooshing noises,  three more darts hitting the other member of The Countdown.
Punky cheek, Gemma breast and Red forehead.

"Surprise surprise"

The camera turns and points at me, wearing black tight jeans, silver sneakers and a black sleeveless  t shirt with a white huge written
"I HATE
THE COUNTDOWN" which shows the big wicked angel tattoo through my right shoulder and upper bicep.
Hair free to loose over my shoulders, red lipstick and black eyeliner complete my look as I smile at the camera before moving to the wall and I carefully tug all darts off the images.

"four in a row, not bad, don't you think?" my face points to the camera, my hands toying with the four darts, standing there close to the wall.

"You all saw what happened two weeks ago during First Strike, funny thing is that we have still people talkin about the Tag team match..was it a tag team match? Seriously?"

My left hand holds three darts, the other dart in my right hand pointing at the camera.

"Two on one, is that you call a tag team match?"

The right hand suddenly spins and roughly shoves the tip of the dart against Callie face.

"they know that one on one they wouldn't stand a chance!"

I yank the dart off Callie pic and take one step back along the wall

"One on one, they will fall one by one...starting with.."

My body suddenly and slightly spins around, the three darts in my left hand end all over Punky nose and mouth, shoved them by a quick movement of my left hand.

"because The Countdown's time is over and I will personally take care about that!
You pretend to be here for the salvation of wrestling, you better care for your own salvation, cause things are gonna change, from tonight! I don't need a mask! I don't need to run! FTW is MY place and the championship belt will be where it belongs, around MY waist!"

I pause for a moment.

"Punky, you didn't get lucky, you will be the first in my path, get ready to go down! Unless decide to get back to Portland, selling donuts at weddings"

The camera zooms to Punky image hanging on the wall with three darts through her face.

WHOOSH

THUD

The fourth dart suddenly flies and hits on Punky forehead.

Then smash cuts to the already seen graphic with the Fury's dark violet backdrop.
On one side we have the imagine of Emily Layne, on the other side Punky with her zombie shirt and a white large written on the bottom "LATER TONIGHT"

RP: I think that your girls have some psychological issues.

LVK: Are you talking about Dow? She isn't my girl

RP: We saw Chance in a porn/horror movie setting, now Layne playing darts like in the cheapest Irish pub of New Orleans between pints of lager, what's next?

LVK: I won't say anything this time

Shots cuts to the dark violet graphic of before, this time showing on the left Callista Queen in her hoodie and Sadie Davis on the other side.

LVK: Production is reminding us about the two big matches of tonight, both valid for the Heavyweight Champion tournament but now its time for the second match of tonight!

CG: Our next match is one fall with a 10 minute time limit.  First, weighing in at 5'8" and 125lbs hailing from Anderson, South Carolina making her FTW debut, BILLIE MULKEY!!!

A pretty platinum blonde goes to the middle of the ring and waves to the crowd.  She's wearing a dark blue one piece suit with the left side cut out almost to her mid-abs with MULKEY spelled out on the right side of her suit perpendicular to her ribs.  She looks a bit nervous and somewhat lost.

RP: Looks like Savoir Faire is still spreading out the baby oil.

LvK: Will you stop?  *pauses and presses a hand to his headset*  Looks like we've had an issue with our next competitor.  We have some footage it seems.

*Camera cuts to backstage where the Red Enforcer is standing near one of those backstage prop boxes, slamming a fist down on it again and again.  On his way to the Gorilla Position, Eddie Valiant pauses and looks over at the angry wrestler*

EV: Bitches man.  Am I right?

*Red pauses and turns to look at Eddie. Considering his recent run in with Callista it looks like he's about to agree*

EV: I can't believe I let myself get conned by some Alabama hick, Daisy Duke wannabe who's got the sex appeal of a duck. I mean she is just a royal *BEEP*

RP: What? Can you say that word on the air, Larry?

LvK: In England, where Eddie's from, yes you can, but that word is more of a hot button around here.

EV: You know wha---urrrrkkkkkkkkk

*Red has looked up at Eddie and his deep brown eyes have gone cold, almost black. His arm shoots out and his hand grips Eddie's throat and he lifts Eddie up and slams him down hard onto the backstage box.  From there, the Enforcer jerks on Eddie's trenchcoat and lifts him off the box and tosses him into the opposite wall.  He moves in slowly and calculatingly while Eddie grimaces in pain and tries to get his hands up.*

EV: Look mate, /huff huff/, I didn't, /huff huff/, know she /huff huff/

*Red isn't having it and fires a straight left into Eddie's ribs, followed by a right hook into the other side of the ribs, a left hook across his chin and a right uppercut deep into his belly.  Backstage officials come to try and break things up but Red slips behind Eddie and locks him in his swinging full nelson, tossing Eddie around and using his legs to keep the officials at bay.  They back off and Red continues to beat Eddie towards Gorilla*

RP: Didn't realize The Enforcer was so sensitive.

LvK: *rolls his eyes*  That was just moments ago and, look, there they are!

*Eddie's body comes flying out onto the stage and crash lands hard on the steel.  Red comes through and lifts him up by his head, snakes an arm between his legs and slams Eddie hard down onto the stage.  The crowd groans and gasps from the attack.*

LvK: Eddie is trying to fight up, but those punches to the Enforcer's stomach either lack strength or the Enforcer is so mad, he's not feeling them.

RP: I don't think I've ever seen the Enforcer this cold and this violent.  Look he's beating Eddie towards the ring.

*Red gets Eddie to ringside and launches him into the barricade.  Then peels him off and tosses him into the ringpost.  Billie and the ref are just watching in the ring from the opposite corner in horror. *

LvK: Definitely not the way Eddie wanted to make his first entrance into FTW.

RP: Looks like it may be his last, Larry!  Look Red's got him in the center of the ring.

*The Enforcer has Eddy bent over with Eddie's arms crossed in front of him.  The Enforcer hauls him up into the air and slams him down with his patented straitjacket powerbomb.*

RP: Oh Lord Larry, he's not done!  

LvK: The Red Enforcer with a second devastating Hurricane Hugo Bomb!  I think we're going to need some help out here!  Oh no, he's going for a third!

*After slamming Eddie's body down with a third Hurricane Hugo Bomb, the Enforcer turns to the ref and to Billie.  Billie is paralyzed with fear and shock, her body remembering how it felt to be slammed and ragdolled by the Enforcer just one week ago.*

LvK: Look at that folks, Billie has stepped between the Enforcer and the ref! She knows the danger she's in, but she is still trying to do the right thing!

RP:  *is on his cellphone* Yeah, cancel that barrel, looks like the babe is going to the hospital.

*In a loud, angry voice, spittle flying from his lips, the Enforcer shouts at the ref*

RE: Ring the *BEEP BEEP* Bell!  START THE DAMN MATCH!

*Confused, the ref motions to the timekeeper and the bell rings.  Red turns to Billie who is anxious, but hasn't taken a step back*

RE: *growling* What are you waiting for? Pin him!

*Billie looks confused. The Enforcer motions his head towards Eddie's beaten body and nods.  Billie slowly moves over to Eddie and covers him, hooking his far leg.  The Enforcer glowers at the ref who dashes and goes to count the pinfall 1....2......3!!!!!  The bell rings and the Enforcer slips out of the ring*

RP: Waitaminute Keel, how can that count as win?

LvK: Do you really want to tell the Enforcer that didn't count?

RP: Yay!  Way to go Billie! *gets back on his cell* Yeah, cancel that cancel.

LvK:  While the medical staff goes to check on Eddie Valiant, here is a word from our sponsors.

If you're going to spend hours in traffic, pay thirty dollars for parking, and spend the annual food budget of an entire family in Nigeria for a couple hot dogs, all to witness a sporting event live, shouldn't you go to the one sport that doesn't have commercials every two minutes?

It's time America joined the rest of the world.

*footage of a keeper taking a goal kick with the crowd chanting* "YOU SUCK ASSHOLE HAHAHAHAHA!"

Forget 'friendly rivalries'. Come see the sport where home and away fans are routinely separated to prevent riots.

*A portly manager paces the technical area* "WHO ATE ALL THE PIES? WHO ATE ALL THE PIES? YOU FAT BASTARD, YOU FAT BASTARD, YOU ATE ALL THE PIES!"

Nothing shows your worldly nature better than supporting the Beautiful Game. Chant obscenities, light off flares in crowded stadiums, and commit race crimes, just like the sophisticated Europeans do!

"YOU'RE SHIT AND YOU KNOW YOU ARE!"

Come see the game that American can't get it's head around....because it's NOT based around commercials and snack breaks. Maybe you'll even get to see a goal!

RP: Wow, it's a good thing the censors can't blame us for that one.

LvK: *puts his hand on his face and starts rubbing his temples*  I really am glad my kids are in bed now.

*backstage camera shows a scene of the tall masked man of Countdown talking to someone.  As the picture focuses, the person Red is talking to is revealed to be Sadie Davis. *

RED: Look, you know I want to be out there in your corner for this fight, but...I can't. I have to honor my deal....with Gemma.  Callista promised there wouldn't be any interference, but we're all going to be out there, so keep your head on a swivel.

SADIE: No interference? Hmmm...hope Countdown's not going soft. I was kind of really liking her style.

RED:  Well, that's what she said.  Still, don't let your guard down.  *lifts my hand as if to take your arm...pauses and makes a fist and sets it down*  Just be careful out there.

SADIE: Just a head's up, Red...if you're going to be in Callista's corner *stands on my tiptoes to whisper in your ear* it's not me that needs to be careful.

STATIC, which gradually transitions into a highlight video. The scene opens with a wide angle shot of an arena, with a crawler stamped at the bottom corner of the screen

[ The following footage courtesy of  Chaos Wrestling Alliance ]

[ Fatal Discharge PPV - September 2013 ]

The crowds are buzzing. They're just moments away from witnessing the event's final match. Everyone's focusing on the ring that's already filled with the combatants of the main event. One is a young, feisty redhead dressed in a sexy schoolgirl outfit eagerly pacing in her corner. The other is a tall, buxom platinum blonde in alluring leopard print attire, leaning calmly against the turnbuckles of her own corner. The referee cradling the promotions' championship title and the ring announcer are separating both women as they stand in the middle of the ring. The ring bell sounds loudly and the announcer lifts the mic to his lips.

"Ladies and gentlemen...This match is set for one fall, and it is for the Chaos Wrestling Alliance CHAMPIONSHIP!

Introducing first, the challenger! From Toronto Canada. She weighs in at 119 lbs. The Scarlet Rage, Candace Cane!!"

The fiery little redhead stops pacing and hops onto the second rope, thrusting a fist high into the air. She mouths off to the crowd as they don't exactly give her a warm reaction, flipping off a few members of the front row as she hops off the ropes.

"And her opponent! From Jackson, Mississippi! Weighing in at 130lbs. She is the reigning and defending CWA Champion, the Platinum Queen, this, is, Tiffany!!"

The tall busty platinum blonde smiles widely for the fans, who burst into cheers. She steps out of her corner, moves to the middle of the ring, thrusts her fists out to either side of her and tilts her head back to show off her signature pose to her adoring, applauding fans.

It's at this point in the video Nine Inch Nails' "The Hand That Feeds" begins to play.


[ The video cuts to Tiffany charging into the corner with Candace draped over her shoulder, practically throwing her hard into the turnbuckles! She pulls back and rushes in with a closeline, but Candace ducks outta the way at the last second. Tiff misses Candy completely but quickly turns in the corner and charges after the redhead. Candace sees the big blonde bombshell coming at her and hops up, her feet landing on Tiff's thighs while her hands clutch the champ's hair! She pulls back and tosses Tiffany over with a monkey flip! Tiff however manages to flip in mid-air and lands smoothly on her feet! Candy rolls to her own feet, is startled that Tiff landed on her boots instead of her backside, and charges after her as the platinum blonde turns around. Tiffany, at the last second, catches Candy with an armdrag! Candy crashes into the canvas but rolls onto her feet a moment later and the two have a stand-off! ]

[ Cut to Candy at Tiffany, but the Queen catches her with a lunging closeline that nearly knocks the schoolgirls' pigtailed head clean off! ]

[ Cut to Candace flying off the ring apron, at Tiffany who's standing on the floor, catching her with a Tornado DDT that plants Tiff's face right into the padded arena floor! ]

[ Tiffany catches Candace running at her with a snap scoop powerslam! ]

[ Candy snapmares Tiffany, and as the blonde is seated on the canvas, Candy kicks her in the back, then in the face, causing Tiff to snap back onto the mat! Candy quickly runs the ropes, bounces off of em, and comes back at Tiff with a running shooting star press! ]

[ Tiffany lifts Candace right off the mat by her waist, flips her over onto her shoulder, and runs to the turnbuckle, and launches her into the corner with a Gutwrench Powerbomb! ]

[ Candace is running to the corner with Tiffany in hot pursuit. Candy smoothly hops onto the second rope, climbs up to the top, and jumps off of it, backflipping over the charging Tiffany! She lands right behind her, grabs her around the waist, and throws Tiffany backward with a German Suplex! ]

[ Tiffany with a Head and Arms Belly-to-Belly Overhead Suplex! ]

[ Candy with a spinning heel kick to Tiffany who's perched on the top rope! She falls to the floor. A dazed Tiffany is getting to her feet on the floor while Candace is running toward her inside the ring. She dives UNDER the MIDDLE rope and damn near beheads Tiffany! ]

[ Candace tries to reach over the top rope to pull Tiffany into the ring, but Tiff drops off the apron and grabs Candy's ankles. She yanks on her legs, causing Candace to drop onto the mat. Tiff pulls Candace's legs toward her so they drape over her shoulders. She yanks Candace out of the ring from under the bottom rope, still holding on her her legs. She spins around--and SMASHES Candy right into the guardrail! ]

[ Tiffany with an atomic drop inside the ring which causes Candace to bounce off of Tiff's knee and stand upright while holding her tailbone! Tiffany gets up quickly, runs past Candy, bounces off the ropes, and comes runs FULL-FORCE at the Scarlet Rage with a running boot to the face! ]

[ Candace comes flying off the top rope with a springboard closeline that catches Tiffany and sends her crashing into the canvas! ]

[ Candace and Tiffany are on the top rope and Candy hits a beautiful top rope sunset flip powerbomb that folds Tiff up! ]

[ Candy has Tiffany locked in her own submission finisher, the Peacekeeper! Candace has the Chickenwing Crossface is locked in tight and Tiff is fighting to keep Candace from wrapping her legs around her waist. Tiff is on her knees with Candy cinching the hold in tightly, finally able to lock her legs around the bigger woman's waist! Tiff is shown fading as Candy cranks the hold, tightening it as much as she can on Tiffany! Tiff finally makes it to the ropes and the ref has to pry Candy off of the Platinum Queen! ]

[ Tiffany is next seen tied up in the ropes, both her arms stretched out and tangled tightly in the middle and top ropes! Candy is standing over her, clutching her hair and screaming obscenities into Tiff's face. She then SMACKS the taste right out of her former mentor's mouth, doing it again for good measure! Candy then releases Tiff's hair and the champ's head hangs low, hovering over her chest. Candace backs away and mocks Tiff some more by doing her trademark pose, then with a wicked smirk she moves back to the helpless Tiffany--only to get KICKED right in the mid-section as Tiff abruptly comes back to life! She staggers back, clutching her tummy and Tiffany untangles herself from the ropes and CHARGES at Candy, SPEARING her right outta her boots! ]

[ The Platinum Queen comes charging through the ropes at Candace who's standing dazedly on the floor, diving at her with a wicked suicide dive that sends the schoolgirl crashing back into the barricade! ]

[ Tiffany PLANTS Candace with a double-underhook powerbomb! ]

[ Tiff attempts to hit a belly-to-back suplex but Candy flips out of it, lands on her feet, and as Tiffany turns around, the Scarlet Rage smashes her face in with a rolling koppo kick! ]

[ Tiffany WHIPS Candace into the corner, face first, and as she bounces off the turnbuckles and staggers back, Tiff grabs her and launches her across the ring with a Tiger Suplex! ]

[ Tiffany hits Candy with a tilt-ta-whirl backbreaker, but holds Candy's body over her knee for a moment. Tiff turns her body, leans over, wraps her right arm over Candy's neck to hook the Scarlet Rage's head. Tiffany then SNAPS back, her back landing on the mat while Candy's face just whips forward and smacks right into the canvas! ]

[ Candace leaps at Tiffany from the top rope, but gets caught! Tiff repositions her on her shoulders--and PLANTS her with the Platinum Justice! ]

[ Candace with the School Driver! (Inverted Spike Franeksteiner) Cover! 1....2....KICKOUT!! ]

[ Tiffany attempts to plant Candace with another Platinum Justice, but Candy reverses it by wiggling around and seating herself ONTOP of Tiffany's shoulders! It looks like she's trying to hit her School Driver finisher again! But Tiff holds her ground, manages to block the move--and LIFTS Candy up to drape her back over her shoulders! A moment later, Tiffany throws Candy's legs up into the air, hooks her head, and DRILLS the schoolgirl right into the mat with a devastating DDT! FLATLINER! She covers! ]


1...2....3!!

[ An exhausted, battered but still smiling Tiffany is shown kneeling in the middle of the ring, one arm cradling her CWA Championship, the other arm raised high above her head in victory. The NIN track concludes and the scene slows down on the Platinum Queen as she celebrates a successful title defines. The highlight video fades to black.. ]

*Scene opens up to an outdoor concert full of crazy fans swaying along to a typical college band*

(voiceover) "Once we were a mediocre college band, but everyone has to grow up."

*Scene cuts to an office scene with the band members now in cubicles typing away on computers*

(voiceover) "Now, we help keep your identity safe on the Internet, using our extensive knowledge of anti-malware techniques"

*Scene of the band in suits jamming in the office*

(voiceover) "But we can still rock with the best of them."

(announcer voice) When you need internet security, use Phish Phishing Security. The name you can trust!

*stirring, patriotic music plays*

We at Major League Baseball would like to remind you that we're still here, and we're still America's pastime...whatever the *BEEP* that means.

*visual of a team of players walking out onto the pitfield*

Do you want all the excitement of a living sporting event without all that tedious action? Look no further. We're probably playing a game today.

*slow-motion shot of a batter swinging*

For people who like their sports at a slower, more refined pace, there's baseball. Only don't fall asleep...

*shot of a sleeping fan getting brained by a foul ball*

We're Major League Baseball. For the love of God, buy a ticket!

A ticking clock.

"This message has been brought to you by the Countdown."

There is a hissing sound, like serpents telling secrets.  Then the faint tin clatter of a shaken can of spray paint, as sound as familiar as Christmas to vandals and miscreants everywhere.  The shot fades in on the back of the Countdown's own resident miscreant (one of them, anyway) "Punky" Meg Dow.  Punky has her back to the camera, facing the broad side of one of the beautiful restored boxcars of Scranton's historic Steamtown railway exhibit. She is spraying thick lines of black over a base of glittering gold.

"When Eris wanted to *BEEP* over the gods, she gave them a little gold trinket to fight over."

Punky's toxic-sweet voice is curiously hollow.  She turns and looks over her shoulder, purple hair tumbling down the back of her glossy leather jacket.  She is wearing a gas mask, stylized to look like a horned silver skull.

With a last hiss of aerosol paint, she adds another swoop of black to the unseen graffito she is working on and then turns and drops to sit on the footrail of the meticulously restored and now thoroughly tagged boxcar.  The devilish skull mask comes off with a tug, dangling from her fist as she tosses paint cans into her bag with hollow clanks. The Purple Vixen grins in the shadows of Steamtown.

"Calli the Fearless *BEEP*ing Leader wants to save wrestling.  Dear Emily wants justice, the kind that's served *BEEP*ing cold. Little Sadie wants the whole *BEEP*ing world to see her as more than a hot ass.  And in the pretty mirror world of the GOLD, they see all their dreams coming true."

She chuckles, throaty and soft, and splays her arms wide with a soft smug creak of the oiled leather of her chromed jacket.

"Let the *BEEP*ing fairest take the *BEEP*ing apple.  KALLISTI! I'm in the *BEEP*ing tournament to do the same *BEEP*ing thing I joined the *BEEP*ing Countdown to do."

She leans close, filling the screen, her dark eyes manic and glossy black lips curved into a grin.

"To burn down the *BEEP*ing stars and destroy everything in my path like *BEEP*ing Shiva."

The Priestess of Chaos closes her hands into fists with a soft creak of the leather of her fingerless gloves, and the soft thuggish bone crackle of her brawler's knuckles.

"Emily, darling. Dove. Tesoro.." She purrs the Italian endearment, rolling the R with her pierced tongue.  "You have no *BEEP*ing idea what you're *BEEP*ing in for.  You think it was bad when Rowan left you high and *BEEP*ing dry with Gemma and I?  That was us being NICE.  That was us being SWEET.  That was Gemma going *BEEP*ING EASY on you, soft-*BEEP*ing-hearted kitten that she is." Punky's dark eyes gleam with the light of the camera, avid and hungry. "I am gonna rip you to *BEEP*ing shreds.  I'm gonna to burn you down like *BEEP*ing Pompeii.  I'm gonna salt the *BEEP*ing earth where you stood so nothing ever *BEEP*ing grows there again.  And the funniest part?"

That toxic giggle, sweet as poison honey.

"I'm not doing it for the *BEEP*ing GOLD.  I'm doing it because you're in my *BEEP*ing way."

The mask is pulled on again, the horned silver skull covering that deceptively sweet fey face, the big dark eyes hidden behind round lenses the bright blank white of the moon.  She speaks again, hollow as a dark voice heard from your closet just as you go to sleep.

"Sadie, sweetness.  I'll *BEEP*ing RSVP. I'll show you what happens when little girls write cute *BEEP*ing invitations to the monsters that live in the shadows."

Suddenly Punky lunges, snatching the camera, which shudders in her grip, giving the perspective the illusion of sweet terrified writhing.

"And if Rowan wants to stop her little J-pop horror show and come get broken again, I *BEEP*ING WELCOME it. FTW doesn't KNOW what the *BEEP* a *BEEP*ing monster is, but I'll *BEEP*ing show them."

She snarls into the camera with her voice echoing in the horned skull respirator like a crypt.

"I'm a grim *BEEP*ing fairy tale with a bloody *BEEP*ing ending."

She drops out of the shot and into the night, and the camera straightens - and lingers on the tag she left behind, sprayed in bright gold and deep black on the meticulously painted Scranton Steamtown railcar: a great big stylized gleaming golden apple, with Greek-style letters slashing black across the plump gilded face, reading PUNKY.

Fade to black.

A ticking clock is heard.

"This message has been brought to you by the Countdown."

(Buy the Punky Skull Mask (http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51VeMVt%2BZZL._SX342_.jpg) at ftwshop.com, countdownwrestling.com/gear, and punkymerch.com!)

RP: These women scare me.

LvK: Me too, Rick.

*ticktickticktickticktickticktickticktickALARM!*

The dings and dongs and clinks and clanks and rings of the alarm bells sound, and the lights go low. The keytar refrain sounds, and the video wall lights up. The Red Enforcer slams one Mulkey cousin onto another. Gemma and Megan hit the Stroke of Midnight on Rowan Chance. I put Lisa Starr's head into the mat with a Kudo Driver. Mag-lite blows and chairshots and gorilla press slams out of the ring, showing the carnage we've wreaked here in FTW.

I push through the curtain, my Countdown compatriots close behind me as the boos rain down from the rafters. The same teal boots and pads I wore at First Strike adorn my legs, as does the bottom of that matching one-piece sticking out from underneath the black hoodie I've got on.
Why the one-piece? Because it's more comfortable. The same garment over my shoulders is between my legs, so I don't have to worry about one half or the other wandering in some direction and giving more of a show then I mean to! Seen enough girls start to take a German and end up showing their Brazilian instead!

When I approach the ring, I point Gemma to one spot, and Megan to another, stationing them on opposite sides of the aisle to act as welcoming committee. I may have promised Red no beatdowns, but I guarantee he warned Sadie to keep her guard up. Let's take advantage of that, shall we?

LvK: Oh what is this?

RP: I think it's friendly! It's like an Honor Guard!

LvK: ...

RP: Would you believe Walmart greeters?

I point Red to the far side of the ring from the entryway. I can see his jaw set, but I say, "Deal's still on," before climbing up the stairs and stepping through the ropes, facing up the aisle as my music dies down.

My jaw sets. It's not the low-budget animated mockery that annoys me quite so much as the implication that because I'm older than this little twit....steady, Calli. Keep calm. You're better than her. Don't forget it.

I try for calm, try to ignore the entrance, but that little bit with the pen through my name just sets my blood boiling again. When Sadie sends a taunt my way, I keep the stoneface in place, which is the best I can manage just at the moment.

Clenching my teeth and wondering why I'm letting her get to me, I slide the hoodie up and over my head, when I see my opponent give Red the finger. A wave of tension rushes out of me as I realise what's been skirting the edges of my consciousness.

If I were fighting against me, and it was the other me that had Countdown behind her, what would I do? Step 1, neutralise the outside help. Presuming I chose to stick to the agreement I'd made with Red: Check. Step 2, throw me off my game. Not a check, but she came damned close.

That display of anger towards Red was a mistake. It was a real emotion slipped in amidst the mind games. That was one thing about me when I was younger: I was ruled by my emotions, rather than vice versa. And now I had sussed out what was bothering me about Sadie's ploy: How much it resembled one of my own.

Time to take control, back. I pull the Maglite out of the hoodie's pocket. The ref blinks in surprise, as if he can't believe what he was seeing, but he quickly recovers, stepping in between me and Sadie. I turn away, however, dropping the hoodie in my corner (and trusting no one would check for the pair of brass knuckles in there now that I'd pulled out my trademark weapon,) and handing the Maglite down to Red.

Behind his mask, Red's eyes blaze. I couldn't care less. He'll hold to the deal, and if I choose to enact a bit of punishment for daring to think he could give me an ultimatum? He can consider it a small price to pay.

Glancing across the ring at my opponent, at the shock and hurt on Sadie's beautiful visage, I smile a bit inside. 'Need to work on that poker face, honey,' I think. Speaking of prices to pay, though, I'll have to pay one myself, now. Sadie's on the edge. Need to push her off of it.

When the bell sounds, she starts to circle, but I step out into the middle of the ring, turning away from her, and holding my arms wide out to the side. Even Megan looks surprised at this, although Gemma's jaw sets as she recognises a tactic I've used before.

'Oh thank fuck' I think, as I see Sadie leap off the top rope. When she's committed, I twist my body a bit, bringing my arms up and crossing them in front of my neck to block the incoming elbow, while getting my legs up and letting the side of Sadie's body smash into my upraised knees.

The opening salvo was as furious as I was expecting, but what I was not expecting was how intelligent and brutal it would prove. She chained holds and strikes quickly, not leaving a good opening for a counter, and not many bad ones, either!

I could have pulled my leg back, when she dropped her arse down onto it, but I'd still have been on the ground, and her likely on her feet, what with her hands on the ropes. Eventually, though, she gave into the desire to put an exclamation point on things in a big way, and went to the top.

Even then, she nearly sussed out that something was wrong. I don't know if my bit of play-acting helped seal the deal, there, but if she'd dropped back down to her feet and tried a more measured attack, I could have been in a spot of trouble!

Alright, enough resting, move. With Sadie still clutching at her side, I reached for her right arm and right leg, digging first my left boot into her side, just underneath the ribs, and then my right, pulling back and letting my long limbs bend her body into a painful crescent.

RP: That's just smart wrestling, Larry! Sadie landed on Callista's knees, and Callista went right after the weak point with a bow-and-arrow!

That was the one other thing Sadie had failed to do. She kept pressure on me, but her attack was a bit unfocused, leaving me generally worse for wear but not overly weakened at any one spot. It was a mistake I wouldn't make.

I could feel my grip on her wrist starting to slip, so I relaxed the hold, pulling my feet out and pressing the soles of my boots against the mat, getting up to a standing position before dropping a quick knee into her ribs, pushing back up to my feet before dropping another in the same spot.

Deciding I'd bought myself enough time, I grabbed a fistful of Sadie's hair, pulling her up off of the mat, and standing her up in front of me, my back to her front. I stepped forward with my left leg, getting it in front of hers. I leaned forward, barring her right arm and tucking her bicep under my left arm before straightening up, locking in the abdominal stretch.

My right arm was free, so I balled up my fingers and drove a few short, straight punches into her rib cage, eliciting pained yelps every time I did. I could feel her hand pawing at my head, and I taunted, "Trying to pull my hair, Sadie? And here I was almost starting to like you..."

Fingers thrust into my throat, stealing the breath out of me, but suddenly my hair is yanked backwards, forcing me to look into the eyes of my opponent. She taunts me, and I do see the red mist descending, but it also focuses me. I take a bounce off the ropes, come running back....and there it is.

That high-cross body. I'd been waiting for that. I put the brakes on as best I can, pushing back as I reach up with my hands. She still takes me off my feet, of course, but my feet are pushing backwards, so rather than going straight down onto my back, I roll back, kicking my legs upwards and taking me up and over.

I get the soles of my boots down to the mat, and I push upwards, straining the muscles in both my legs and my arms as I push myself up off of the mat, bringing my opponent with me, one arm under her head, the other between her legs.

Letting out a primal scream as the rage and adrenaline overtake me, I stick my left knee out in front of me, the one Sadie'd been working on, and I drop down, bringing her right side crashing down across it. Let's see what's in worse shape, shall we?

RP: Don't make Callista Quinn angry. You won't like her when she's angry.

LvK: Do you think she's going to be angry when I tell her you just compared her to The Hulk?

RP: YOU WON'T LIKE ME WHEN I'M ANGRY EITHER, VAN KEEL!

LvK: I don't much like you normally.

RP: ...that hurts.

I stand again, Sadie's body still in my arms, then I again drop her down across that knee. Doing so sends a wave of pain through me, and the pain focuses my thoughts, lets me know that rush of adrenaline is fading.

My face reddening, my limbs going rubbery, I lurch forward. Not able to lift Sadie any higher, I keep going, pushing Sadie between the top and middle ropes and letting go of her as I do.

She drops down onto the apron, and from there, down to the thin padding covering the arena floor. I slump against the tope rope, breathing heavily as I stagger to the corner, using the pads there for support.

My instinct is to pull the ref over, but through the fog of pain and fatigue, I remember the agreement with Red, so I back off, and the ref turns to count as Gemma and Megan stride up towards Sadie.

I take advantage of the time Sadie's out of the ring to take a bit of a breather. I'm not idle, though, and as soon as she moves, so do I. When Sadie comes back into the ring, I step forward, swinging my foot and landing a football-style kick right to Sadie's ribs. She curls up, clutching at her side. I stomp on her twice more, pushing her face-down with my boot before lifting an arm and dropping my elbow onto her side.

She coughs and moans as she lies there, and I reach down for her, grabbing hold of her hair and the back of her bottoms, labouriously picking her up off of the mat. When I get her to her feet, I turn her to the side a bit, leaning forward and wrapping my arms around her waist.

Taking a deep breath, I push upwards, squeezing all the pressure I could in the gutwrench lift before she's completely upside down, then lifting her up the rest of the way and dropping her on her back in a power bomb that left both of us laying on the ground.

I push forward, laying my body high across hers, and pressing her shoulders to the mat. She can probably kick out, but she'll have to tax those weakened core muscles to do it. I hear the ref's hand slap the mat, and he counts "ONE!"

RP: Callista with a big power bomb on Sadie.

LvK: And she's going for the pinfall. One. Two. Three?

RP: She got her!

The ref counts three, the bell rings, and the crowd rains down a mass of boos upon me, (albeit mixed in with a few cheers. Lindsay must have some fans out there...or maybe Eddy!) I stand up to get my hand raised, looking down and thinking, 'That was...unexpected.' Sadie lies there on the mat, but as the others come into the ring, she rolls out under the rope, scampering up the aisle, holding her side.

I let the others raise my hands again, but I fix my eyes on Sadie, locking eyes with her as she glances back towards the ring. I purse my lips and my brows furrow. I know what just happened.

RP: The youngster Sadie Davis put in a strong showing against the leader of the Countdown, but a couple times in this match, she took risks that didn't pay off. *footage of the high cross body followed by the roll-through into the back breaker*

LvK: You've gotta take risks if you want to climb that ladder, Rick, but I have to give the devil her due. When openings appeared, Callista capitalised. *footage of the power bomb*

Worry about that later. Duty calls. I make my way over to the camera, putting an arm around Megan's shoulders and saying, "Countdown doesn't threaten! Countdown promises! Everything we say, we do! At Second Coming, it's going to be one of our arms that are raised, and it'll be around one of our waists that the belt wraps around." The cameraman jumps back off the apron before Gemma can "accidentally" knee him in the bollocks, and the four of us head back up the aisle, laughing and slapping hands as we go.

As we do, Red leans my way, and murmurs, "What the hell was that?"

"Haven't the faintest," I answer back...which was true at the time. For now...well, I had to find out the hard way. Seems no great crime to make Red undertake the same...

The image cuts to a graphic of the FTW Championship Belt. On one side of the screen, Callista Quinn. On the other side, a question mark.

RP: One finalist for our main event is now known. Will Countdown make it 2 for 2?

LvK: If they can, what will Countdown do when only one of them can win?

*fade to commercial*

A red R logo appears.

VOICEOVER: This commercial has been rated R for adult language and situations.

There is the pop of a champagne bottle.

Two men elegantly dressed in throwback jerseys and vintage JNCO jeans are tableside at a soiree taking place in the lobby of an Elks Lodge somewhere in the Rust Belt.  One has popped the cork of a bottle of ch- no, wait, that's sparkling wine. Definitely not champagne.  Anyway, he pours it foaming into a plastic Dixie cup.

After a moment, they're recognizable as hip-hop legends and former WWF tag champions, Grandmaster Sexay and Scotty 2 Hotty.

SCOTTY: What is that, André?

SEXAY: *with a wry grin* No.

SCOTTY: Barefoot Samoan?

SEXAY: OHHHHHH, gimme a HELL no! This is that Tito Santana champagne!

SCOTTY: Oh shit, Santana PDM? That's my joint!

SEXAY: Mine too, but a lot of these jabronis don't know about it.

SCOTTY: WELL, LET'S TELL THESE MOTHERFUCKERS!

Both men put on sunglasses, with Brian Christopher adding a beanie hat.

# As a kid, I used to lay awake and think
# When was Santana gonna make a drink?
# But now I'm all grown and my dream came true
# Santana champagne, from him to you
# From the heart of Mission Texas and the forearm king
# Comes a sparkling wine, to make a blind man sing

# Yo it's the sweet thing, from the '89 King of the Ring
# What's the first name in champ - it's Tito!
# The man who invented the Flying Burrito!
# In the 80s, he did lots of J-O-Bs
# But now he gets you drunk with the ABV!

Rikishi arrives, wearing a Hawaiian shirt.

RIKISHI: Hey boys. They sayin' Tito Santana has made a champagne?

SEXAY: That's right, motherfucker! Here, try it.

RIKISHI: A'ight.

The sound of pouring.

RIKISHI: AWWWWWWWWW ... SHIT~!

He is now wearing bright yellow sunglasses.

# I feel alive for the first time
# Each sip hits my lips like a landmine
# Without Tito in my life I was livin' a lie
# His figure-4 makes you weep, but his champagne cries
# He's a Tex-Mex high-flyin' IC champ
# Comin straight out the box with a bowl o' champ'!
# Yo, he a beast with the sugar and yeast, mix it in pots,
# Like his tag career went from the bottom to the tops!

Tito Santana arrives in the lobby, wearing his El Matador costume.

TITO: Compadres, compadres, what is all the hubbub about?

TOO COOL: *collectively* Tito Santana!

TITO: Sí! I see you cholos are enjoying my sparkling wine!

SCOTTY: We certainly are!

TITO: Well, be careful, esé.  This shit'll get you FUCKED UP!  OLÉ!

Fade to a bottle of Santana PDM dripping condensation, sitting in what is pretty clearly a stolen hotel ice bucket on a card table with a white vinyl tablecloth, and two clear plastic glasses full of foaming wine.

VOICEOVER: Santana PDM.  Drink responsibly.  Olé. 

Brought to you by Lonely Island Marketing, LLC.

LVK: And we are back live, ready for the main event of this second episode of FTW fury!
Who will face Callista Quinn in the final of the championship tournament to crown the first ever FTW heavyweight champion?


CG: Ladies and gentlemen we are ready for the main event of tonight. the following contest is set for one fall, introducing first. Hailing from Milan Italy, standing at 5'7" and weighting at 135, Emilyyyyz "The Angel" Layneeeeeeeeeee

I'm standing behind the curtains, cold eyes, concentrated, focused, I hear my music cuts, speakers blow "Radioactive" by Imagine Dragons

The titantron is completely black. Also the lights fade away and the arena is dark.
Then a huge writing appears across the Titantron


After a quick second goes the

Then another quick second and

And finally

The writing stays there for some seconds,flashing the arena.

Soon a Red no enter sign appears over the "THE COUNTDOWN" part of the written, a red circle with a red oblique bar in the middle, it flashes in red over the white written.

The crowd loves it and cheer wildly.
Images of my previous matches appear, replacing the huge written and I wait for my cue to make my way out in the stage

#Welcome to the new age

#Welcome to the new age

I finally appear, I stop before the ramp, lookin down to the ring, I look like I am not caring about the crowd, I pose with my hands on my hips before making my way down, ignoring the guys on the first rows tryin to give me high fives.
But inside me I'm happy to see that there already "I HATE THE COUNTDOWN" signs hanging through the crowd, the merchandising worked well.

(you can find signs and shirts at www.emilylayne.truewrestling.com/merch)

RP: I need to get few words with the production, they can't allow such lame use of the lights and screen

LVK: Emily Layne looks ready to take on Punky. She looks concentrated and ready for action

RP: she is making her fans sad! Such a meany she is!

LVK: I think she is just focused on the match of tonight, her plan is to take care of her enemies and tonight she will face one of them, its her chance to take her revenge on Dow, the two already faced in the main event of First Strike!

RP: Someone should do a blood alcohol test on her, I don't really think she is conditions to have a wrestling match

LVK: then we will have to check on Gemma Rox, as well!

RP: but she is British! They can hold their liquor! Have you ever been around a Italian drunk, Van Keel?

I'm wearing black laced boots, black knee pads, black booty shorts with white thunderbolts across the sides of them, a black shirt with the "I HATE THE COUNTDOWN" logo is covering my upperbody and the black spandex top, crossed on my back.
As soon I make my way between the mid and top ropes I take off the shirt, the crowd roars and I throw the shirt toward the first rows, exposing the top,cut just under my breasts,exposing my whole toned belly.

Taps wrapped around my elbows and a single black fingerless glove complete my outfit for tonight.

I lean down,facing the gorilla position, where my rival will appear, hands on my thighs, eyes deeply staring in front of me.

LVK: Emily has a killer look I can tell! She is ready for this main event! She was waiting for this one since the end of last ppv

RP: *stares at my bent butt* she has something else too from this angle!

The house lights dim and blue and white lights flare accusingly across the crowd, looking for dissidents and people not wearing enough Countdown merch.

Time is clearly almost up, as a big antique brass pocket watch appears on the screen, mercilessly ticking down.

ticktickticktickticktick

The image of the watch shatters apart on the big video screen as Henry Rollins roars out his screaming defiance on the loudspeakers in the blazing chorus of Black Flag's "Forever Time".

#TIIIIIIIIME!  TIME!  TIME!
#FOREVER TIME!
#IT'S TIME TO KISS ME GOODBYE
#ONE LAST TIME!
#IT'S TIIIIIME!

While our latest greatest hits video plays (with a very cool gear-wheel vignette effect on the edges of the screen that I'm proud of, made in AfterEffects) showing the Countdown obliterating everyone, the lights all flare away from the stage and then come back to a focus on it, and when they do, I'm there.

Crouched in the center of the stage, with my silver skull vapor mask (Buy the Punky Skull Mask (http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51VeMVt%2BZZL._SX342_.jpg) at ftwshop.com, countdownwrestling.com/gear, and punkymerch.com!) and my chromed and spiked leather jacket gleaming in the lights, my hands dangling over my bent knees, I tilt my head to watch the ring like a gargoyle.

I survey the audience with eyes as blank and bright as stars, wondering if the broken Black Widow is hiding out there in the shadows.  But if she is?  Let her come.

I rise to my Docs sinuously, and move down the aisle like a drift of toxic smoke as the Black Flag fades inevitably to the keytar triumph of "The Final Countdown". 

My jacket hangs loose over my new Stroke of Midnight shirt - it's white and features a black outline of the nuclear Doomsday Clock with STROKE OF MIDNIGHT written in WarGames font underneath. The shirt is cut to my taste, the sleeves ripped away and my tight belly bared, worn over a white sports bra. My fists and wrists are Cactus Jack-wrapped in black tape. My little black vinyl joshi skirt flutters around my hips, cinched over black Lycra boyshorts with a wide chrome-studded white leather belt.  Rocking my new black knee socks with the broken white skulls down the sides and my usual blood-red Doc Martens.

I move down the aisle, turning my head this way and that, grinning behind the metal rictus of the respirator at how children push back from the railing when my moon-bright skull eyes fall on them.  My purple punkytails hang down my back, held with silver skull clasps.

The keytar keeps rocking as I reach the ring apron, tilting my head up to look Emily in the eye, my glossy black lips curved in a smirk as I peel my skull mask off.

"HAILING FROM THE CITY OF ROSES, WEIGHING MORE THAN ENOUGH TO KICK YOUR ASS AND STANDING TALLER THAN ..."

Charlie Guiteau hesitates for a moment before remembering he likes his knees unbroken and his spleen unventilated."

"... YOUR MOM, PLEASE BOW YOUR HEAD FOR THE PRIESTESS OF CHAOS, THE POISON FIST OF THE COUNTDOWN ... PUNKY!"

RP: You heard the man, van Keel!  Bow your head!

LvK: I absolutely will not.

RP: Do you want them to beat you with expensive flashlights, Larry?

LvK: They can beat my head into a damn pulp before I bow my head to a woman with purple pigtails and a damn skull fetish.

RP: ... I wonder if that's her only fetish.

LvK: I highly doubt it.

I jump to the apron smoothly and take the top rope in both taped fists, bending low and then vaulting myself neatly over the top rope, slamming the canvas with my heavy Docs and bouncing on my toes, swinging my tattooed arms across my chest.  I shed my jacket and toss it to the ring girl, my dark eyes never leaving Emily.

The girl looks determined.  Furious.  Ready to kill.

I grin.

Good.

For a moment, Emily's eyes shift back and forth in paranoid confusion. The referee looks equally non-plussed. I slouch back in the corner, innocently awaiting my chance to be patted down for foreign objects, not sure what all the fuss is about.

LvK: Did ... did Punky come down without the Countdown?

RP: Well, of course!  She doesn't NEED to rely on them.  She's a PROFESSIONAL.  She's a LEGEND in this business.  She -

The music keeps playing, the Final Countdown still ticking down, and as the keytars surge through the chorus the audience boos as the white and blue spotlights flare back to the stage and catch Calli emerging in her hoodie, flanked by the Red Enforcer and G-Force.  The three of them come down the aisle to a chorus of boos as Emily glares hatefully at me, the referee sighs and tries to remember how long he has until retirement, and I grin innocently and shrug.

RP: - she has FRIENDS, van Keel, something you wouldn't know about, and your friends don't leave you alone in your time of need!  They're out here to make sure the playing field is nice and level, just like they did when Calli took on Sadie.

LvK: The Countdown's thugs intimidated Sadie Davis at every turn and forced her into a series of rash decisions that may have caused her to just GIVE UP on the match!

RP: ... but they never touched her.

LvK: So you think the Countdown is just out here to cheer Punky on.

RP: Yep.

LvK: All three of them.

RP: Definitely.

LvK: ... I wonder how much Emily's "I Hate the Countdown" shirts are.

RP: If you get one of those, I'm moving over to the Spanish announce table with Ricardo and El Dandy.

Callista stands at the apron with her back to the aisle and gestures grandly, sending Red to the timekeeper's side and Gemma to the hard camera side.  Emily glances in every direction and I grin brightly, offering my boots and belt for the referee to inspect.

He won't find foreign objects.

I don't need any.

My eyes are locked with Megan eyes for whole time she moves down across the ramp,even when she vaults over the ropes.
Then my attention is grabbed by the other members of The Countdown coming down, with Callista action like a conductor, saying to anyone where to go.

I shake my head in disgust.
I can't believe that Gemma and Red fell so low in their career, being manipulated so easy.
My eyes meet Callista just for a moment, the look is intense.
I try to not show any feelings, but I'm not that good in that, and afterall, after I will be done with Punky, she will be my next target.

The referee has a quick look at Megan, but he prefers to "refuse" her "offer" and moves to me to check my boots.
I just nod,my eyes are on Punky eyes now, tryin to get what she has in mind, that's too hard even for me.
Probably she is still lookin for Rowan, I don't know what's going on between the two, but its for sure something deep and intense, she'd better focus on me though, cause I'm not going to do the mistakes I did in the past.

I'm not the same Emily that came down to the ring when she betrayed Rowan, I'm not the same Emily which stepped in the ring at First Strike.

She suddenly opens her mouth while the ref is done checking my boots,only to mock me in own own language.

"Prima ti picchio come un pesto alla genovese, poi ti finisco piegandoti come un fo *beep*to tortellino!"

LVK: wow, looks like our censored thing works even with other languages! It looks like Punky is doing a masterclass of Italian dishes!

RP: speaking of food, where is my pop corn can?

LVK *with a innocent look and a weird bulge on his belly* I don't know!

My fists balling, my side along my sides, only for a second before I run forward, passing next to the referee and jumping to Punky in a ground and pound attempt, the assault is welcomed by the crowd with a explosion of roars.
The ref is shocked, he looks around, like he is about to ask help to someone outside the ring, though he finds there the countdowners which are not the best in this kind of help!

RP: I told you! She isn't in conditions for a wrestling match! She cant even hear the bell or not!

Me and Megan start to brawl while the ref smartly decides to call for the bell.
I'm fighting her in her own style, not the smartest move at all, but still its a signal to her and to the other member of her gang,after a while she is getting the upperhand with her hard fists but soon enough the referee stops us, shoving Punky off me, with a scared look in his face.
I get up and so she does, just grinning to the ref while he has his legs trembling

I'm surprised to see Punky with her arms raised and lookin for a lockup in the middle of the ring. It looks like the brawl attempt didnt affect her at all, well, she is a kind of psycho, its impossible to know what she has in that head except purple pig tails
I just nod and carefully move forward, sliding my right hand to the backside of her neck and my left on her right bicep as she does the same.

I was waiting for a knee on my belly or whatever else, confident that it was only one of her tricks but I was wrong and when she bulges her muscles I find myself staggering backward behind her push.

"NNNGGGGGHH" I groan out, hearing a loud laugh from Gemma at ringside.

LVK: Dow is getting an advantage and marches forward,bullying Layne back!

"Molto più facile di quanto previsto" Punky mocks me again in my own language as I feel her body on mine.

One step, then a second, but no more.
I grunt and sink my feet down, my left leg extends back while my right knee is bend.
I stop her march, the crowd starts to cheer me on with more enthusiasm.
Callie coldly looks to the ring, so does Red while Gemma is arguing with someone in the first row.

I try to push my rival back but there is no way to do it.
At the same height and weight, we both use our bodies to annull each other push and we stubbornly stand there, grunting and panting.

But I'm less stubborn than her, and I get an idea.
My feet slides backward,one step,than another, making her and the whole arena think that she is overpowering me, I groan and protest, I lure her in my trap and I release her collar and elbow to grab her right wrist with my left hand and hooking under her elbow with my right arm before driving my hips against her belly to throw her body over my shoulder and slam her down on her ass before releasing the hold.

LVK: wonderful Judo move by Layne!

RP: this is illegal! This is not Judo!

LVK: Judo has a long respectable tradition all over the world!

RP: Still its not wrestling!

LVK: Nevermind,its like talking with a deaf

RP: What?

Megan looks surprised but angry too.

"Awww what's wrong freak?" I place the tips of my fingers in front of my mouth like sayin
'Ops'

it doesn't take long before she gets up and rush at me but only to find me hooking her arm and bend down to flip her over me in a arm drag to send her down again on her ass.
I love the way her pig tails flies around but now its time to stop joking and as soon she gets up I'm on her and I lace my arm around her head in a side head lock, before suddenly shift my weight on the side and bump my hips on her and drop down on my side, bringing her to the mat in a headlock takedown hold!

"do you remember what was Bane's end? He ended fucked up, and you will do the same end!" I hiss down, squeezing the hold.

I grind her pretty face on the side of my breast and ribs,squeezing as much I can and putting all power I can on my bicep,my legs spread.
The ref gets close but not asking anything for now.

Megan hooks her arm under my thigh and lift it up, planting her feet down on the mat and forcing my shoulders flat under my own weight but as soon the ref hits the mat once I kick out, not releasing the hold.

Callista gets on the apron and point at me.

"she is holding her hair! Watch her ref!"

The ref falls too easy on her trap and he starts walking to her,worried that she may climb the ropes.
I get distracted enough to let Punky starts to force ourselves up on our feet, I try to re group the grip but suddenly I feel my top tugged from behind!

"Hey what the f*beep*"

LVK: Rox is yanking on Layne top! The Countdown starts their blatant illegal tricks!

RP: what are you sayin Van Keel? She just helped her, adjusting her top! We dont want to see naked action! We would lose our TV deal!

I can't BELIEVE that bitch took me over with an ipponzei.  That's MY move.  I'M a fucking judoka.  And this pizza-tossing pignoli nut takes ME over her shoulder? 

It's got me so pissed off that I don't even have time to enjoy having my face mooshed into Layne's pillowy tit.  I almost manage to roll her over for a pin from the side headlock but she kicks free.  Fortunately, that takes her off balance enough that I can get my boots under me and force us back to our feet, taking her up and walking her back to the ropes where I can hopefully shoot her off and int-

- OR, Gemma can snatch the back of Emily's top and squeeze her melons into her chest.  I snerk in amusement.  Well, whatever, this is easier than shooting the busty Italian skeeze off the ropes.  I piston my right fist twice into that tight bare belly, just below the navel, and loosen her grip.  As I stand, I twist my hips and swing my right arm up, cracking my inked bicep under the Angel's jaw, snapping her upright with a European uppercut. 

"I got her," I hiss at Gemma, who laughs and drops off the apron just as the ref finally disentangles himself from the philosophical conversation with Calli.  I grab a handful of Layne's hair and yank her forward, twisting into another CRACKING European uppercut, leaving her groaning and sagging against the ropes.  I shove those strong arms back over the top rope, her back arched and her breasts pushed up for me.  My pierced tongue runs over my glossy black lips. "Grazie per l'offerta," I purr in Emily's ear, stepping to the side and bringing my arm back across my chest, whipping my knife-edged hand out to *CRACK* across her lush tits!

"DOW! OFF THE ROPES!" the ref snaps, beginning his bothersome count immediately.

"One second," I purr, caressing Emily's cheek with my left hand as she gasps and crosses her arms across her aching chest. I grab her wrists and throw her arms wide, pressing myself up against her deliciously.

RP: That's what I'm talkin' about.

LvK: Dow turning the tables with the help of those thugs from the Countdown, and now taking CLEAR advantage of Emily Layne!

RP: Yeah. HOT advantage.

LvK: Settle down, Perle.

"I am gonna *BEEP*ing DESTROY you," I purr softly against Emily's silky lips, and then I step to the side and SNAP my arm in a bullwhip again, hitting across that ample duo with another *CRACK*.  The ref hits "FOUR!" as I snatch Emily's wrist off her aching chest and yank it over my shoulder.  I thrust my hips back into her and haul forward, leaning to TOSS her over me with my own Ipponzei, slamming that sexy ass of hers to the mat.

"THAT's how you *BEEP*ing do THAT," I smirk, and slither out between the ropes, perching on the apron. I wrap my taped fists around the top rope and bend low, dropping it like it's hot as the audience boos (and wolfwhistles).  Emily gets to her feet, showing that resilience that I've come to know all too well over the last decade or so of us feuding, but as she gets up and staggers around to find me, I'm already moving. I neatly sling myself upwards, perching on the top rope and crouching there with perfect balance before I SPRING off the steel strand and launch myself through the air.  My flying forearm pistons across Emily's jaw and drops her flat to a roar from the crowd as I land in a stagger, throwing my fist up in a rock hand and basking in the way the crowd hates my athletic prowess.

I can't blame them. I'd be upset if someone as awesome as me made them look bad by comparison, too.

I decide it's time to bust her spine now that I've got her good and dazed.  I haul the leaning tower to her feet and set her up, taking her wrist and adding a smack to that fine ass before I bullwhip my shoulders, readying to sling her into the ropes - only for the stubborn bitch to pull up short, and YANK me back into a short-arm clothesline!  Spittle flies from my lips as I'm taken ass over teakettle to a huge cheer from the crowd!

Yeah, yeah.  Comeuppance.  Fuck off, nerds.

I shake my head to clear the ringing bells, my punkytails dancing on my shoulders, and Emily growls and drags me upright, taking my arm and whipping ME to the ropes instead.  Fuck THAT, I think to myself, twisting to hit the cables with my back and hips, my skirt fluttering.  I splay my arms out wide and snag the rope tight in both fists, my feet kicking up as I slap Newton across the face and conserve my own damn momentum.

"BITCH!" Emily snarls, since she was clearly waiting to do something unpleasant to me when I came off the ropes.  Impatient, she rushes at me, a malevolent force of revenge.  Fortunately, I'm utterly fearless and can meet her head on.

I mean, I CAN, but instead I just duck down and yank the top strand down as I thrust the heel of my Doc Marten into the front of her knee.  She gives a pained cry and staggers - and with the low bridge in front of her, she topples over and out to land with a rough thud on the mats.

... she should be more careful.

There's dangerous people out there.

When Emily tumbles out of the ring and onto the floor, the ref looks first in my direction. After a pause, I lift an arm and yell, "Go Punkers!" like a cheering fan, (albeit an incredibly intelligent and devastatingly beautiful fan who's slightly distracted from the proceedings, perhaps thinking about her dinner that evening.)

Gemma and Red, of course, head straight for her, and as Megan reminds the ref that he's supposed to be paying attention to HER, (Megan's so vain,) the pair of them begin to put the boots to Emily, stomping and kicking at her.

Deciding quantity of kicks rather than kickers is the more important statistic to increase, I climb up on the apron, give a slight tug to the tie of the top corner pad around the turnbuckle and yell out, "Hey, ref! Why are you giving Megan *BEEP*? Look at what Emily's been doing over here?" pointing at the loosened pad.

RP: Why that dirty little cheater.

LvK: ...you're just NOW noticing?

RP: She's clever about it, but she couldn't fool Callista! She spotted that loosened pad from a mile away!

LvK: *sigh*

Meanwhile, back on the fun side of the ring, Red is standing over Emily, holding her legs apart. Gemma races in and drops down into a Roxslide, landing one boot RIGHT on the button.

Red looks in my direction, and I give him a 'wrap it up' sign, as the ref is tiring of this conversation. The masked Countdowner lifts Emily up, prompting Gemma to get up as well and uppercut Emily in her left tit, before rolling the Italian back under the bottom rope. "Oh FINE!" I say, not entirely sure it fit the context of the conversation, but job done anyway, so I jump down off the apron and back onto the floor.

"Hey, Gerry!  C'mere!" I rub at my forehead as I get to my feet, intercepting the ref as he turns away from suspiciously glaring at Calli, and slinging an arm around his shoulders as I rub the heel of my taped hand into my head, guiding him away from the carnage on the outside.  "I think that bitch had a razor in that glove!  Why the *BEEP* didn't you check her?  You know Italians are all *BEEP*ing crazy!"  I lift my hand with a hiss of air through my teeth and let him look at my forehead.

"Is it bad?" I ask as Red and Gemma stomp a proverbial mudhole into Emily Layne on the outside.  "I ... I don't see anything," he says, concerned.  "Shit!  That means she must have used POISON! Get the antidote kit!" The referee looks briefly panicked.  "THE WHAT?!"

LvK: Oh, for the love of God.

RP: That's a SERIOUS, LEGITIMATE CONCERN, van Keel! Italians are FAMOUS for poison. You don't watch "The Borgias"?!  IT'S ALL THERE.

LvK: ... that's fine, Rick.  Tell me all about the gripping Showtime drama.  We'll have a fine chat about it while the COUNTDOWN STOMPS THE LIVING HELL OUT OF EMILY LAYNE.

RP: ... as long as she doesn't interrupt.  So Jeremy Irons plays RODRIGO Borgia, see, and he ...

I risk a glance over my shoulder as Gerry is distracted from his search for the antidote kit by looking at Calli's loosened turnbuckle pad.  Larry van Keel, that huffy old stickler, is trying to wave his attention over to the hard camera side where Red and Gemma are STILL laying into Emily.  I roll my eyes a little, twisting my fingers in the "wrap it up" symbol.  I don't mind a little gang violence but this is starting to verge on being insulting.

It's not like I can't take the bitch myself.

Calli seems to see my gesture but takes her SWEET TIME before she does anything - and from the wail of agony and the sympathetic groan of the crowd, I'm going to assume that Gemma just booted Emily in the goody basket.  Call me a connoisseur of agony.  I narrow my eyes a little at Quinn.  There's never a time the leader of the Countdown isn't fucking up to something.

I move to the ropes to gather up Emily as Red starts to roll her in, impatiently hauling her to her feet.  She's pretty messed up, so I shove her back into the corner and throw her arms over the ropes so she'll stop cradling her aching mound, and then I set my boots and lace into her body and those pillowy punchable breasts with a flurry of taped-fist punches so there's a plausible reason for all the bruises and groaning.  The ref earnestly rushes over to administer another five-count. "I'VE GOT 'TIL FIVE!" I growl at him as I turn away, letting Em slump down in the corner, her arms hanging from the top rope by her elbows and her hair curtaining her face.  Red grins at that.  Calli just smirks.  A little. 

I flicker my dark shadowed eyes across the Countdown - they seem to be back into their posts.  Good enough.  I subtly flip my right hand from my hip twice as if shooing something away, waving them off before I take Em by the wrist and drag her from the corner.

"Time for a ride," I purr as I push her into the ropes on Red's side, bending the steel back with a press of my body into her lush, aching form - and then I hop-step back and THROW my weight into whipping her to the far side, immediately planting my Doc Martens. My hands come up, fingers curling in anticipation. 

I'm gonna scoop this bitch up onto my shoulder, spin her around once to show her off to the crowd and then break her fucking back over my knee. Maybe push her by the chin and the hot pants to see if she wants to give.  Gonna soften her up for the Dollbreaker.

She'll break just like fucking Rowan did.

Yeah.  Just as soon as she comes back off those ropes.

I see the whip coming, I see which way the ref is looking, and I pick my spot. When Emily's back hits the ropes, I reach out under the bottom rope, grabbing hold of one of her ankles, hanging on as her momentum sends her upper body forward while my grip keeps one foot firmly in place. Emily face-plants into the mat, and the first thing I hear is, "YOU!"

RP: How sportsmanlike of Callista to help fix Emily's untied boot like that!

LvK: ...

RP: Ok, that was a bit of a reach.

LvK: Even for you...speaking of reaches though, I think the ref caught that reach by Callista!

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I didn't touch her!" I say, lifting my hands as if that were evidence. "All I did was put my hands up cuz I thought she was gonna kick me!"

It's a long-shot, but the ref's not having any of it. He points to me, then to Gemma, then to Red. "You! You! You! YOU'RE OUTTA HERE!!!"

"WHAT?" I yell, getting up on the apron to argue. "That's ridiculous! First she pulls hair, then she tries to loosen the corner pad, you miss all of that, but you're kicking us out cuz I put my hands up to protect myself?" It's not going to change his mind, but it should give Megan a chance to get some more work in behind his back.

"GO! GET OUT OF HERE!" he shouts to the cheers of the crowd.

I slap the corner pad, shaking the ropes in apparent frustration at the injustice of it all, but as Gemma and Red approach, I hop down, walking back up the aisle with the pair of them. I glance back to the ring, locking eyes with a visibly upset Punk briefly, before turning to Gemma and saying, "Looks like you're off the hook for the bar bill, tonight." Fair's fair, after all.

I slowly recover from the nasty meeting between my face and the mat of the ring.
Stirring up I try to understand what is happening around me.
I feel pain pretty much everywhere, those stomps and kicks worn me down,not to mention that blow to my crotch from Rox while Red was carefully holding my legs wide opened!
Anyone of them will pay!

Lets say that since when Punky started with those nasty knife chops on my breasts, things went not very nicely for me.

I notice that the ref is throwing The Countdowners out of the ring area and Punky is watching in shock to what its happening.
Not only shocked, she is totally frustrated about it and glaring down to her buddies.

A evil smile appears across my face and I lick my glossy lips in anticipation, I feel energies getting back, my breasts heaving inside my tight black top.
I don't care a lot about Punky feelings right now, my target is to take her down, now!

Megan wastes a couple of seconds more to look outside the ring, I  waste one single second to meet Callista eyes and smile at her, makin sure she sees my middle finger up just a second later I sneak behind my American opponent, to her left side, my right arm wraps around her strong shoulders.

"sorry darling" I purr before driving my right leg between hers and suddenly drop on my back, forcing her down with me in a Russian leg sweep, forcing her down on ass and back.

I do a backflip and roll on my feet while she arches on her side, with one hand rubbing the small of her back.

RP: this move should be banned from the wrestling circuit! I know for sure that its not legal in 27 states! Its from behind and plus it has a really not nice name! It implies our longest time enemy in the history!

LVK: I think I saw you perform that a couple of times!

RP: it wasn't me!

Meanwhile the announcers arguing, I move the side of my victim and drop down on my ass with my right leg extended, slamming my thigh against her throat in a leg drop!

The crowd likes it and shows support with some loud roars.
I grab Punkys hair with both hands,forcing her up and roughly shove her to the closer ring post.
The ref is about to warn me about the hair pulling but as soon I glare at him he gulps.
Her back and ass lean over the turnbuckles, her arms over the middle rope as I can tell that my last two moves worn her down some.
My lips curl in a snarl, my nostrils flare, eyes on fire as I have in my eyes what happened in the ppv when I was in the ropes and then in corner, worked by Gemma and Megan together in some brutal moves.
Plus tonight it seems this freaking bitch has a weakness for my breasts...and its not that kind you're thinking about!

Revenge best served cold!
And now its cold enough!

I rush forward,toward the corner where Punky is hanging there and I grab the middle rope driving my shoulder forward into her mid section.
Once, twice, three times!
The ref gasps in surprise again and this time he is counting me.
I send my shoulder once more into her body, not caring about the ref and climbing over the first rope with both feet at Megan right side.
My left foot stays on the rope, bending it down with my weight as I drive my right sole up at Punky throat, spreading wide my legs as my hands grip on the top rope to have more leverage.
My boot is choking out the countdowner and I'm lifting her off the mat,putting as much effort I can in this illegal corner foot choke.

The ref is shocked, most part of the crowd too but they still keep cheering on, in the end I'm simply fighting fire with fire

LVK: Layne is attacking Dow with a not really clean move now!

RP: the ref must call for the bell,now! He is clearly pulling for Layne in this match! That's not professional!


The ref does his job and starts to count me.
As soon he reaches for 4 I jump off the rope and I raise my hands up, stepping backwards while Dow s body slump down in a sitting position, her back leaning on the bottom buckle.

RP: I know guys that are in jail for much less!

The ref looks at me, he is about to warn me to not do it anymore, I give him a look like saying
"I know, I got that, but now shut the f*beep*k up!"

Seeing my tattooed rival down in the corner, I realize its the perfect time to finally show my Heaven Sent to this audience.
I stand in the middle of the ring and lift my right fist up, taunting the crowd before running like crazy toward the corner and turn at the last second to SMASH Megan face with the side of my hip in a hot hips smash that makes the arena roars in excitement!

RP: this is disgusting! That's exactly why Quinn wants to save wrestling!

LVK: did you really use the word "disgusting" for a butt in the face?

Dow face rests on the side as she using her hands to wipe on her face like she is tryin to clean her face from something.
I smile and give a slap to my ass before moving again toward her.
She is stirring, slowly making her way up to her feet as I knee her belly to set her up, her head between my hip and my arm, I squeeze her tight before kicking my feet up and dropping on my ass and nailing a DDT on her.

Her sexy strong body shakes and end on her back, perfectly settled for the pin.
I cover her chest to chest hooking her right leg up for the most classic of the pins.

"ONE...

TWO..."

And she kicks out by lifting her left shoulder up.

Fuck.

FUCK.

What the HELL, Calli?  I had her!  I FUCKING HAD HER.  I'd have been working her off a backbreaker and punishing her spine right now, setting her up for passing out from sheer chiropractic destruction in the Dollbreaker.  But no.  You had to fucking channel Freddie god-damn Blassie and ANKLE TRIP her.

I know I have a few moments here to work over Emily, and I throw a stomp at the back of her head ... but my heart's not really in it.  My eyes are locked on the Countdown, and on Quinn.

She looks awfully fucking happy for someone picking up the bar tab tonight.

God damn it. It's ALWAYS a fucking plot.

I give Layne a little too long to regain her feet, and she snakes me over in a Russian legsweep, hissing through my teeth at the sudden flare of pain in my back as we crash to the mat.  I don't even get time to think of some Russian-Italian joke (something about drunks) before Em gives me a long look at her shapely ass and drops a leg across my neck and commences a quick, efficient attack that drives me into the corner.  There's fire in her eyes.

She impresses me, shoving her boot into my throat and blatantly choking at me.  Even with my head pushed over the ropes and barely balancing on my toes as Em's gorgeous body stretches me out, I grin upside-down.

There's only one thing better than misrule, and that's anarchy.

In misrule, you do what you want and they try in vain to stop you.

In anarchy, EVERYONE does what they want.  Do as thou wilt is the whole of the law.

If what Emily wilt is grinding her boot into my throat?  Fuck it, baby.  That's anarchy.

And now she's beginning to understand.

I chuckle a little, rasping as I slump down to the bottom buckle, resting my head against it. My cheeks are pink, my tight body starting to glow with sweat.    I see the rage in Emily's beautiful face as she races across the ring - she's still playing to the crowd, but she'll learn.

She'll learn.

She rushes in and SLAMS that fine ass into my face and for a moment everything goes into stars, a flare of darkness as her weight crashes into me at high speed.  I'm hauled up and stumble straight into a knee buried into my tight belly, folding me up before she spikes me with a DDT.

She lays across me and I take a moment to relish the pressure of her and the lovely hook of my leg, but I've been DDT'd into fucking concrete floors and kicked out before two. I roll my shoulder before the ref's hand smacks the mat a second time, although he rounds it up to two when he stands and throws up his fingers for the timekeeper.  Refs.  Such drama queens.

There's a brief respite as Emily unhooks.  I grin to myself even with my head ringing and my belly bruised, laying in the glow of the overheads.  I know what she's gonna do.  And she does.

"TWO?" she snarls.

Well, it was really more like one, but I'm gonna let her get her steam up.

She gets right in Gerry's face, and he's still surprised.  Emily's one of the NICE ones, one of the GOOD girls, one of the pretty public faces of FTW.  She's not supposed to argue with referees or curse or choke people for 4-counts.  He looks like someone who's being savaged by a kitten.

That gives me time to roll to one knee, tossing my punkytails back over my tattooed shoulders.  With a little grinning snarl, I take Em's shapely hips and SHOVE her forward into the ref!  "HEY!" he yelps, staggering backwards, no doubt shocked as the beloved Italian superstar suddenly attacks him!  Emily gasps, bringing her hands up in protest - and I purr and ball my right fist, swinging a golf club shot between those shapely thighs to give her a zesty uppercut in the calzone.

The crowd groans in sympathy as Layne clutches herself and crumples to the mat.  "She's out of control, Gerry," I grin as I slink up to my feet, moving to the referee and ostentatiously brushing his shoulders off, straightening his bowtie before he splutters and waves me away.  "Don't worry, sugardick.  I'll get her out of your hair."

LvK: GERRY, COME ON!  YOU'RE BETTER THAN THAT!

RP: I think it's nice of Punky to straighten the official's bowtie AND give Layne a free pelvic exam.

LvK: ... I ...

RP: Right?  I didn't even know she was a licensed physician.

I don't make the mistake of keeping my back turned on Emily, swiftly moving into her.  "C'mere, sweet tits," I hiss softly, yanking her up with a handful of hair - and while she's still bent over and cradling her aching goody basket, I kindly slam my right knee up a few times to hammer those tits she's so proud of flat against her ribs, finishing by dropping to one knee, chambering my right arm and launching a brutal palm thrust under her jaw. The heel of my palm strikes her chin, snapping her upright with her eyes crossed.  She wobbles, nearly falling and I stand up, shaking my hands out with a purr.

"LOOKS LIKE IT'S ABOUT *BEEP*ING TIME!" I roar.  I twist and slam my hips back into Em's tight belly.  I bend both knees and drop my hands, caressing the Angel's lovely legs and hooking both her knees as I straighten up, lifting her up.  I yank her legs forward so they hang on my hips, and my left hand keeps her knee locked as I bring my right hand up and cradle the back of her head, pulling her chin tight against my right shoulder.

"Let's go for a *BEEP*ING RIDE!" I snarl with a grin, wearing Emily Layne like a sexy backpack as I take three running steps to mid-ring and KICK off the mat, bringing both legs up and TWISTING in the air, spinning us gracefully as we both drop, our combined weight CRASHING down and compacting Em's spine, her jaw SNAPPING off my shoulder as we ride gravity to beautiful destruction.

LvK: GREAT CAESAR'S GHOST, PUNKY HITS THE FOREVER TIME BUSTER!

RP: The backpack jawbreaker's like a friggin' Stone Cold Stunner that snaps your neck with your own body weight.  Hits like a damn truck.  Layne is DONE.

LvK: And here's the count!

I hook Em's outside leg and lay my body across her belly, my legs curled in to vine her inside leg, nodding along as the ref makes the count!

ONE!

TWO!

- FUCK, who said she could kick out?!

For a moment, I'm SO DAMN FURIOUS that she kicked out that I almost forget to follow up, lost in a moment of unfocused boundless rage as Emily kicks my grip free and gets her shoulder up.  Then I remember that I want Emily Layne in a state of constant agony for daring to defy me, and that clears my mind nicely.

Taking her shoulder, I roll the still-aching Italian beauty over to her belly and slither across her lower back. I plant my knees on either side of her hips, resting my full weight across her lower spine.  I sinuously bend down, pressing my pierced chest against her strong shoulders with a lascivious smirk for the hard camera as I run my taped hands down her arms, crossing at the elbows to take a reversed grip on her wrists.  I hiss softly as I sit up, pulling her left arm to the right and her right arm to the left, crossing them and then yanking back like I'm setting a hook to trap her own throat in her crossed wrists.

I cinch her in the GOKU RAKU GATAME!

LvK: And Dow looks to sink the mounted Japanese Strangle!  An absolutely VICIOUS hold!

RP: THAT'S the move we were missing during that bit back on First Strike.

LvK: What?

RP: The bit about the American giving the Italian a German with the Brit ... somewhere ... we needed a Japanese something in there!

LvK: Sometimes I find myself morbidly curious about how your brain works, Rick.

RP: It's mostly dark lewd fantasies that I come out of for a few seconds at a time to drop a non-sequitur on you.

I plant my Doc Martens and LEAN back, thrusting my hips forward and YANKING back, my long tattooed biceps going hard and lean, twisting my grip on Layne's wrists as I pour pressure into the hold, my weight crushing at the small of her back as I move to choke her with both arms in the center of the ring.

"God DAMN it Dow, if that's a choke, so help me, I will throw this damn match to a DQ even if the TV producers jump down my damn throat over it," Gerry growls. The man has apparently reached his limit.

"SO *BEEP*ING CHECK IT, YOU BALD OLD *BEEP*, IT'S A GOD-DAMN GOKU RAKU GATAME! YOU HEAR THAT, VAN KEEL?" I snarl before growling softly, leaning closer to Em's ear. "Now, Em - let's see if you can SCREAM," I snarl in her ear, ignoring the referee's hysterics as he tries to check her crossed, locked arms across her throat to see if the Gatame qualifies as a choke.  I LEAN back, my punkytails almost brushing her hips as I arch viciously into the hold, trying to soften up Emily's pretty little neck and weaken her back.

To my frustration, though, Layne DOESN'T scream - she groans, she growls, but she FIGHTS.  She tenses her shoulders, twisting side to side, yanking at her arms to try to free them as I ride her like a bucking bronco.  Snarling, I LEAN back harder, my inked biceps standing out as I yank Layne backwards into a brutal curve. She cries out - but she keeps fighting, twisting under me!

Damn stubborn witch!  Can't you just lay down and let me break you in half?!

I think that my jaw and neck had snapped out of the rest of my body after the brutal impact of the forever time buster!
I lay there, Megan is holding my leg up but this is still not over!
I kick out, lifting my right arm and shoulder up between the cheer of the crowd but I am not in conditions to roll away and my rival takes easily advantage on me by climbing my back and trap me in a nasty gatagame submission hold.

My own biceps are pressing on my throat and my face contorted in pain, but I don't want to give her some satisfactions. She asks me to scream, I will die before scream!
I focus on tryin to escape the hold, my body furiously shakes in any directions, and so my arms.
She leans back in a incredible angle.

RP: I wonder what would happen if these two would meet in my bed, that would be interesting

LVK: ...

My breasts now are pushing against the fabric of my top, and it looks like the top is about to rip in two halves in any moment for the joy of the guys in the first rows who are taking pics and videos to catch the hot moment!
For their disappointment, the top doesn't rip.
I use all my effort and after some seconds I can feel the grip finally  loosening.
Megan realizes that too and releases the hold getting up and arguing with the ref.

I roll on my back, rubbing my neck.
Probably still frustrated cause Callie interference and my kick out of before, the freaking Punky is jawing with, complaining about the earlier pin, yelling in his face as he is rubbing his ears before moving to me to re group her assault.

As soon Punky sinks her hands on my hair and lifts me up to set her next move I swing my right arm forward and up, my forearm smashes right between her legs in a frontal low blow which causes a loud buzz mixed with roars from the crowd!

RP: And another blatant low blow from Layne!

LVK: Another? It was Punky who nailed a low blow on Layne only few moments ago!

RP: That was a pelvis exam! Anyway, this girl is showing the real Italian nature!

LVK: what are you sayin Perle?

RP: we all know that 90 % of the world criminals have Italian origin!

LVK: I'm still surprised they didn't fire you!

I pant meanwhile Punky clutches her crotch with both hands, staggering around the ring.

The ref looks at me with a suspicious look.
I smile and wink at him, adjusting my top to distract him before quickly running to the American freak from behind and wrap my arm around her collar, I force her running forward with me before leaping feet first forward and send her down to meet the canvas face first with a brutal running bulldog!

LVK: And the ring is shaking!

I stay in a sitting position for some seconds, recovering from the gatagame of before,clutching my neck, then I make my way up,curling my legs to the side and lean down to grab Megan leg and lifting it up.

"time to hurt you freak *beep*"

My right leg raises up, then drives down against her thigh in tension.

Once, twice,three times!
Each blow is followed by a gasp from the crowd.

LVK: Layne is showing her brutal side right now! She is tryin to wear Dow leg down with some cruel stomps!

"how's that uh?" I growl between gasps, but I don't wait for any response and I bend my right knee back, my knee pointing forward and suddenly I drop down, aiming my right knee right on Dow quadriceps in a knee drop!

Its such a pretty scene to see Meg holds her leg with both hands!

I lick my lips and get up again, walking around my prey before hauling her up by the hair and force her to stand before slipping behind her and hook my both arms around her, I bulge my muscles as much I can and grunt in effort before lift her toned body in my double arm chicken wings!

LVK: oh my goodness! Emily is ready for her Falling Angel devastating move!

RP: Come on Dow! Kick her between her legs!

LVK: That's not professional!

RP: You ever been professional?

LVK: I hate you!

I put all effort in the hold, lifting Dow body up, as higher I can, my legs muscles are trembling, holding our both weights together, my face showing the big effort as I start to parade my victim for the audience to see.

LVK : what a impressive hold!

Gerry is asking Punky if she wants to submit but she shakes her head and curses at him in some kind of weird dialet.

I hold her in this position one second more before extending my arms up high, my hands suddenly slide down and hook on her thighs while I drop on my ass and force her down on her face and chest in another brutal impact!

The crowd roars, thinking that this can be the end of the Main Event.
I lick my lips and look around before shoving her body on her back and I climb over her, my body sinuosly slides over her, chest on chest, legs on legs,face on face for the pin, like we are about to something else more than a pin as my sore breasts are crushing down on hers!

RP: where is my Galaxy s5???

ONE

TWO

Punky lifts her shoulder up,breaking the sexy and kinda arrogant pin.

I feel like Emily Layne is trying to take me through a CrossFit workout, giving me EXTREME muscle confusion with her relentless assault.  I admit, I lost my cool a little bit, letting out some of my seething frustrations with Layne's stubbornness and with ... whatever the hell happened with my Countdown earlier.

Still, pissed off or not, I should've kept an extra eye on her.  I've been so used to fighting her little fan-kissing rule-loving ass across Europe and the States that I didn't take her recent darker mood into consideration, and I paid for it with a free uppercut to the Easter basket.

Layne's attack after that was furious, but a little undirected. She rang my bell with a bulldog but then went after my right leg, hammering my quad like she was getting ready to drop her kneepads, do a Fargo strut and put on a figure-four.  Instead of that, though, she yanked me up into her fucking Falling Angel, which did my shoulders no favors and pissed me off to no end, being paraded like that for the howling monkeys in the FTW audience, but left my leg be. 

Still, I kind of wished she HAD gone for a leglock after she swung me down into the canvas with my arms yanked behind me back.  Faceplanting from eight feet up is never much fun and I think she drove my nipple barbells into my lungs.  I dizzily run my tongue stud over my teeth, counting the little metallic clicks to make sure they're all there.

She takes the time for a sensual cover that I'd appreciate in other circumstances, and I snarl and shove free of it, breaking the count.

LvK: These two women are showing FURIOUS determination.

RP: AND they're both showing a willingness to fight dirty that I think speaks very well of them!

LvK: Well ... I .. look, Rick, Emily Layne has been put under a great deal of stress by the Countdown, and ...

RP: And that makes it okay for her to hammer Punky in the hot pocket?

LvK: ... I just ... hey, look, Dow is fighting to her feet.

RP: I have you wriggling in the crushing grip of reason, van Keel.

Layne tries to drag me up again - the ref watching closely this time to make sure neither of us goes for a crack to the clam - and I thank her for her interest with a few short, driving jabs to her tight abs.  She's still a bit bruised from the beatdowns she's taken, and loses her grip, and I grab her shoulder and lunge to my feet, slamming her jaw with a right forearm. She staggers back and I regain my boots, favoring my right leg a little, but Emily comes right back at me, driving me back towards a corner with a quick flurry of forearms to the crowd's delight - but I stop her cold, catching her arm and driving a palm thrust between her breasts to break her breathing! 

She gasps, staggered, and I shake my head with a snap of my violet punkytails and grab her by the back of the head, shoving her against the ropes on the timekeeper's side.  She comes off the ropes and hits a slightly stumbling right fist that snaps my jaw to the side.

"YAY!", exclaim the ruminants in the crowd.

I reply with a fist hammered between her eyes.

"BOO!" offers the crowd in all their wisdom.

Emily hits an open-handed shot across my chest that makes a SMACK.

"YAY!" cries the mindless crowd beast.

I stagger back a step - and pivot on the ball of my foot, snapping my Doc back and up and driving my heel deep into Layne's navel with a Zbysko belly kick.

"BOO!" opines the drooling crowd.

That last shot leaves Layne bent and gasping, so I take her shoulders and piston my knee up into her belly a few times, yanking her into me with each shot like I'm mugging her in a Portland alley and trying to make sure she can't scream, and eventually she collapses to her knees and slumps back against the bottom rope.

The referee dares to intercede at this point, trying to push me back as Emily is left clutching her stomach and gasping like she accidentally ordered a hot phaal at a curry joint.

LvK: Layne is showing TREMENDOUS resilience and will - but it's just so damn difficult to go toe-to-toe with a slugger like Punky.

RP: She comes at you like a hurricane made of razor blades.

LvK: ... are you reading that off Countdown stationery?

RP: I get a little baksheesh every time I push one of their new slogans.

LvK: You're a model of professionalism, Rick Perle.

RP: Yeah?  Well, Punky is - *paper rustles* - a dervish of devastation!

Emily is just starting to pull herself up on the middle rope - and my eyes gleam as I suddenly shove the balding ref out of the way and BLAZE forward, boots slamming the canvas.  I drop low, legs folding under me and then unfurling in a brutal snap, launching me like I'm spring-loaded to slam my shoulder into Emily's battered belly and tackling her right out through the ropes, all the way to the thinly-padded concrete where we land with a brutal *THUD*.

RP: HOLY *BEEP* BALLS!

The crowd seems torn on starting a chant and protesting the injustice done to Layne's body, but at least they're making a riot of noise. I like that.  I clear my head and grin, dragging myself to my feet.  Emily is still folded up and kicking her boots softly, but she shows sparks of life as I drag her up by that slutty top, firing a few fists into my tight belly. I grunt and sputter a little, and she claws her way up and drives a cracking right across my black lips, and I spit a little red as I'm knocked back.

First blood.

Oh, she'll pay for that.

Layne comes after me, breathing hard and painfully but with revenge in her eyes, and snatches me by the punkytails to drag me forward, racing me across the mats and intent on slamming my pretty face into the steel ringpost!  Fortunately for all my admirers, I'm WAY too awesome to let that happen.  I snap my right foot up, slamming my boot into the steel post, and my leg accordions up as I snarl and resist Emily's furious attempt to hammer my good looks into the metal - but then I snatch my left fist in my right hand and PISTON my left elbow back, hammering it DEEP into the Italian's battered belly!

She folds up with a DELICIOUS moan of pain, and I snatch her dark hair and yank her head WAY back - and then ...

*CLANG*

LvK: GREAT CAESAR'S GHOST!

RP: OOOOOOOH, that's an Excedrin headache!

Emily is SMASHED into the post and she slumps against it like a blackout drunk hugging a lightpost on the way home - and I lick my split lip in pleasure seeing her pretty forehead split open and scarlet coloring that furious beautiful Raphaelite angelface.

The referee DEMANDS we get back in the ring.  "You got it, candyballs,", I purr.  I drag Emily up and roll her roughly under the bottom rope, and I slither in after her - glance up to ensure that Gerry acknowledges the count out is broken - and then I slither back out to a chorus of boos.

"GET BACK IN HERE, DOW!"

"Shut your *BEEP*ing yap, Gerry. I'll be with ya in a *BEEP*ing second or two.  Or *BEEP*ing FIVE."

I reach under the bottom rope with my shoulder leaning against the bloodied steel ringpost.  My arms stil ache a bit from the Falling Angel, but I snatch Layne's ankles and YANK her forward, planting my boot on the steel and thrusting back for a little extra pep as I SLAM her into the post hard enough to make her sit up groaning and then flop back down, clutching at herself.

LvK: Folks, I probably don't need to mention this, but don't try any of this at home.

RP: Unless you're short on cash and need some emergency birth control.

LvK: ...

"Let me show you how *I* cripple someone's leg, tesoro," I purr.  I yank her firmly forward, drawing another groan and quickly fold her left leg into a four around the post, her ankle braced on her right knee. I take a deep breath and gracefully bring my left leg up, hooking my knee over her boot, gripping her right ankle tight in both hands ... and then I KICK off my aching right leg, hooking the heel over her foured left leg and letting all my weight hang from her foured legs!

Bret Hart innovated the ringpost figure-4 and Gail Kim made it an infamous part of her arsenal - but I NAMED mine.

RP: HOLIDAY IN CAMBODIA!  PUNKY'S GOT HER IN THE HOLIDAY IN CAMBODIA!  Layne's GOTTA give now!

LvK: Tapping out to an illegal submission does NOT lose you the match, Rick. You should remember that from your days of using the infamous Grape Pulper! Punky has five seconds to let that hold go!

I rock my hips back and forth as I swing from her trapped legs, twisting her right ankle and flexing my left leg, snaking it over her ankle to put unbearable pressure across her barred knee.  I can tell from her sweet musical agony that she appreciates my efforts, but I make sure not to lose myself in the fury of the crowd or the delicious operatic pain of the Angel, listening instead to Gerry's furious and all-too-quick count.  Just as he draws breath for "FIVE!" I snake my hooked legs free and drop her foot, slithering down to the concrete and back-rolling over my shoulders neatly, coming up on my knees and bringing my hands up innocently.

A long moment is taken to bask in the sweet rage of the crowd, rolling over me like a wave of fury.  I crane my head back, my eyes shut in bliss, listening to the insults and mindless roars woven in with the sonorous boos and laid over with Emily's soft groans of pain.

I throw my punkytails back over the shoulders and look up and back at the hard camera with an enchantingly mischievous grin that draws a fresh rain of hatred, and I  smirk as I snake my way up from my knees.  I slither under the ropes, breaking the count out the ref hurriedly resumes, and take Em's ankle, dragging her out of the ring as she clutches at her aching knee.

"Mind if I borrow this?" I grin at the fuming official.

LvK: You might want to send the kids to bed, folks.  This might get out of hand.

My hand checks on my face after the unforgiving fist that Megan threw to my head.
I find some blood there, but I have no time to recover as she rolls me in the ring and snaps me in a tremendous figure four against the ring post!

I scream like a dog,in huge pain,my hands squeezing my hair and raking down on the mat,tryin to eat as much pain I can.

God!
My leg is on fire!
I feel my right knee about to snap in any moment!
The crowd tries to distract my rival but without success.

The ref finally reaches the five count and Punky releases my legs.
They dangle out of the ring apron before I slide backward

"No no no no!" the ref shakes his head as Punky forces me outside the ring with her by my ankle, I wonder what he is thinking in this moment.
Probably he is wondering why he is not home watching baseball with his family!

As soon I'm standing on the concrete I launch my right hand forward to her dark eyes and nail them in a vicious eye rake which catches her surprised!

The question is, why shall I follow the rules when she keeps using dirty tricks every *beep*ing second?

The crowd gasps out

RP: This Italian really pissed me off now! Someone must stop her!

LVK: Looks like Emily decided to fight The Countdown on their terms, and the audience seems to like it!

ONE the ref started the count.

With Punky staggering around and rubbing her eyes, I move toward her, reaching her side, my right knee hurts and everyone can notice that as I stalk her but I ignore the pain, wanting to take advantage on the quick moment she has her guard off and I bend on my knees to wrap my right arm around her legs and shift up, flipping her legs behind me and hold her body over my right shoulder by her stomach as we both face in the same direction.
I struggle to stay on my feet, clenching teeth to eat the pain on my right leg and rushing forward, letting her body drop forward and her face brutally smash over the steel barricade in front of us which separate the ring area from the first rows of the crowd!

The crowd gasps in shock once again as this match is getting very cruel!
This b*beep* must have a iron skull!
The impact is hard and loud, a metallic noise echoes in the arena.
I hope I busted her opened!

LVK: Holy s*beep*t! Emily just nailed Punky with a terrible snake eyes over the railing!

The ref looks outside the ring, it looks like he is seeing ghosts!
He paused, shocked by the snake eyes but now re group the slow count.

TWO

I crumble down on my side, both hands are now holding my right leg, panting but little light of joy are forming at the view of my unfortunate rival holding her skull with both hands as her boots are kicking the concrete floor.


RP: how can you like that kind of woman? She is mean, and she doesn't smell good as Punky!
Plus she is Italian!

I make my way up and also Megan does, slower than me but still she has the energies to get up.
I move to her, one hand goes to her purple hair,the other on her shirt and I tug on her to throw her body right against the announcers table where she ends laying over it.

Papers, pencils and stuffs are flying from the table.

THREE


LVK: Oh no! The picture of my wife! The holy picture of Pope Francis!

RP: Oh NO! My newest Sudoku! The holy picture of Jenna Jameson!

Punky rolls and she is with her back laying on the table, I move to her while the ref keep counting us.

FOUR

I climb up the table,glaring at Perle and close my fist in a tight ball and drive it down to Dow face.
But a brawl is something that she will never back up!
Her fist aims for my face and we start to throw fists into each other faces and chests while we roll across the whole table!

FIVE

LVK: Those girls are officially some of the most crazy I ever met!
Perle, we will need a new table!

RP: *on his knees looking on the floor for something*

LVK: Perle! What are you doing?

RP: She made me an autograph over that holy picture! I need to find it!

SIX

I end on top of Punky again and I slam her nape down on the hard wooden table but she suddenly tug on my hip and I fall off of her and off the table too, not before swinging my right foot at her hip and she falls too!

RP *with a piece of paper in his hands and kissing it* there you are!

LVK: is this going to end with a double knock out?

RP: that means that Quinn can be crowned tonight!

SEVEN

EIGHT


I shake my head as I get on all fours, rubbing my jaw as one of Punky fist hit me straight there.
I crawl to the ring and roll under the bottom rope as the ref reaches for Nine and so does Megan on another side of the ring.

Em and I slide in on either side of the ringpost, leaving the ref with his fists bunched in the air, ready to throw the Ten Fingers of Finality. I'm sure he'd like that.  Then he could ring the bell and escape and get home in time for NCIS with no more blood getting splattered on him.

But we beat the count.

I come up to my boots with my lip split and a high-riding bruise on my cheekbone.  Em's forehead is split and her jaw is hammered.  We both look like the leftovers from a Hong Kong streetfight.

And as far as I'm fucking concerned, we're just getting started.

There's a long second where we just stare at each other before we both charge at an unheard signal.  I launch the first punch, a high left cross that snaps her jaw to the side, but she whips right back, driving her knuckles into my battered abs.  The crowd might be doing their BOO/YAY bullshit again, but I'm not listening now.  I'm not thinking of whatever plans Calli is weaving or how my merch is doing or what Rowan Chance is up to.

I'm just thinking of the next punch.

I drive my right fist into her side and she hammers me across the cheek. I swing my arm across my chest and catch her with a nasty uraken across the lips that wobbles her knees.  She comes back with a heavy right forearm! I shake that off but she launches another, only for me to catch her right arm with my left and yank it back in a snaking joint lock, opening her up.  I piston my right fist into her battered, bruised belly three times, folding her up beautifully and leaving her gasping and groaning.

I back up a few steps, measuring her off and getting ready to rush in and hammer a Yakuza kick across that pretty Italian jaw - but as I come speeding in Layne snakes her arm between my thighs and another over my shoulder, and there's a loud noise that whites everything out for a second!

LvK: HOLY COW! Layne catches Punky coming in with a BEAUTIFUL snap powerslam!  She's got both legs hooked!

RP: DON'T BE A FOOL, LAYNE!  THEY'LL BREAK YOUR SKULL IF YOU WIN!

LvK: Oh, LORD that was close.  Dow somehow managed to kick free of the double cradle!

I see the lights fading back in and squint an eye open at them. God damn it, I think that bitch Orton'd me over when I came running in. My head's ringing as she appears above me, mouthing curses in beautifully musical Italian.  She drags me up by the punkytails - bitches CANNOT keep their hands off my punkytails and takes me by the wrist, slinging me across the ring.  My boots pound the canvas and I manage to twist to take the impact on my back.

At cons sometimes wiseasses will get the nerve up to ask me some fourth-wall question about wrestling, like "How is it you always turn around to hit the ropes or the turnbuckles with your back, hyuk hyuk."  You ever crashed into steel buckles tits-first?  It's NOT SOMETHING YOU DO TWICE if you can help it.

I sag back against the buckles and let my arms hang on the rope for a second.  Deep breaths.  That's what called for here.  In through the nose, out through the mouth.  Breaths to center myself.  Pranayana breaths, taking me back to the Cascade forests.

Even with my eyes closed, I can hear Layne's charging feet above the roar of the crowd.  I push off the ropes at just the right beat and I grin, blood on my chin as my eyes open and meet hers with an electric snap.  I duck under her right arm and slam my right fist into her shoulder.  My taped hand slides down to snatch her left wrist, shoving it down between her thighs as I lean down and reach behind her, catching it with my left hand.  With her right arm braced behind my neck and her left hand caught between her legs, folding her up like origami, I bend my knees low and ROAR as I straighten up.  The momentum carries the heavier girl overhead and SLAMS her head and neck into the turnbuckles with a crash that shakes the ring!

LvK: GREAT CAESAR'S GHOST!

RP: That's the Master Exploder.  That's it.  That's game.  Turn out the lights, the party's friggin' over.

LvK: Dow ties Layne up in a MURDEROUS overhead suplex right into those steel buckles, and now drags her off the ropes for the pin!


I haul Emily's deliciously limp, crumpled body over the canvas like a sack of cavatappi.  I hook her leg and slither across her, twining my legs around her far leg and pressing my forearm across her throat.

"ONE!" booms the ref.

"Smarten the *BEEP* up and stay the *BEEP* down," I snarl at her.

"TWO!" and the crowd is counting along, hatred of me notwithstanding.  Layne is a fucking RAGDOLL. For some reason, though, she doesn't listen to my excellent advice and convulses like a landed marlin.

"TH- TWO!  THAT'S TWO!"

RP: HOW THE HELL DID SHE DO THAT?!

LvK: Emily Layne showing some AMAZING resilience, and even this audience - who have NO love for Megan Dow or the Countdown - seem absolutely SHOCKED!

"That was such a DICK MOVE," I hiss down at Layne as I roll over and onto one knee.  I climb to my boots and whirl on the cowering referee.

"GERRY, YOU PIECE OF *BEEP*ing rotten *BEEP*, WHERE THE *BEEP*ing *BEEP* DID YOU LEARN TO *BEEP*ING COUNT?!"

Blow after blow, I realize that I can fight this weirdo freak in her own style, we brawled in the ring, outside the ring,over the table, God knows what would have happened if this match would have been stipulated as falls count everywhere!

Probably we would find each other brawling through the fountain outside the arena or in the mall store of the next street!

I'm ready to nail her with a devastating clothesline into the turnbuckle when she jumps off and nail one of her infamous suplexes.

The impact against the turnbuckle is shockingly stunning, it daze me badly and her voice seems to be far away from me when she yells down at me to stay down.

Bad advice!

I'm not sure I kicked out the pin, until I hear the loud and shocking gasp from the crowd which happens when Gerry shows the two fingers in the air.

RP: I want to see the replay! The count was three! I heard the third slap!

LVK: Two count Perle! The match is still on!

I roll on my side holding my head with both hands before slowly makin my way on hands and knees, gasping and rubbing my head and neck, tryin to wipe some pain off me.

Punky is incensed, she is really furious with the ref, he threaten to disqualify her but she doesn't care a lot.
She keeps yelling at Gerry face!

Though she makes a big mistake, she is giving me her back.
Probably that wasn't such cc big mistake with the old Emily, now its such a huge mistake with the new Emily!

I make my way up on my feet, staggering toward the purple haired woman and explode the best kick I can toward the back of her legs, makin her fall down on her knees!
I wipe some hair off my sweaty and bloody forehead and I wrap my right arm around her neck and force her body to bend backwards while I plant my left knee down on the mat, right knee planted on the middle of her back as I trap her in my dragon sleeper!

LVK: Oh My God! The Pearly Gates! Layne is trapping Dow in her lethal submission hold!

RP: And another attack from behind! Italians...

LVK: Will Dow give it up?

The crowd is all on their feet.
I apply as much pressure I can, my left arm hooking on her inked right bicep, not giving her a chance to use it!
The ref is checking the hold, asking Dow and motioning with his hands

"What do you say Megan? Talk to me!"

"F*beep* off! You and your.."

I add pressure to the hold, bending her upperbody back in a terrible angle,
This time, Megan breasts are in display,pushing against the fabric of her cut shirt.

I put as much pressure I can, I never thought that I could make her submit, but I want to knock her out and send her to dreamland!

Punky lifts up her free right arm, moving her fingers, showing she is still awake.

I don't have mercy, and I start to grind my arm down, on her mouth and nose, adding more brutality to the already rough hold.

Megan arm starts to go limp, until it touches the ground.
The countdowners are all ready to join the ring and make a visit.

LVK: it looks like Punky is about to sleep!

RP : you talk too much Van Keel! Its all about tactic!

Gerry grabs on Dow wrist, he lifts it up before releasing grip.
Megan arm falls limp.
Then he does again, the arm falls limp again.

Everyone is on their feet, they are all waiting for the third time.

But Megan arm stays up!

Another gasp of shock coming from the full arena!

LVK: Punky arm is still alive!

I look at the arm and curl my lips in a snarl, frustrated, I am about to add some extra effort, but my eyes are reached by some nasty scratching that makes me yelp and release the hold!

"F*beep*" I rub my eyes, my face is a mask of blood.
Does she want more? She asked for Made In Heaven!
I pull her up by her pig tails again, and harden my now tired muscles to lift her up over my shoulders to set up my psycho driver,surrounded by excited roars coming from the audience.

Fucking hell, I'm still dizzy as fucking Ash Wednesday in New Orleans.

God-damn Layne had my neck wrapped up in a steel cable.  I swear to Eris, I was looking down a long fucking tunnel and seeing Misawa and Bruiser Brody beckoning me into the fucking light.  Fortunately, I've got the survival instincts of a god-damn sewer rat, and I manage to claw her eye halfway out of her head.

LvK: I say this with the highest possible sense of respect - Megan Dow is essentially a feral animal.

RP: She throws some pretty decent suplexes for a feral animal.

LvK: And I think she might be rabid.

Layne manages to overcome her sudden attack of pirate vision to drag me up off the mat.  I'm mostly a sack of cement still, sluggish as fuck after the dragon sleeper, but I'm not so out of it that I don't realize what's about to happen when the big Italian broad slings me over her shoulders.  The crowd is on their feet in anticipation of seeing me get driven like a fucking nail into the mat.

Unfortunately for those bloodthirsty fuckwits, nothing clears my head quite like my contrarian nature.

I snake my arms back and lace them around Emily's jaw, digging my fingers into the soft nerves in her chin and yanking her head back. The pain loosens her grip on my hips and I swing my legs back, dizzy but lithe as a fucking Russian gymnast, and I shove my skull-pattern knee socks into the center of Emily's back as I drop behind her, locking my fingers under her jaw.  My weight drags her into a lovely backbend before she topples over, and we drop to the mat, taking the impact on my shoulders as I drive my knees into her spine.

RP: HOT DAMN!

LvK: Dow rips a page from her partner Gemma's playbook and drops Layne with a TEXTBOOK Backstabber!

RP: Ya know, I'd complain about you not calling that move a lungblower, but Backstabber is a really cool name.

LvK: Somehow, Rick, I don't think Emily Layne appreciates it fully!

Layne lets out a sweet cry of pain as she rebounds off my folded legs, snapping up and toppling to the mat.  I roll over and push a hand to her hip and another to her shoulder, rolling her onto her side as I force myself upright and then drop down, snapping my right knee into the small of her back to agonize her and keep her floored a little more.

I sag back as she writhes like a landed fish, taking deep breaths.  I can taste blood and sweat, and that special hot scent of bruised flesh.  I snap my punkytails back, glaring out around the howling crowd, and grin a little.  I fucking love this.

I lace my hands into that dark hair and yank Em up good and hard, giving her another friendly knee in the center of the back to keep her agonized. I hook her right arm behind my neck and cinch her head down tight, getting a big handful of her little black shorts in my right hand and showing off her assets before I snarl and HAUL her upright, holding her up in the air in a straight vertical lift before I take a step forward and drop down heavily to one knee, TWISTING Emily forward as I bring her down in front of me to drop her into a fucking vertical suplex backbreaker, breaking her in half over my tattooed thigh!

"Save your screams up, sweet-tits," I pant, licking blood from my lips as I drag the aching girl up to her feet.  "You're gonna need 'em."

I twist Emily to face me and she defiantly cracks a forearm across my jaw, popping the crowd, but as she staggers after me to follow up she clutches her back, hissing in pain and almost sinking to a knee, and I'm right there to meet her, burying a knee into her belly. She doubles up and I bend over and wrap my inked arms around her waist. I take a deep breath, punkytails hanging forward, and bend my knees low, my biceps straining and my aching body trying to organize protests as I haul Layne up and HANG her back over my right shoulder with my fists locked over her battered belly!

"RRRRAHHHHH!"

LvK: THE DOLLBREAKER!  PUNKY LOCKS IN THE DOLLBREAKER!

RP: That's GOTTA be it!

I stagger under her weight as Emily restrains her screams, clutching at her own head in pain and wailing out as the agony overloads her worn-down resistance.  I snap my arms down, putting more breaking pressure across her aching back. I can feel her spine starting to give, hanging her even deeper. Her head hangs past my chest, her legs dangling down my back.

"I'm gonna fuckin' DEMOLISH you," I snarl, panting.  My legs tremble a moment with the effort of keeping up her weight after the grueling brawl -

- and she's still fighting. She twists, kicking her feet, crying out in pain but still fighting like a trapped animal.  I snarl, struggling to keep her up. I know if I can just keep her locked in that I can make her give - no one can resist gravity trying to break your fucking spine in half for long - but my grip wasn't perfect, she's still fighting like a caged animal, and while I just played a hellish xylophone solo on her back I didn't soften it up enough to snap.

Eventually she slides down my back, escaping the hold to an absolute ROAR from the crowd. They are on their god-damn feet, the filthy unwashed masses, howling incoherently as the two of us come within seconds of breaking each other, defeating each other.

Em staggers, clutching at her back, and stumbles around to face me.

And I take her fucking head off.

*CRACK*

LvK: SWEET SAINT FRANCIS!

RP: Punky just friggin' DECAPITATED Layne with a superkick!

LvK: Shades of the absolute knockout blow the Priestess of Chaos landed at First Strike!  Punky falls across Layne and rolls into the pin, and folks, that MIGHT be it.

RP: Gotta be. Layne's a friggin' VEGETABLE after that shot!

"ONE!"

I lie on my back across Em's pillowy chest, top of my head on the mat and my toes on point in my Doc Martens, my arms looped behind her knee to hook her inside leg.

"TWO!"

That's GOTTA be it. I caught her so clean with that superkick that she's lucky she has any teeth left.

"TH-NO!  TWO COUNT!"

The old bastard miss a beat, throwing up two fingers as Layne twists under me and throws her shoulder up, shooting her fist in the air past my hip.  I can hear the air rush over the crowd in a indrawn gasp of disbelief.  They bought into that damn pinfall as much as I did.  I sit up off Em, sprawled on the mat, my elbows propped on my bent knees, thumping my taped bloodied fists into my purple head.

I had her.

I fucking HAD her.

 
RP: how could that happen? She was out cold!

LVK: Layne is showing a unbelievable will and resilience! She has a objective, and she wants to bring it home!

RP: But she was out! We need to check her! A blood alcohol test! An antidoping test! A colonscopy! Whatever!

LVK: A colonscopy?

RP: its the first word that got in my mind!

LVK: The human body is such a weird machine at time!  

I am still down on my back, shoulders down and legs opened, a cut on my lower lip caused by the last superkick adds even more blood on my already busted open face.
Punky is furious, well furious isn't the word that matching her feelings right now, she is MORE than furious.
I feel her fingers twisting my hair as she roughly tugs me up and sneaks behind me.
 
"You're f*beep*ed Layne!"  
 
RP: Layne is f*beep*ed!

LVK: Perle! The TV deal!

RP: I was just quoting!  


She lifts my right arm and places it around her neck, over her shoulders, her arm hooks my right leg up as she is setting her Mindfuck!
 
LVK: JESUS CHRIST! I think we are ready to see the MINDFUCK!

RP: That's right Van Keel! Look at this! Bow to the style! Bow to the technical! This is real wrestling! This is The Countdown! This is...

LVK: Layne escapes the hold with some nasty elbows hammered at Punky exposed belly!

RP: what the *beep*?  

While Perle is celebrating my rival finisher attempt, I am able to shake my right arm free and drive my elbow back once, twice, three times, forcing Meg to release my leg and stumble back holding her toned and now sore navel!

She might hurt my body, but I bet that now she is suffering too!

I shake my head, and now moving thanks to inertia and adrenaline building inside me.
My right hand catches Punky wrist before I shift on my feet and sling her body to the opposite ropes!

My mind says to take a couple of breathe, recovering strength and freshness, for a short second,but still it can be a second!

F*beep* my mind!

I launch myself behind Megan body and run in the same direction.
When her tattooed body hits the ropes with her rear side I jump off the mat and spread my right arm wide opened for a devastating running clothesline!
 
LVK :HOLY *BEEP*  

Megan s body flip back over the top rope, sagging on it for a quick instant before awkwardky falls directly against the concrete floor of the ring area followed by a loud gasp from the audience!

The impact between my arm and her upperchest makes me hardly stagger back, I almost fall down on my ass but I regain balance, I end with one knee on the mat, panting and gasping.
I pass my right forearm across my forehead, wiping some blood off of my face, I look down at my wrist and lick some of my own blood.

My eyes close for a moment while the ref starts to count my rival out.
I completely ignore him and roll under the bottom rope and walk straight to my prey who is stirring up on her hands and knees.

Everyone is waiting for this scene: me grabbing her by her head or hair and roll her body inside the ring to cut my finisher and go for the One-Two-Three pin which will bring the arena to ecstasy.

But not, I have other plans in mind!
This bitch wants war, this bitch wants more and more..and she will get more!


"YOU"  BAMMM

 
"STAY"  BAMMM

 
"THE"  BAMMM

 
"F*beep*"  BAMMM

 
"DOWN"  BAMMM

I punctuate each of my word with brutal stomps, one for each word I spell!
Five stomps landing on Punky strong toned body.
The first flatten her down, the others hitting her back, ribs and neck in some really brutal action.

The crowd is shocked, they never expected something like this!
They reacted with a loud roar to the first stomp,but the noise got not that loud to the other ones

RP: I think I'm starting to like this Layne girl, still she is playing with fire, and she will get burn herself sooner or later!

LVK: she is showing a side we never saw before for sure! I'm now thinking on what happened at First Strike when she left Rowan alone! Id like to investigate on that!

RP:Good luck Sherlock!


Punky s body prettily contort, tryin to move away from my stomps but I grab her by the hair and skirt and roughly throw her toward the steel stairs that bring to the apron ring.
Meg is too dazed to avoid the impact and her shoulder clangs against the metal steps, the steel build clashes and strides against the concrete behind the impact with Megan shoulder and another gasp coming from the guys in the audience.

The ref is shocked too!
He started to count but got slow, surprised by my brutal attitude of the moment.

I lean down and get hold of Punky purple hair and skirt, to roll her now weakened body under the bottom rope and take some good breathe before rolling between the ropes too,breaking Gerry count and get on my feet.
Punky body is sprawled down, her legs opened and I step to her, bending down to lift her up.

Suddenly, I feel her arm hooking on my right leg, her other arm laced around my head as she uses the momentum to roll me down,with my shoulders flat on the mat,her arm hooking my right leg, her leg hooking my left leg in a small package pin attempt.

RP: and there goes the pin! This can be the end!

LVK: but Emily Layne reverses before the ref starts the count!

RP: Oh no!

The ref takes a second more before dropping on his knees and I wriggle, my arm hooks Megan leg and I roll her with her shoulders flat, reversing the small package pin!

ONE

TWO

T...TWO!

AWWWWWWWWWWW

The crowd gasps in disbelief as the ref shows only two fingers up, this one was really close!
 
LVK: This is a epic match Perle! The outcome is still opened to any option! Both women are using extra effort to kick out and stay in the match!

RP: I have a date with a cute blonde for a morning running tomorrow! Lets hope it will end soon! What time is it now?

LVK: *looks down at his wrist* you may need to postpone Perle!

RP: S*beep*  

Hot fucking damn, that was close.

I only managed to buck out of that because Em had an imperfect lock after rolling the small package over, and because I've spent a lot of my career kicking out of desperate roll-ups.  You get a reputation for crippling people in the ring and you'd be amazed how much people try to get out of the ring as quickly and painlessly as possible.

I lay under the lights and with a hiss through my teeth I roll over a few times to get myself to the apron, where I can dangle my aching shoulder and open and close my taped fist a few times, enjoying the relative cool of the canvas over here. 

Layne dug herself up a mean streak somewhere.  That was one of the most vigorous stompings I've taken.  My ribs certainly don't appreciate her newfound sense of rage, but I do.

I love it when people give in to chaos.

I play dead on the apron - and it's not much of a stretch - laying on my back with my arm dangling and my leg drawn up, my punkytails sprawled out, taking slow deep breaths and tasting blood and sweat.

LvK: Folks, I'm not sure how much longer we're going to be able to keep this broadcast going, but these two young women have given their absolute all here tonight, beyond a shadow of a doubt.

RP: Punky says she don't care about the gold, but I gotta say that if she's doin' all THIS just for the hell of it, then that vixen's gotta lotta moxie.

LvK: There's definitely a lot of pride on the line, Rick, but it goes deeper than the first FTW championship.  Emily Layne is fighting out of the shadow she's been under since the Countdown first arrived, and Meg Dow now has to prove she can stand without the Countdown at her back.

Layne eventually regains her feet. I can hear her anger in every breath, snarling, looking for me.  She comes over and reaches over the ropes, getting another handful of purple hair, making me hiss in pain as she drags me upright.

"All right, *BEEP*, I'm gonna *BEEP* you u-UUGGH!"  While I was very interested in what she had to say, I have to cut her off, grabbing her shoulders above the top rope as I come to my boots and driving my knee in deep below her navel, folding her up.  Referee Gerry Valiant tries for a look at what we're doing but has to settle for just applying a ring-out count.

"No, miele, I insist ..." I purr, twisting my body against her, my right arm coming up to wrap around Emily's jaw, lacing my fingers in her dark hair as I pull her head tight against my right shoulder. Facing the audience now as I stand on the apron with Em's head locked against my shoulder, her bloody face held prettily for the camera, I blow a dark teasing kiss. "... *BEEP* you."

I kick both legs out, my left hand snaking over to clutch her head along with my right, dragging her half over the ropes and CRUSHING her jaw against my shoulder as her neck SNAPS against the tensed steel cable!  I land on the apron as the audience GASPS, Layne snapping against the rope and FLYING back to land with a graceless thud, her legs splayed out and her arm sprawled, her head lolling from the brutal Hotshot Stunner!

I purr pleasurably, slithering around to slide between the middle and bottom ropes, crawling on all fours into the ring and looking at the beautiful tough furious girl who is, for a crucial moment, helpless.

I sinuously come up to my boots, my dark eyes locked on her.

Now to fucking finish this.

The crackle, hum and sizzle of a mic coming to life.

A voice over the loud speaker.

"Little Megan," the voice says on the mic. Sweet, darling, precious Megan."

Punky looks up, her eyes flashing recognition under sweaty purple punky tails.

"If you're looking for me," the voice says, Sweet, darling, precious Megan... I'm here. In Section Seven."

She looks up... And a masked woman stands there, hair over her eyes. Her body covered by a tight, black body suit.

"I'm ready for you... Are you ready for me?"

 lay down, arms and legs wide opened, eagle spread after the huge stunner into the top rope.

I think that they couldn't find a better name for that move!
It almost decapitated my head off!
The crowd is totally focused on the action, holding their breathe to see what can happen.
They now think I can kick out any moves, I kicked out that killer superkick and that brutal exploder suplex into the turnbuckle.
Though, I won't survive a second doll breaker and a mindfuck would know me out cold giving me no way to kick it out!

Megan holds me by the hair,about to yank me up when suddenly the creepy voice fills the arena.
Everything gets silent there, no one is talkin anymore, it seems that no one is breathing anymore, no buzz,no voices,no noises,nothing of nothing.

LVK: It looks like we have visit between the crowd!

RP: its..its..her?

My hair got released and Megan is freakening around the ring, lookin for the Seven Section of the audience.

When I get up Punky is giving my back, I may sound redundant but I already said that.
Don't give the back to the new Emily!

I stagger forward, Punky eyes are still lookin for Rowan when I bend on my knees down, one arm between Megan legs, hooking on her left one and straighten up to lift her over my shoulders in a backbreaker rack, setting up for my Made in Heaven.

LVK: Layne took advantage on the shocking moment we just had in the arena and lifts Punky up across her shoulders ready for Made In Heaven!

RP: OH NO!

LVK: OH YEAH!

But in these conditions its not easy to set up my finisher, my legs are hardly keeping me up and Megan starts to wriggle, her leg gets free and her arm push on my face, before rolling off of me, not giving me chance to perform the big impact move!

Punky eyes are lookin in the audience, she lands neat on her feet, behind me on my left side, her arm locks mine over her shoulders while her other hand hooks my left leg and lifts it up.

RP: And now its Punky setting her Mindf*beep*k! Layne is done!

LVK: OH NO!

RP: OH YEAH!

But also Meg is exhausted after this neverending match.
When she bulges her muscles and put effort to lift me up, she doesn't realize that my arm is shaking free and I take advantage on the momentum, my hand gripping on her shoulder and I push hard to give me some extra leverage to backflip over her head and jump behind her, escaping from the unforgiving impact move!

The ref is shocked, he doesn't realize what is happening,and so is the crowd, they emit loud roars in reaction to anything that happen in the ring!

I wrap my arms around Punky waist and suddenly plant my feet down on the mat before yank, lifting her body and rolling it back with me, planting her shoulders down,with her legs folded over her upperbody and my legs over her legs!

LVK: Look at this Perle!

To add more leverage I backbend in a bridge, planting my hands on the mat and pinning her down in a prawn roll ( the delfin special)
I can feel Punky tryin to wriggle under me but the pin is solid.

RP: where did she learn this???

ONE

TWO

THREE!!!

The crowd explodes in a tremendous and deafening roar!

LVK : ITS THREE! ITS OVER! ITS OVER! LAYNE GOT THE VICTORY OVER PUNKY! For the first time in the FTW, a countdowners suffers a defeat!

RP: Suffer...take a look at Layne face Van Keel and tell me who's suffering!

I roll to the side, the bell rings three times, the ref is still tryin to realize what happened in the last few moments of the match.

CG : And here is your winner, by pin fall, Emilyyyyyy Layneeeeeeeee!

I get on my knees, sitting on my heels as I raise one arm up after this incredible win in this incredible match!
But I feel that this isn't over, The Countdown won't be happy.
I know they are coming down, I need to get ready.
I start to get up and close my fists in tight balls in anticipation, tryin to re group.
The whole arena still roaring and cheering loudly.

He counted three.

Undeniably three.

The sheep are on their feet, bleating in joy.

It was a Delfin Special, and a good one.  I haven't been in one since I wrestled the actual Super Delfin in Toryumon Mexico back in '07. I have no idea where she picked that little treat up - it's not on her tapes, and backbends and roll-ups aren't her usual motif.  Calli's gonna have questions about that one.

But I don't.

I just have one fucking question.

WHERE THE FUCK IS ROWAN CHANCE?

LvK: Folks, this is one for the books - Emily Layne seized the moment at the end of a brutal back-and-forth brawl and escaped coming dangerous close to being caught in Punky's ... leg hook backdrop driver.

RP: The Mind*BEEP*.

LvK: Thank you, Rick.

RP: No *BEEP*ing problem.

LvK: ... Layne escaped and then caught Dow with a brilliant rolling reverse prawn hold for the pin.

RP: Yeah, but I dunno. What was that spookshow up in the cheap seats?

LvK: I think you know as well as I do, Rick.  And it's pretty clear Megan Dow knows, too.

RP: I'll tell you what I know - Emily Layne's a bloody mess and she's got nothin' left in the tank.  She might have her fists up, but she's got trouble comin'.

I hear the keytar strains play, and the crowd's elation immediately turns to outrage and frustration.  They've seen a hero elevated over the Countdown for the first time and now they're going to see her get beaten down like all the rest.

Calli, Red and Gemma come down the aisle, moving at a confident pace.  The referee, his authority exhausted, wisely gets out of town.  Emily's muttering threats to herself, standing her ground, fearless.

I'm just sitting on the mat, staring out into the faceless crowd.

The Countdown forms up at the head of the aisle -

- and I vault over the top rope, landing heavily on my Docs, pelting right past my surprised buddies and then jumping to the top of the steel railing and over, into the crowd.  There are screams and yells and excitement as I shove every motherfucker out of my way, scattering popcorn and spilling overpriced beers, clambering up the stairs in heavy pounding steps, blood and sweat still shining on me, smelling like bruises and canvas and combat, a thing of brute reality shoving my way into everyone's little worlds.

Rowan fucking Chance.

You don't know what you just started, itsy-bitsy spider.

No fucking idea.

RP: *Vin Scully voice* And sheeeeee iiiiiiis OUTTA HERE!

LvK: Punky just ... VAULTING into the audience and now tearing through the crowd in pursuit of that masked woman.

RP: Rowan Chance.

LvK: I'm not sure she goes by that name anymore, Rick. But while the Countdown looks after their erstwhile team-mate, Emily Layne is letting discretion be the better part of valor, and SHE is disappearing into the crowd on the other side of the ring!

RP: Looks like Callista showed up too late to the party for once.  Nobody home but her.  Not even a ref for her to take out!

LvK: ... quieter, Rick.  Don't draw her attention.

*minutes earlier, in the Countdown locker room*

Gemma and Red are cheering as Emily's jaw crashes into Megan's shoulder. I'm watching, but analytically, keeping an eye on reaction times and the effects of the onset of fatigue as the match progresses. I'd like to say I'm controlling my reactions, but I can't help rolling my eyes when Megan starts crawling around the ring. If she weren't such a goddamned lunatic, I'd probably have to settle for being the Arn of our particular group.

She finally appears to be getting around to finishing the bloody match, when a voice echoes faintly from the arena's PA system before coming out of the television's speakers. Chance. My jaw clenches a bit, and suddenly I know exactly what's going to...yep, Megan has been thoroughly distracted. Emily goes on the attack, Meg counters, but Emily counters that, and slips out of the finisher. "Get to Gorilla," I say, and the three of us all break for the entrance before the bell has even rung.

I give a wave to the sound guy as we approach, saying to the duo, "Measured pace. We can run if she does. Remember, put her down, not out. I don't want to give the commish an excuse to put someone else in her place."

"Yeah, yeah. We get it, already," Gemma says irritatedly.

Our music hits, and I push through the curtain, striding confidently down the ramp, Gemma and Red behind me. We get down to the end of the aisle. I'm about to direct traffic when suddenly I'm distracted by a flash of purple. "What the f-" I start as Megan LEAPS over the top rope, shoving between me and Gemma and running back up the aisle before jumping the fence and barreling through the crowd.

'God*BEEP*ing damn it,' I think as Megan runs off in the wrong bloody direction. 'Unreliable little...' I look back to the ring, and it seems the Emily has for once decided not to stick around and wait for us.

I am...nonplussed.

"Guess the drinks aren't on you after all," Gemma says flippantly. I just look at her. After a moment of matching stares, she squirms and breaks eye contact to go jaw with a fan.

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