The show opens with the camera focused on Callista Quinn. Quinn, wearing street clothes, sits down in the faux-leather chair in front of the desk of the FTW Commissioner. "Hello, Commissioner," the Countdown leader says with a bright smile that doesn't reach her eyes.
From off-camera, a woman's voice says, "I'll be brief. I will NOT have a repeat of First Strike, with Countdown running rampant. If it appears to be occurring again, I'll be forced to take steps, and there WILL be consequences."
"Commissioner, please," Callista says, that smile not slipping an inch from her face. "We don't need to have a row over this. You want us to dial it down a bit, maybe convince the owners that you can control us. I'm willing to play ball. But if I'm giving you something you want, it's only fair that you give me something I want." Callista smiles brightly across the desk.
(https://s4ck.com/forums/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fi.imgur.com%2FjcZr1Ax.png&hash=ece5089035605f5c1f0ae9aca286865b8d2e705c)
We fade to black from Callista's wicked machinations.
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 Valley 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%2FVV8Y78z.png&hash=b9d4f101b457cd3635650db872a95e4b7df2fc1a)
Immediately, there's the sound of distortion and the logo shatters apart, falling towards the viewer as the driving fuzzy discordant metal guitars of Toledo, Ohio's own Lollipop Lust Kill snarls their way through a murder metal cover of a familiar tune.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-FS3jCNda4o)
#REACH OUT AND TOUCH FAITH!#
Callista levels Emily Layne from behind with her trusty Maglite.
#Your own - personal - Jesus
Someone to hear your prayers
Someone who cares#
The Countdown confront Tiffany and Lisa Starr in a back hallway, and Tiffany gets in the ref's face as Sadie makes her smirking escape from Lindsay Campbell.
#Your own - personal - Jesus
Someone to hear your prayers
Someone who's there#
Rowan and Lord Tantalus go through their strange rituals in the darkness and Punky, in her horned skull respirator mask, turns and stalks away from her golden apple logo freshly tagged on a railcar.
#Feeling unknown
And you're all alone
Flesh and bone
By the telephone
Lift up the receiver
I'll make you a believer!#
Gemma gets right into Lisa Starr's face backstage, smash cutting to Lisa hitting the Straight Edge on Iron Michelle Blount and Gemma nailing a Mulkey with a Roxslide, then a jumpcut to footage that says "Courtesy of SPARK" featuring the two brawling inside a large house, showing the bitter rivalry between the two tattooed hellcats of FTW.
#Take second best
Put me to the test
Things on your chest
You need to confess
I will deliver -
You KNOW I'm a forgiver!#
A shot of the Red Enforcer folding his arms menacingly behind Gemma jumps to Lindsay Campbell putting her hands on her hips as she stands in almost the same posture behind Lisa Starr, followed by contrasting jumping shots of Red hitting the Hurricane Hugo straightjacket powerbomb and Lindsay hitting her Blue Flash chokeslam, emphasizing the power of both competitors.
#REACH OUT AND TOUCH FAITH!#
Emily Layne hits Punky with the Snake Eyes on the steel railing!
#Your own - personal - Jesus;
Someone to hear your prayers,
Someone who cares#
Sadie hits the Angel's Kiss and Tiffany hits the Silver Strike, both on hapless jobbers. Sadie locks in the Smiley Face on a screaming Shizuko and Tiffany hoists the Stomper up for the Flatliner.
#Your own - personal - Jesus
Someone to hear your prayers
Someone who's there#
Sadie smirks and poses on the stage and peers intently into her little handicam she uses for her backstage promos, constrasting with Tiffany's glamorous professional entrance and sparkling persona.
#Saaaaaaave me
Saaaaaaaave me
Feeling unknown
And you're all alone
Flesh and bone
By the telephone
Lift up the receiver
I'll make you a believer
I will deliver
You know I'm a forgiver#
A long sequence of back and forths between Rowan and Punky - footage from Rose City, from All Phoenix, from House of Hardcore of the two of them just repeatedly destroying each other with suplexes, piledrivers and brutal submission holds, a huge array of moves that are often recorded with both women just masked in blood, fading to a long shot of the last kiss Punky gave Rowan on the word "forgiver".
#REACH OUT AND TOUCH FAITH#
A shot of Callista Quinn, her eyes cold as ice, dragging a bloody Emily Layne down the aisle.
#REACH OUT AND TOUCH FAITH!#
Emily Layne hurls a dart into the forehead of Callista Quinn's 8x10.
#Your own - personal - Jesus
REACH OUT AND TOUCH FAITH!#
A final lingering shot of the new FTW championship belt.
The music becomes a background instrumental and fades to the sound of the roaring crowd at the Mid-Atlantic Sportatorium, visible in a crane shot. The arena is not WWE sized but is certainly respectable, a full-sized venue that holds about 4500, built to replace the TV studio that formerly held that title. Countdown merch is very popular throughout the crowd, but there are also I HATE THE COUNTDOWN shirts as well as Lisa Starr's logo, Lindsay's Dragon, Tiffany's shining crown and a handful of other popular FTW shirts. The shot cuts to Larry van Keel, his sandy hair parted in the center and looking resplendent in a tan tweed suit and bright blue bowtie with his Ben Franklin glasses, and Rick "Precious" Perle, spraytan nicely contrasted in his pink satin jacket and white chinos, his thinning black hair pulled back into a tail.
LvK: And WELCOME, everyone, to the Mid-Atlantic Sportatorium in Greensboro, North Carolina! I am your host for evening, Larry van Keel -
RP: - still wanted in every state between Pennsylvania and North Carolina for bunny smuggling -
LvK: ... and with me, as always, is Rick "Precious" Perle and THIS - is FTW SECOND COMING!
RP: I still can't believe we went with that name.
LvK: Neither can the Archdiocese of Minneapolis and St. Paul, but a few hundred Hail Marys and a large donation to the Church of St. Olaf later and HERE WE ARE!
RP: What's a little blasphemy as long as the Big Guy gets his baksheesh, right?
LvK: ... I'm going to assume you mean Kevin Nash.
RP: Nah. If he was here, he'd already have the title. And instead we're gonna see that title ON THE LINE for the first time, with the Countdown's mastermind Callista Quinn taking on that hot slice of sorpresata Emily Layne!
LvK: That's - actually, that's right! Great work, Rick!
RP: Just keepin' us on the rails, van Keel.
LvK: We WILL be seeing Quinn and Layne in the finals of a tournament for the world championship - although who knows what machinations Callista Quinn has undertaken with our own commissioner?
RP: Wait, when did we get a commissioner?
LvK: Read your emails, Rick! And in addition to the first ever contest for the coveted FTW title, we'll be seeing a grudge match that's spilled a lot of blood in the making of it as the Countdown's resident maniac Punky takes on Rowan Chance's chilling alter ego, Aika!
RP: That's one you're gonna wanna put the kids in bed for and probably cover your eyes for the scary parts. I know I'm gonna hide behind van Keel here if I see any hooks comin' down from the ceiling.
LvK: Your courage is as boundless as your journalistic ethics, Rick. The Countdown will be seeing more action as their muscle and menace, the Red Enforcer and "G-Force" Gemma Rox take on fan favorites, the Dragon Starrs!
RP: Now, THAT one I'll be keeping my eyes WIDE open for. You think the Dragon's gonna wear those tiny shorts again?
LvK: God willing, Rick! No shortage of bad blood there, as we'll see shortly when we hear from Lisa Starr and her partner Lindsay "The Dragon" Campbell - and there's no shortage of ill will in our first match of the evening, either, between the sweetly devious Sadie and the Platinum Queen, Tiffany.
RP: I dunno who to root for in that one. They're both REALLY hot and I'm pretty sure both of them could just beat the crap outta me. And that's also kinda hot. I'm gonna pull for Sadie since she has no ethics to get in the way.
LvK: You are, as ever, a model of the ideal Freudian therapy patient, Rick. Now let's hear from the Dragon Starrs!
The camera fades in on Lisa Starr, standing in the locker room and getting ready for the big Tag Match against the Countdown later tonight...
Wrapping white tape around my wrists and knuckles. Not usually taping my hands for my matches, but I just KNOW that this tonight, this isn't gonna be one of your regular run-of-the-mill Tag matches. This one's against the Countdown! And with a big guy like Red and a brawler like Gemma in the ring things just HAVE to get rough! Wincing a little as I get the tape on too tight. Taking it off before starting over. ,,Allright, Sunny. Remember the plan? Remember what we're gonna do tonight??"
Silence as I keep taping my fists. ,,Sunny?" I finish wrapping up my hands. Still no reply!! I turn, arms spread. ,,HEY! LINDSAY! Are you even..." Arms drop, face freezes into a look of confusion "...what the hell?"
The camera zooms out and shows the entire room. Lindsay Campbell is standing in front of her locker, wearing just her dark blue and red lycra wrestling shorts and a light pink bra. One of her socks is on the right foot, the other one in her right hand. In the other hand is an iPod. That firm ass of hers wiggles and shakes side to side in her tight shorts as it seems like she's dancing around there a little. And if you listen real close and put the volume to the max, you can actually hear her sing in a whispering tone.
Stepping up behind Lindsay, left hand going for the big, light blue and white headphones, a little red star on each earpiece.
A little startled as the headphones are pulled off my head. Spinning around to face whoever it was ,,Hey, what the...?!" Seeing it's Lisa "Oh...ehm...hi!"
,,What the hell are you doing? We're supposed to get ready for the ma...wait a moment!" Giving the headphones a closer look, raising an eyebrow at the Dragon. "Are these mine?"
Biting my bottom lip, looking into the ground for a moment, then shyly back into Lisa's eyes ,,I think so. I kinda...left mine at home, ya know?"
Holding the headphones up to my ears, hearing that light, cheerful whistling tone of Fitz and the Tantrums' "The Walker" "Forgot yours, huh? So you bring your iPod, but forget the headphones?"
"Well, I...ehm...yeah!"
We're just looking at each other for a few seconds, before I let out a soft sigh and hook the headphones over the back of Lindsay's neck. "Okay, whatever! Anyways...remember what we've been talking about? What we're gonna do in that ring tonight?"
"Ehm. We'll give it all we got?"
Raising an eyebrow at the tall ditz
"Never give up?" asking while my eyes narrow a bit in confusion and I tilt my head slightly to the side.
"Stop Cena-ing around!! The plan is to DO WHATEVER IT TAKES! Your goodie two-shoes approach may have worked against the Blue Fairy and Monstro, but this is the Countdown! They don't know rules! Well...maybe they do. But they also know how to bend and break them! To stand a chance against them we have to lower ourselves to their level!! Think you can do that, Sunny?"
Letting out a little giggle that almost sounds a little evil. A grin comes creeping across my lips. Nodding at Lisa "You know I'm totally capable of being mean and all! Just...ya know, maybe they're gonna play fair, and..."
"Oh shut it!" interrupting the naive babbling of my partner "These guys don't even know what fair means! You're acting like you haven't seen them in action before! Did you even listen to what I told you before your debut here?"
"Hey, since that day I have not ONCE touched your guitar!"
"...about the Countdown, Sunny. I told you something about the Countdown!"
"Hmmm..." My eyes narrow a little, head tilting further to the side as I think back. "Ehm....Ohhhh! Oh you told me to stay away from them! Cause they're dangerous, evil people who would just end up hurting and corrupting me if I spend too much time too close to them!" smiling brightly after remembering
"That's right, so..."
"...AAAAAND you also said that you can't have me corrupted and rotten like they are. Because you need ME around here to keep you calm..." brushing some of your blue hair out of your face "...and well-adjusted..." placing my thumbs on the corners of your lips, pushing them up a little into a smile on that, as so often, annoyed looking face of lil Lisa Starr "...and happy!"
My eyes drift to the side, looking over your shoulder as you get through my hair with your hand, then force a smile on my lips with your thumbs. I think the look in my eyes tells everyone exactly what I'm thinking and how I'm feeling right now. "Yeah...you make everyone happy, now back to the plan maybe?!"
"Huh? Plan?" I ask as I finally start to work my way into the sock I've been holding in my hands since the beginning of the segment. Hopping on my other foot as I pull it on, and getting a VERY stern look from Lisa. "Oh...oh the plan! Yeah...yeah, the match. Got it!"
"What have I done to deserve this?" I mutter and shake my head "The stay away from Countdown rule is obviously out of order for this match, cause I'll have your back all match long. Now, but what we're gonna do...you've seen Red's match vs this...former Rowan girl?"
The camera zooms in on the Dragon Starrs as they are lightly bent over, Lisa's arm across Lindsay's shoulder as they huddle up.
"Ohhhhhh no, no, no, no, NO! The girl with the mask is totally creeping me out! Last time I saw that promo? I couldn't get to sleep all night!"
Giving the Dragon a stern look "Couldn't sleep?! You're a wrestler, not a little girl! Grow up already, would ya?!" Letting out an annoyed sigh and shaking my head. "She hurt his arm! So, we're gonna..." raising my eyes, so does Lindsay and we look into the camera for a few seconds. Then my eyes drift over to Lindsay's barely covered chest. "Look, sweety...shouldn't you get changed?"
"Oh...yeah...probably!" Heading back towards my locker to finish slipping into my attire for tonight's match.
"Now to you..." Taking the camera in my right hand, staring right into it "Rox, Red, you're in for a rough night! If you think we're gonna fall to your bullying ways you're wrong! I'm sure none of your Countdown buddies is gonna have your back in that match cause they're busy with their own little demons. And in a fight with even numbers you guys don't stand a chance!"
Smirking into the camera "The fall of the Countdown starts tonight! You guys better bring some warm coats to the ring, because you're gonna be hit by a massive Midwestern Snowstorm!" Giving the camera a little shove to make the cameraman back up, then nodding at the door "You better get going now. But no worries! The Dragon Starrs will be back on screen soon enough."
The image fades out as the cameraman steps backwards out of the room...
"THUNDER..THUNDER..THUNDER...THUNDER!"
Instead of ABBA, AC/DC pumps loudly out of the speakers. "Thunderstruck" pulses into the arena and instantly the boos from the fans showering down on Ms. Davis shift to excited cheers. The sound of the AC/DC track can only mean the Platinum Queen is coming out for the match!
And goddamn does she look pissed.
I emerge on stage, decked out in a latex leopard print bustier that hugs my ample breasts and a pair of matching booty shorts that cling to my shapely hips. Fishnet stockings, knee-high wrestling boots, a simple choker and a kneepad on my left leg, all in black, complete my ring attire. My voluminous mass of flowing platinum blonde hair cascades around my face, down past my bare shoulders and ends off around my lower back.
Now, for a gal who just took a vicious crowbar beating from a crazed brat with obvious anger issues and a hair-trigger temper, I'm lookin' pretty good, real good. But I'm also showing quite clearly the affects of Sadie's vicious sneak attack, in the form of the white tape wrapped heavily around my right knee, and the noticeable limp in my step as I walk out. The fans take note of that, as well as the icy, deathly look in my eyes..if looks could kill, well, I'd be trussed up like Hannibal Lecter and locked down in a cell for life. The fans can definitely tell that I am NOT in a pleasant mood!
I stop at the top of the ramp and my glaring green eyes lock down on the source of my rage, standing there in a white top, navy bikini bottoms, and a pair of black Troopa boots. The kid just stands there, staring at me with big, bewildered eyes, a clear sign of wild confusion etched across her pretty face. I let her stir for a moment, glaring a hole through her as my fingers tighten around the microphone that I brought with me. My music fades out, replaced by the buzzing roar of the audience. I bring the mic to my lips - definitely not to sing karaoke.
"Sadie, was it? It's a real pleasure to meet ya. I must admit, ya got a mean swing, kiddo. Why, any gal would be holed up in a hospital right about now if they suffered the kinda beating ya dished out on me. But, that's the thing. Ya didn't just beat on 'any gal'. No, ya chose to beat on a Queen.."
I take a step forward, fingers tightening around my microphone.
"And a Queen doesn't just stay down when ya knock her down. I don't just stay down when ya sneak up on me and knock me down. Ya can blindside me, strike me down, try and cripple me with a crowbar, but ya best believe I will ALWAYS get right back up! And once I do, I'll grab the lil' BRAT that struck me down and give her the *BEEP*ng spankin' she deserves!"
I drop my mic onto the steel ramp and a loud excited cheer erupts from the audience. I continue glaring at the lil bundle of craziness who's looking a lot less confused and a lot more pissed with each passing moment. Balling my hands into tight fists, I start my march down the ramp, every step sending a jagged knife into my battered knee but I ignore the pain. I have only one goal in my mind and that's to tear this lil' gal apart!
Well, we're off to a mighty fine start..
I find myself laying inside the ring after Sadie roughly shoved me into it, breathing hard and trembling in agony as I clutch my battered, damaged knee. My scalp is practically burning from being dragged down the ramp and pulled around the ring by my mass of platinum blonde hair. My knee feels like a friggin' bomb just went off inside it, blowing it apart. It's a tattered mess, probably only being held together by the tape wrapped firmly around it. Gawd, it hurts so *BEEPING* much! I can barely focus on anything but that uncomfortable, stinging ache that's pulsing inside the battered joint. She did a real number on my knee with them elbows when she had me up on the ramp. But that ring bell, gawd, I can still feel the suffocating weight of it as she just SMASHED it down onto my knee! The lil' psycho brat, I swear I thought my leg was broken apart by the time she finished brutalizin' it with that bell! She's done a real good number on me, I haven't been left this badly hurt this early in a match in years..then again, the brat got herself a bit of a headstart in the parking lot, afterall. I'm starting to catch my breath when I wonder, where exactly is Sadie? I open my watery eyes and glance around, expecting her to be looming over me, ready and eager to torture me some more..
"You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life..."
I find Sadie, standing on the announcers' desk. Singing a classic ABBA song.
I stare at her blankly.
"See that girl, watch her scream, she is the Platinum Queen!"
My eyes narrow.
Are ya *BLEEPING* serious..
As the crowds begin to, rightfully, pelt the kid with food and garbage, I roll onto my front and push myself up. A flash of pain crosses my mind the moment my knee touches the canvas, and I wince and cry out in agony. It's in pretty bad shape, throbbing with a searing, painful ache that makes moving around difficult.
Difficult, sure. But, not impossible. I can put a lil' pressure on it, can still move around..it hurts like hell to move, but I can't think about that right now. The kid might have put a mighty fine hurting on it, but she damn sure hasn't broken it..yet..
I take another deep breath as I stand on my feet, wobbling a bit as I stand. It's tough to even keep my balance, but I manage somehow. My hands rub and massage my battered, taped up knee, cringing as it stings with such pain from the beating it endured. It's gonna be hell finishing this match, but I'll get through this. I've been in this spot before, I know how to work with one limb down, I can manage the pain. Most importantly, I can win despite hurtin' this bad. I can get through this. With steely determination I start to ignore the pain buzzing away in my knee, instead focusing all my thoughts on Sadie. She's fast, real fast. The kid's probably the quickest gal I've ever faced in my entire career. She was zipping up and down that ramp in 3 seconds flat, and she was moving so fast as she assaulted me I couldn't even find the time to react to her attacks. And, she's crazy vicious to boot. She's like a gawd damn Loony Toons character, she's all over the place. But, she won't be able to keep that pace up for very long. Not after I get my hands on her..
I see her outside, still lookin' all smug over the beating she's done to me, and that cute lil' ABBA rendition she serenaded us all with. I start to seethe. She thinks she's got this all wrapped up, does she? Thinks she's got me all wrapped up, and ready to taken?!
Oh sugar, ya gone and done the dumbest thing in the match so far--
Sadie turns toward the ring, eager to continue playing with what she feels is her new "rag-doll". But she stops dead in her tracks, her eyes becoming as wide as saucers. A look of terror flashes across her face.
--ya turned your back on me.
Moments ago, I managed to get to my feet. Caught my breath, gathered my wits, even got a chance to fix my hair a bit. Then, I charged the ropes, as painfully as it was to do so, and TORPEDOED through the top and middle rope, soaring through the air to CRASH into Sadie as she turns back to the ring! My forearm SMASHES into her face, her head snaps back, and her tiny frame just LAUNCHES back as I fly into her!
The crowd ERUPTS with cheers as the suicide dive sends Sadie flying into the announcers' table with a explosive *THUD* while I crash and burn onto the arena floor! Immediately, I clutch my right leg, the pain as horrendous as ever! I'm wincing and clenching my jaw, working feverishly to block out the torturous pain that plagues my knee.
The fans are stomping their feet and applauding wildly, and my name is chanted excitedly throughout the arena! Despite the agony that I'm suffering through, hearing their voices and cheers of my fans brings a soft smile to my face, along with a much needed boost of morale. Still feeling groggy as hell, I shake my head to clear the cobwebs and glance up to see ya now curled nto a ball, clutching your head and face while groaning in pain. Taking a deep breath, I drag myself up onto my feet by gripping the ring apron. It feels even worse to move now, but I limp forward anyway, moving as quickly as I can toward ya as ya lay there in a heap.
I reach down, grab a handful of your hair -- see how much YOU like it when someone's constantly yanking on your hair! -- and pull ya up until you're standing upright. You're still in a painful daze, so I clutch your hair tightly in my hand, shake your head a bit, then BRING IT DOWN onto the announcer's table! Your forehead SMACKS right into the table top and bounces off the surface with a LOUD *thud*, causing ya to snap back and stand upright in a daze! I let go of your hair, turn around and WHIP my arm out, catching your throat with a LUNGING discuss closeline! The fans let out another hollering cheer as we both go down onto the arena floor, you going down first painfully onto your back with my arm draped over your neck!
We lay there for a few moments and once more I reach down and clutch my taped knee. I rub it for a few moments, massaging it as it throbs. I turn to ya when I notice ya stirring, rolling over onto your side and coughing loudly. The back of your head just bounced off the floor mats, the impact into the ground must have knocked some wind outta ya. But, you're still in this, or at least you're trying to get back into this.
Kid's got some heart. It's a shame she's a lil' cheatin', psycho brat..
I manage to get back to my feet, feeling sharp daggers of pain shoot into every inch of my knee as I do so. Ignoring the pain, I stand over Sadie and reach down low, grasping a handful of her long dark hair once more. Standing ya up, I bend forward in front of ya, wrap my arms around your waist and hoist ya up onto my shoulder. Admittedly, it's sorta hard to lift ya up, not because you're heavy -- ya weigh as much as a ziplock bag of feathers -- more so because of the condition of my knee. But I manage to anyway and get up so you're dangling over my shoulder. Then, while carrying your petite frame, I take a few steps forward before abruptly DIVING into the ring apron! My shoulder CRUSHES your tummy while the edge of the aproned ring STABS into your back! I hear ya squeal loudly as the ring and I sandwich ya, and I have to admit, I actually kinda like hearing that noise come outta your mouth.
I slip back, grab your hair roughly, turn sharply to my side, and just WHIP ya into the ring, rolling ya under the bottom rope to properly start this match. I'm about to follow the brat when I pause for a moment, the knee locking up on me as it throbs painfully. I grind my teeth and kick my right leg out, trying to sooth the pain and ignore the buzzing aches that hamper the joint, before I turn back to the ring and climb in through the ropes.
Great. The kid's not only fast, but she's tough as hell..
I'm still trying to wrap my throbbing head around how this brat came back at me so hard after I thrashed her around ringside, even now as she's busy wrapping me up in the ropes. The ring and the arena feels like it's twirling around me, as if Sadie strapped me to a carousel horse and cranked the ride's speed all way up to MAX and broke the brakes while she was at it. Well, she does have me all tied up, tangling the ring ropes tightly around my arms to keep me trapped and helpless. I could barely even put up a fight as my head was just throbbing and spinning too much for me to focus on resisting. Truth be told, that kick that she planted into my face upon entry into the ring rattled me good. I've been out of it ever since, and the repeated stomps to the back of my head didn't help. I would only come back to life each time she went back to torture the remnants of my knee, howling in severe agony and struggling futilely to escape the holds she'd trap my leg in. If the work she already put into damaging my knee wasn't bad enough, now the kid was going into overkill. That stretch muffler shredded my knee to pieces, but that figure fou-, um..what was it, again? Actually, I really don't know what she was trying to do with my leg and the ring post, but whatever she ended up doing damn near killed me!
As I kneel here, arms stretched out to my sides and tied up in the ropes, my disheveled mass of platinum blonde hair hanging wildly over my face as my head hangs low over my heaving, buxom chest, I can no longer ignore the intense pain that's practically glowing in my tattered knee. At the same time I can't even do much as my head's pounding so harshly for me to act. I hate to admit it, but Sadie truly has me at her mercy. I hang there helplessly, breathing hard, reeling badly and hoping that I'll have enough left in the tank to withstand her next attack, when--
"The winner takes it all
The loser's standing small
Beside the victory
That's her destiny!"
..more singing? Gawd, what is up with that kid and ABBA..
I turn my face to stare at her bewilderedly as she belts out a few lines of "Winner Takes it All". In that moment I strain to break free of the ropes but they hardly budge, and I suddenly don't know what's worse: having my knee crippled, my head stomped in, or being forced to listen to Sadie's atrocious singing.
Guess her gameplan is to torture me into defeat..
I watch as she moves back to me with a chorus of boos following after her, my whole body tensing up as she comes closer. I'm dreading what she has in store for me, but reeling from her attacks and tied up like this I can't properly defend myself. Then--SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK! I let out a gasp and a yelp following every harsh slap that she smacks into my face! I feel her palm and knuckles rain down sharply against my cheeks and I can do nothing but endure them! Finally, she lets up, and my head hangs low again, leaving me panting for breath and feeling a lil' more humiliated than hurt. And awake. Those slaps, while embarrassing and stinging, have actually cleared the cobwebs from my spinning head and I slowly lift my eyes to glare at my lil' tormentor. She simply grins at me in that sinisterly psychotic yet strangely cute way of hers, taps me on my nose, and starts belting out more lines from an ABBA song. I furrow my brown, flinching defiantly in the ropes but they seemingly tighten around my arms.
Gawd. Now, winning is secondary. SHUTTING this brat UP is all I wanna do!!
She takes off, sprinting to the other side of the ring before coming back with a murderous glint in her eye -- and a flying forearm coming right at my face! With barely any time to spare, I snap my left leg up as high as I possibly can -- the flat of my boot driving into her forearm! Her body stops in mid-flight, awkwardly crashing into my foot, and I push her backward with a mighty THRUST! She crashes back onto the canvas, then goes tumbling backward a few feet to the resounding cheer of the fans!
Here's your *BEEPING* Waterloo, sugar!
Seeing the brat tumble onto the canvas in a heap, I let out a desperate sigh and work feverishly to untie myself! I pull my arms, trying hard to tug them free. Soon, I start thrashing wildly, struggling in vain to break out but the ropes just aren't letting go! Then, amid my frantic struggles, I spot Sadie getting to her feet! I stop and stare at her, this dreadful feeling creeping up inside me. That murderous look in her eyes has cranked up a few notches and she makes a quick line straight toward me! I simply stare at the kid as she gets closer, and for a brief moment I feel nervous. It's pretty obvious that she got all sorts of wicked intentions for me.. and I won't be able to do a damn thing to stop her! In her eyes she couldn't have found a more helpless, luscious target. I don't even struggle to escape or fight with the ropes anymore as Sadie closes in--instead, I kick Sadie right in the tummy! As she doubles over in shock and pain, I finally yank my arms free and find myself standing right in front of a bent-over Sadie. Sparing little time, I grab two thick handfuls of her flowing silky hair and I SHOVE her head in between my thick thighs. I bend over her and wrap my arms firmly around her trim waist, take a quick breath, and LIFT--
Hoisting Sadie up I flip her upside down and let her legs drape over my shoulders, before I just SLAM her down into the canvas with a thunderous powerbomb! A LOUD cheer erupts from the audiences as I PLANT the gorgeous lil' spitfire right into the mat, but I am NOT finished with her yet! Bending over her slightly, I take another breath before I wrap both my arms around her legs, both of which are still sticking up straight into the air. I clutch her ankles tightly and shift to the right so my back now lines up with the corner, facing the turnbuckles. I tense my body up and straighten myself, then I pull on Sadie's legs to make sure there's no bend in her knees. She's a complete straight line now, held upside down with her ankles tucked away beneath my arms. I take a moment to glance down at my wary foe. The powerbomb really took some fight outta her, but remarkably she looks like she's coming around again. Kid's got great resilience, I think to myself briefly, before I lean back, ALL the way back until I'm now laying on the canvas, pulling the brat's straight-stiff legs with me. Sadie on the other hand is now off her back and in the AIR, slingshotted right into the corner and shrieking the whole trip over!
Mm, she doesn't so bad now!
She collides with the turnbuckles, bouncing off of em' with a jolt, and warily she stumbles backward. In the meantime, I managed to get to my feet -- not nearly as smoothly or quick as I usually would, not with this banged up knee -- but I just manage to sneak up behind Sadie anyway as she staggers backward. I catch her as she bumps into me, my arms quickly wrapping around her waist, and I can feel the brat gasping as I hold her close to me.
Then, I throw her back into the air.
It takes a bit more effort on my part to lift Sadie up and German Suplex her than it'd normally would, all cause of my knee givin' me a ton of grief for trying to lift anything, but I manage. I send the lil' sexy brat sailing high into the air behind me to land painfully and unceremoniously onto the back of her head! The sound of her body impacting the ring is thunderous! Another rousing cheer rises from the fans and I take a few moments to soak them in as I lay flat on my back, while also taking a valuable second to collect myself.
It actually takes a bit longer than a sec to recollect myself. I knew Sadie was gonna be a handful, but I'm genuinely surprised that she'd take the fight to me like this. I know when I'm on a tough grind when MY offence is starting to exhaust ME. But, on the bright side, Sadie's slowing down a bit. Also, the throbbing in my head has subsided. The ache in my knee however continues to burn like an inferno. It's getting worse before it could even try and get better. I'm gonna have to end this soon, otherwise I'll be easy pickings for Ms. Davis the next time she's on the offensive.
I shake my head and roll over onto my stomach, pushing myself up with a grunt. I see Sadie laying a couple feet away from me, arms and legs spread apart, probably seeing a few birds fluttering in circles over her eyes. With a groan I crawl over to her, the frantic cheers of the fans encouraging me to crawl faster. I finally make it to the stunned and disoriented Sadie, just slumping over her and collapsing my weight on top of the little bundle of craziness. My right arm simply drapes over her chest as my body lays beside hers, and the fans start loudly chanting "ONE! TWO! THREEE!"--
--but, unfortunately, they're not the ones officiating this match.
The one who is--is in the corner, not counting the pin but instead holding his face. Something's in his eye, looks like.
Oh, for the love of Agnetha Fältskog--if he doesn't get over here right this instant and count my FIST will be in his good eye!
I sigh in annoyance, groggily sitting up beside the still stunned Sadie to yell a string of obscenities at the ref.
Ow..
Everything just hurts. My tailbone stings, my lower back is sore, head's spinning from all the stomps its taken thus far and the never-ending hair pulling. And then there's the horror story that is my right knee..
My legs crash heavily onto the mat once Sadie releases me from her Scorpion Deathlock and they both land into the canvas like deadweight. I lay there, broken and hurting, moaning in agony, my knee just SCREAMING now in horrific pain. I can barely move, that sharpshooter did such a number on me my body now just refuses to react as I lay in a tortured, worn down mess.
I really thought I had Sadie a moment ago. She was stumbling about wildly as if she had too much to drink, failing miserably to attack me but succeeding wonderfully at knocking the ref clean outta the ring. It was only a matter of jamming my fist down her throat before dustin' her off with the Flatliner. But, this kid just won't stay down! I went from nearly clobbering her pretty face into mush to screaming and hollerin' like a mad woman as she tortured me with that sharpshooter of hers! All within a flash. Scary to think about how things can change so quickly..even scarier when the 110 pounds of craziness that flipped everything on ya is now kneeling by your heavily taped leg, eagerly staring ya down with bad intentions glowing in her eyes. I cringe when her fingers start to claw at the tape, gasping aloud when I realize she's unravelling it from my knee! I can't even resist I'm hurting so badly, I just stare at her as she unwraps the tape and leaves my tattered knee unprotected, watching her helplessly as she lowers her mouth to kiss my aching knee. The mere touch of her soft, inviting lips on my battered knee makes me flinch. That wicked smile on her face as she glares at me makes me shiver all over.
"NNNGH!"
A strangled groan barely escapes my mouth as I grind my teeth and dig my fingers frantically into the tape wrapped tightly around my throat! My breaths come in quick, desperate gasps as I strain to breathe, feeling light-headed the more Sadie yanks and rips on that tape. I claw at the tape, bury my nails into the canvas, and kick my feet out wildly behind me! I feel my upper torso lifting off the canvas, her heavy boot just digging into my back! An agonized cry bursts from my lips and I whimper painfully, knowing she's going to do whatever she can to choke me out. Then, who knows what she'll do with me next..No, I can't let her take me like this--I WON'T.
With a growl, I PUSH myself up abruptly, practically lifting her leg up even as her heavy boot lays between my shoulder blades! Then, I shift my upper torso, pushing my hips forward to kneel upright. My hope is to unbalance the brat so she can loosen up the hold on the tape. My knee's stinging unbearably as it digs into the canvas, but I ignore the pain as best as I can in hopes of accomplishing my plan. I go back to clawing at the tape, desperate to rip it free as breathing got a lot harder, when suddenly--
The tape loosens around my neck. I let out a gasp of relief.
"Ohh no you don't!!"
A pair of fists come CRASHING into the back of my skull and I let out a groan! Dazed, I slump forward a bit, struggling to clear my head when Sadie starts to wrap more of the tape around me! She twice loops some around my throat, then over my mouth, around the lower portion of my head, pinning my hair to the sides of my face, causing me to bite into the tape and gag on it! I gasp in shock, but am too slow to react, and she YANKS on the tape which pulls my head back painfully! She doesn't stop there and wraps more tape around my shoulders, below my buxom breasts, pinning my arms firmly to my sides! Finally, jerks my arms behind me and hastily ties my hands behind my back with the remaining ends of the tape! A dreadful feeling sinks in as Sadie has rendered me helpless once again! Muffled moans escape my gagged mouth as she sinks her hands deep into my hair and YANKS me up onto my shaky feet! I whimper as she drags me back into a corner, standing me up while she takes a seat on the top rope behind me. She lets me wonder for a moment what horrors she'll have in store for me, then RIPSon the tape around my throat from behind! My eyes bulge, my body squirms helplessly and I SHRIEK into the tape around my mouth as she starts to choke the hell outta me!
It's even HARDER to breathe now, I'm becoming more frantic with my struggles! Feeling so trapped, unable to resist and fight back.. My shapely hips shift from side to side, buxom chest thrusted out, legs kicking desperately. Hands straining to break free of the tape, muffled grunts and moans pushing past my gagged mouth. My head pulled back roughly as the tape digs harder and deeper into my throat, cutting into my windpipe. Head's feeling light, can barely breathe, eyes starting to close..
Then, laughter. Wicked, devious laughter spilling from my lil' tormentor. Sadie's face hovers close to mine, we're cheek to cheek as she yanks harshly on the tape wrapped around my throat. Her lips plant a kiss on my cheek that sends a cool chill down my ruined body. Then, she purrs into my ear, with the same candy-coated voice that she used when she first introduced herself in the parking lot:
"You can dance.. you can jive.. having the time of your life...Oohh.. See that girl, watch her scream, goodbye, my Platinum Queen.."
...
No.
My eyes slowly open again, my entire helpless, battered body slowly coming to life.
Can't let her take me.. WON'T let her!
I hold my breath and tense up as Sadie continues to choke me as hard as she can. All the while I wiggle my hands frantically behind me until--I pull one free! I feel the tape around my chest and shoulders loosen and quickly I reach up with my free hand and grab a handful of Sadie's hair. Gripping the kid's silky long hair surprised her enough that she THANKFULLY stops strangling me! Tightening my hold on her hair until she start HOWLING like a banshee, I plant my feet firmly on the canvas and step forward -- and PULL! I FLIP her off the top rope, over my shoulder, and into the canvas with a harsh hairwhip snapmare! A deafening ROAR from the fans rises up all around us as we all watch Sadie crash and burn roughly into the mat four or five feet in front of me! As Sadie groggily rolls to her feet, I use these precious few moments to catch my breath and unravel the tape from my throat, mouth and upper body. Dispensing it into the corner behind me, I move forward--only to topple awkwardly onto my hands and knees! My right knee, it is almost completely broken! I whimper and grind my teeth as the pain plaguing it hits me at full force. Through glossy eyes I glance up to see Sadie is back on her feet, looking a lil glossed over herself. She turns to me, that angry look spreading across her features. I glare back at her, and start to shift my weight onto my left foot. She comes at me -- and I SPEAR her right outta her boots!!
Don't care if it hurts..don't care..gotta fight through it, stay on her..make her PAY..
I can hear the wind driven clean outta the kid as my shoulder DRIVES into her waist! Whatever's left of that wind inside her is knocked out even more once I slam her into the canvas! Her lil' body flails about as I land on top of her, and it quickly dawns on me that I have Sadie pinned beneath me. It's at that very moment that I just LET LOOSE. Like a machine gun my right forearm smashes repeatedly into her face! Over and over again I PUMMEL Sadie's face, her head bouncing off the mat following every blow! When she tries to cover up, I grab both her forearms roughly and SHOVE them over her head, pinning them down as painfully as I can to open her up for more forearms to her face! She let's out a cry and I switch from forearm shots to vicious SLAPS! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! I
"YOU, missy," I hiss in between thundering slaps, "are gonna have to learn some respect!"
I smack her silly, slapping her so hard my palm starts to sting. I'm about to knock her into next week with yet another slap, my hand held up high over my head, ready to strike like an agitated Viper -- but, I hesitate. Instead of slapping the piss outta the gal, I stare down at her coldly, and my expression softens. I see her whimpering there beneath me, eyes tightly shut, mouth agape and panting, both her cheeks as red as apples. The expression on her face speaks volumes, and it makes me slowly lower my palm. Even after EVERYTHING she's done to me, everything's put me through, that look of desperate fear mingling with radiant pain somehow calms my anger. Instead of slapping her, I lower my hand into her mass of matted hair--
"AIIIEEEE!"
Only instead of getting hair, my fingers are CHOMPED on by Sadie's teeth! *BEEPING* BRAT was playin' possum!!
At the very last stinkin' second she turned her face to my hand and BIT my fingers! I yank back my hand and hold it to my chest, glaring down at her in shock and rage. Sadie manages to wiggle out from under me, smiling devilishly though still looking pretty dazed from the torrent of slaps that I pounded into her. I reach forward to grab her, but instead I get a BOOT to my face! It's more of a push kick to shove me away from her than a real painful attack, but it still plants me on my ass. Sadie manages to get to her feet, though without that extra bouncy spring to her step that's been there throughout the entire match. She looks just as worse for wear as I, but she's still determined to punish me. Seeing me seated there on the canvas, she takes a chance and runs to the ropes, snaps off of em', and runs back at me--
That's it kiddo. Come to mama!
--only to run right into my waiting shoulders! As she ran the ropes, I pulled myself up into a crouched position. It didn't take Sadie long to return to me, and when she did, I made sure I was ready for the brat. She ran right into my Fireman's Carry and quickly I hoisted her up into the air! A split moment later I PLANT Sadie into the canvas with the Platinum Justice to a thunderous roar from the audience!
For a few moments I lay beside Sadie with an arm draped over her chest, breathing deeply while the fans buzz and cheer loudly all around us. Upon impact her body flailed and flopped about like a fish on land before finally collapsing into heap. She's definitely not getting up anytime soon.
However, I'm not finished with her just yet.
Slowly, I rise to my feet, fingers tangling in Sadie's hair to drag the lil' minx up with me. She barely offers any resistance as I clutch her hair in my fist. She leans back against me, her weight pressing completely against my body as I tower over her from behind. Then, I duck my head low, push it under her arm, wrap my arms around her waist and LIFT--
The gal's on my shoulders, stretched out in a Torture Rack. But her position up there lasts for a few brief moments as I throw her over to my right side and catch her head! Hooking it with my right arm, I drop down, and DRIVE the brat's head and face straight into the canvas with a DDT! The applause from the fans is DEAFENING!
The Flatliner just ENDS Sadie and she lays there in a crumbled heap! I sit down beside her, catching my breath and soaking in the cheers of the excited fans. I look up and see the ref FINALLY deciding to do his job and approach us. He looks a lil' dazed himself, but at least he's not in the corner sulking over gawd knows what. I push Ms. Davis over onto her back and roll on top of her, straddling her waist, grabbing her wrists and pinning them over her head. The ref..kinda just stares at me as I lay sprawled top of my vanquished foe..but quickly snaps into action when I shoot him a dirty glare. He slides down onto his side and slaps the mat--
1......2......3!!
HERE IS YOUR WINNER.."THE PLATINUM QUEEN" TIFFANY!!
The place just LIGHTS UP with cheers! I take in a long, comforting breath of relief as I taste the sweetness that comes with a hard earned victory. I'm still banged up and my knee is probably broken in a dozen places, but all that pain and anguish feels so far away. Instead, the feeling of triumph courses through me. I smile brightly as I get to my feet, still limping about but looking a million times better than only a few minutes ago. The ref holds up my wrist and a beaming smile touches my lips while my eyes sweep across the arena as I soak in the cheers and applause...my eyes drift over the sight of Sadie's battered form, moaning like a lil' baby as pain wracks her sexy body. Then, my eyes wander over to the pile of discarded tape in the corner. My eyes narrow wickedly and that smile on my lips deepens.
"Well sugar, this oughta teach ya to play fairly next time.."
I take a step back to admire my own work. Sadie now stands between the top and middle ropes. The mid-rope presses against her waist while her arms are pulled back and over the top rope. I used the tape to tie her wrists tightly together behind her back and I wrapped the remaining tape around her waist, pinning her hands to the small of her back and binding it all together with a firm knot. Sadie was still out of it from being planted with the Flatliner, which made tying her up all the more easier. But now she's coming back around, and I smile brightly as I watch her realize the predicament she's in. I step forward as she starts to squirm, clutching a tight handful of her hair to yank her head back. I lower my free hand down to the small of her back, letting it hover threateningly over her luscious lil' ass.
"THIS, kiddo!"
My palm comes down with a resounding *SMACK* right onto the derrière of Ms. Davis! She let's out a howl and her body squirms in the ropes while her hands strain with the tape, but that only causes me to clutch her hair even tighter and bring my hand back up again.
"This, is what happens--"
*SMACK* My hand comes down HARD once again!
"--to NAUGHTY--"
*SMACK*
"--lil' BRATS, who--"
*SMACK*
"--like to play--"
*SMACK*
"DIRTY!!!"
*SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK*
Sadie is reeling from the spanking, whimpering loudly and cussing up a storm as she continues to struggle! I soak it all in, savouring every bit of agony and humiliation this brat must be feeling from my spanking. With one last, stinging SPANK to Sadie's redden ass, I press closer to the bound and helpless gal until my lips are at her ear. With a silken voice, I purr into her ear:
"I hope ya learned your lesson, Princess, cause this is what'll happen to ya whenever ya try and mess with the Platinum Queen..your Platinum Queen.."
I turn my face to Sadie's and plant a soft kiss on her cheek before I let go of her hair. "Thunderstruck" kicks up on the speakers, blaring loudly over the cheers of the fans. I limp a step back away from the tied up Sadie, standing directly behind her now. Smiling wickedly, I tilt my head back and spread my arms out, posing behind the brat while she fumes and continues to struggle in the ropes..
*Meanwhile, backstage...*
As I approached the Countdown locker room, I steeled myself for a tough reception. The news I had to impart was NOT going to go well in certain circles, and I'd have to be on top of my game to make sure things went the way I wanted them to.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door and....nearly got run over by Gemma darting past me. I looked back to see her in her ring gear, holding a pair of red spandex pants in her hands, a mad grin on her face, the sound of something between a giggle and a cackle coming from her.
"GEMMA!!" a baritone voice behind me roared. She didn't...I looked back and saw that, yes, she did. The Countdown's masked member had had his member unmasked. He still had his mask on, of course, but his pants were being waved at him from outside of the locker room. Red was caught in indecision as to whether to run out after them or not. Megan was by the TV again, fixated on...of course she was.
I fixed Red's problem by taking two quick steps towards Gemma and yanking the pants out of her hands and tossing them in Red's direction. "HEY!" she said indignantly, but was cut off by a quick shake of my head.
"We need to talk," I said, inclining my head into the locker room. She flipped a middle finger in my direction but went back inside. Red was trying to pull on his clothes as quickly as possible, while Megan was still glued to the TV. Perfect.
Red, still struggling to put his Enforcer back in its sheath, looked over at Megan, "Hey, I was watching Sadie's match!"
"I'm sure she's doing fine," Megan answered.
"I told you the Commissioner would move against us," I said, raising my voice to try to pull attention away from the telly, "Well she has." I paused for a second before continuing. Megan was, unsurprisingly, ignoring me, or at least giving the appearance of doing so. "First off, she has warned us of 'dire consequences' if we interfere in each other's matches tonight."
Gemma sneered in response to that. Red was pulling on his boots. Megan was still focused on that TV. "Second, she...." I stopped, as if just now noticing Megan's distraction. "Megan, I don't feel I have your full attention."
"You don't," Megan answered without taking her eyes off of the match on the screen. I pursed my lips tightly, glaring at the purple back of Megan's head before walking in her direction. "Don't even think about touching me, Quinn, or I'll FUCK!" she shouted as the sole of my right boot crashed into the middle of Rowan's mask, the superkick sending the flat screen smashing up against the wall.
Megan sat for a long few quiet moments, staring at the shattered ruin of the TV. Her hands curled into fists as she glared at the fractured flickering screen, and there was a long moment where the whole room teetered on the edge of mindless violence before she pushed up off the chair hard enough to topple it with a rough clatter. Whirling, she slammed her back against the lockers hard enough to set the Master locks to swaying, and folded her arms across her chest, practically snarling. "If this is more fucking political bullshit about your fucking belt-"
"It is not," I said sharply, stepping out of the ready stance and clasping my hands behind my back. "She's switched your matches around. Megan, you're tagging with Red tonight. Gemma, you're facing Rowan." There. That should do the trick. I unclasped my hands. Explosion imminent in five...four...three-
"I'LL KILL HER!" Megan shouted, darting towards the door, a bit quicker than my expectation, but the reaction was EXACTLY what I'd expected, so I was able to get both arms around her as she ran past me, tackling her over one of the benches. We landed in a heap on the ground, but that wasn't going to be enough to stop THIS crazy train. Gemma jumped into the fray, wrapping her arms around the lunatic's legs while I got her left arm scissored between my legs. "GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME!" Megan yelled as she clawed at the floor with her free hand, trying to pull herself out from under me, "I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL HERRKKK—"
"Yes, I know," I said as the Maglite I'd pulled out of my pocket and slipped over her head pressed up against her windpipe in a (very) modified crossface, "That's why I'm stopping you. And true, that's partly because of the aforementioned 'fucking political bullshit,' because I'm pretty sure my match doesn't happen if you commit a homicide tonight, but I'd note that YOUR chances of getting a match with Rowan are slim to none. Even if she goes and murders someone to get herself incarcerated as well, I'm gonna guess the state will be smart enough to stick you two in different prisons."
I loosened up the chokehold to let Megan breathe. She took in a deep breath, but before she could let out what I could only assume would be a torrent of invective, I pulled the torch back hard again, forcing the breath from her. "I do NOT want to hear it! I've no patience left for this. Bad enough you've decided to carry this obsession to the degree that you have, but you let all the world know you were obsessed. We all have weaknesses, but if you SHOW THEM TO THE WORLD, you cannot complain when someone hits you in them."
At that point, Red had pulled his boots on, and he said, "Alright, enough. As cute as you all look down there, this ain't helpful!" That seemed a good idea, and I loosened my grip, pulling the Maglite away and pushing up off of Megan. Gemma did likewise. Megan DID let out a stream of cursing, but it was rasped hoarsely. The Red Enforcer offered a hand to her, which she accepted. "Come on. We got a match coming up, and if what boss-lady over here says about OTHER boss-lady is true, us not going out there is breach of contract. Probably means we both get fired. Now, maybe you don't mind that..." he said, before changing the subject. "Anyway, what say we go win that match and worry about tomorrow tomorrow." I bit my tongue to keep from smirking. I knew keeping him in the fold would pay dividends.
Megan seemed to be weighing her options, at least one of which (if not more) was hitting me with something heavy, but she sighed and gave Red a short nod of her head. Clearing her throat, she glared in my direction and said, "This isn't over."
"I am acutely aware of that," I answered dryly, earning myself a pair of middle fingers from Megan and a headshake from Red. The pair of them headed out of the locker room, and after sparing a glance for Gemma, who'd gone to pull out her computer to order another TV, I let out a sighed breath.
LVK: And now we have few words from Emily Layne, one of the contenders for the World Heavyweight Championship which will happen later tonight!
RP: Lets hope she wont play with darts again!
The shot opens on a gleaming red billiard ball, printed with the smugly smiling face of the Countdown's Callista Quinn.
RP: *Sighs*
The camera pans up, looking across the table at a shadowed but very feminine figure, bending over the pool table with the cue stick in her hands. Her cleavage practically spills from a low-cut black blouse, drawing wolf-whistles and raucous cheers from the crowd. Someone at the announcer's table gasps and there's the thud of a microphone toppling over.
The shot tilts upwards a bit more, revealing the lovely features of Emily Layne. She is concentrating on her shot before she takes it, rocketing the ball across the table and into a side pocket. Layne straightens up, blowing on the tip of the cue as if blowing smoke from the barrel of a gun.
"Good evening, FTW!" Emily says, wearing a low black blouse tied just below her breasts.
"I guess this is what you all wanted to see tonight," Emily murmurs, her eyes on the camera.
Emily casually moves around the table towards the camera, turning and bending over the table again to line up another shot, this time bending over in front of the camera to provide a close up shot of her little black shorts, drawing more gasps from the crowd until the camera moves away, getting a shot of another pool ball with Calli's grinning face printed on it lined up on the table in front of Emily's cue.
She snaps the ball hard, shooting it into a corner pocket before she straightens up.
"You are here to see sweet, nice sexy Emily against that evil manipulative Quinn in the ring, isn't that right?"
She shakes her head, black curls falling around her shoulders.
"You will be disappointed. Because you won't see that Emily anymore."
The camera pans over the pool table, which has three billiard balls left on it.
"They tried to kick me out of this business! They tried to put me down, to break me! But you know what? I'M STILL HERE. And I'm going kick *BEEP*ing ass!"
Emily bends over the table one more time to line up a shot and then picks up one of the balls, showing it to the camera with Punky's snarling face printed on it.
"This one already went down!" Emily giggles before tossing the ball over her shoulder to bounce away with a loud CLACK.
Emily lines up another shot as the camera zooms on one of the two remaining pool balls, another with Calli Quinn's face on it.
"Quinn came here pretending to save wrestling. Tonight I'm going to save FTW from HER, and kick her back into the hole she crawled out of!"
Emily snaps another shot off and shoots Calli down the side pocket. Emily straightens up, chalking her cue.
"And tonight, the World Championship belt will be around my waist!"
She grabs the last ball from the table, showing the FTW title belt printed on the curved surface. She puts it down and bends over deliberately one more time before taking a last cracking shot. The last ball sinks into the pocket and Emily throws the cue to the floor with a clatter.
RP: ...*coughs and wipes sweat off his forehead with a tissue* And I guess there is a commercial now
LVK: Not really Perle, we are going to..
RP: I said we need a bloody commercial now!
LVK: we dont!
RP: Someone throw me a coke!
LVK: I think a camomile would help you more!
The cameraman pans around quietly, barely a sound made as his feet tread ever so lightly down the corridor, like a gazelle trying to spot the lioness before she spots him. a voice can be heard, sweet, soft, English and slightly posh sounding... as the camera peeks around the corner a silhouette of Gemma Rox can be seen by an old arena curtain talking sweet nothings into her phone
"Hehehehe yeah, I had fun too. I'm glad you stayed the night..... Mmmmm...... The room service bill? Don't sweat it pumpkin, You can pay next time. Oh you're damn right there's gonna be a next time!" she giggles a little and bites her lip coyly as the mystery caller talks a little, the mic unable to pick up that half of the conversation "Tonight? Nah, I'm not worried. It'll be a lot more satisfying beating on that fucked up bitch. She should never have gotten up from the first beating we gave her..." but then the looming figure of Red Enforcer sweeps into vision and she stiffens up
"Hun I... I gotta go. Talk real soon babes" she finishes and hangs up
"Don't give me that look Red" The diminutive Englishwoman growls
"I'm not giving you a look" Red Fires back defensively
"Yes you fucking are... What? I can't see other people? This isn't a relationship Red it's a fucking business deal. You make that abundantly clear every time you drool over that Sadie kid" she hisses folding her arms angrily "Don't even know what you see in her. Tiffany didn't win that match tonight, your girl lost it. What was she even doing pulling back on that tape? She should have looped it around the throat THEN pulled. Rookie mistake..."
"She was trying to knock her out Gemma, not kill her." Red counters
"Like I said, rookie mistake. And she got a spanking because of it" Gemma smiles, rubbing Sadie's loss into Red's face
"Hey, lay off Sadie!" Red rumbles, a timbre of frustration resonating in his tone
"Why should I lay off her? I guess there isn't enough room with you laying on her every chance you get?!" Gemma bellows back "Or is that why you're so fucking tense? Your little bitch not putting out?"
Red squares off to Gemma, the mouthy tattooed lass pushing his buttons too far and the 5'3" pistol squares off right back. Through the eyes of the camera the sight is almost comical... Red towering over the 2 time Cheltenham all-girls school drop out but Red knows as well as anyone that she can punch well above her weight...
After a tense few moments Red hisses out "I got a match to get ready for, I don't have time for your *BEEP* Gemma. I just came to wish you good luck against Rowan tonight but seeing as I'm just a business associate I guess my friendly advice doesn't mean *BEEP*. See you back in the locker-room Rox..." he finishes and stomps away
Gemma's shoulders drop, the aggression replaced with regret "Red.... I.... I'm sorry. I was out of line... Red?! RED?!?!?!........FU#@&*K!" She roars, turning and pounding the wall with a heavy fist. It's at this time the camera man decides are tactical retreat would serve him better that discovery and the camera backs around the corner and fades out to black
x G x
(I gave this a polish, but it was another piece written by our very special*talent, Gemma Rox, and is from her perspective)
*short bus special, but special nonetheless
After making a quick call, I walk back into Fort Countdown. Not that our dressing room is precisely a fort. We've only got one defence for it: the certainty of instant and painful retribution. Everyone else on the roster knows to stay the fuck away when a show is on.
Callista is the only one in the dressing room, the others must have left for their match. Her body language is a bit hard to read, buried in that loose-fitting hoodie, but she strikes me as decidedly more tense than I'm used to. That ice cold exterior maybe has some pressure under it? "Hey boss, how're you doing?" I ask.
"Fine," she answers, not looking at me.
"I don't buy that for a second," I fire back plainly and she looks up, her eyes darkened under the shadow of her hoodie. Bringing her right hand up she pulls back the hood and I can see the micro-expressions are all there. Furrowed brow, clenched jaw, absent eyes...seems I was right with my assessment.
"Never clocked you for an observer, Rox. Just thought you liked to smash things," she retorts.
"It suits me better to be pigeon-holed. If people want to think of me as a brawler then let them. Truth is I spent four years on the boxing circuit and am quite clinical and precise. Still...I can see why people make the mistake of calling me a brawler. I'm normally screaming bloody murder while I swing and follow it up with more than a couple of boots to the ribs when they're down" I smile, drifting off into happy memories...
"Yeah, your anger is hard to miss. Maybe you should see someone about that?" she responds, then she just sighs...something is in her head space. "So how are you feeling Gemma? Rowan looks like she might be a handful tonight," Calli asks. Maybe the first time in history she's asked how I am doing. That confirms it. She's tense.
"Tired" I reply honestly "Truth is I've been tired a lot lately. I'm 33 years old and in the best shape of my life but I often wonder what it would have been like if I got started in this career earlier," I say ruefully.
"I was wondering about that. I can't find anything on you in wrestling older than 2009. How come you came to the game so late?" She asks and I grit my teeth heavily as my pulse starts racing...I don't know why hearing that she's been checking up on me is a surprise—it shouldn't be—but it is.
"Truth is? 2009 wasn't my first foray into wrestling. Took me a LONG time to work up the courage..." I sigh, thinking back, trying to let my anger subside, "I debuted 12 years ago when I was 21. Fresh-faced and full of life, I hit the small circuits hard, made a name for myself as a high flyer and hard hitter. Hehe...of course back then I was shy as a kitten so I wore a mask to hide behind. Hell, Lucha Libre was all the rage back then, and La Santa was big, so it played out well. The big boys liked what they saw and tested my footage with audience groups and my scores came back off the chart. I was all set for the big push."
"So what happened?" Calli asks, relaxing a bit. I think my story is helping to take her mind off whatever is playing on her so I continue
"I had my debut" I answer plainly "I was put up against another masked new girl who didn't test so well with the crowds but apparently had this god-given talent in the ring. I was looking forward to it, it was nice to rise up through the ranks with a friend and we were set to be rivals which was fun. They told me she'd had some matches before, and she was good—REAL good—so everyone, including me, thought she was going to win."
"They told me that she'd hinted she might want to work me a little after the match, I was cool with that, just to get where I got I'd taken plenty of beatings, it's part of the game, right? Well. Either she lied to them or they lied to me, because that wasn't a "little" beating I got. It was like she was trying to prove something. I dunno. Anyway, she beat the fucking shit out of me, I was in pieces..." I growl, my fists clenching tightly now as Callista leans in, fully captivated.
"So...what then?" she asks, the tall woman unconsciously leaning forward, sitting on the edge of her seat...
"She went for her finisher. Crucifix power bomb. When I took it in the match, I was still there, y'know? Tucked my chin and took it on the back. Hurt like fuck but what're you gonna do? After having my head rammed into the post a dozen times or so? I was totally out of it. Took the landing right on the back of my head. Broke my neck..."
Calli sits back, her face somewhat ashen. It's not often I see her look human, this is one of those rare times. Any tension that eased during the telling of my story is back with a vengeance. Her body is rigid and her face a little shocked "I dunno how I was still conscious. I wished I wasn't. But I was. Then she just stood over me and told me, 'Sorry, It's just business.' Just Business?" I growl out. "JUST BUSINESS?!?!" I roar and swing, my taped fist annihilating a locked door with a resounding boom "I'M LAYING ON THE CANVAS TWITCHING, I CAN'T FEEL MY FUCKING LEGS AND IT'S JUST BUSINESS?!?!?!" I scream, my whole body just a fusion reactor of hate right now.
Along silence hangs over us both as I prowl back and forth the locker room for the moment, trying to calm myself. Eventually my pulse returns to normal. "So yeah...for a year I was in rehab, most of that time I was trapped. Trapped in my own FUCKING body. You know what it's like having your own flesh and blood be a cage?!?!" I ask, my tone gravelly and dripping with bile. More silence...
Eventually the silence is broken "Did you ever find this girl?" she asks.
After a little pause, I reply, "I looked for her..."
"...and?"
"Nothing. She wrestled for a few more months, then disappeared. I don't know if she changed masks or just dropped out of wrestling. Management went quiet on me. Probably knew I wasn't after a rematch. I heard it from someone that they never even TOLD her what she'd done to me. After all...what if she had a crisis of conscience? Don't wanna lose TWO prospects in the same night" I growl bitterly
"I tried to move on...tried to live a normal life. But I couldn't hide from it. All this rage...while I was laying there, staring at my feet, hating myself, hating the world, willing them to move...That rage just built and built and built... 2 years later and it's still burning bright." I growl looking at the smashed locker. Callista's locker.
"Sorry about that" I throw in casually "But I guess now you know why I'm so angry..." I finish and walk out the door, needing some fresh air. Callista sits there, putting her hood back over her head, the tension she felt before our conversation returning tenfold as she sits in the aftermath of wrestler psych 101.
Lisa and I are in the dressing room, getting the finishing touches of our outfits on for our big Tag Match vs the Countdown. I finished changing and pack all my stuff into my sports bag. And just as I put it in my locker, I receive a little smack on my ass. I straighten up quickly, turning to see Lisa there "Stop doing that!" I pout as I rub my ass, but my partner's mind seems to be somewhere completely different and she kinda ignores my words!
"You ready for this, Lindsay?" she asks and my answer is a nod "I asked you a question. Are you ready for this?!" Looking a little confused. I mean, I just answered it!! "Eh...yeah, I am! Aren't you paying attention?" Lisa rolls her shoulders, takes a few deep breaths. She seems tensed, maybe even nervous or anxious. Finally our eyes meet, she grabs my shoulders and leans in close "Are. You. Ready for this?" She asks again
"Yes, I am!" I answer and she nods before speaking again. Louder this time, almost in a commanding tone.
"What are we gonna do tonight?"
"Beat the Countdown!"
"How are we gonna do it?"
"By doing whatever it takes!"
"Again!"
"By doing whatever it takes!"
She gives my shoulders a little shove
"AGAIN! HOW WE GONNA DO IT?!"
she almost yells at me!!
"BY DOING WHATEVER IT TAKES!"
Feeling like this is my first day in the Army!! I never knew Lisa is a drill sergeant! After that little back and forth she nods at me "Alright, then...let's go kick some British and Red *BEEP*"
We head out of our dressing room and down the corridor. Me slightly behind my Tag Partner who seems to be in a bit of a hurry to get down to the ring. I mean...I'm excited about the match! A little nervous, too! But...she seems to take this WAY serious. No word is spoken before we reach the Gorilla position...early!!
Lisa looks at him, pretty pissed that we can't get out there yet! So...I decide to slip in between them and smile at the Gorilla guy to loosen things up a bit "Hi there! I'm Lindsay! Nice to meet you!" I extend my right hand, eyes closed as I give him the cutest smile I got...and nothing?! I open my eyes and see that both Lisa and the Gorilla guys stare at me with a raised eyebrow. "Hmf....fine!!" I huff out and fold my arms. If they don't wanna talk, let's just stand in awkward silence while waiting for the cue. Sure! Why not?!
RP: Do we still show commercials?
LvK: Not tonight, it's a PPV!
RP: Oh...how lame is that?!
LvK: *sighs*
It takes a while, but finally I hear the ring bell!
Announcer: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest is a TAG TEAM MATCH!
LvK: You just heard it! Our next match tonight, will be the Tag Match between the Dragon Starrs and the Countdown! What do you think, Rick? Who's gonna be victorious in this one?
RP: I have no idea! The Odd Couple of FTW had an impressive win over Monstro and the Blue Fairy last week, but one thing's for sure, what they're facing tonight is much better than those seamen!
Announcer: Introducing first...
The lights flicker, so does the screen as the rustling of a disturbed signal makes its way 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, reading "DRAGON STARRS".
The Gorilla nods at us "Been about damn time..." Lisa mutters and makes her way out from behind the curtain, she's wearing a cropped, black leather jacket, zipper and buttons on the front are open, showing the front part of her torn black t-shirt. A red dragon wrapped around the shirt from top to bottom, ending right where she tore the bottom part off the t-shirt to make it end between chest and navel, showing off that chiseled six-pack she carries. There are also 3 stars on the top. A silver one right below the v-cut and a light blue one on each collarbone. A pair of tight black shorts on her legs with a thick blue, studded leather belt around the waist. Her legs covered by white and black, knee high length Converse boots with blue laces, and black knee pads right above them.
She stops at the top of the ramp, looking side to side before crouching with her left forearm across her left thigh. Her head is lowered as she raises her right fist, which is in a black, fingerless glove, before she drops that arm and puts the fist down on the ramp.
She's out like that for a few seconds before I run out from behind the curtain. Taking a few steps before jumping up. In the air I twist around 180 degrees and land on my feet right behind Lisa with my arms spread wide and my head tilted back. Closing my eyes as I take in the cheers from the crowd and the anticipation before this big match for us.
Dressed, as always, in a mix of bright neon-yellow and dark blue with red accents. A blue bikini top on top of a yellow sports-bra. A pair of tight blue shorts with a thick yellow stripe down the right side, and a red dragon climbing up the leg on the other. My yellow wrestling boots covered from the ankle up by blue leg-warmers. Wrists covered by yellow wrist bands, and my hair flows freely over a yellow headband.
As we stand there, the announcer continues: At a combined weight of 265 pound, the team of Lisa Starr and Lindsay Campbell. They are the Dragon Starrs!!
*5 minutes ago*
*The camera focuses in on Punky dressed in punkytails held with grinning silver skull clasps, her fists and wrists wrapped halfway up the forearm in black and purple tape, nails and lips done in glossy black. One of her new tees (available at ftwshop.com, punkymerch.com and thecountdownftw.com!) with the sleeves and belly ripped away - it's a chalk stick figure in white with purple pigtails holding a blue steel chair and a red hammer at the end of each little stick figure arm, and in purple text over and below the figure it says STAND BACK - I'M GOING TO TRY VIOLENCE. The shirt's over a black sports bra. Lower she wears her red joshi micro-skirt with a black Anarchy logo on it over black boyshorts, knee-high black stockings and her blood-red Doc Martens. She is stalking angrily in the back. Her partner is in his classic Enforcer gear of black wrestling trunks with The Enforcer in red on the seat, black kneepads, black boots and his classic crimson mask. He's striding at my full gate to keep up with his angry partner.*
"Look, Punky. I know you're pissed at what the Commish did. I know what it's like to have vengeance deferred. I also know what it's like to finally get that vengeance.....Hey, look. Stop!"
*He reaches out and grabs Punky from behind on both shoulders, wheeling her around to look at him. He's greeted with a face full of anger. Her jaw is set hard enough to grind her teeth into dust, fire is burning bright behind those dark eyes of hers, but he can also see..disappointment...yes. The veteran grappler is all too familiar with the mix of emotions that have to be playing about within his newly appointed partner. He also knows he has to tread carefully or she'll take out her anger and frustration and disappointment on him. *
"Puh.....Megan. Please. Just stop for a moment. Look at me. Really look."
*He does something rarely done at an arena where he is working, especially now in the day of every phone's a camera and the Internet is only a heartbeat away. The Enforcer notices the camera behind them and moves so he can't be seen from it. He pulls up his mask and looks his partner dead in the eye. *
"I know you won't believe me, but I do know what you're going through right now. I've been where you're at and I know where you're going. You'll have your shot at Rowan, trust me. Hell darlin' look at my shoulder and ask me if I don't think you should take your shot now. But the situation is what it is. *he takes a deep breath* I need you. Right here, right now. I need a partner who will watch my back and help me crush Blonde Ambition out there. We need to show them that Countdown is together and strong no matter what the Commissioner throws at us. They think we're easy pickings. Of course, they also think I'm coming out with Gemma. I want you to take that anger and that hate and that frustration and aim it like a missile at the two blondes in the ring with us tonight. We take them down. Convincingly. Countdown sends a message. And you send a message to Rowan. That no matter what mind games she's trying to play, you're stronger, craftier and more bat s*BEEP* crazy than she ever thought about being. Show her tonight by helping me show these young punks a lesson in the ring."
*He can see the wheels spinning in her head. She's bitter and she's angry. But she's listening. Soon that grimace of pain changes and turns into a slow, wicked smile.*
"Why should we wait for the ring? Let's go."
*She starts to stride purposely to Gorilla. The Enforcer pulls his mask down, turns towards the camera and smiles saying a little excitedly*
"That's my girl."
LvK: And the Dragon Starrs, for my money ladies and gentlemen, are looking absolutely fantastic and ready to lock horns with the Countdown!
RP: That mouthy Chicago broad is definitely trying to keep her big bouncy buddy on the right track. Doing whatever it takes is really the only way yer gonna beat the Countdown.
LvK: I don't know, Rick. I've always thought that beating a cheater under the rules made you a stronger- OH DEAR LORD!
RP: ... and THAT'S what happens when you expect to play by the rules against the friggin' Countdown.
It was even easier than I'd hoped.
All we had to do was get to the Gorilla position just a little ahead of the corn-fed blondes. I got Red to distract the producer with a question about the ring mics while I snatched a format sheet off the soundboard, making sure the Starrs were set to come out first.
Then I shared a quick grinning whisper into Red's ear before we powdered off to the wings, left and right, and just waited. It took a few moments for the production team to get things ready, during which Lisa stood there glaring at nothing and Lindsay tried to introduce herself to the gorilla producer like she was selling Girl Scout cookies. I grinned in the shadows. Lindsay Campbell would smile and try to shake hands with the Beast of Revelations during the last days of the Apocalypse.
Then that damn music hit, the fuzzy emo guitars sounding like they were being busted to pieces in mid-song. It was going to be a pleasure to cut this shit short.
We'd waited until they hit their trademarked Cool Pose™ just like I'd whispered to Red. Lindsay was soaking up the cheers in a cheerleader stance, dressed to lead an aerobics class in 1985. Lisa was crouching like a gargoyle with her Hot Topic glove pressed to the stage.
They were practically begging for it.
Red goes rushing in from stage right, snatching Lindsay's wrist while she's still basking in cheers and just YANKING the tall drink of Ohio river water into a short-arm lariat, tumbling her shapely ass over her pretty teakettle. Lisa's up on her feet and ready to fight in an instant, to her credit, but unfortunately for her I'm already moving from stage left and on her like peanut sauce on satay. I seize her by the shoulder and piston a fist into her kidney, and then I dance back a few steps as the pain hits her like a hot spike in the side. She staggers around to face me, following that basic human instinct to find out who's attacking you, and comes around just in time to look surprised to see me before -
*KRACK!*
- she takes a superkick to the jaw, my Doc Marten hammering her big mouth shut for once and dropping the blue-haired straight edger to the stage. Red and I don't waste any time posing over the fallen blondes as the crowd registers their disapproval in no uncertain terms. Dark New Day shuts off, and in the sudden absence of shoddy guitars we can hear the crowd roaring their fury. I'm sure Larry van Keel is having kittens at the announce table up by the ring as I leap up, getting a little air, and drive my right heel down into Lisa's forehead, driving her skull into the stage and leaving her down while Red drags Lindsay to her feet.
The Dragon manages to shove Red off and takes a swing at him, so I help sedate her by bounding up and hammering a couple of forearms into the side of her head, adding a knee or two driven into her belly and further aided by Red as he pounds her long lean back with double axehandles. We drive Campbell to her knees and then drag her back up, standing at her sides. I grin at Red and he winks behind his mask as we sling her long arms behind our necks and each of us scoops one of her legs up! We get Linds up good and high and then both of us kick out and drop her back, and she lands with a brutal *KLANG!* on the steel stage, hammered in with a double back suplex! Campbell flops over her own shoulders and lays facedown like deadweight on the stage as Red and I sit up. I slink over and drag Starr up by the hair, driving a knee into the side of her head to keep her nice and quiet, and then Reddy and I manhandle the little bratwurst down the aisle to the ring, leaving the Dragon half of the Dragon Starrs behind on the stage.
LvK: THIS IS RIDICULOUS! First Sadie Davis ambushes Tiffany in the parking lot with a damn crowbar, and now the Countdown is jumping the Dragon Starrs before they're even officially ANNOUNCED for the match, let alone in the ring! IS NOTHING SACRED?
RP: The Second Amendment, Seinfeld's finale, and Marilyn Monroe's rack.
LvK: ... I hate you, Perle. YOU KNOW WHAT I MEANT.
RP: Of course, van Keel. I'm not an idiot. But Lisa Starr KNEW this was a risk. She was telling Lindsay over and over that they had to be ready to DO WHAT IT TAKES. This is the Countdown giving a friggin' MASTER CLASS in doing what it takes to WIN.
LvK: Well ... it's a ridiculous MOCKERY of fair competition, and I don't have to like it.
RP: 'course you don't. It's a free country. And I know for damn sure that little big-mouth Starr doesn't like it either.
We hit the ring and I leap up onto the apron, caressing the top rope with my taped fists and taking a moment to look over my shoulder with a flip of my punkytails and give an obnoxious wink to the cameraman. Red scoops Lisa up in his big strong hands, cradling her between the thighs and by the throat, and his biceps shift as he gets the little girl up in a big gorilla press, holding her up before he LAUNCHES her through the ropes, between the top and middle cables, sending her crashing and rolling to the canvas.
She's barely flopped to a stop on her back when I'm already bending low, kicking my legs hard as I grip the top rope tight. My joshi skirt flutters as I go up and over, tucking into a neat flip as I snap my left leg out and bring it guillotining down across Lisa's pretty neck with a somersault legdrop, giving her a case of the twitches. I get a nice double handful of that blue mop - Honestly, Smurf blue when you could've gone with a rich imperial color? Fuckin' kids these days ... - and bully Starr up to her Chucks while Red has a stern conversation with the referee on the subject of ringing the damn bell.
It's apparently a very brief chat, since Red's out on the apron and the ref's waving the bell on as I shove Lisa into the corner and unload on her tight abs with a flurry of snapping sidekicks before I twist on the ball of my foot and spin around neatly, driving my heel back into her belly with a Zbysko kick. She groans and folds up, sinking down against the buckles and I caress my glossy black lips with my pierced tongue before I grab the top rope and yank myself forward, slamming my knee against her head. I press my chest in tight against the top turnbuckle, my arms dangling over the ropes for a long moment, grinding my knee in against Starr's pretty little forehead, and I loll my head back with a wide Cheshire cat grin.
Reddy was right. This IS fun.
LvK: Punky is just ... deranged.
RP: And in other news, water is wet, sugar is sweet, and Cleveland sucks.
LvK: The Red Enforcer might have gotten Punky's mind off of Rowan Chance ... but turning the Priestess of Chaos loose in the mood she's in is doing Lisa Starr no favors.
I slither along the top rope with both my taped fists and extend my stockinged leg, setting my waffled boot sole under Lisa's chin and grinding into her throat as I reach out to tag the Enforcer, who helpfully leans into range so I don't have to stop boot-choking Lisa. The ref applies a four count - I don't think even he knows whether it's for the choke or the fact that I'm the illegal partner now - and I let go, slithering between the ropes and going to take the tag rope as Red begins to drag Starr up to her sneakers to keep the punishment going. The little Cub's resilient for her size, so we can't slack the pressure off.
I wrap my fist in the tag rope, leaning on the corner and watching Red as he gets ready to go to work.
And then I feel the eyes, watching me.
Cold eyes. Mad eyes.
I whip around, looking into the crowd.
There's nothing there. Just the audience, a sea of faces twisted with fury and desire and bloodlust and animal instincts. A seething ocean of bread and circuses, and the half-conscious sprawl of Lindsay Campbell's neon yellow ass up on the stage.
But she's out there.
I can fucking FEEL her out there.
Rowan fucking Chance.
WHAT THE HELL?!
This was supposed to be a tag match, and it's turned into a 2 on 1 mugging before we even hit the ring! Punky's vicious attack left me stunned. That Superkick left a bit of a waffle-patterned imprint on my face. The kicks, knees and stomps to my head, the work-over I just received in the corner...I knew she's vicious and relentless! I mean, I saw her matches! But you never know what it feels like until you feel it. And right now? I'm feeling it! And it doesn't feel good.
With me slumped down in the evil corner, I hear the smacking hands as they tag. ,,Ugh...great..." I mumble under my breath as the big Red Enforcer climbs into the ring. He sets his oversized self up in front of me and I peek past him, leaning my head to the side to look past his legs to my corner....empty?? Where's Linds? I remember...Red attacked her on stage and then...then I got pummeled! What happened? Where is she?
Anyways, there's not really a lot of time to think about my partner and her whereabouts right now as I'm being considerately helped back up to my feet by a pair of big hands in my hair! ,,AHH...get the *BEEP* off me you *BEEP BEEP BEEP*!" Cursing at Red and he turns towards Punky who's pacing back and forth on the apron in the search for her Phantom. "She's got fire! It'll be fun to extinguish that!" She doesn't really react, though. Her eyes sill scanning the audience. Every single seat it seems and after a few seconds growls back at him "Do it, then!"
I don't like where this conversation is going. I mean, they could at least ask me, right?! They're talking about Lisa Starr, so why not ask for her opinion? On the other side, why should the Countdown even care for my opinion? They don't even care for their own! Red keeps me pinned back into the corner, arching me back over the top turnbuckle painfully by pulling my hair back. Forced to get up on my tip toes, my upper body's all stretched out and exposed when "OHHHHH F*BEEP*!" I gasp, cough and a hint of my spittle comes flying towards the third row of paying costumers after my lower abs just got hammered by a pretty harsh blow.
Finally the ref steps in, shoving Red off me, yelling at him to "Get her out of the corner!" and stuff like that. Meanwhile I slump again. Keeping myself on my feet by wrapping my right arm around the top rope. Left hand on my tummy, I'm standing bent over and hear Red's voice "Out of the corner? Sure, I can do that!" Moments after that I feel his body press against mine. Trapped between Countdown's Powerhouse and the Turnbuckles. He gets a grip of my arm and steps back. Looks like he's gonna send me running across the ring into MY partner-less corner.
He drags me off the corner buckles and steps back, he twists and..."Huh?" I gasp. He doesn't let go of my arm? Instead, he tells the ref "And she's out of the corner. Happy now?!" I know I'm not!! But again, nobody asks me. Instead I feel a harsh pull on my arm, straining my shoulder for a moment as I'm roughly jerked back towards the corner I was just pulled from. My sneakerboots pound over the canvas a few steps, I turn JUST in time to hit them back first. The rings tremble and dance all around the ring as I gasp out in breathlessness and pain, with my arms wrapped around the top rope.
LvK: This isn't good. This isn't good at all! It's dangerous enough when you're up against ONE Countdowner! Now Lisa's alone against two and she seems to be a little over matched after this brutal assault by these two cowards! If Campbell doesn't get into this soon -
RP: - and she won't -
LvK: Starr's gonna be destroyed -
RP: - and she will be!
LvK: You're not helping, Perle! And you can't tell me you actually like what you're seeing here?
RP: Actually I do! I got a great view! The splayed out, semi-conscious Dragon, the moaning, gasping and contorted Starr, and that animalistic, brute, powerful Punky on the prowl up there on the apron? You'd have to be blind, gay or dead to not enjoy this!
LvK: Look, Perle! The Enforcer!
RP: Why would I wanna look at him? I'm not gay, I thought I made that clear! Means you can have him all to yourself!
LvK: I...they're wrestling in there! He's setting up a move, Perle!! For God's sake would you PLEASE just do your job?!
Red's taken some time after tossing me back into the corner to have a little discussion with the ref about what he meant with the phrase "Out of the corner!". After that short dispute, Red took some more time to show off for the booing crowd. I think I can consider myself lucky I don't seem like a big threat to these two right now. If I were, Punky would have probably poisoned me while the ref was distracted. She's back in her corner outside the ring, but still scanning the crowd, looking for what used to be Rowan Chance.
Finally Red's taken his spot in the opposite corner. He takes a moment, a deep breath and then his boots come pounding across the boards. It sounds AND feels like a stampede in here! The entire ring trembles with each heavy stomp as he runs across the ring towards me. He leaps, flies in and...BANG!
"YAAAAAAAY!" the crowd explodes into cheers as I duck my head down and push myself out of the way. Had that guy just landed his splash on me, I'd be even flatter than I already am, and probably done for the rest of the night as well. But luckily I didn't get crushed! Red slammed into the corner buckles full force and staggers back towards mid-ring.
I quickly move in from behind and grab for his left wrist. Bringing it up with both hands and I twist and spin underneath his arm. Twisting that injured left shoulder (Check out the Road to Second Coming on FTW TV to see why it's injured. http://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php/topic,42094.msg326013.html#msg326013 (http://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php/topic,42094.msg326013.html#msg326013) We're only 9,98 $ !!!) as I turn to end up facing him. "Hey there, Bitch!" I smirk into his face before leaping up. Now wrapping both of my arms around his left one and I throw myself back. We go down, me back first, and Red? He's letting out a short yelp of pain as I slam him, shoulder first, into the canvas.
As he rolls away, clutching his shoulder, I quickly kip up to my feet. The crowd cheers, Red's down and his partner? Lemme see how she's doing! I put a cocky smirk on my face as I turn to face her standing on the apron, but..."Wait, wha?!" I gasp as just now I realize who's standing there! This isn't Gemma. I thought it was supposed to be Gemma?! Through all the punishment I took I never got a chance to see WHO was working me. All I saw through my blurry vision was pale, tattooed skin.
And now there she is! "The Purple Vixen" Megan Dow, and...she's turned around?! Staring out into the crowd...probably looking for her little lover, huh? It's understandable that she's cautious after what happened in that #1 Contender's Match, but...I can't accept that. The Future of Wrestling is in the ring and the Purple Vixen is looking away?! Nope! Totally unacceptable! So I step to the ropes and slam my right forearm across her back. The crowd goes "OHHHH!"
I see her back arch for a moment before she turns around to look at me. We just stare at each other for a few seconds. If looks could kill, we'd both be dead. I finally break the silence "What the hell are YOU doin here, huh? Think you're smart for pulling that lil switcheroo? Think you're tough attacking from the shadows? Well, WHY DON'T YA GET YOUR *BEEP*IN ASS IN HERE AND FIGHT ME FACE TO FACE, HUH?!" I yell at her, which makes the corners of her glossy black lips curl up to an evil looking grin. She lifts her left leg a bit, about to climb into the ring. Making the crowd rise, cheer, chant...until the ref steps between us
"No, you stay outside, Dow! And Starr, legal opponent's the Red Enforcer! Wrestle!" I raise my eyebrow at him, then at her as she sets her heavy boot down on the apron again with a short laugh. She knew it!! Narrowing my eyes as she sends a silent "Soon" my way. "Grrrrrr FINE THEN!" I hiss at the ref and then turn my attention back to Red, who made his way up to his knees during this little confrontation in the Countdown's corner. With him down like that, I grab for that left arm and twist it again, standing at his side and facing the same way he does...towards his Purple partner.
LvK: And just like that Lisa's turned this around! She's got the Enforcer down!
RP: And working that arm is a great idea! I never thought I'd say that, but, in this Tag Match, the Red Enforcer seems to be the weak link!
LvK: And I never thought I'd say this, but...you might be right, Perle! And, OHHH!! Especially if Starr keeps going like this!
Mr. van Keel's little groan has been brought to you by Lisa Starr's boot. With Red's arm twisted and me at his left side, I brought my right foot up and STOMPED down hard on that twisted shoulder! The impact and the pain makes him bend over on his knees, but I decide I'm not done with it and straighten him up again. My boot goes up once more and BAM!! Sending another stomp on that shoulder. Now I grab for the top of his red mask with my right hand, left still on his wrist. Pulling on his head and arm to straighten him up on his knees. "Take a good look, Punky! And listen close." I hiss at her and place my padded knee against the back of his shoulder. Then I hop up with my left boot and let gravity carry us down.
And with a thud we DO come down! All my weight on Red's shoulder to send that part of his body first into the canvas again. I do a forward roll after the impact, rolling through the impact before springing back up to my feet. And guess where I end up? You're right! Just inches from Punky! The ropes are the only things separating us as we stand face to face once more. The ref tries to keep things under control, telling Punky to stay out there, and telling me to leave the 'illegal' participant alone.
Waving him off along with a little "Sure, sure." and take a step back. Turning away from Punky to face the downed Enforcer again. Keeping my arm extended towards the Purple Vixen though, flipping her off as I turn.
RP: I got a feeling Starr doesn't like Punky.
LvK: You don't say?! What makes you think so?
RP: She looks at Megan the exact same way my ex-wife looks at me!
LvK: Which one?
RP: The second!
I'm headed towards Red, who's still cursing in pain and holding his shoulder while on the canvas. I'm not stopping when I reach him, though. Instead I send a quick stomp down to his upper back to keep him down and head to the ropes. Looking out at Lindsay who's not really moving out on the ramp. "LINDS!! LINDSAY!" yelling up the ramp, looking back over my left shoulder to see Red starting to roll towards his corner. I turn to my partner again. "LINDSAY *BEEP*ING CAMPBELL! GET YOUR ASS IN HERE!!"
I turn to see Red getting pretty close to his corner. And, as much as I wanna get my hands on this Purple haired witch, I can't let this tag happen! I'm alone and can't have these two tagging in and out on me. I run back along the ropes towards their corner. My right arm extended at my side. I reach Red and take another few steps. The plan being to intercept him and drill him face first into the canvas with a Facebuster! But the plan isn't perfect...
"UFFFFF!" I gasp along with the crowd in unison. My eyes bulge and I fold over. Just like that...my momentum is stopped. I was too close to the ropes, Punky came speeding around the ring post and towards me on the apron. All it took was a leg held out between the ropes and I ran straight into her waiting knee! I fold over, release the back of Red's head. And not even a second later...
"YAAAHHHA!" I cry out as Megan gets a rough grip on my chin, turns my back towards the ropes and she hops back off the apron. Straining my neck across the top rope with a classic reverse-guillotine at the ropes. Feeling like my head was almost pulled off my shoulders here!! I bounce back off the ropes, stagger a few steps forward and...
*BOOM* Red's right there, waiting for me!! And after taking a short run-up, his right leg comes up and the sole of his boot comes slamming across my face! The Big Boot floors me, I'm taken down hard and my legs Jackknife up over my body. The boards bounce a little underneath me. Laying folded up for a second or two before my body unfolds and I lay spread out in the middle of the ring. The crowd has lost a bit of their volume, but most are now back to booing the hell out of Punky and Red.
My eyes open wide, now having 2 different footprints in my face...and the match isn't even 5 minutes old!! I hear the boos from the crowd, the evil laugh from Punky outside the ring, and I see a shadow appear above me as Red stands there, grinning down at me from behind his mask. "Ugh...*beep*!" My head lolls to the side, looking up the ramp to see the still motionless Dragon.
LvK: Countdown's looking mighty proud in there after taking Starr down.
RP: And they have the right to be proud! They got this top FTW competitor down and hurting. Give me one reason, van Keel! Why shouldn't they be proud?
LvK: I can give you more than one! This was a cheap shot by Punky, they started the match by beating the Dragon Starrs up on the ramp, and now this is a 2 on 1!
RP: Wrong! This isn't a 2 on 1! It's a Tag Team Match! It's not their fault the nutty Dragon's taking a nap on the ramp.
LvK: It's not their fault?! Wh...wha, WHAT?! Are you f...*a sigh and a few deeeeep breaths are heard* Calm down, Larry. Calm down!
It takes me a while to get back to my senses after the brutal sneak attack I've suffered on the cold, unforgiving steel ramp. My head is pulsing after the shots I took by the Purple Vixen and the Red Enforcer. At least, that's who I think they were. I just caught short glimpses of both attackers, and with my stunned and dizzy mindset I have no idea who it really was. Why should Megan even be out here? Aren't we supposed to take on Gemma and Red?
,,Owwwwwwww"
LvK: This isn't good for the Dragon Starrs!
,,Ahhhhhh"
RP: You're damn right it's not. But it's good for business! You don't want to have Punky around you when she's got anger issues. And this is a great way for her to relieve all that stress.
My eyelids start fluttering, right arm comes across the back of my throbbing head.
LvK: Come on Perle, are you serious? They could have seriously injured Campbell with that move on the steel ramp! And, and...ohhhh come on!! A blatant choke to a helpless Starr! This isn't right!
I keep laying there as the Countdown puts a beating on my outnumbered partner. I KNOW I gotta get up! I KNOW I gotta get down to that ring! Because if I don't...gawd, I don't even wanna know what's gonna happen to Lisa!
After a while of laying motionless on the cold steel, I hear the crowd coming to life, along with some thuds coming from the ring. I don't see it, but Lisa's starting to put a beatdown on Red! Doing exactly what she told me to do before the match started. Go after that injured arm! I didn't like that plan all that much. Taking advantage of existing injuries isn't really my thing. But Lisa was very persistent. Why, you ask? Simple: Because Lisa Starr knows no mercy!
After a while, I hear her 'lovely' rock-chick yelling voice "LINDS!! LINDSAY!" which sounds to me like it's much further away than it actually is.
"Huh?"
"LINDSAY *BEEP*ING CAMPBELL! GET YOUR ASS IN HERE!!"
"Wha?"
I slowly raise my head, my eyes only halfway open. Through my blurry vision I see Lisa run across the ring. Just looking up after she's turned, and just in time for me to see Lisa run right into that Trifecta from hell. Her athletic and sexy lil body beaten back and forth at the ropes by Meg's knee and that neck-breaking Rope-Guillotine before she staggers right into that crushing Big Boot by Red that leaves her down flat on her back and with her tightly covered ass up in the air for a few seconds.
The crowd groans as Lisa ends up splayed out in the middle of the ring at the feet of a posing Red, and right behind Punky who casually leans back against the ring apron, grinning out into the crowd so they can take a few nice snapshots of her with the downed Starr right above her shoulder.
"Nooooo!"
I groan and now start to push myself up to my hands and knees. My hair falls over my shoulders and cascades to a curtain around my face so I can't see Red distracting the referee by convincing him that the laces of the boot he just kicked Lisa's head off with aren't really tight. He backs off to the middle of the ring and DEMANDS that the ref re-laces them. And while he does, Punky, still standing outside the ring, drapes Lisa's throat across the bottom rope and pulls. Choking my stunned partner with the rough cable while snarling right into her face.
I rise to my feet, swaying side to side a bit with my arms limply dangling down my sides. The crowd doesn't even notice it as they're glued to the action in (and around) the ring. Megan sees the Ref finished re-lacing Red's boot and finishes her work with a stiff, straight right hand to Lisa's jaw to send her tumbling off the ropes to a heap in Countdown's corner before the Purple Vixen climbs back up and takes hold of her tag rope.
I'm breathing hard, hair still hanging over my face as I stand there on jelly legs and with my hair hanging all over my face. I must look like a pretty and blonde version of that "The Ring"-girl! Eventually, some of the guys in the crowd up the ramp see me up and a murmur starts going through the crowd.
I start taking small steps towards the ring, more staggering and stumbling than walking, but it'll do! And the crowd starts getting on their feet. Hearing things like "Come on, Dragon!" and "Go, Lindsay! Go get 'em!" Normally I'd make a few stops on my way to the ring, but right now that won't do. Through my hair I see Lisa dragged up to her feet, quickly picked up and SLAMMED down with a harsh Bodyslam by the big guy in red.
I keep making my way down the ramp. Now maybe looking even more like that girl from the horror movie – or maybe like a Zombie – as I stagger down towards the ring. Slowly, but steadily making my way to come to the aid of my best friend and partner. Looking to turn this Handicap Match back into a 2 on 2, old fashioned Tag!
"Hold on, Lisa...I'm coming..."
I subconsciously grab my shoulder with my right hand trying to squeeze some blood flow into it. Right now it feels like a dull ache with some pins and needles stabbing under my skin. I see Lisa down on the mat and I know we need to keep this punishment up. Punky's in the right frame of mind so far so let's start with some easy moves till I get my shoulder back.
LvK: And the Enforcer goes over to Lisa and hauls her petite frame up.
RP: I kinda like how Lisa does that sexy boneless dance.
LvK: She's nearly out of it due to the dastardly double teaming of Countdown!
RP: Yeah and that pumphandle slam...ouch...doesn't look like it'll help her any.
LvK: Quick cover by the Enforcer, but a kick out at two.
RP: Smart move by the Enforcer, make Starr use more energy to kick out early.
LvK: He has her hair and is hauling her up.
RP: Smart move by the Enforcer, make Starr regret having pullable hair.
LvK: What does that even......?
I toss the little pixie into the opposite ropes and cock back my good arm for a nice, solid lariat and.....Miss? What the?
LvK: Starr ducks and hits the other side, coming off with a dropkick right on the button! Austin Aries would be impressed with that one!
RP: Austin Aries would be checking out her legs and her *BEEP*.
LvK: .....yeah, you're right. But as Lisa looks around she still doesn't have anyone to tag!
Well damn, beaten down as she is, she's still pretty quick. And that dropkick got me right in the jaw. Hurts as bad as a Jim Brunzell kick. I need to nip that in the bud. She's still looking around for her partner so I go up behind her, wrap my arms around her waist, give her a little squeeze and haul her up off the mat and over my back in a release German suplex. Owwww. Shoulder is still gamey. I lumber over to Lisa and grab a handful of her hair. Yeah, the blood is flowing now. I love this part of the match, right after the initial adrenaline rush wears off and you settle into the real combat. Let's just drag her back to our corner and I'll reach back for a tag and....nothing.
I turn my head to look at my partner and she's not paying me a bit of mind. Dammit! Get your head in the game! I can't believe she's pacing the apron and looking for Chance and not in this match!
I turn back around and get kicked in the face. I think she just lifted her leg up or something and didn't really have a lot behind it. But, she gets to feel how pissed I am, even if I'm more pissed at Punky than at her. I haul her up to her feet and spin her around to me, lifting her up in the air as my arms clamp down for a solid bearhug. This hold doesn't tax my shoulder like others, but I still should be able to work her over for a while like this and slow down that feisty nature of hers. Yeah, I'm grinning under my mask as I pull Lisa into me, arms flexing into her sides and wrists digging into her back, grinding away at the bearhug as I feel her tiny frame yielding to the pressure I'm firmly applying. Hmmm, just a little longer in this hold and I may...
It takes an effort to wrench my attention off scanning the crowd for Rowan, but being love-tapped by that little Smurf Lisa Starr managed to do the job. She has my FULL attention after that, which I'm sure she regrets after I crunch her with a knee through the ropes and then snap her neck off the cables to send her right pretty little face into Red's size 12 Stagecoach boot. Red scrapes Starr off the mat and I smirk a little as he pumphandle slams her into the canvas, giving a desultory middle finger to the ref when Starr kicks out at 2.
I mean, Red has this under control.
I really should keep my mind on the match.
But there's no sign of Lindsay still and Red's got Starr in hand and ...
... I fuckin' KNOW someone is WATCHING me. I feel like god-damn Rockwell!
I whip around to the crowd again. Some wiseass in the front row tries to get cute so I jaw with him a little bit about his IQ, theoretical genital size, and income bracket that eventually has him subside into bitter silence. The crowd continues to pester me with boos that only raise in volume as I tastefully flip them off with a double bird. I stalk back and forth along the apron like a lioness in the zoo at feeding time, with just as many gaping idiots gawking at me. My eyes flicker over the crowd, looking for that LOOK Row- Aika has. Because she won't be out here without her mask. No.
There's more noise in the ring, but no sound of counted pinfalls. I growl in my throat.
"The *BEEP* is TAKIN' so long, Red?"
I finally whip back around, my purple punkytails whirling with me, and my eyes narrow as I see The Red Enforcer fucking SNUGGLING Lisa in a bearhug. Like we have all the time in the god-damn world to go through his repertoire of the Greatest Holds of the 1980s. Lisa's starting to sag on his shoulder but she's clearly not going to go lights out right away. She might be an annoying smug little bitch who bites my style like Vanilla Ice bit Queen, but she's tough as a cheap Chicago steak. I roll my eyes and get my boot on the bottom rope, pushing up and leaning way over to SMACK the Enforcer's beefy shoulder with a blind tag since he has his back to me.
The referee indicates the tag and I bound over the top rope, vaulting and hammering my Docs to the mat with a thud. Red slowly gives me one of his Angry Southern Stares™ and starts to lay into me. "Punky, what the hell do you think y-" I cut him off, irritably tapping my taped wrist with two fingertips, showing off my Steve Austin-brand invisible watch. "We're here to kick the *BEEP* out of her, Reddy, not squeeze the last bit of *BEEP*ing toothpaste out of her," I growl as I take Lisa's dangling wrist and pull her out of Red's arms as he reluctantly unlatches his bearhug. Lisa almost sags into me like a drinking buddy, still a bit breathless and dizzy from the abuse, and I grin like a Cheshire cat.
LvK: Is the Countdown honestly disagreeing about not beating up a helpless Lisa Starr quickly enough?
RP: Time is money, van Keel.
LvK: Disgusting. And now Punky with a HARSH Irish whip, sending Lisa Starr VICIOUSLY against those buckles! Good lord, that girl puts so much brutality into everything she does.
RP: Makes you wonder what she's like in the sack.
LvK: ... it'd be like bedding a wolverine, Rick.
RP: I could get down with that.
LvK: I'm going to see if the commissioner will reconsider that petition to have you chemically castrated.
RP: No mere drugs can restrain MY - oh, *BEEP*, INCOMING!
I pelt across the ring and THROW my weight behind a high, brutal kick with my leg locked straight as a lance.
*KRACK!*
Lisa's jaw snaps to the side, blue hair whipping forward to hang over her face, and I let my leg hang over the top rope, casually leaning my elbow on the rope as I let Starr topple to the canvas beside me after my Monster Queen yakuza kick sends her bicuspids into the cheap seats. I smirk at the roaring, raging fans, some of whom are clutching their heads adorably in despair as Lisa topples deadweight to the canvas. I offer them a little bit of song to cheer them up as I draw my foot back down to the canvas, waving one an invisible conductor's baton in one hand.
"♫Turn out the liiiiights - the party's OVER ...♫" I sing sweetly as I drop down and lovingly vine my legs around Lisa's near leg, hooking her far leg up high and resting my forearm across her pert lil' breasts as the ref drops and counts the ONE ...
The TWO ...
And the little bratwurst fish-tails hard enough to break my grip!
LvK: SHE'S STILL IN IT!
RP: C'mon, Punky, GET YOUR FOREARM IN HER FRIGGIN' THROAT! DIDN'T YOU LEARN FROM REGAL!?
LvK: Your journalistic ethics of non-biased observation are a shining bastion for the world, Rick.
RP: Gimme a *BEEP*ing break, Pollyanna. The only way you could be more in Starr's corner is if you were over there in a spangled dress.
I glower at Lisa as I bend down to haul her up by that blue mop - her scalp must be hurting like a fourth-grader with lice by now - and snarl in her face. "Yer gonna WISH you'd just smartened the *BEEP* up and STAYED THE *BEEP* DOWN." She tries to put together some sort of wise-ass response through the haze of dizzy pain she's in, and I shake my head and twist her around, snaking my right arm under hers to hoist her gloved hand into the air like she's gaily waving to a friend, starting to cinch in a half-Nelson for my Jack and Coke suplex, but the little sport pepper starts driving elbows back into my belly, puffing air past my glossy black lips until I'm eventually forced to unlace my arms and stagger back with a huff.
Starr whips around with a little war cry and slams a forearm across my jaw, and the crowd roars in delight as I'm sent back with another one, the little straight edger jumping off the mat to drive the blows in. I stumble back and manage to put the brakes on before I hit the ropes, windmilling my arms a bit and shaking my head to clear the flashes out of my eyes. Unfortunately for the lil' rock Starr, I get hit in the face a lot and I can clear the cobwebs out like a fucking Swiffer. She's already on the move, moving quicker than I'd have wanted after the beating we've laid on her. She vaults to the apron, showing a bit of pain on the landing, and grits her teeth, leaping up to the top rope and balancing beautifully, ready to springboard.
The fans are on their feet, ready for the Stage Dive or another high-flyin' acrobatic move.
I put those fat fucks back in their seats when I lunge forward and LEAP, lithely rising off the mat and SLAMMING my right arm up, the fingers curled against my palm and driving the heel of it under her jaw with a tiger uppercut, a palm thrust to the chin that LAUNCHES Lisa off the top and sends her hurtling back to the floor with a brutal *THWACK!* that echoes through the arena right before there's the thud of her little rocker body hitting the mats down below.
I lean on the top rope, my arms dangling down as I grin down at her crumpled form, eyes shining with mad delight.
LvK: Oh, THAT'S ENOUGH! COME ON! FOR THE LOVE OF SAINT SEBASTIAN, STOP THIS!
RP: Aw, what's the matter, van Keel? Don't you know that the downfall is an important part of the hero's journey?
LvK: JOSEPH CAMPBELL DIDN'T HAVE TO DEAL WITH THE COUNTDOWN!
Quote from: ThePurpleVixen on October 04, 2014, 11:37:24 PM
It takes an effort to wrench my attention off scanning the crowd for Rowan, but being love-tapped by that little Smurf Lisa Starr managed to do the job. She has my FULL attention after that, which I'm sure she regrets after I crunch her with a knee through the ropes and then snap her neck off the cables to send her right pretty little face into Red's size 12 Stagecoach boot. Red scrapes Starr off the mat and I smirk a little as he pumphandle slams her into the canvas, giving a desultory middle finger to the ref when Starr kicks out at 2.
I mean, Red has this under control.
I really should keep my mind on the match.
But there's no sign of Lindsay still and Red's got Starr in hand and ...
... I fuckin' KNOW someone is WATCHING me. I feel like god-damn Rockwell!
I whip around to the crowd again. Some wiseass in the front row tries to get cute so I jaw with him a little bit about his IQ, theoretical genital size, and income bracket that eventually has him subside into bitter silence. The crowd continues to pester me with boos that only raise in volume as I tastefully flip them off with a double bird. I stalk back and forth along the apron like a lioness in the zoo at feeding time, with just as many gaping idiots gawking at me. My eyes flicker over the crowd, looking for that LOOK Row- Aika has. Because she won't be out here without her mask. No.
There's more noise in the ring, but no sound of counted pinfalls. I growl in my throat.
"The *BEEP* is TAKIN' so long, Red?"
I finally whip back around, my purple punkytails whirling with me, and my eyes narrow as I see The Red Enforcer fucking SNUGGLING Lisa in a bearhug. Like we have all the time in the god-damn world to go through his repertoire of the Greatest Holds of the 1980s. Lisa's starting to sag on his shoulder but she's clearly not going to go lights out right away. She might be an annoying smug little bitch who bites my style like Vanilla Ice bit Queen, but she's tough as a cheap Chicago steak. I roll my eyes and get my boot on the bottom rope, pushing up and leaning way over to SMACK the Enforcer's beefy shoulder with a blind tag since he has his back to me.
The referee indicates the tag and I bound over the top rope, vaulting and hammering my Docs to the mat with a thud. Red slowly gives me one of his Angry Southern Stares™ and starts to lay into me. "Punky, what the hell do you think y-" I cut him off, irritably tapping my taped wrist with two fingertips, showing off my Steve Austin-brand invisible watch. "We're here to kick the *BEEP* out of her, Reddy, not squeeze the last bit of *BEEP*ing toothpaste out of her," I growl as I take Lisa's dangling wrist and pull her out of Red's arms as he reluctantly unlatches his bearhug. Lisa almost sags into me like a drinking buddy, still a bit breathless and dizzy from the abuse, and I grin like a Cheshire cat.
LvK: Is the Countdown honestly disagreeing about not beating up a helpless Lisa Starr quickly enough?
RP: Time is money, van Keel.
LvK: Disgusting. And now Punky with a HARSH Irish whip, sending Lisa Starr VICIOUSLY against those buckles! Good lord, that girl puts so much brutality into everything she does.
RP: Makes you wonder what she's like in the sack.
LvK: ... it'd be like bedding a wolverine, Rick.
RP: I could get down with that.
LvK: I'm going to see if the commissioner will reconsider that petition to have you chemically castrated.
RP: No mere drugs can restrain MY - oh, *BEEP*, INCOMING!
I pelt across the ring and THROW my weight behind a high, brutal kick with my leg locked straight as a lance.
*KRACK!*
Lisa's jaw snaps to the side, blue hair whipping forward to hang over her face, and I let my leg hang over the top rope, casually leaning my elbow on the rope as I let Starr topple to the canvas beside me after my Monster Queen yakuza kick sends her bicuspids into the cheap seats. I smirk at the roaring, raging fans, some of whom are clutching their heads adorably in despair as Lisa topples deadweight to the canvas. I offer them a little bit of song to cheer them up as I draw my foot back down to the canvas, waving one an invisible conductor's baton in one hand.
"♫Turn out the liiiiights - the party's OVER ...♫" I sing sweetly as I drop down and lovingly vine my legs around Lisa's near leg, hooking her far leg up high and resting my forearm across her pert lil' breasts as the ref drops and counts the ONE ...
The TWO ...
And the little bratwurst fish-tails hard enough to break my grip!
LvK: SHE'S STILL IN IT!
RP: C'mon, Punky, GET YOUR FOREARM IN HER FRIGGIN' THROAT! DIDN'T YOU LEARN FROM REGAL!?
LvK: Your journalistic ethics of non-biased observation are a shining bastion for the world, Rick.
RP: Gimme a *BEEP*ing break, Pollyanna. The only way you could be more in Starr's corner is if you were over there in a spangled dress.
I glower at Lisa as I bend down to haul her up by that blue mop - her scalp must be hurting like a fourth-grader with lice by now - and snarl in her face. "Yer gonna WISH you'd just smartened the *BEEP* up and STAYED THE *BEEP* DOWN." She tries to put together some sort of wise-ass response through the haze of dizzy pain she's in, and I shake my head and twist her around, snaking my right arm under hers to hoist her gloved hand into the air like she's gaily waving to a friend, starting to cinch in a half-Nelson for my Jack and Coke suplex, but the little sport pepper starts driving elbows back into my belly, puffing air past my glossy black lips until I'm eventually forced to unlace my arms and stagger back with a huff.
Starr whips around with a little war cry and slams a forearm across my jaw, and the crowd roars in delight as I'm sent back with another one, the little straight edger jumping off the mat to drive the blows in. I stumble back and manage to put the brakes on before I hit the ropes, windmilling my arms a bit and shaking my head to clear the flashes out of my eyes. Unfortunately for the lil' rock Starr, I get hit in the face a lot and I can clear the cobwebs out like a fucking Swiffer. She's already on the move, moving quicker than I'd have wanted after the beating we've laid on her. She vaults to the apron, showing a bit of pain on the landing, and grits her teeth, leaping up to the top rope and balancing beautifully, ready to springboard.
The fans are on their feet, ready for the Stage Dive or another high-flyin' acrobatic move.
I put those fat fucks back in their seats when I lunge forward and LEAP, lithely rising off the mat and SLAMMING my right arm up, the fingers curled against my palm and driving the heel of it under her jaw with a tiger uppercut, a palm thrust to the chin that LAUNCHES Lisa off the top and sends her hurtling back to the floor with a brutal *THWACK!* that echoes through the arena right before there's the thud of her little rocker body hitting the mats down below.
I lean on the top rope, my arms dangling down as I grin down at her crumpled form, eyes shining with mad delight.
LvK: Oh, THAT'S ENOUGH! COME ON! FOR THE LOVE OF SAINT SEBASTIAN, STOP THIS!
RP: Aw, what's the matter, van Keel? Don't you know that the downfall is an important part of the hero's journey?
LvK: JOSEPH CAMPBELL DIDN'T HAVE TO DEAL WITH THE COUNTDOWN!
Breaking the Vixen's string. That's all :D
"YYYYYAAH!" grunting out as I drive my forearm against Punky's jaw.
"YYYYAAAH!" as I drive the second one into her face to make the purple Punkytails wave.
The crowd roars in approval as she staggers back. Her arms windmilling. I take a moment to look at Red on the apron, he looks a little angry, but not at me. Good! So he won't get in my way. Still, for security reasons, I had the other way. Leaping over the top rope and out onto the apron. Landing with a soft bounce on my toes. The top rope stays in my hands as Punky staggers off the ropes.
I'm not feeling very well. Lindsay needs to come back...SOON! Either that or I finish things quick. Let's try option #2 here. With a grit of my teeth and a little groan I leap up, feet on the top rope, looking to launch myself right at the Purple Vixen! But instead...
BAM!
"UGH!"
My head snaps back violently after that vicious uppercut landed right on the bottom of my jaw. I lose balance almost immediately. My body topples backwards and with a little arch I come flying off the top rope and out of the ring. Eyes closed, arms, legs and hair flailing up, reaching for anything I can to try and hold myself up, but to no avail.
THUD!
"AAACK!"
My body bounces off the thin mats outside the ring. My body arches, coughing hard for the first few seconds before I roll to the side a bit and end up laying in a heap outside the ring. Curled up to a little ball as I lay on the cold mats.
This. Isn't. Good.
I lay there for a while. Not moving much. Actually not moving at all except for my heaving chest. It's a long way down from on top of that top rope to the outside of the ring, and I took the fall without anything to stop me or break my fall.
The ref's count has meanwhile reached 4. And he's not really counting very fast. Being interrupted again and again by Punky who keeps trying to slip out of the ring to go after me. Eventually though, the Purple Vixen finds a way out of the ring...by simply rolling out behind the ref's back while he's counting. Damn, that girl is clever!
Not long after her slipping out of the ring, she's standing over my curled up body and cruelly steps on my side. First with one, then with both of her heavy, waffle-soled boots. Her entire body weight resting on my ribs, one of her hands on the bottom rope for balance. She just grins up at the ref who stopped the count again and now instead starts yelling at her to step off of me.
I'm sent back into a coughing, groaning stupor after she gets off me. She did so by – not simply stepping off, of course – but by jumping off my body onto the apron. From there she climbed into the ring. Forcing the ref to break the count. Punky ignores him yelling at her and turns straight to Red. "Get down there and help me take her the *BEEP* out, would ya?!"
LvK: Someone's gotta stop this! This is hideous! Countdown are just looking to destroy Lisa here!
RP: There's no one to blame but Starr herself. You mess with the Countdown, you gotta face your punishment. Shoulda kept her big mouth shut, stayed home and watched the Cubs lose. But nooo, she's trying to be a special one! And now she's gonna do what all Chicagoans eventually do: Get her little ass handed to her! And I love it!
LvK: Eh..wow, Perle! Where did THAT come from?
RP: My mouth!
Between these two and the ring, Punky now takes my hair in her hands again. My scalp is on fire! Purple bitch seems to be jealous of my awesome MULTI-colored hair. Who can blame her? I for once wouldn't wanna look like a ripe eggplant. With me on my knees, she changes grip with one hand and gets a rough grip on my chin. Her taped fingers pressing into my cheeks, making me look all pouty as I slowly rise to my feet.
I may be hurting. I may be outnumbered. I may be out of breath. But there's one thing I'm not: Finished!! I wind up with my right and throw my fist into her abs. She grunts and bends over a bit. Her grip weakens a little. I fire in another shot. Another one! Another one! Her strong abs absorb the blows, but they're showing effect! I just gotta...
"AH!"
Letting out a short yelp as my hair is suddenly grabbed from behind and I'm roughly being yanked back. Red's come up behind me, watched me pound his partner again until he decided she had enough of it. A sharp, stinging pain in my neck from the rough jerk. Did I mention my burning scalp? Probably...my hair's been pulled a lot in this 'match' so far!
After the 'little' pull, my head gets shoved forward and RIGHT into a vicious European Uppercut by an angry Megan. Her angry roar echos through the auditorium while her bicep slams into my jaw and sends me rocking back. I stagger backwards, arms flailing a little. Windmilling to try and keep my balance. Until my backpedaling is stopped when I hit the steel ring post.
My back's against it, and with one nod of Punky's head, Red's behind me, grabbing my arms and pulling them back in a kinda Surfboard Stretch. My back is pinned tightly against the cold steel, arms wrenched back, and the evil, purple monster right in front of me.
"Ah...F....*BEEP*" gasping, I try to break free but can't get anywhere near breaking the grip. After trying for a few seconds my body just slumps back. I'm dizzy, stunned. All the high impacts I've suffered have taken a toll on me. And also having to fight these two all by myself! Whenever I think I get something going, then there's that other one. How am I supposed to beat these two all by myself? It can't be done. It simply can not be done!!
I have no idea where Lindsay is. And after seeing her lay all sprawled out, motionless and ass-up on top of the ramp earlier...I don't know if she's gonna make it! And if she doesn't make it then I might not make it out of this match on my own two feet.
Punky keeps stepping backwards, all the way to the far barricade that separates us from the crowd, She's gonna run. And from the look on her face I can see that it won't be pleasant for me. I try again to break Red's grip, but can barely move my arms. Instead he jerks back harder, making me moan in pain.
LvK: She's helpless! How can these two do this?
RP: Muscle and brains, Larry. That's all it takes to do this.
LvK: No, Perle! It takes disrespect! Towards your opponent, the rules, the fans, EVERYONE! These people came here to see a great match and now they see a mugging! This looks more like a gang fight than a wrestling match. Starr can't defend herself against these two top competitors. Especially not with them cheating every time Lisa seems to get some offense.
RP: This IS a wrestling match, van Keele! Didn't you hear the bell?
LvK: Ohhhhh no!
RP: How did you not hear that? It rang! Loud and clear!
LvK: No, you idi...Rich. The Purple Vixen! She's setting up for another Monster Queen Yakuza kick! She's going to crush Lisa Starr's skull!
RP: Put on your rain cape!
Megan nonchalantly throws me a little kiss - a kiss goodbye, kiss of death...whatever other kind of wrecking kisses there are – and then takes off. Her legs carrying her towards me. My head drops a little, closing my eyes tightly. Not wanting to see the boot come closer. Not wanting to know when my skull will be crushed between her boot and the ring post.
I'm just standing there. Held tightly. Hearing the boots pound the floor. And waiting for everything to end...
...
RP: Put on your rain cape!
The sound of pounding boots echoes across the silenced arena. They're just watching in shock as Megan is about to rock the world of the little Rock Starr. A move that's gonna put her lights out and maybe even more.
She's running, her eyes on the prize, her boot comes up and...
THUD
YAAAAAAAAAAYYYYY!!
LvK. What the...it's Lindsay!! The Dragon's back and JUST in time!
That's right! I'm back! And the boots Lisa heard weren't only Megan's. I came around the ring, ran around Red who's too busy holding Lisa's arms back. He never even noticed.
Oh and Megan? She was too busy trying to crack Lisa's skull like a walnut to see me. But eventually she noticed I've come around, when I put all the force and weight of my running 150lbs body into a Clothesline that does not only stop Punky dead in her tracks, but lets her do a neat little backflip out of mid-run.
Her tails whipping through the air as she grunts during the flight, and then lands with a thud, face down on the mats. I look down at her for a moment, then at Lisa who slumps down along the ring post as Red lets her go. He comes racing around the ring and right at me.
My eyes narrow as I turn to face him. He reaches out with these long arms and big hands as he runs towards me. I quickly duck underneath his charging attack. My shoulder thuds into his lower abs as I wrap my arms around the back of his legs, straighten up with a roar of effort to get him off his feet.
I quickly spin around, then drop forward on my right knee while pulling back on his legs and shoving my shoulder and head against his body, driving his body hard, back first into the mats with a spinning Spinebuster!
LvK: The Dragon saves the day! Wow!! Did you see that?! Two quick moves and the Countdown is down!
RP: I'm just wondering, WHAT'S THE REF DOING?! That nut is NOT the legal girl in this match and the ref HAS to get her back to her corner!
LvK: Are you serious? It's okay when the Countdown gangs up on the Dragon Starrs before the match and beat them to a pulp, but when Campbell helps out her partner against a 2 on 1 beatdown, that's...not ok?
RP: That's something completely different. That was BEFORE the bell! Now the match is officially underway. There's a match going on and Campbell just broke the rules! The ref should DQ them!
While Mr. van Keel practices some breathing exercises to keep himself from killing his broadcast partner, I get up to my feet and hurry over to my hurting partner, who's sitting there, leaned back against the ring-post. Her head comes up as I kneel in front of her, shaking her shoulders a little.
"You okay? Like....what have they done to you?!"
"Where the hell have you been so long?!"
"Well, I...I'm sorry, I just kinda...couldn't move and all."
As Lisa sighs and rolls her eyes a little I hear a groan from behind me, and it's the one with the purple hair who slowly rises to her hands and knees.
"Oh...uh oh..."
I gasp and turn to Lisa, quickly helping her up on her feet.
"Come on, come on! Up up up!!"
"Ow...CAREFUL!"
She hisses at me as I get her up to her feet, facing the apron. Reaching between her legs from behind to hoist her up and help her crawl into the ring. I look back at the rising Punky again, then into the ring at Lisa. Knowing our corner is the one far far away I need to get Lisa further in. I mean, that girl could barely stand on her own! So I reach into the ring, hands on her tightly covered tush and give her a push..another one! I don't think she likes it as I hear - let's say - complaints every time I touch her tush and give her a little push.
After my second one, I hear some of the fans yell at me to "WATCH OUT!!" I turn quickly and coming right at me is Punky!! Damn it, that girl just won't stay down for long! She swings her forearm to the side of my head, but I've taken a few too many of those tonight already. This time I duck, letting her spin around with the momentum of her failed blow.
And as she turns to face me again, I reach under her left shoulder, and for the right side of her neck. My eyes locked on hers for a moment "That wasn't very nice!" before using my grip on her to lift her up a bit and shove her back, slamming her back first into the apron. The Purple Vixen arches her back after the impact, howling out in pain like maybe the prettiest, but also most dangerous, Coyote I've ever seen!
The ref looks down at me and I look up at him. Putting a bit of a smile across my lips. I'm far from fresh after that attack, but hey...I can still smile so all's good! I nod at him "Uh huh! I know! Megan in the ring, me to my corner. Done and done!" I say in a kinda sing-sang voice before roughly grabbing Punky by the back of her little microskirt and one of her purple punkytails. I step back, swing her around me once before roughly shoving and rolling her into the ring under the bottom rope.
RP: What is she...WHY did she roll her back into the ring?! Seriously, this girl is as stupid as she's tall!
LvK: The match takes place in the ring! Lindsay knows that, Lindsay respects that rule! The crowd came to see a clean wrestling match! And with Punky and Starr in the ring, this might FINALLY become a clean, fair wrestling match!
RP: Oh really? With the Countdown involved? You're just as delusional as that nutty Dragon!
I've run around the ring and hopped up to the apron. Standing in our corner, I look around the turnbuckles for the tag rope until I finally find it and get it in my left hand. Pushing up on my tip toes and leaning into the ring. Reeeeeaaaching out with my free right hand. Stretching my body out as far as I can. "Come on, Lisa! Come oooooooon!" hopping on my toes a bit as I'm getting all excited. Seeing Lisa crawl towards me...but sooooo very slowly. "Hurry hury! Come on! Quick quick quick!"
Damn, that was a pretty nasty spinebuster. I didn't think Gracie had it in her. I know I should come up with a more current nickname for the Dragon, but Gracie Allen is the first thing that popped in my head. Why am I thinking about old comedy acts? Oh yeah, I'm pretty dazed and confused here. Let's just head back to my corner and up on the apron.
*BEEP* Lisa's moving to her corner. I reach out as I see Punky heading to towards me and my back lets me know it doesn't like bending this was so soon after the spinebuster.
LvK: It looks like this may be Lisa's best shot of getting the tag!
RP: Wrong again! Punky's fresher and closer! The Enforcer is in and he catches Lisa by the ankle just before she can make the tag!
LvK: And look at Lindsay, she's upset she missed her chance.
RP: She shouldn't have tossed Punky in so close to her own corner. Lindsay's got only herself to blame. Although, damn, does she look hot with that pouty look on her face.
LvK: Will you stop!?!
After dragging Lisa from the tag, I drop a quick strike elbow to her lower back. Time to end this. I think my shoulder's good enough for my finisher, but I want one more bit of punishment for the pixie. I get to my feet and haul her up to hers.
LvK: The Enforcer's got her up and scoops her in his arms and backs into the neutral corner.
RP: Looks like it's time for a little Oklahoma Stampede!
LvK: He rushes out of the corner, gets to the center and jumps up, twisting and *WHAM* he drives poor Lisa Starr into the mat with an incredible running powerslam.
RP: I think he's ready to finish her off now...
I haul Lisa back up to her feet. I'd feel sorry for her a little if Gemma hadn't told me to bring the pain to her. I'm not sure what their history is, but she wanted me to make sure I pounded Lisa into a pulp if I had the chance. I slip in behind her and look over at her partner. Lindsay's looking in all kinds of distress. I can't miss the opportunity to dig in the knife so I blow her a little kiss before slipping my arms up under Lisa's. My fingers interlace and I start flexing. I pull down on her neck with my hands and squeeze with my biceps into her, locking in a fierce full nelson. I lift the petite little girl up and get ready to swing her about. I turn towards Punky to make sure she's ok and not off in the Land of Obsession and I see her pointing behind me. What?
*BAMMMMMMMMM*
I see her coming like a Mack truck, and while I'm trying every bit of sign language I know for "TURN AROUND YOU IDIOT", Red's just staring blankly at me like a gorilla watching an aerobics class.
I wince a little as Lindsay Campbell crashes into the side of Red's head with a double axehandle that drops the big guy like a felled tree, his fingers unlinking from the Red Reign swinging nelson and letting lil' Lisa Starr collapse to the mat, a Bughouse Square puppet with no strings. We've put that bratwurst through the wringer and she's still trying to fight to her feet. Bitch has the same Energizer batteries that I do.
I roll my shoulders and crick my neck, growling in my throat as I lock eyes for a second with the Dragon in her stupid headband. That big gawky hooker made a ragdoll out of me out on the floor, just when I was getting ready to turn Starr's thick skull into a rich gooey paste. My neck, back and collarbone all have complaints to register, but I've got no time to listen to their whining. Red's pushing himself up off the mat, clearing the flashes out of his eyes from Campbell ringing his bell, but Starr's almost on her feet. How is that bitch already on her feet?!
Screw this.
RP: Are you gonna tell me THAT'S playing fair, van Keel?
LvK: There's an old saying, Rick - turnabout is fair play!
RP: There's an even OLDER saying - YOU'RE FULL OF IT. The Dragon just friggin' entered the ring illegally and WAILED on the Red Enforcer. BLATANTLY. And that's fair play?
LvK: Look, Rick - the Countdown has been playing by their own damn rules since BEFORE this match began, and Lindsay Campbell has clearly had enough.
RP: And I'VE had enough of these prancing blondes and their do-gooder friends claiming the moral high ground when they're just as dirty as everyone else.
LvK: ... you live in a dark, corrupt world, Perle.
RP: It's my world, baby. EVERYONE is livin' in it.
I vault over the top rope, Docs slamming to the canvas as the referee struggles to wrangle the big gangly furious tangle of Lindsay Campbell back into her corner. Lisa's just regaining her feet, her hand cradling the back of her neck and her blue-blonde tangle of hair half-hanging in her face. Looking like she's become fun enough to get drunk, she staggers towards her corner, her hand outstretched ...
... of course, I hate being ignored. And since the referee has his hands full with Campbell ...
*FWUMP!*
LvK: OH, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD! COME ON!
RP: There's an old saying, van Keel - turnabout something something and then you get kicked in the goodies.
Lisa goes to her tippy toes as I withdraw the steel rounded tip of my Doc from between her skinny thighs, and she collapses slowly to her knees as the crowd groans in sympathy, her mouth a round O of silent agonized dismay.
Red blinks behind his mask as he staggers up to one knee, and starts to get to his feet. "Punky, what the f-" he begins for the second time this match, and I drag him up and lightly push him into our corner before I sharply CLAP my hands overhead. That sounds like a nice clean tag, and I make sure to step up smartly behind Lisa and drive the heel of my boot into the base of her skull. That drops her facedown on the mat and hides any evidence of wrongdoing. At least enough to fool a zebra, anyway.
If they hired smart, attentive referees, we'd be in Japan.
The ref manages to corral the roaring Dragon to the apron - she might have caught a glimpse of me giving her lil' partner a spicy boot in the taco, and it didn't seem to have done wonders for her temperament - and finally turns around. He sees me dragging Lisa up to her feet and sees Red glaring at me while he steps between the ropes and takes a firm, furious grasp of the tag rope, and puts 1 and 1 together to make 3. "Legal tag!" he says, and I can't help but laugh a little as I get a firm grip on Lisa's shoulders and piston my knee up into her guts.
LvK: I ... she ... wh- ... LEGAL TAG?!
RP: What the referee didn't see ... is like ninety percent of the fun of wrestling.
Lisa folds up like origami and I drag her back towards my corner. With my back to the buckles, I snuggle her chin down on my left shoulder and force her right hand between her legs, cinching her wrist with my right as I loop my left arm over her shoulders. "Let me show you how you actually throw a *BEEP*ing suplex, sweetheart," I purr in her ear, drawing a dazed growl in response before I flex my legs low and SNAP up, throwing her over my head, carrying her over by the wrist cinch and her shoulder to send her CRASHING into the buckles behind me, and I sit up with a satisfied Cheshire cat grin as she crumples to the mat like a crumpled Cubs program.
The Master Exploder. Takes out even the most tenacious of rivals.
RP: I friggin' love when she does the Master Exploder.
LvK: Really, Rick? What is it you like best? The way she hammers them into unforgiving steel buckles? The way she sets it up so they fall on their head and neck? The sick, twisted grin she has after she hits it?
RP: You're right, van Keel - it's all too perfect to pick any one part of it as a favorite. It's like trying to pick your favorite part of a hot fudge sundae. Except it's made of pain instead of ice cream.
LvK: ... I should've taken that job announcing lady's varsity games at St. Martin's.
Lisa's deadweight. "Pin her already an' stop showin' off," Red drawls, still sounding like he's got some Dixie fury in his voice, probably a bit torqued about being blind-tagged. Twice. I wave him off and gather up the scraps of the little Starr, and I make a special point to give an obnoxiously cheery thumbs-up to Lindsay Campbell in her corner, making her pound the top buckle in frustration. I let Lisa lean into me like we're waltzing and I place a warm teasing kiss on her soft cheek with my poisonous black lips before I slowly cinch her hand up between her thighs again and cuddle her jaw against my shoulder, bending low and TOSSING her over again in another Master Exploder, crumpling her up into the turnbuckles again with a sweet sound like a deer bouncing off a truck grille.
I can see Larry van Keel at the ringside announce table pounding the tabletop with his fist like a preacher raining down fire and brimstone, and Rick Perle grinning at me with his capped white teeth. I grin back. For a moment I think I see something in the crowd, just behind the anounce table ... but I shake my punkytails back over my shoulder, and it's gone.
Just a shadow.
I turn my attention back to Lisa's twisted wreckage, and my grin lights back up like a pachinko machine. I wrap my taped fist around Starr's left All-Star and drag her by the heel towards mid-ring like a fresh kill.
If the Dragon gets all angry again, she's sure to have the ref's attention once more, and then Reddy and I'll get another chance to play rough with our new favorite toy.
I lay Lisa in mid-ring in a little spread-eagle with her splayed sneakers towards her corner, and then slither over her, snaking sensually across her little body with my dark eyes locked in Lindsay's furious ones as I lovingly straddle her little buddy's pert tits, taking an arrogant seat on her chest.
"Count it," I purr to the referee, resting my hands on Lisa's belly and curling my legs back, pushing the PG-rating for the show just as fucking far as I can without grinding Starr's face into my tights.
Sure enough, the ref doesn't even get to finish counting one before Campbell is over the ropes, coming pelting at me, and I do a simple aikido back-roll off of the little straight-edger, avoiding Lindsay's furious swing, and I giggle a little as the referee wraps around her waist and starts to drag the furious Ohioan back to her corner.
Now for some more fun.
My coach always told me ,,Resiliency is as much of a curse as it is a gift." Something I never quite understood. Until I came to FTW! Sure, when you can take a lot before staying down it frustrates your opponent. You get more chances to come back into the match, and when facing someone who lacks stamina? Perfect!
On the other hand, there's the curse! They will just keep pounding you until your tanks are empty. And that's what's happening here and now. I've been double teamed, kicked, stomped, choked, thrown, kicked some more, thrown some more...
That last sequence has me down and out. The low blow, kick to the back of my head, followed by these 2 Master Exploders?!!? I'm just a ragdoll for the Princess of the Darkness right now. And I'm pretty sure that black lipstick has some sort of poison in it. I felt something...my body reacted to that kiss of death. No idea what that was, though...
Anyways, I'm laying in a broken-down and motionless heap in Countdown's corner, until my limp carcass is dragged to the middle of the ring in a way a barbarian would drag a killed deer around! As she lets go, the leg simply drops and bounces once. Ending up spread-eagled in the middle of the ring. Head lolled to the side, eyes closed. My only movement is my heaving chest as I try to catch my breath, but that isn't seen for long as Punky decides to take a seat on my chest.
The producers won't like it very much. Especially not when they hear that sexy little purr towards the ref, or look at the sensual way she slithered across me there (I'm sure they'll watch it again and again, though. Just to really figure out how much they don't like it, of course)
Now...I know Lindsay is a smart girl, but here? She ran right into the Purple Devil's little trap. My partner enters the ring, charging in, only to be intercepted by the ref. At that moment, I actually DO get a bit of Punky's tights into my face as she does that back-roll off of me and rolls right over my face. I throw my head to the other side and my arms up, wanting to push at something that isn't even there anymore after that quick, fluid roll.
"Fffffffffffffff" exhaling deeply before taking in as much air as I can get. Hearing Lindsay argue with the ref in her cute little way, then throws some *BEEP*ed out curse words at Punky before going back to all cute and trying to reasonably argue with the ref. Trying to convince him that all she wants to do in the ring is slam Megan through it! For some reason, the ref won't allow that. But she's...a little stubborn right now.
"Ohhhhh sh*BEEP*" I'm torn out of listening to the ref and the Dragon by a hand that gets a rough grip on my hair. NOT AGAIN, DAMN IT! I grimace and roll to my hands and knees. My hands move up her legs, to her knees, weakly pawing at them like a dog wanting attention. Only I'm trying to use her legs and hips to climb to my feet. Punky lets out an evil little laugh before cupping my chin, forcing me to straighten up on my knees and to look into her eyes.
"When ya gonna learn, Starr?!" she growls, then brushes some of my hair out of my face. "When ya gonna SMARTEN THE *BEEP* UP and just STAY THE *BEEP* DOWN, and stop your *BEEP*ing pointless fighting?" She bends down in front of me as my hands stop pawing at her thighs. Her face in front of mine, the ref still busy with Lindsay, but he gets her back closer and closer to the corner.
"Stop fighting?" Groaning at Punky "...once you're finished!" I hiss and then? It's time for payback! Along with my last word, I THROW my right arm up as hard I can between the Purple Vixen's legs. My arm tensed, and I slam my bicep up brutally with a low-blow! It may not be as hard as a kick with a freakin steel toed boot, but it'll do the job!
RP: Are you kidding me?!
LvK: What? Punky has done the EXACT same thing to Lisa and that was ok. Now what's your problem with Starr giving Dow a dose of her own medicine?
RP: She...stole that move!
No, I didn't! I merely modified it. Punky grunts out in pain and bends over, her hands going between her legs. All of a sudden, Lindsay's in a hurry to get out of the ring, giving the ref a little shove before she climbs out and grabs the tag rope. Looking on in anticipation as I use all I got left to spring up to my feet before the ref sees Megan's hands between her own legs. We don't wanna get him to think...anything at all. Might make his head hurt.
So I move quickly. Up on my feet in front of Megan, my right arm goes around her left thigh, hooking that leg up a bit as my left arm slides over her right shoulder and I duck my head under her left arm. The ref turns as I set it up, quickly stepping to the side. He knows what's coming and he wouldn't wanna have that Purple Nightmare slam into him. I whisper into her ear "Let me show YOU how you actually throw a *BEEP*ing suplex, sweetheart" I hop up a little with both legs, bending my knees a bit and when they hit the mat again, I arch my back, snap my hips forward, lift Punky off her feet and throw her back over my head.
LvK: STARR HITS THE STRAIGHT EDGE!! From out of nowhere! Where does that girl take her energy from?!
RP: Oh I dunno, maybe from low-blowing poor, helpless girls?
LvK: P...poor and helpless? You're not talking about Megan, are you?
RP: Well...*thinks*...OF COURSE! Obviously! I mean...
Punky bounces off the canvas above me and arches her back. I can hear her moans quite clearly as we're only laying a few feet from each other in the middle of the ring. If we were a little further apart, I couldn't hear a thing over the explosive loud cheers from the crowd. Another thing I can hear is Red cursing and yelling at Megan to "GET UP!" while on the opposite side of the ring Lindsay hammers the top turnbuckle with her free hand. "COME ON, LISA!! HURRY HURRY!"
"Wait...just a moment, Sunny" I mutter under my breath as I roll over to my belly and crawl towards my corner. And, just a little off the road there is a Purple Vixen arching in pain. No way..."Sorry, Linds" I groan and crawl to Punky instead, just getting my right arm across her chest before I collapse.
The ref drops, checks the shoulders "ONE, T...TWO" and she kicks out. Didn't even have to try hard as the only part of me that pinned her down was my arm across her chest. So she just had to roll her shoulder off the canvas.
RP: There ya go! It's her own damn fault she's getting beat up so much! She could've easily made the tag by now!
Oh shut up, Perle! I'm on my way!! As the ref still raises his 2 fingers in the air I keep crawling towards my corner. Getting closer and closer. I extend my arm, just a few inches away when suddenly "Huh?!" Gasping in shock and as I turn around, Punky's got my left foot in her hands! And she doesn't look too happy about that Suplex. I'm dragged back to the middle of the ring as she gets up to her feet, forcing me up with her.
We're both standing now. Well, she's standing while I'm hopping around on my free right foot. She grits her teeth, hissing at me "I'm gonna rip your *BEEP*ing head off, s-" and that's where she's forced to shut up! I LEAP up with my right foot. Laying myself out in mid-air, twisting my body to the left and throwing my leg around.
WHACK!
The thud echoes through the auditorium as I slam the top of my foot across the side of her head with an Enzuigiri that breaks her grip on my left foot and takes her down on her side. I land on my hands and knees, looking back over my shoulder to see her down, a little grin across my lips. "Looks like I got to kick yours off, first!" Then looking into their corner, seeing Red shaking his head in disbelief. Then I turn my head, seeing my lil Sunny girl leaning into the ring over the top rope as far as her tall frame allows. Time to let her loose!
Planting the toes of my sneakerboots into the canvas, pushing off of them and lunging in towards my corner. My right arm extended as I leap through the air towards my partner...
SMACK!
"TAG!" The ref yells out and a huge cheer comes from the crowd as I'm finally, officially a part of this match now. I quickly climb into the ring, making sure not to step on my partner who's rolling out to the apron. I look at Red for a moment, who holds his hand out towards his partner for a tag. But she's way too far away from the ropes, and just starts to dizzily get back up to her feet after Lisa knocked her silly with that kick.
I'm not giving her the time to get too comfy on her feet, though. Running in towards the momentarily stunned purple-haired girl. Getting the timing just right, reaching her as she gets to her feet aaaaaaaand
BAM!
YAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!
Putting Megan back down to the canvas the very moment she got up on her feet. Leveling her with a big Clothesline. After that, Red illegally enters the and comes rushing at me. Looking pretty angry! Deciding I have to greet him accordingly. Turning my side towards him, one arm goes between his legs, wrapping around one of his thighs, the other arm goes up across the back of his neck. Using his momentum to help lifting him up on my shoulders for a split second. Not wanting to waste any of that momentum so I drop back quickly and level him with a quick Samoan Drop!
YAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!
The crowd's going crazy as I floor our opponents in quick succession! I get back up to my feet, looking around to find out where my opponents are. I kinda lost track of them with all the tossing and slamming. "Ohhhh NO!" My eyes grow as I see Punky's already on her feet again! Why does she always have to get up? She's just like Lisa in our sparring sessions! But...OK! If she likes...
But again I'm looking to meet her before she can do anything real dangerous. So I charge in on her rising form and throw my right leg up. Planting the sole of my boot right across her face. Her upper body snaps back, her legs taken out from under her from the big impact. She goes down hard, her upper back and the back of her head smacking down into the canvas. Taking the Purple Vixen down hard with a Big Boot.
YAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!
I turn again, seeing Red pull himself up to his feet with the help of the ropes. I narrow my eyes, growling a little "Grrrrrrrrrrrrr just why won't anyone stay down here?!" Stomping the canvas in frustration before rushing across the ring. My right arm extended aaaaaand it smacks hard across Red's chest as he stands with his back against the ropes. He's arched back over the top rope as I lean forward over it. And I get him back far enough to make him flip back and out of the ring, landing with a thud.
YAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!
LvK: The Dragon's in and she's cleaning house! Wow! That girl is on fire and just like that, Countdown's in trouble!
RP: You know as well as I do that when you're in Countdown, there is no such thing as trouble! They'll find a way out, and they'll work that long-legged nut just like they did with her pale little friend.
I lean over the top rope, looking down at Red laying on the thinly padded floor outside the ring. My arms dangling over the top rope as I take a moment to catch my breath. A little smile across my lips. But I guess relax time is over as I hear Lisa from our corner.
"LINDS! Arm, ARM!"
I turn, looking at her a little puzzled as she just starts pulling herself to her feet "Huh?"
"Ah...*BEEP* that was the other one..." she thinks for a moment, then points at Punky "GO GET HER!"
"Oh! Sure, yeah! Sorry!" I nod and push off the ropes towards her. I bend over and reach under her shoulders to help her up to her feet, when again I hear Lisa barking commands at me.
"NO! NOT THAT GOODY TWO SHOES SH*BEEP*! POUND HER!"
"Okay, okay!" I grumble back as I release Punky's arms and let her drop to her hands and knees again. Stepping to her left side, raising my arms to lock my hands above my head before dropping down to my knees. Just DRIVING my locked hands down into her spine with a Double Axe Handle.
She drops down flat on the canvas, arching her back and moaning out in pain after the impact.
"Stay on her, Linds! Remember the ramp!!"
"Oh...right!" I hold my right hand out towards the ref, raising my head and giving him a quick smile "I know, I know. Five count! I'm sorry!" Even pouting at him a little as my left hand grabs for one of Punky's Purple PunkytailsTM.
"Now...about earlier, Megan!" I lift her head up off the canvas and THROW my right arm down. Slamming my forearm across the side of her head. Once, twice, three times before the ref's count reaches 3. Paying her back for how she hammered my head back on the ramp.
RP: Really? I mean, REALLY? Come on! Stealing Dow's moves AGAIN?
LvK: It's called payback, Rick! They're giving her a taste of her own medicine. And if you ask me, it's long overdue someone shows this purple demon what it's like to be pounded like that.
RP: Good thing no one asks you. But...pounding her? I wouldn't mind showing her what it's like to be poun-
LvK: Focus on the match!
After I finished slamming my forearm across Punky's head I get up to my feet, smiling and nodding at the ref, also patting him on his shoulder. "I know! I know, no hair and all that! Sorry, won't happen again!" Tilting my head to the side for a moment as I smile at him, before turning my attention back to the downed Megan. Grabbing for her wrists to yank her up off the canvas and into me.
Pulling that strong body against mine, my right arm wraps around her body under her arm, the left one goes over her right shoulder. Clamping my hands on her upper back. "And now, let ME show you how you actually throw a suplex!" I whisper, then giggle a little before dipping my knees. Then with a little grunt of effort I straighten up and pull up with my arms that tighten around her to get a good grip. Lifting her up off her feet, I'm going on my tip toes before twisting to my left. Turning around 180° along with a little jump to gain some height before I drop down. Slamming the Purple Vixen into the canvas with a little Belly-to-Belly Suplex. I'm thinking...maybe my body slamming into hers right after the impact helps knocking some wind out of her lungs as well. It probably does!
I get up on my knees, but before I can even get to my feet...
"Hey, Chipmunk! I think the red guy asked you to lace his boots again. Go, take a look!"
I look back over my shoulder, seeing Lindsay pointing out at Red. And after a short argument, she makes her point quite clear that she DEMANDS the ref to check on Red. I throw a questioning "Huh?" her way, but instead of saying anything, she just motions at me to get Punky up. "Ohhhhhhh!" I look at her, then at the ref, wanting to say something about how "That's cheating!" but I swallow it down, grab two handfuls of Punkytails and get our Purple Ragdoll back up on her feet.
I quickly wrap my arms around her thighs and bend over a bit before straightening up with a soft little grunt. Holding her up like I'm about to give her a Spinebuster, but instead...I just wait. Behind me, Lisa leaps up onto the top rope and Springboards off of them. I look up and see her come, legs first, flying over my left shoulder. I'm waiting for the right moment in which she gets her arms wrapped around Punky's chin from behind and then kneel down and slam her hard into the canvas with that Spinebuster, while Lisa adds a big bit to the impact with a Springboard Neckbreaker.
RP: And these are your heroes, huh? That Starr is as dirty as all of Countdown together! I actually...start to like her!
LvK: Ohhh, don't say that!! Don't say you're starting to like her! That's a bad, bad thing, Perle!
The crowd doesn't really care who likes who right now. All they know is that there's this sexy, purple haired girl - who has caused all sorts of pain and dished out all kinda of punishment in and outside the ring over the years – arching her back, moaning out and having her face twisted and contorted in pain. And they love it!! They're on their feet and cheering loudly. I kneel in front of the downed Punky and adjust my headband as Lisa quickly rolls out of the ring and back to our corner.
The ref turns around, after finding out that Red didn't really want anything from him, and faces me. I just give him a little smile and shrug my shoulders. And then...my partner again "Stop flirting and put her away!!"
"Ts!" I roll my eyes and look back at her over my shoulder "Would you calm down, please?! We got this, OK?!"
"We got this when it's over, Sunny!"
"Fine!" Letting out a little sigh. I'm usually all about having fun in the ring, but tonight, this match? Lisa seems to take this super serious! I can't blame her, I guess. She just really really doesn't like the Countdown! So I decide to slide over the canvas to Punky's side, laying across her chest, hooking up her far leg for the pin.
ONE, TWO...TWO!
She kicks out hard, twisting her shoulder off the mat.
Kneeling next to her, I look back at Lisa, up at the ref, then down at Megan. "Huh...ehm...okay, then!" I say and nod before getting to my feet. Brushing my hair out of my face and adjusting my headband, wristbands, shorts. Why am I doing that? Because I need Punky on her feet for what I got planned. Why don't I get her up myself? Because that wouldn't work. Stop asking those questions, just wait and see!!
I shift lightly on my feet as Megan starts to work her way up. Wanting to stay behind her, out of her sight as she rises. And once she's halfway up, I sprint. Running across the ring towards her right side. I turn and hit the ropes back first, the ropes are trembling, boards bouncing as I run back across the ring at high speed. She's got perfect timing, really! Staggering up to her feet and right into my lane as I reach her! I lean forward a bit, right shoulder turned out, arm pinned tightly against my side, hands locked in front of my abs and...
BAAAAMMMMMM!!
All the force of my run. All the velocity, all the speed unloads against Megan's chest as I slam shoulder-first into her. Giving her a little flying lesson as I connect with my Buckeye Bodycheck! She takes a short flight before landing with a thud and in a heap, at the ropes. I lost balance upon impact as well and ended up stumbling, landing on my hands and knees as the crowd explodes again.
I see Megan landed so close to the ropes and quickly crawl towards her. As I'm on my way, I wave Lisa off with my right hand, knowing she's about to bark in commands at me again to go pin her or something like that. But I know what to do! Pin her!! After crawling into reach, I grab for her wrists and drag her back, away from the ropes towards the middle of the ring. She actually looks kinda cute! All peaceful and stuff...unfortunately that's such a rare sight!
As I got her far enough from the ropes I wrap my arms around her legs and roll over. My back presses against her chest as I fold her up tightly. "This is it! This has GOT to be it!" I mutter to myself.
The ref drops, he counts, Mr. van Keel counts, the crowd counts
ONE
...
TWO
RP: And Red breaks it up! Good job!
I'm rocked by Red's attack. I never saw it coming. He moved in quickly under the bottom rope, crawled the few feet before driving a Double-Axe Handle into my lower back. Pretty much at the same time he hit the blow, Megan rolled her shoulder off the canvas. So...that hit was kinda unnecessary! Well, THANK YOU very much!
Rolling off Punky and to my knees, my right hand on my lower back, right where I just took that hit from Red. Staring at him through narrowed eyes as the ref sends him out of the ring and back to his corner. "That. Wasn't. Nice!"
I can't believe how much of a rush Lindsay is in. I don't think I've seen this side of her. It must be some combination of Lisa's influence and her own anger at the beatdown earlier that has her on fire right now. I keep glaring at her as I follow the ref's instructions to get back in my corner. I'm not sure what's going on in her head right now, but we need to put this dragon down. Somehow, Punky's got to make it to my corner.
RP: What did that idiot just do?
LvK I can't believe it fans, Lindsay must really want some of the Enforcer....
RP: ....I've heard that about most of the roster.
LvK: Some payback on the Enforcer because she just tossed Punky into her own corner and is pretty much daring the Enforcer to tag in.
RP: How come all of the sexy blondes have elevators that don't always go to the top...
Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, I make the tag and slide in. The crowd is really electric now and fully behind their heroine. I put my hands together, interlace my fingers and crack my knuckles. Yeah, this is going to be good. Let's see how strong this girl is. I figure if I challenge her strength for strength and do some good solid wrestling, it'll draw her in.
LvK: And after all that action earlier, the Enforcer looks to slow the pace a bit.
RP: He's methodical and he knows that the best way to rob Lindsay of that adrenaline fueled strength is to rob her of her adrenaline.
LvK: But it looks like it may backfire as after a brief back and forth, Lindsay is shoving the Enforcer back to a neutral corner!
RP: What do they feed those girls in Ohio!?!
I can feel the turnbuckles on my back and I know this is a risk, but I have to know if Lindsay's good girl tendencies are fully out the window or just temporarily shelved. As she presses back on me, I lift my hands up, leaning back and signaling to the ref I want a clean break. Lindsay doesn't release right away and she looks a bit torn. But in the end she lets me up.
We reset and this time I drive her back into the opposite corner. One piece of the trap is set now for the next. I push her hard into the corner, but then she mimics my hands being up and I lift my hands off of her and....
RP & LvK (together in shock): A CLEAN BREAK!?!
The crowd seems as confused as everyone else. Is that a hint of a smile on Lindsay's face? Good. Now for the final part.
LvK: Collar and elbow tie up again and Lindsay is pushing back the Enforcer. Time for the break and...
RP: Ahh, the Greco Roman poke to the eye! Classic move!
LvK: The Enforcer jabbed at Lindsay's eye while the ref was watching him and now the Enforcer grabs her by her hair and spins her into the corner.
RP: Those are some sick chops he's laying into the Buckeye Bimbo. Maybe he'll knock some sense into her.
I watch as Lindsay's body spasms each time the flat of my palm strikes her upper chest. Yeah that's taking some sting out of her and since I slowed her down, I know she's hurting. I need to get her even more weakened and as the ref hits 4, I pull her out of the corner by her hair and drive my knee up into her belly. Her mouth making a nice O as the air rushes out of her lungs. Which gives me an idea. I come up behind her, still unaccustomed to matching up with a woman my height and press up against her. I slip my left arm along her neck, crook of my elbow against her chin and trap her head in my arm. My left hand grabs my right bicep as I press my right arm along the right side of her head. Once in place, I start squeezing my arms against her head and feeling her body resisting mine as I lock on the...
RP: CAUDLE CLUTCH! CAUDLE CLUTCH! CAUDLE CLUTCH! That dumb*BEEP* wanted to teach the Dragon Starrs that move and now the Enforcer has it locked in on Lindsay!
LvK: Yes fans, Johnny Caudle's own perfected version of the sleeper is being used by his worst enemy to take out young Lindsay Campbell.
She's fighting me and I love it. Her arms are thrashing about wildly, but I'm just swinging her head side to side in the opposite way to cancel out any momentum. The whole time, just grinding my muscles hard into the side of her neck and her chin and maybe slipping down over her throat once in a while. Finally her arms stop moving as wildly and I feel her hands palming at me, desperately trying to tug loose, but finding no release there. I feel her body slacken as we both slowly move down to the mat. I try and lean so the pressure is still tight on her as we both lie on our sides. The ref steps in after an eternity and starts raising Lindsay's arm.
RP: That's One Keel!
LvK: And if the ref hits three, this match is done for.
RP: Two!
LvK: It looks like it's all over...It's Up!!! She got her arm up! This crowd is going nuts! They are cheering her on to get her to break this hold!
I can't believe she is still fighting. What do they feed these girls in Ohio? I try and shove her down, but she struggles to her feet, inspired by her fans and Lisa yelling in the corner. She gets to her feet and then fires back on me...once...twice..and at the third back elbow, I'm forced to let her go. Lisa is calling out for the tag. Lindsay hesitates just one moment and that's all I need. I fire forward while bent over and slam my shoulder into Lindsay's stomach and drive her back into my corner.
I rest on my elbows on the top rope, the tag rope dangling from my fingers like an unattended cigarette, and let my breathing take the pain away. Deep, steady prana breaths to forget the harsh impact of that little Chicago brat's bicep with my goodies, the clop of her stupid fucking sneaker against my head, and the whiplash impact of that big gangly bitch Lindsay's heavy moves. My head rings and my back aches, but I stretch my neck, rolling my shoulders, and shifting my weight in the corner, my dark eyes never leaving the action in the ring.
Stupid cow wanted to play wtih the Enforcer, and now the Enforcer is playing with her.
"That must be how they do things in Ohio, huh?" I smirk down at a passing cameraman who tilts his glassy lens up to catch my dark amusement at Linds slowly fading in the Caudle Clutch.
That degenerate hick color man Caudle wanted to teach the Jailbait Express here how to use his famous sleeper, and instead Red's giving the doofy tall one a free lesson in how to get put the fuck to sleep.
I tense my taped fist around the tag rope, pacing the apron to its taut length and back towards the ringpost, my eyes flickering to Lisa Starr. Starr must see that her big buddy is about to pass out in a drooling wreck, and she's tensed to do SOMEthing ... but she's not making a move into the ring yet. I dunno why, the ref is already at tw-
LvK: It looks like it's all over...It's UP! She got her arm up! This crowd is going nuts! They are cheering her on to get her to break this hold!
RP: Oh, COME ON! WHERE THE HECK DO THEY LEARN HOW TO DO THIS-
"- this *BEEP*, *BEEP*ing BABYFACE ACADEMY?" I roar at no one in particular, slamming a fist into the buckle.
Thankfully unaware of how Rick "Precious" Perle and I are of one mind on this occasion (a thought that would probably make me push my finger so far down my throat that I could scratch my colon), I pace on the apron as Lindsay fires up.
"DON'T *BEEP*ING LET HER GO, RED! GET THAT *BEEP*ING OHIO VALLEY SASQUATCH UNDER CONTROL!"
Red answers with a growl that I'm going to charitably assume means something like "Thanks for the helpful advice, Punky!". He manages to twist around Linds before she can elbow her way completely free, bending down and driving his big shoulder into her gut and driving her all the way back to our corner where she crashes like a Prius in a demolition derby.
I purr happily - for a fleeting moment, all thoughts of Rowan Chance lurking in the building forgotten as I have a chance to inflict some pain on this goofy blonde in the neon headband - and I bounce up to the bottom rope to lean over and plant a resounding kiss on the top of Red's mask as he grips the top rope on either side of Linds, pinning her in.
"*BEEP*ing BEAUTIFUL, Reddy. Get this gangly bitch up on your shoulders for me, and let her take a look at her little buddy," I purr. Red peers up at me in a mixture of surprise and grim delight, and smiles that rough Tracy Smothers smile of his as he hauls Linds out of the corner by the headband and shoves her forward a little, leaving her facing her corner before ducking under her shapely butt and shoving his head between her thighs from behind before straightening up with a growl, lifting her up Animal-style as the audience roars in helpless protest.
Campbell dizzily sways up there, still punchy from the Caudle Clutch and then being rag-dolled, and Lisa Starr pounds her fist on the buckle in protest. The ref uneasily looks between us and then moves towards Lisa to try to cut off any interference. Smart ref. I loudly SMACK my hand against Red's firm back, clearly enough for even a zebra to hear (they're famous for not hearing things, like steel chairs clattering against skulls just behind them) and then grip the top rope. With a neat lunge, I vault to the high steel strand, my joshi skirt fluttering around my hips as I balance there for a moment, grinning like a gargoyle before I SPRING off the top rope. I get sweet height, almost thirteen feet in the air off a huge thrust from my legs and the snap of the steel cable, and at the apex of my jump I cinch my arm around the back of Lindsay's head and swing my long legs out in front of me, giving gravity a helping hand in reclaiming her.
RP: GOING DOWN!
LvK: My GOD, what a brutal bulldog! Off of the Red Enforcer's shoulders! Campbell's head dropped nearly twelve feet! That's GOT to be it!
RP: You'd THINK so, but for some reason these numbnuts good girls and boys always wanna be Hulk Hogan and kick out of things they should just lie down for. If they'd just lay QUIET, they'd get a nice trip to the arena doc and some painkillers. Instead, half the time we hard workers gotta send 'em to the ER just to finish the damn match.
LvK: And by "hard workers" you mean "horrible murderous bastards".
RP: Yeah, it's shorthand. Now, Punky? SHE'S a HELL of a hard worker.
We CRASH down from the heavens with the Doomsday Dog and Lindsay bounces like Icarus on a bad day, flopping limp. I rebound off the mat myself, bouncing off my bruised buns, feeling the shock run up my spine as I roll over to one knee, hissing. I stretch out and recover, jerking my head over my shoulder at Lisa as I slither over to grab Linds and roll her over to her back by those little shorts. I lay my chest across hers, pushing my forearm into her throat and hooking her far leg, nodding along with the count.
ONE!
TWO!
TH-
Three, right?
NO?
WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN NO?!
RP: I TOLD YOU, VAN KEEL! NO HUMAN SHOULD HAVE KICKED OUT OF THAT! THIS IS ALL HULK HOGAN'S FAULT! HIM AND THOSE DAMN VITAMINS!
LvK: Deep breaths, Rick. The Red Enforcer absolutely CLUBBED Lisa Starr off the ring apron before she could get in to help her partner, but Lindsay Campbell BARELY rolled her shoulder up enough to break the count and this match continues - although the Dragon Starrs might not want it to!
RP: I DEMAND A VITAMIN TEST!
I snarl at the referee like fucking Cujo and he flop-sweats backwards, warding me off with both hands. My taped fists lace into Lindsay's strawberry scarecrow hair and I haul the gangly brat off the canvas in a loose-limbed tangle, holding her with her knees bent and her legs wobbly so I can yank her head back and snarl into her face.
"You and your STUPID *BEEP*ing little yappy dog buddy are gonna *BEEP*ing learn, ONE way or the *BEEP*ing other -"
I twist my fingers in her hair until I draw a pained groan as I wrench her head back and go nose-to-nose with her, snarling against her soft lips. To my annoyance, I can hear some of the neckbeards and NXT fans in the audience chanting along with me.
"- SMARTEN THE *BEEP* UP AND STAY THE *BEEP* DOWN!"
Before Linds can gather her wits for a scathing retort - I mean, shit, this match has a one-hour time limit and they've gotta clean the building by 1 AM to get ready for the Shriner's Convention, we ain't got all night - I piston my knee up, low under her belly button. Real low. The referee probably has questions about how low, but he couldn't really see it from his angle since some crazy bitch with purple hair was in his way.
RP: Oooh, right in the breadbasket!
LvK: That was CLEARLY a low blow!
RP: Yep, right in the lower abdomen.
LvK: ...
RP: What, it's only okay if Bret Hart does it?
With the Dragon suitably pacified, I twist around and push my back against her, settling her jaw against my left shoulder and almost caressing her hair as I snuggle her against me, wriggling my hips cozily into place with a sly smirk on my face that I just KNOW will get my YouTube hits up this week. I slither my right hand down, hooking her right knee and hoisting her up to hook those long legs over my hips, grunting a little as I take the big Ohio girl's weight on my back -
- and then I snarl and KICK hard off my boots, jumping up and TWISTING in the air, my skirt fluttering and punkytails trailing behind me as I kick both my long legs out wide and drop me and Linds down to our asses, letting Linds take all the impact so the force snaps her jaw off my shoulder like a toddler bouncing off a drunken daddy's fist.
"OHHHHHHHHHH!" the crowd groans in that wonderful combination of awe, sympathy, and envy they get when they see me hurt people. The Forever Time Buster bounces Linds off my shoulder and flops her deadweight onto her back. I grin and get swiftly up to my knees, then to my toes, hooking both those long legs before I KICK up and over, landing in a flawless bridge with a jack-knife pin over the fallen Dragon.
Fuck the Black Arrow. This is how you kill a fucking dragon.
ONE!
TWO!
THR-WHATTHEFUCK.
I grunt as a stupid Chuck Taylor snaps into my perfectly bridged back, breaking my perfect bridge and my perfect pin and how the FUCK did she get in here.
LvK: And Lisa Starr DYNAMICALLY slides past the Red Enforcer from the outside of the ring to lunge and just barely save her partner and the match!
RP: And that's supposed to be fair, is it?
LvK: I ... damn it, Perle, EVERY tag team wrestler EVER has saved their partner! You can't turn that against me! It doesn't make the Dragon Starrs IMMORAL, damn it!
RP: Just admit your hypocrisy, van Keel, and I'll let you stop wriggling in the crushing grip of reason.
Red finally gathers whatever passes for wits in the deep South and rushes after Lisa, and I think, ya know, fuck it. I slither on top of Lindsay as she's still down and out of it from the Doomsday Dog and then the Forever Time Buster (when you think of a wrestling match in terms of signature move names, it sounds kinda like an anime), straddling her belly. I slide my left hand behind her head and snuggle her up so I can begin to piston god-damn punches into her forehead until I feel better and have some fucking blood on my fucking knuckles.
It's not easy to watch Linds take a beating like that, but there's not a lot I can do right now. And also, I know how tough the Dragon is, and that purple-haired demoness won't get to finish her this quickly.
Well...that Doomsday Dog looked pretty big, so...maybe I should just "UGH! WHAT THE *BEEP*?!" I groan and curse as Red just comes rushing across the ring and hammers me with his forearm, causing me to fall off the apron before I can run in and break the pin. I land on my feet and roll through with a quick front roll, ending up down on a knee. Checking my jaw, which got uncomfortably jacked by that stupid red Gorilla.
From inside the ring, I hear Punky snarling, hissing, yelling, cursing...Linds kicked out! Good job, girl! I start slithering around the ring, keeping my eyes on Red who's still standing inside, but he keeps his eyes on Megan and Lindsay as he starts moving back to his corner. And as Punky goes for the pin after the Forever Time Buster, I charge. Sliding into the ring under the bottom rope and stomping her off my partner!
Running through with a few hop-steps, I turn to look down at the broken pin, gritting my teeth as Punky mounts my partner, wanting to just get in there and kick her teeth out of her mouth! But before I can, the ring starts bouncing and I turn. "Ohhhhhh *beep*" I gasp as Red comes rushing right in towards me.
I hiss as I then charge in at him as well. Swinging my right arm around, clobbering him with a forearm across his jaw that stops him dead in his tracks. But he fires right back at me with a forearm of his own. My head snaps back, but I quickly recover and fire again. This time throwing my gloved, right fist in to smack him with it, which he answers as well.
The two of us are trading punches, while Lindsay is down to TAKING punches with Punky mounting her. The ref doesn't know where to start. He's gotta stop Punky, stop us, and in addition to that, get Red and me out of the ring. The poor guy seems to be unable to cope with this, his head goes back and forth, his arms out, and his little "Hey!"s are overheard by all of us.
In our brawl, the power of the bigger guy comes into play, and eventually I'm sent staggering back with each blow. Unable to strike back, and eventually he gives me a rough shove that sends me back into the corner. Slumped back, seeing him step back towards the middle of the ring, Punky's still pounding away on Lindsay's forehead. Not sure how much of a cushion that headband is...but it probably doesn't help too much.
Now, back to my problems! Red roars out and comes charging in, lowering his shoulder, looking to slam it into my abs, which might pretty much take me out of this match. He's gotta stop...I gotta make him stop!
And he will stop!! He comes in, bent over, wanting to break me in half with a spear...but I sidestep! Instead of my belly, he gets one hand on his back, the other at his trunks. I turn quickly, using his momentum against him as I just toss him out between the middle and top turnbuckle and let him slam, with his injured shoulder first, into the unforgiving steel post behind the buckles.
CLANG
OHHHHHHHH!
The crowd groans out as the impact of flesh and bone on steel echoes through the building and I stagger along the ropes. Slumping back against them with my arms draped over the top ones. A satisfied smirk across my lips as Red roars our in pain while slowly slumping off the turnbuckle and down to the canvas.
Now to Punky! She hears Red and looks his way as I turn so my back's towards her, looking back over my shoulder. Punky sends one more punch down at poor Lindsay's forehead, and then gets up to her feet. She roars at Red to "GET THE *BEEP* UP!"
And just as she gets up, I leap. Hopping up to plant my feet against the middle rope. Bending my knees, letting the cables stretch back a little so they help me spring back at my unsuspecting victim. Pushing off the rope, I spin in mid-air after the Springboard. Twisting my body 180°, legs first. "AND WHERE THE *BEEP* IS THAT *BEEP*?!" I hear as she spins around to look for me. And it doesn't take long for her to find me.
Our eyes lock for a moment, right as she turned to face me, I plant my left Chuck on her right shoulder and lean up a bit, almost like standing on her shoulder with that one. And then, I throw my right leg around. Whacking her hard across the side of head with the top of my right foot.
LvK: And Starr hits the Stage Dive! Look at the chaos!
RP: Yeah, this is chaos, alright. The good girls are gone bad! This just isn't right!! Starr shouldn't be in that ring, and we ALL know it!!
LvK: But neither should Red!
RP: He's just in there to try and get Lisa out of there!
LvK: Aren't we just a big hypocritical right now?
RP: What do you mean, "right now"?
My kick lands with a loud echo, as long with a loud roar from the crowd. Punky goes down, and so do I. Landing on my hands and knees after the kick lands flush. Sitting up on my knees, I look around the ring, and I'm the only one with her head up! Lindsay's down, trying to clear the cobwebs from that pounding she took, Red's down, rubbing his shoulder, and Punky's down, looking all glass-eyed up into the ring.
"Heh...nice!" I smirk as I kneel mid-ring. Time to show off a bit! I pound my right fist into the canvas, then spread my arms out wide as I get to my feet "COME OOOOOOONNNN!" I yell and get a loud reaction from the crowd. On my way back towards my corner I step to Lindsay, giving her a soft little smack on her cheek. "Come on, Sunny! Go get that *BEEP*!"
The ref's job has gotten much easier in the meantime, as there's only 1 girl left he's gotta take care of, and that's me, telling me to get out of the ring again and again. "Alright, alright..." rolling my eyes as I head back towards my corner. Hoping Linds can be productive now after I've cleaned up a bit.
I'm dizzy, stunned, my head's swimming and I'm blinking my eyes hard. Trying to get my head back into this match. ,,Owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww" I moan as Lisa comes over and gives me that little smack to wake me up. I don't really know what's been going on over the last few seconds...or has it been minutes? I dunno...
I slowly sit up on my elbows, vision still blurry, and I can literally FEEL the bruises on my forehead appearing after Megan pounded me over and over again with these taped fists of hers. And no, my headband didn't really take a lot of impact off the blows.
Finally propped up on my elbows, looking around, I see Red, clutching his shoulder and rolling out of the ring. The ref takes a sigh of relief as the 2 legal participants are left alone in the ring again. I then look over at Megan, holding her head after Lisa's big kick.
Alright, get up, Lindsay...come on!
Easier thought that done, but eventually I make my way back up to my feet.
RP: How's this girl standing? WHY's this girl standing?! Seriously, why can't these girls just learn their lesson and stay down?
LvK: You're starting to sound like Megan.
RP: Good! That girl makes so much sense with just about everything she says and does. And eventually, she's gonna send these corn-fed midwest-dolls back on the farms they belong!
LvK: I'm...pretty sure, they're from big cit-
RP: BACK. to the FARMS. they BELONG!
LvK: *sighs* Well...doesn't look too good for your purple friend right now, though. The Dragon's back up and closing in on Megan. And Ms. Campbell doesn't look happy.
Of course I'm not happy!! My head feels like someone tried to get through my skull with a Jackhammer!
I'm rubbing my forehead as I step in towards Punky. She's starting to push up as well, on her knees, facing away from me. And I'm thinking...maybe it's time to give her a headache as well! A little grin comes creeping across my lips, I brush my hair back over my shoulders, then adjust my bright yellow wristbands.
Reaching down with my left, I grab one of Megan's Punkytails and pull her up to her feet. She howls and curses out real nice and loud as I get her up, then roughly turn her around to face her. My left hand on her shoulder now, grabbing it tightly as I lean down. Getting my face close to hers while wiggling the fingers of my right hand. She looks a little dizzy! I slowly part my lips, opening my mouth wide and hissing right at her face like breathing fire into it. Then I take a quick step back and throw my right hand forward.
Placing my palm on her forehead, my fingers spreading around, thumb on her one temple, pinkie finger on the other, the other 3 fingers spread around the top of her head...and I SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEZE. Gritting my teeth, my left hand goes to my right wrist as I squeeze down on her head.
LvK: The Dragon Claw!! Lindsay locks in the Dragon Claw! The Purple Vixen is in trouble! This could be it!
RP: Ohhhhhh no! Get your hands off her, Buckeye! That's not fair, she's...I'm pretty sure she's gouging Punky's eyes!
No I'm not!! And yes, she is in trouble!! Megan's arms are flailing a bit as she cries out in pain. Then her hands go for my wrists, pulling and tugging at them, but my arms are not bucking an inch. Even though she's putting everything she's got into trying to pry my arms off, it's not working. I see her biceps tensing, muscles growing, but still...nope!
I grit my teeth in effort, looking into her eyes as I squeeze down on her hard. I feel her grip weaken, and she starts to sway back and forth a bit. Her knees get all wobbly...
LvK: She's going down! Looks like she's fading! The Dragon may have her!
RP: Noooooo, she'll find a way! Punky ALWAYS finds a way.
Not this time!! Red's not in his corner, and not in the ring either. He won't save her this time! Megan drops down to a knee in my grip. Her moans and my grunts are a symphony of pain and effort. I'm standing tall in front of her, my legs spread a little, having a good stand, which gives me the perfect position to apply more and more pressure to her.
Then, from the corner of my eye, I see Red. He climbed up on the apron, still clutching his injured shoulder. He's yelling at the ref who's been asking Megan if she wants to give it up. He keeps asking, trying to ignore him, or...simply not hearing him? I don't know...but after a few seconds the ref is the one who's giving up. He turns to face Red, politely asking him what he wants, and also asking him to get back to his corner.
And Megan? Well, I'm guessing she's not really out of it yet, because the very moment the ref turns way from us, she pushes back up to both her feet with one quick push of those strong legs, and fires one of those legs up, between my legs!!
RP: See? Punky ALWAYS finds a way!
The crowd groans, then boos rain down on Megan who collapses back down to her knees after punting me between my legs. I drop to my knees as well, a silent scream on my lips, my hands go between my legs and...I'm struggling to breathe. The pain washes through me like...like something that really really hurts!!
Megan gives me a little shove that topples me over. Landing with my arms underneath me, so the ref can't really see that my hands are between my legs! She's pretty good at hiding the fact that she's cheated...very very good!
Punky has the big girl in a bad way and I'm yelling at her to get back over here. She makes it to her feet, but spins a bit. Yeah, she's still hurting, but she stumbles backwards to our corner. I lean over the top rope and make a loud tag so that ref guy hears and I make a note to apologize to Punky for slapping her ass that hard. My left arm is back to feeling numb again, but I'm not hurting as bad as Gracie is now. She is still cupping her delicate spot and making me wonder if Punky still has her steel-toed boots on.
LvK: The Enforcer seems to be favoring his left arm as he hauls Lindsay up to her feet by her hair.
RP: And that's why I never let my hair go long Keel.
LvK: I thought that was male pattern baldness.
RP: .......
She's still wobbly on her feet and her eyes look like she's a littke lost in the pain. I almost feel sorry for her, but I remember I have a match to win so I have her face me and with my right arm lift her up like a sidewalk slam, but then I bend my knee and extend my thigh.
RP: Devastating one armed slam onto his knee by the Enforcer!
LvK:And now the Dragon is splayed out over his knee and he is just bending her in a harsh reverse C!
RP: Looks like we're gonna see how flexible the Buckeye Bimbo is.
I watch the ref carefully. I'm not really able to push on her chin with my left hand as hard as I'd like, so I need to hurt her in a different way. As he goes to her face to ask about the submission, I let my right hand ball up into a fist and jab it quickly between Lindsay's legs and grind my knuckles where Punky hurt her before.
LvK:That's an illegal.... Oh my gawd, he's going to ruin her!
RP: That's the Greco Roman Knuckle Twist, Keel. She does look lovely writhing about like that.
As I keep grinding, I can hear Lindsay screaming and her arms and legs thrash about. Lisa is yelling at the ref and I watch him closely. At the first sign of him looking at me, my hand shifts to her thigh. He turns to Lisa and shrugs and goes back to asking Lindsay.
LvK: He's doing it again! That's so blatant!
RP: Only if the ref sees it Keel.
The crowd is up in arms with boos and screaming as I torture the poor long blonde some more. And again I move my hand to her thigh when the ref looks my way. I go for a third time and...shit that bastard caught me. He starts his count at 1...2...
LvK: The Enforcer breaks the hold, but grabs Lindsay's top and bottoms and just yanks her up in the air off his leg and slams her down to the canvas.
RP: I take it back, she looks lovely flopping around on the mat like that more than being on his knee.
I do an arm check and it's rested, but I need more time. I grab Lindsay's leg under her knee and turn to head to my corner, looking like a caveman dragging his wife. I go to tag Punky and sunuvabitch. She's not even looking at me! I drop Lindsay's leg and as Punky is staring off at the crowd I grab her shoulder and spin her around. I can see the wild, desperate look in her eyes as our gazes meet. "Get in the Gawd*BEEP* Game, Punky!"
I was really gonna enjoy watching Reddy work Linds' secret garden over, guaranteeing that all the blonde-chasers in Ohio would be deprived of her gangly companionship for many nights to come. That shit is better than South Park, at least the newer seasons. But then I heard my name, clear as fucking day.
"Punky." A harsh but sensual whisper, a voice ragged with cut glass and orgasmic moans. A voice like Rowan Chance's, but darker.
There's no fucking way I could hear a whisper in this crowd. There's thousands of baboons in the audience all threatening to castrate Red for what he's doing to Lindsay's goodies and offering loud drunken opinions on our skills as wrestlers, our choice of attire and our doubtful parentage.
But I HEARD it.
I twist around on the apron, tearing my eyes off the spectacle of Red cheating like Roddy Piper in his heyday, and I rake the crowd with my eyes. Wherever I look, they fall quiet for a moment, only to start yelling again as soon as my wide, strange, and furious gaze is off them. Stalking back and forth, the match falling away into sound and fury behind me, searching for a glimpse of that fucking mask. That fucking spider.
That fucking Aika.
When Red takes my shoulder and jerks me around, my heart jumps into my fucking throat and I'm a quarter of a second away from decking him, knocking his molars into his fucking pancreas, but I keep my fist tensed at my side, and meet his angry eyes with my wide ones.
We stare at each other in fury and confusion for a long second before I shake my head, and growl at him.
"Stop staring at my *BEEP*in' ass all the time and ... YOU'RE LETTING HER GET AWAY, DUMBASS!"
Admittedly, that was a brutally unfair way to twist his perfectly legitimate complaint, but I wouldn't be a girl if I argued under FAIR rules. But I don't have time to get huffed at by the Enforcer, as Campbell has taken advantage of our debate to start low-crawling towards her corner, and Lisa Starr is bouncing up and down like the fucking Trix Rabbit, leaning over the rope as far as she can to try get a tag.
LvK: She's GOT to get this tag! Lindsay Campbell has suffered TERRIBLE abuse at the hands of the Countdown, and now she's got a shot at getting a fresh and furious Lisa Starr into the ring!
RP: She's not THAT fresh, van Keel! She got her little ass kicked just as hard as the Duh-ragon did. The Countdown's just gonna flatten 'em both until they BOTH need a hot tag ... and then they can go to the ER together!
LvK: ... why are you such a terrible person?
RP: It's all in my upbringing, van Keel! My ma made me fight the dog for a pork chop for dinner and my dad used me as an ashtray!
LvK: I'm ... I'm sorry.
RP: Hell, I'm not. I learned ways to use a lit cigarette that won me two titles. Hey, and speaking of terrible people, INCOMING PUNKY!
I vault over the top rope and go pelting across the ring, long strides slamming the canvas. People wonder why I wrestle in Docs - when I first started, I wore Chuck Taylors just like lil' Starr-struck, and later I wore Hayabusa boots. I wear and train in Doc Martens because they're heavy as fuck, they have steel toes, and they make me sound like an oncoming train when I run.
Campbell's fingers are just inches from Starr's wavering hands as I bolt right past her, SNAPPING my right leg up and twisting my hips to throw my weight behind the kick, locking my long leg out like a lance and SLAMMING the waffled sole of my Doc against the side of Lisa's head, sending her flying off the apron with another Monster Queen yakuza kick!
*CRACK!*
"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
This crowd is starting to sound Japanese with those coordinated groans after every stiff kick. I let my right leg drape over the top rope as I hang there a second, looking at Starr crumpled on the apron, and then I draw back around to see Lindsay getting up to her knees, a hand nestled between her thighs still and her head ringing. She blinks up at me, her free hand still out for a tag that's definitely not coming.
"Sorry, sugar-tits. Wrong number." I purr, and I get a handful of that strawberry mane and that neon headband and a hand around her extended wrist, yanking Linds to her big feet. For a moment we look like we're about to tango before I yank her against me, her chin cradled on my shoulder, and I slowly force her arm down and firmly drive her own wrist up between her thighs, clasping it from behind to lock it in place. She groans at the pressure as I yank up on her hand, my other hand slithering over her hip in a lover's caress before I get a handful of her tights.
LvK: Oh, this is just ... just ...
RP: Incredibly *BEEP*ing hot?
LvK: I ... no! Terrible! Terrible is the word I was looking for!
RP: Sure, van Keel. You stare at Punky stroking the Dragon any harder and I sense a lotta Hail Marys in your future.
"By the way," I purr in Lindsay's ear once I have her firmly hooked for the wrist-clutch overhead suplex. "You and your little buddy throw suplexes like *BEEP*ing pussies."
My knees bend deep, stockings tightening around the muscles of my calves, and I take a deep prana breath, clearing my head of everything for a moment - pain and exhaustion and the noisy crowd and the spider stalking me in the darkness - and I SNARL as I get this big girl up, up, ALL the way fucking up and over and SLAM her long body into the buckles with a Master Exploder that SHAKES THE FUCKING RING.
LvK: GREAT CAESAR'S GHOST!
RP: HOLY SHIZ!
I sit there for a moment after getting her over, and grin at Red through the purple hair that's fallen across my forehead, a little loose from my punkytails. I reach back and get a handful of Linds' top, nestling my fist between her tits, and another handful of her little shorts, dragging her away from the corner by her top and bottoms.
My body slithers over hers, settling cozily onto her sweaty curves and vining my legs around her right thigh, my left forearm pressed to her cheek and pushing her head roughly down, right hand braced on the mat for the leverage.
ONE!
TWO!
"Come the *BEEP* on!" I snarl as the Dragon twists under me, breaking my grip and managing to get her shoulder just up enough to break the pin. The ref thrusts two fingers in the air and I thrust one finger up at him to illustrate my feelings on the subject. He starts to say something but I bare my teeth at him and hiss a little something about wondering what his throat tastes like, and he wisely gives me a little space.
LvK: The amount of fight in all FOUR of these competitors is just staggering. They've ALL come back from moves that would just leave a lesser athlete flattened.
RP: I think that's why I got outta the game, really. There's just so much stress on fighting back from the impossible, on getting up when all your body wants to do is lay down and suffer. You can only manage that level of willpower for so long, ya know?
LvK: ... also you were banned for setting Chris Hopper on fire in River City.
RP: Right, yeah. That, too. It was like 50-50.
LvK: 50% being tired of fighting against impossible odds and 50% being banned from the ring for dousing a man in ether and setting him on fire during a wrestling match.
RP: Yep. Right down the middle.
I womanhandle Lindsay up to her athletic shoes. She's wobbly on her feet, but still takes a swing at me, her hand CRACKING across my jaw and sending me staggering back a step, drawing a cheer from the crowd. I hang on the rope a second, snarling as I draw my taped fist across my lips. A sidelong glance shows that Lisa Starr still isn't back on the apron -
- so I come off the ropes and SLAM my shoulder into Linds' belly, spearing her lanky ass to the canvas and wrapping my left arm around her head, cradling her up as I lay across her tits, PISTONING my right fist down into her forehead again and again and a-fucking-gain until I get her split open at last, softened up from that last hammering I gave her.
I hiss in satisfaction as the crowd ROARS their rage, and Linds clutches at her head and kicks her long legs as I sit up and lick the blood off my tape with a loving curl of my pierced tongue.
LvK: Dear GOD in heaven, Punky is SICK.
RP: I know, right?
LvK: She .. wait, what?
RP: I mean, with all the STDs you gotta figure Campbell is carrying ...
LvK: ... classy, Perle.
If someone out there in the crowd wants me - if they want my blood - if they want to show me what they did in Japan ... let me show them what they're getting. Let me show them some fucking blood. Let me show them that I ain't afraid of no joshi. I drag Linds back up, curls of scarlet running down her pretty face, and stand behind her in mid-ring, crossing her arms across her belly with my fists wrapped around her opposing wrists.
"Kono, sukoshi yūrei o mitekudsai!" I snarl in strong-voice Japanese, ducking my head and putting it between Linds' long legs from behind. With a GROWL I stagger upright, getting the big girl on my shoulders and then DROPPING back, brutally slamming her back and shoulders to the mat as I arch back in a gorgeous bridge, balancing on my toes as I drop her with an OCEAN CYCLONE SUPLEX!
LvK: Good God, that could be it! The referee drops, checking the shoulders - and checking Punky's as well, he has to with a bridge like that, but she's clean - and he counts!
BUT SHE'S OUT AT TWO, JUST BARELY!
RP: Campbell's lucky she's tall enough to use them long legs and twist her hips to break Punky's lock on her arms, or she'd have been friggin' done for. If she was smart, she'd have stayed down, like Punky keep tellin' her.
I sit up with furious dark eyes, satisfied with delivering the suplex even if Campbell kicked out. I glance over my shoulder - the Dragon is down and her blood is running onto the mat, and there's no sign of Starr. Maybe I concussed the little bitch. That'd be a nice treat. I snake to my feet and hold my hand out extremely formally to Red, almost mockingly so. He hesitates a moment, narrowing his eyes at me - Dixie boys hate when you don't take 'em serious - and then SMACKS my hand hard enough to send painful tingles through the tape. I flex my fingers and grin, getting to my toes and whispering in Red's ear, making sure I'm pressed up warmly against him so he's paying attention.
He nods - and smiles that big Smothers smile of his, so toothy.
I grin and we move to the center of the ring, dragging Linds to her feet. She protests like a high schooler being dragged out of bed by her mother, dizzy and bloodied and soaked in sweat after the long brutal brawl, but we get her on her feet, wavering in the center of the ring with me in front of her and Reddy just behind.
"G'night, sugar-tits," I purr, and then I LEAP, twisting around in the air, my punkytails whipping with me as my skirt flutters around my hips, and behind Linds Red drops down and swings his big heavy leg around in a half circle so he slams his strong leg behind her knees in a sweep just as I snap my heel around in a full rising circle, catching her under the jaw.
She's caught between two opposing forces and twists in the air like a cat hit by two cars at once before she flops to the canvas, a twitching mess of dead weight.
It's that little ECW throwback that we love to treasure, called -
RP: *doing a fairly decent Joey Styles* TOTAL ELIMINIAAAAATIOOOOON!
LvK: Oh dear God, that poor girl. The referee has to just stop this. The Countdown isn't going for a win, they're going for Lindsay's career.
RP: *still doing Styles* OH MY GOD!
LvK: Let's not get sued, Perle.
I look down in satisfaction at the Dragon's wreckage, standing and slowly extending my arms to either side, fingers folding into rock hands, throwing the horns. Red simply lifts his fist and smirks behind his mask.
I wink at the big guy and slither to the apron, leaning on the top cable and wrapping my fist in the tag rope, getting my breath back. Letting the crowd noise wash over me. All that hatred, all that rage, mingled with the contrarian laughter and cheers of the tattooed rebels and mutants who like seeing bad things happen to good people.
I don't hear any whispers now, no.
Not at all.
LvK: And the referee is going to let this madness continue - Lisa Starr is nowhere to be seen, the Red Enforcer has Lindsay Campbell helpless and Punky is ... looking around with those frightening mad eyes of hers again. What was that she said before she hit the suplex made famous by Manami Toyota?
RP: She said 'Watch this, little ghost'.
LvK: ... really?
RP: I speak seven languages, Larry. Ya gotta know how to insult people no matter WHERE you're wrestling.
She was right here. Right in front of me. Just a few inches from the tag because these two idiots had to have another argument. Then, I hear the tag *BEEP*. Stretching out further. Hearing Punky's heavy boots thud over the boards. Stretching out as far as I can now! Wanting to get that tag before Lindsay gets clobbered.
And then the unexpected happens WHOAFFFFF!! I am the one who gets kicked! For the second time in this match that I feel that waffled sole smash against my face. I'm unceremoniously knocked off the apron, landing in a heap on the thin mats outside the ring, and that's where I stay for a while. Knocked silly, not moving and drifting in and out of consciousness.
By the time I'm coming back to my senses, the Countdown duo just laid out my partner with the Total Elimination. I hear the boos raining down, and a few drunk-ass punks laughing their asses off at our expense.
As the two bullies take their sweet time to pose in the middle of the ring, I'm starting to climb back up to my feet. My head hangs low, still feeling like Megan kicked it off my shoulders! My head just dangles off my neck. Holding on to the apron with both hands to get a halfway steady stand.
Looking into the ring, I see Red with his back towards me, in their corner, Punky's looking all over the crowd again. Taking a deep breath, along with a little moan as I sneak around the ring. Keeping my head low (voluntarily! Like...totally!) to remain unseen.
LvK: This isn't right. Why didn't the Red Enforcer go for the pin here? Lindsay has not moved since their last double team move. It's almost like...
RP: They just want to punish this girl!
LvK: Exactly! It looks like all they want to do is make this brave young woman suffer!
RP: I wasn't assuming, I was telling you. It's a fact! And there's a fine line between bravery and idiocy, van Keel. And these two cute bubble butts have crossed that line a LONG time ago.
Red's setting himself up as Lindsay starts to come back to her feet. And I'm lurking around the ring. Megan's in far-far-away mode, scanning the crowd for a ghost that isn't there. Eventually, Lindsay gets up, and Red takes off into the ropes. I positioned myself so Linds faces my way, and Red comes running right at me. He turns to hits the ropes, he's got a lot of speed for a guy his size!! But that'll come to a halt quickly.
I reach in with my right hand, hooking up his right foot and he's tripped up. Staggering off the ropes, almost falling over...but not quite! *BEEP* I curse as he finds his footing again. Alright, gotta move fast now! Punky hasn't yet realized what's going on, still looking for her Geisha or...whatever.
I leap up to the apron, stepping on the bottom rope with my left foot and as red turns around with an angry look in his eyes, I push up and lean into the ring. My right hand goes out and...
RP: What the hell?! She poked him in the eyes!! She...this is the GOOD GIRL?! Are you *BEEP*ing kidding me?!
LvK: It's just....she...they cheated as well!
RP: Really? That all you can say?! Red was about to take Campbell's head off! And that girl comes in, trips him up, pokes him in the eyes...I'm starting to REALLY like this girl!!
LvK: Don't say that. Just...don't!
The ref turns just in time to see me poke Red's eyes. He comes in, yelling at me to Get back in your corner!! and Stop poking eyes! and stuff like that. All I can do is roll my eyes. Shut up! I growl as Red staggers back, holding his eyes. These eye holes are awesome! Nice, easy targets.
As he staggers, I leap up, planting my feet on the top rope before leaping off towards Red with a Springboard. Pulling my knees up towards my chest and leaning back a bit. Reaching out with both of my arms, grabbing for the back of Red's masked head as I come down. Pressing both of my padded knees into his face as I pull his head down against them with both hands. And I come down....
THUD
The ring trembles from the impact I make on my back. Letting out a little groan...but Red's got the worse of the impact, having his masked face driven straight into my knees. Unfortunately I put my pads on before the match, which took some of the impact off. But I still busted his face pretty good. Not as good as Lindsay's face, though. I get to my feet, the ref comes to 'escort' me out of the ring...and just then I see that my partner's been busted open!!
WHAT THE *BEEP* *BEEEEEP*?! I roar out in anger, looking down at Red, clutching his masked face...no, no blood on his hands. Then checking over at Megan, who turns back towards the ring, looking a little annoyed that my loud yell distracted her from scanning the crowd. And...there it is!! Blood! The once black and purple tape...now partially covered in red.
She glares back at me. Her eyes looking...kinda empty, while mine burn with the intensity of a thousand suns. I'm gonna FUCK that BITCH up!! (No. No censoring here. These are thoughts. No need to censor thoughts! It's a free country after all.)
Pushing against the ref for a second or two, but eventually...I'm letting him force me out of the ring and back to my corner. Punky looks at Red, then actually turns around to face the ring again! Wow! She shows some interest in the match? Oh wait...not for long, as she's got her head turned to the side, scanning the crowd again...geez, that girl! If I was Red, I'd be almost as angry as I am right now.
Slowly taking my eyes off Punky, looking at Lindsay, who's still on her feet! Or...trying to stay on her feet. Her legs are wobbly, she looks REALLY confused. The eyes glassy, blood all over her face and that cute headband. HEY SUNNY!! OVER HERE!" I yell and smack my left hand against the top turnbuckle to get her attention, then grab the tag rope and reaching in with my free hand. Come on, girl! You can do it!!
I'm 'standing' – if you want to call it that. My knees are wobbly, I'm hunched a bit, and my arms just dangle down my sides – in the middle of the ring. And all I see is a flash of black and blue as Lisa flies all over the ring! And I also see Red! Not only talking about the man who just ate Lisa Starr's knees, though. My eyes are crossed after being knocked silly by those two. I'm kinda looking at my own nose, and I see my blood on it.
"Hfffff...." is all I can answer to Lisa urging me on to make the tag. Slowly turning my head over towards her, and then I'm starting to actually walk over there! Sure, I may look like a Zombie straight out of the Walking Dead, but at least I'm moving. I see Lisa stretch her arm out towards me again, but halfway between the middle of the ring and my corner, I feel a rough grip on my shoulder. I'm spun around on the spot, followed by a loud
SMACK
that causes a louder
OHHHHHHHH!
from the crowd as Red got back up on his feet, turned me to face him, and then delivered a harsh, open-handed chop across the top of my chest.
I'm smacked right out of my dizzy state. The stinging pain does a pretty good job at waking me up. My eyes grow wide, arms cross across my chest as I turn and stagger away. Only to feel Red's hands bury into my hair at the back of my head. I'm yanked back into him, his chest smacks against my chest, which delivers a sudden halt to my movement. And then...
RP: Red's setting her up! This is gonna be it! Give it a few more seconds, this match is over!
LvK: He has her arms, this could be big trouble for the Dragon. So many things can go wrong from this position when you're facing the Red Enforcer!
RP: Exactly! You gotta wonder...is he gonna swing her around with the Red Reign or put her out with the Shen Long Slam? I don't even care! Both is gonna be AWESOME to watch!
LvK: There's so much wrong in what you just said. And what's bothering me, and our law team, the most: You need to stop yelling that A-word. We don't need another copyright infringement lawsuit.
I couldn't care less about lawsuits right now! I see Lisa in our corner, gritting her teeth, looking all angry at me being pulled away and set up for one of Red's big moves in the middle of the ring. His arms slid up underneath mine, his hands are locked on the back of my head and I'm trapped in a painful Full Nelson right in the middle of the ring. Arms dangling up helplessly, my face a bloody mess, my once neon-yellow headband soaked up a lot of it and is now shimmering dark red. Feeling the warm liquid roll down my face, and that's kinda...not to my liking!
Red holds me in place for a few seconds. Threatening to take me out once and for all, and also throwing some taunts across the ring at my partner. I'm getting some time to recover, and to let the Adrenaline in my body give me a second wind. Or a third, maybe fourth wind, looking how the match has been going so far.
I take a few deep breaths, and then begin to growl in a mix of effort and anger. My arms start to shake, and Red's attention is turned back to me. "NO! No you don't, you little *BEEP*!" Well, maybe yes, yes I do! I grit my teeth, my lips parting as I get to the point where my arms and shoulders hurt like hell! But I gotta keep trying....keep trying!! I feel his grip weaken...I know I can escape!
RP: Not again!! These god damn Vitamins!! I'm telling you, she's gotta be on drugs or something! She can't possibly...
LvK: She's going to! She's going to escape! The Dragon is still in this thing!
That's right. I'm still in this thing! And with one loud ROAR I throw my arms down and with that quick movement, Red's grip breaks and he staggers backwards, away from me. I don't know if it was his injured shoulder or my strength that allowed me to break the hold...but I don't really care, either.
"Ahh...owww!" I groan as I turn and look to stay right on Red. "That. Wasn't. Nice!" I hiss as I quickly follow him. My eyes narrowed at him, for a moment at Punky who leans back with both her hands on the top rope. Seems like she wants some more distance from me as well!
But right now I don't want her. I want Red for grinding his knuckles into my kitty! And because he's the legal man in the match, of course. Before he finds his footing, I reach for the waistband of his trunks with my right hand and the left hand goes to his mask. Gritting my teeth as I start stepping backwards towards our corner.
Turning to run the last few steps, I push down to make him bend over, and once we reach the corner, I throw him forward, out of the ring between the middle and top rope and with a CLANG his injured shoulders slams into the ring post. After that impact, I collapse into the ropes at my left. Breathing hard and looking over at Lisa. I give her a little smile and nod, then weakly raise my right hand for her to smack it.
SMACK
TAG!
Yeah, shoulder is pretty dead now. I can't believe Lindsay got to me like that. She's way tougher than she looks. I ease off the ring post and turn around to lean against the corner, trying to get my bearings and...
WHAMMMMMM
LvK: Just outstanding running dropkick by Lisa Starr smashes the Enforcer back into the corner!
RP: She's cheating!
LvK: Cheating!?! She was legally tagged in and is the legal person!
RP: She's winning! She has to be cheating!
I'm rocked, dazed and hurting. Lisa followed up the dropkick which slammed me into the corner with a running high knee to the face. I am just lying back slouched against the corner as Lisa mounts and starts driving fists into my forehead.
"1....2....3...4....5....6....7......8.....9........10!"
LvK: The crowd joining in as Lisa delivers...
RP: Illegal closed fists!
LvK: ....shots in the corner and now she spins around and has the Enforcer's head and comes out of the corner and drives him into the mat with a devastating bulldog!
RP: And now she's playing up to the idiots in the crowd that buy into that Sucker Punch wannabe's spiel. She's about as punk as Good Charlotte.
I feel fingers digging into my mask as I start to groan and push up from the mat. I don't think Lisa can get me
up and I am not about to help her. I reach up and grab for her hands, but that just irritates her for some reason and she ends up discouraging me with some rapid fire kicks to my side, my chest and then one to my face that leaves me woozy. I look up and see her bouncing back off the ropes and coming at me. I think I get one arm up and then...
WHAMMMMMM
LvK: Another impactful dropkick to the Enforcer's face has him rocking on his knees!
RP: Starr is just a blur of motion, she's not stopping!
LvK: She backs up and...SHINING WIZARD! She rolls the Enforcer over...hooks the leg...and...
RP: That's a 2! Just 2!
LvK: Starr looks up at the ref incredulously. But somehow the Enforcer got one shoulder up.
I don't know how, probably reflex and muscle memory, but I wrenched my shoulder up. And now it's hurting. I look up and see the arena lights, wondering where my partner is in the midst of all this. But before I can take that thought further, I feel tiny hands grabbing my arms and moving me somewhere. Then I see a leg coming down on me. And then another cover.
LvK: Another 2 count!
RP: More like 2 7/8ths! C'mon Big Guy! Get up!
As Lisa is talking to the ref again, I roll towards the ropes. Unfortunately I rolled away from my corner and towards enemy territory. I look up and see Lindsay looking down at me. She's mad I can tell. But she's also holding back. Good for her. I'm kinda sad to know that one day she's going to be as cynical as the rest of us. I reach up on the ropes and start pulling myself up when Lisa comes back to me and helps me up, pushing me back against the ropes and launching me to the other side.
LvK: Irish whip and Starr misses the clothesline! Enforcer back off the opposite side and Starr launches into the air for a cross body...
RP: And she's caught! She's caught! What strength by the Enforcer!
LvK: Lisa's trying to fight out of his grip and the Enforcer spins her and drives her into the mat with a Sidewalk Slam!
RP: And Lisa's folded up like an accordion! I have to say that is her best side.
LvK: Will you stop!
Yeah, that hurt, but I needed to do it. Finally I'm free of the Pixie and I crawl on over towards my side of the ring. Look at me, being the Ricky Morton. I head to my corner, aching like a motherfucker and reach out with my good arm for the tag.
As Red inches toward Punky, both arms reaching out, a voice calls out over the speakers.
"Maaaay-gaaan..."
A voice from the past... but a different voice. Changed like iron changed by the forge.
Punky spins around on the apron, her eyes focusing on the crowd.
LvK: We've heard that voice before!
RP: What's she doing here? This isn't her match!
"I'm here... Maaaay-gaaan..."
Words skim by Punky's lips. Her eyes narrow and darken. Almost black.
"And I want you to... hurt me."
Those last words sound like a petition to a dark goddess.
"Hurt me. Like only you can."
And those words sound like a lover's whisper.
LvK: Red is almost to the corner! He's reaching out!
RP: Turn around, Punky! Turn around!
But Punky doesn't turn. She jumps to the floor, her boots hitting the mats hard. She reaches under the ring...
LvK: She's looking for something...
RP: I think we both know what that is, van Keel!
LvK: Looks like... YES! It's the RED QUEEN!
Punky comes back up from the apron with a croquet mallet in her hands.
LvK: The Red Queen! We haven't seen that since...
RP: Since she took out Ursula van Winkle with it.
LvK: Punky ended van Winkle's career with that mallet. And this is the first time in years we've seen it.
RP: And I bet she has plans to use it on You-Know-Who!
LvK: You can't even say her name can you?
RP: Of course I can! I... just don't want to...
With that croquet mallet in hand, Punky jumps the barrier between the outside of the ring and the audience, her punky tails flying out behind her.
And back in the ring, Red reaches his corner... but nobody is there.
I'm down on the canvas, laying half on my side and motionless after being caught and taken down with that hard Sidewalk Slam. Okay...that hurt! That was stupid! Note to self: NEVER try to Crossbody someone who's about twice your size! It can't end well! And now I'm laying here, waiting for the tag and for Punky to pummel me again...and I'm not sure how much more of that I can take.
So I wait...
and wait...
and wait...
and, wait, WHAT?!
I groan and raise my head as I hear that voice. Looking left and right. The arena is silent except for that voice and the announcers. I roll over to my stomach, seeing Punky hopping off the apron and heading into the crowd with her Red Queen. While the Red King stands in the corner, looking shocked as his partner abandons him.
Alright. Now or never! I push up to my feet, and without hesitating for even a moment, I charge in...
RP: Oh, hey LOOK OUT!!
LvK: Oh my! Starr takes advantage of the distraction and runs right THROUGH the Enforcer!!
...and throw my right arm around. Blindsiding Red with a stiff elbow right to the back of his neck and head. The crowd, ref, Red and Lindsay are torn out of their little daydream – more like a nightmare – as Red is driven hard into the turnbuckles. I stay right on him like white on rice. Backing up a little and just pounding him with quick kicks to the back, ribs, before throwing wild fists and elbows into his devastated shoulder.
I'm getting lost in the moment of violence, barely even hearing the ref's count over Red's moans and screams of pain, but eventually, before DQing me, he bullies his way between myself and my victim and pushes us apart. I grit my teeth as I stagger back a few feet. My eyes filled with rage as I glare at the ref. "Alright, I'm off of him! Now GET THE *BEEP* OUT OF MY WAY!"
LvK: Starr is, let's say, on fire! She wants to finish this right here and now!
RP: She better be a bit more careful, though. If she keeps going like this, Countdown's gonna win this while she's beating the holy hell out of the Enforcer.
The ref...doesn't get out of my face? What's his problem?! I'm bringing some action to this place! I was beating Red to a pulp! WHY would he want me to stop?! I dunno, but I know what the crowd wants. Well...let's say...I know what I want! As Red slowly turns around, holding his shoulder, I force my way past the ref, slam my right fist into Red's shoulder to make him howl and bend over.
Then I take his arm at the wrist and step over it. Tightly straddling his shoulder, arm between my legs, and with one quick spin, I drop down on my back. Flipping Red along with me and we both end up down on the canvas. He's on his back, I'm sitting right beside. My legs across his chest, his arm between my thighs, and with a loud ROAR I drop back. Pulling at his wrist, pinning the back of his hand against my upper chest. I bridge up on my shoulders a bit, pressing my crotch against the back of his shoulder while pinning his body down with my legs, trapping him in a Cross Armbreaker.
LvK: Starr's going for the finish here!! She's got that hold locked in tight on Red's devastated shoulder!! She forced many submissions with this hold back in Steel Chicago! This could be it!
RP: I don't know, Larry. He's very close to the ropes! And also, Starr's such a little girl? She couldn't make him tap!
He may have a lot of size on me, but in this kinda hold, size does NOT matter at all! The crowd's on their feet as Red screams in pain. He bucks underneath my legs, and – unfortunately – Perle's right. We ARE very close to the ropes! And it doesn't take Red long to place one of his boots on the bottom rope, forcing a break...which he doesn't get, though.
Yet again I'm in my own world. A world in which the screams of pain from the opponent is a very lovely tune! Now the ref again, he's not agreeing. And my lovely partner doesn't agree either.
Starr! Release the hold! Come on! He's in the ropes!
"Lisa?"
ONE
"Lisa!"
TWO
"LISA!"
THREE
"LISA!! LET HIM GO!! STOP STOP STOP!" Pounding her fist against the top turnbuckle with every word
FOUR! LET GO!
Yelling out loud "LISA *BEEP*ING STARR!!! YOU WON'T LOSE THIS MATCH FOR US!!"
"FINE!"
I roar out as the ref, Linds and some of the fans convince me that being disqualified isn't the best way to end this and I let go of the hold just before the ref's count reaches five. I roll over to my hands and knees, pound the canvas with my right hand and then get up to my feet. Adjusting my shorts, then brushing my hair out of my face. Glaring at the ref through narrowed eyes, then looking at my partner, giving a little nod towards her. "Fine!"
I take a few steps back towards my corner as Linds reaches in for the tag, but once I'm halfway through the ring, I stop and turn back to Red. Grabbing for his mask to pull him up to his feet. Standing behind him and dragging him back to the middle of the ring. Reaching across the front of his neck with my right arm, my left hand goes down, grabbing his trunks. Getting him in an inverted Facelock in the middle of the ring.
LvK: Wait a moment. Is she setting up the Chicago Street Cutter? She...can't do that to the Enforcer, right?
RP: Why not? She already did everything she could to hurt him. And for a change this is something you'd actually find IN the rulebook! Not in Breaking Rules 101! Which, by the way, is available on shop.ftw.com and perlewrestling.edu for only 9.99!
LvK. How comes you're not complaining? What's wrong, Perle? Are you ill?
RP: Not at all! I just earned some respect for that chick! She's breaking the rules like a pro!
I take a deep breath as I bend my knees, and then, with a loud roar of effort, I straighten up and pull with my arms. I actually get the Enforcer's feet up off the canvas before twisting around to my right, dropping flat on my back and taking him down with me. Slamming his masked face first into the canvas, my shoulder and tensed bicep driven against his throat as I drop down with a version of my CSC.
Red's down, flat on his belly as I sit up. Dusting off my hands as the crowd's on their feet after hitting him with my finisher. Looking at Lindsay, who's...hopping up and down on the canvas like a 5 year old who just met Justin Bieber.
I push myself up to my feet, and to her surprise, don't go for the cover, but instead stride over to our corner. She stops hopping and looks at me as I hold my hand out for a tag. "Ehm...". She looks confused. She's so cute when she's confused! But finally she brings her hand out and smacks mine. Punky's still out of sight, so we might as well...
TAG!
"Time to finish him off!"
"But...you already did?!"
Smirking as I reach down and push my knee pad down off my right knee. "Nope, I didn't."
I'm a little confused when Lisa doesn't pin Red, but instead walks towards the corner for a tag. And the look on my face makes that quite obvious. If you can see past the blood, that is. The tag is made and I slowly climb into the ring, still not sure why my partner didn't just finish the match. But the confusion is pretty much all gone when she slides the pad off her knee.
"Hm, well, okay!"
Red's pretty much finished after the CSC – he hasn't moved since – and I'm usually not one to rub it in. But against the Countdown it might be a good idea to send a little message. And also, they busted me open!! AND he had his hands between my legs without permission!! Both being things I don't really like, and he's gonna pay for it.
I step up towards him as Lisa climbs out of the ring and gets ready to climb to the top rope. I quickly scan the crowd, looking for Megan, and I find a spot out there where the fans don't look at the ring, but at her...and back away in fear of being hit with that hammer-thingie. It's gonna take her a while to come back from there, but still there's no time to waste.
I step behind Red and pull him up to his feet, having him bent over in front of me, taking his left arm and putting it down between his legs before grabbing for the wrist from behind with my right hand. Then I bring my left arm up underneath his right one, cradling his neck and shoulder with that arm to get him in position.
LvK: The Dragon sets Red up for a Pumphandle Slam! And...look, Perle! Starr's going for the top rope!
RP: And Punky's nowhere to be seen! This...isn't good! I'm starting to worry here. The Enforcer's not looking too good and...where the *BEEP* is his partner?
LvK: Apparently she's hunting that ghost. If your translation earlier was correct, she told the little ghost to watch this. Well, it looks like the ghost IS watching! She should not have summoned her.
I have Red in Pumphandle position, Lisa's on the top rope. The ref looking left and right before wisely stepping backwards out of the way. Taking a deep breath, looking up at Lisa. And with a little nod, I grunt out in effort as I try to lift the heavier Enforcer up off his feet. Grimacing, my entire body tensed as I get him up and horizontally across my body. I can't hold him up there for very long, and I won't have to.
Lisa jumped off the top turnbuckle almost at the exact moment I lifted Red up. She comes flying through the air, her bared knee out towards Red as she comes down. And when she does, I drop down to my left knee. And within split seconds, Red's back comes down across my right thigh and knee while Lisa drives her knee down against his head.
The crowd groans, then roars in approval as we hit Red with a combination Pumphandle Backbreaker/Top Rope Kneedrop. Lisa rolls through after the impact and ends up on one knee, her hair hanging over her face and her gloved, right hand pressed against the canvas as the Enforcer crumples off my knee and to the canvas in a motionless heap.
LvK: This could be it!
RP: No! No way, no way! Where's Punky?!
She's still nowhere to be seen. I drop down to my knees and roll Red to his back. Laying my body across his, wrapping my arms around his legs and rolling to my back across his upper chest. Hooking both legs as I go for the pin, hearing the ref and the crowd count in unison.
ONE
TWO
...
THREE!!
The ref calls for the bell, the crowd cheers, and I release Red's legs and sit up next to him. My lower back still against his side. Looking down at my hands, seeing the blood on them as I must have checked if I'm still bleeding maybe once or twice too often. My face a mix of blood, sweat and hair. After a few seconds I brush the hair out of my face and wipe my bloody hands over my shorts before getting up to my feet.
The referee is actually nice enough to help me up to my feet, giving him a little smile as he takes my wrist. To his other side stands Lisa, a satisfied, kinda dirty grin across her face as she looks at out downed opponent. The crowd cheers again as the ref raises our arms. I let him hold them up for a few seconds before LEAPING at my partner. Giving her tight hug in the middle of the ring, while letting out a loud "YAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYY!!" which makes her wince.
We did it! We beat them!! It's over!! It's...uh oh...
My eyes grow as I see the crowd divides like the Red Sea. And a very angry looking purple haired woman comes racing through them. My hug breaks and I just stare at her like I've seen a ghost. Lisa sees the look on my face and quickly turns. But with a bit of a different look on her face. While I'm backing up, Lisa stands her ground, even taking a step towards the middle of the ring, growling and snarling at Punky to "Oh you want some more? COME ON IN AND GET IT!"
Lisa has never been one to back away from a fight. I'd love to give Megan a smack or two myself after she busted me open. But the match is over, the fighting is done for tonight, and the most important thing: she's got that Red Queen in her grasp. And I don't want to be hit by that. NOT. AT. ALL!
She keeps coming closer to the ring, and I tug on Lisa's arm
Come on, let's get outta here.
No reaction.
Lisa!
No reaction. And Punky's now hopping over the guard rail back to ringside.
Lisaaaaaaaaaaaa!!
Nothing!!
She's got a weapon!
I see that.
She doesn't even look at me!! Instead she stares down at Megan who's heading left and right outside the ring, that...THING in her hands. Looking like a caged Tigress.
I REALLY want to go now!! I got a headache, and she'd only make it worse!
Tugging harder on Lisa's arm, and with a pouty sounding "Fine!" she steps back with me and we both roll out of the ring at the opposite side of which the Purple Vixen slides in. I'm heading up the ramp, facing it, while dragging Lisa along with me who can't keep her eyes of Megan. But finally, eventually, we disappear behind the curtains.
And now I need a towel, at least one band-aid...and a beer!
thatgoddamnghostcxntthatcockthirstyfuckdollgonnafuckingbrainthatlittlepsychobitchIsweartoeverydarkgodlisteninggonnasplatterherheadlikearavenegg ...
Ah, the funny thoughts that run through your head when you're pelting up a steel ramp with your boots clanging like the march of grim death and a lead-loaded croquet mallet in your hands.
I run the crowd, quick as the dead, slamming past the grasping hands and gaping faces of the audience, seconds ahead of the Sportatorium security staff in their crisp Carolina blue polos surging up the stairs behind me to stop the drunken crowd from getting handsy and to stop me from crushing some ticket-holder's skull for getting in my fucking way.
No coherent thought.
Just her.
Just hammering Aika flat as a god-damn Far Side cartoon.
I hit the clear space I'd seen in the stands. The dark spot, where anything could lurk. The spot in the corner of the stage-side cheap seats where the lights don't hit, where no one was sitting but whatever was in the shadows, and I rage into the darkness, ready to fucking crush ...
... nothing. Because of course there's nothing there.
Of COURSE there's FUCKING NOTHING there.
That psycho BITCH. That mind-gaming little CHIMPFUCKER.
I'd been so god-damn worked up the whole match, waiting for something, staring at this one dark spot over and over, that all she'd had to do was get on the mic, SOMEWHERE in the fucking building, and I'd taken off like a greyhound after the fucking mechanical rabbit.
She wasn't up here in the stands. She wasn't on the stage.
She was just somewhere with her fucking mask on.
A sound like a car crash back in the ring drew an echoing "OOOOOOOH!" from the crowd, and I slowly turned around, staring over the heads of the cautiously advancing Sportatorium goons, their hands held up in cautious conciliation like zookeepers at feeding time who've realized the meat ran out.
My friend Reddy just got crunched.
The guy who trusted me to get out of my own fucking head and help him. The guy who ignored the shit Calli Quinn heaped on me and believed in me.
"Son of a BITCH," I snarl, unbleeped because I'm way the fuck up here where the cameras can't record me. Just as fast as I raced up here to do fucking nothing, I'm racing back.
I can't stop the three count.
But like Iron Man Downey Jr. said, if I can't save the world, I can damn sure avenge it.
I blast past the security staff in their polo shirts and slacks, slam a few drunks back into their seats with the ferocity of my passing, and shoulder-check a popcorn girl over the second row in a fountain of buttered kernels before I vault the railing.
The blondes are in there, glowing with their victory. Lanky Lindsay, bloodied but still bright as a daisy, is wisely trying to fall back, but lil' Lisa Starr is holding her ground. I stalk across the mats, my fury so intense that my teeth are grinding with a sound in my head like a drill bit twisting into concrete. Red crackling energy pulses at the edge of my vision, summer lightning flaring in crimson.
If Lisa Starr wants to stand in for Rowan ...
If she wants to take her place, here and now ...
"... then I will GLADLY crush your *BEEP*ING THICK CUBBY SKULL, LITTLE GIRL." I seethe, sliding into the ring under the bottom rope with the Red Queen so tight in my taped fist that my knuckles flare white as a desert bleached skeleton.
But then that boiling blood and seething adrenaline starts to ebb down the drain as Linds pulls Lisa out through the ropes on the other side. Starr's probably still casting her angriest and most dramatic looks at me, but I don't even see her anymore once she's out of my ring.
I do see Reddy, though.
I see the big good ol' boy who let me work out in his gym when I was down South, the man who made shrimp and grits for all us indy workers staying in the terrible little hostel in Bremen we were stuck in during the Euro Catch Wrestling Festival.
I go to help him up, and he staggers to his feet and shoves me back hard enough to send me into the ropes.
The audience gasps.
RP: Oh *BEEP*, that's a bad idea.
LvK: We ... could be in for some trouble, fans. The Red Enforcer clearly and RIGHTFULLY angry with Punky for what just transpired, but in the best of times that young woman is extremely unstable ... and these are not the best of times.
RP: And she has a big *BEEP*ing hammer. We gotta get someone down here.
Time slows for a second as my blood races in my ears, pounding like the high tide, and I hang back against the steel cables.
It's been a LONG time since I let someone put a shove on me like that without coming back at them hard enough to break their teeth loose.
My grip tightens on the Red Queen hard enough that the tape on my fists creaks.
... but just for an instant, and then guilt hangs my head down like a lead weight.
I move closer again, and Red shoves me back, but not as far. I move in one more time, and he doesn't resist as I take his arm and loop it around my shoulders to help him out of the ring, although tension vibrates him like a violin string.
"Sorry, Reddy," I murmur, low and secret as a confession. "I'll fix it. I'll fucking fix this so it never happens again."
He doesn't answer.
But he lets me help him all the way to the back, with the Enforcer on one arm and the Red Queen in my fist.
RP: ... and they're gone! We made it through a whole match with that psycho Punky AND that vindictive little wannabe Starr and the table didn't get smashed!
LvK: Don't count your carpenters before they've billed you, Rick. There's still a lot of action to come here on FTW: Second Coming!
RP: World-class shilling, van Keel. Do you sell razors, too?
LvK: You KNOW that I offer my endorsement to St. Olaf's Razors for Ice Fishermen - because you never know when a snow bunny will come out on the pond! But speaking of razors, tonight we'll see one of the sharpest and deadliest minds in wrestling -
RP: Beautiful segue, Morgan Freeman.
LvK: - trying to seize the inaugural FTW World Championship from the contender ... the beautiful, determined, enigmatic Emily Layne!
RP: Roll tape! An' cut those Southern yahoos out!
Footage Courtesy of Celebrity Deathmatch Entertainment Concepts, Inc.
Footage starts with the view of the New York City sports center arena from outside.
Christian Recanati: amiche ed amici, appassionati di wrestling, benvenuti dall arena di New York City dal vostro Christian Recanati.
Guido Pieda: e da Guido Pieda!
then switch inside the arena showing hundreds of cheering fans waving at the camera!
CR: Allora Guido, sei pronto? Come ti senti?
GP: prontissimo! Quando iniziano a menarsi?
CR: Stiamo per assistere ad un gran match, uno dei primi della nostra Emily Layne nel continente americano!
Image switches to Emily,in her locker room securing the belt around her waist,wearing shorts of jeans and a black top, hair free to loose over her shoulders.
CR: Ed eccola sui, sempre in formissima la nostra Emily! Vi ricordiamo la sua carriera, due volte campionessa italiana, campionessa europea, dei fantastici feud contro rivali del calibro di Queen Maya e Saraya Knight!
GP: stai parlando arabo, parliamo di cose interessanti, è mai stata con un calciatore?
CR: Hahaha! Ma noooo! Non è mica una velina!
Sadie is in her locker room too, wearing a black bikini, hair in a pony tails.
GP: e questa chi è?
CR: Ed ecco la sua avversaria! Si chiama Sadie Davis! Una ragazza che ha saputo costruirsi un nome ultimamente nel circuito del wrestling!
GP: non mi sembra abbia il fisico per lottare!
CR: Non ti far illudere dal fisico Guido! Questa ci sa fare!
GP: in che senso?
Sadie looks up to the monitor of her room,the screen shows a man appearing in the aisle.
Its the commissioner of the shows who is ready to make a special announcement.
GP: E lui chi è? L arbitro?
CR: Non proprio, lui è Ben Whip, il boss dello show che stiamo per vedere.
Sembra che abbia da dirci qualcosa.
He says: " I decided the ring is far too small to contain the bitter hatred these two ladies have for each other. So, Sadie and Emily tonight you will participating in a no holds barred, falls count anywhere match. Nothing is off limits!" The crowd ercupts with excitement "And since you fans wants to see it, the match starts...NOW!"
CR: Oh Oh! Questa è proprio una bella sorpresa Guido!
GP: non ho capito nulla, che vuol dire fol count eniuer?
CR: È una stipulazione particolare di match, praticamente l'incontro potrà finire in qualsiasi parte del arena!
GP: Anche in bagno!
CR: anche in bagno! Aspetta aspetta, guarda guarda, sembra che Sadie non sia molto felice!
Sadie is shocked. she moves out of the locker room and walks towards Emily room.
CR: sembra che Sadie stia cercando Emily negli spogliatoi
GP: ma si può??? Cosa sta succedendo??? Aaaahhhh!!!!
Emily slams one of her boot against Sadie nape,makin her stumble into a Refreshement Stand.
GP: Ma questa è una rissa bella e buona!
CR: Si Guido, questo è il significato di NHB Falls Count Everyhere! Si può fare di tutto dappertutto!!!
Sadie grabs a metal napkins dispenser and lifts it up above her head but Emily spear her into the counter of the stand.
CR: Attenzione, Sadie ha in mano un dispenser di fazzolettini ma no! Emily reagisce con una perfetta spear!!!
GP: Non usare parole difficili Christian! Mi è già difficile seguire il match!
CR: Mica solo per te!!!
Sadie steals a crutch to a old lady watching the match
GP: Ma che fa??? é illegale!!! Qualcuno chiami i carabinieri!!!
CR: Ma non ci sono i carabinieri a New York!
GP: Da quello che so io, i carabinieri ci sono sempre!
Sadie attempts to hit Emily with the crutch but italian lifts the metal dispenser, the crutch hits the dispenser with a loud clang
GP: Ahiaaaa!!! Che botta!!!
CR: Un impatto pazzesco Guido!
Emily and Sadie rolls across the floor,throwing punches.
GP: ma sei sicuro che sia un match di wrestling???
Sadie stomps Emily, then straddle her back and use a shirt to choke Emily over the counter of a Souvenir Merchandise Stand but Emily drives her elbow back and gets free.
CR: Ottimo controattacco di Emily che riesce a liberarsi della pericolosa presa di sadie!!!
Emily whips side into the Souvenir stand, Sadie s body ends inside the stand.
CR: Irish whip!!!
Emily and Sadie faces each other, the counter of the stand between them as Emily grabs Sadie s hair and stun her forehead into the fake championship belt which is laying on the counter.
GP: AAAAAAHHHH CHE MALE!!!
CR: un impatto incredibile! deve essersi rotta il naso!!!
Sadie whips Emily toward the men restroom of the arena
GP: LO AVEVO DETTO!!! SONO UN GENIO!!!
Sadie slams Emily face into one of the urinary stalls, then Emily does the same to Sadie while a scared man appears from one of the door and runs away in terror.
GP: AHAHAAHAHHAHA Ma chi è quello?Huh
Emily slams her shoulder into Sadie belly, gripping on her rear and bullying Sadie body into the head to toe mirror behind her, both end down on their butts.
CR: Emily sbatte Sadie contro l'enorme specchio del bagno!!!
GP: non dirmi che cade, ti prego fa che non cada!!!
The head to toe mirror suddenly falls down, vertically before crushing down shattering in hundreds pieces of broken glass.
Emily eyes are wide opened, Sadie is crouching down, her hands covering her ears.
The bathroom becomes a chamber of horror!
CR: OH MIO DIO! OH MIO DIO!!!
GP: Ecco appunto! qualcuno ora le fermera giusto???
CR: credo di no Guido, nessuna regola, nessuna pietà!
GP: ma sono almeno sette anni di sfiga!!!
Sadie grabs Emily by the hair and throw her down but while she falls, Emily hooks Sadie ankle and both crushes down over the dangerous floor!!
GP: GUARDAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!
Emily wriggles in pain with Sadie over her, camera panes to Emily back which has a piece of glass pointing on her rib.
GP: sento dolore anche io!!! Qualcuno le tolga quel pezzo di specchio!!!
CR: Probabilmente è l'incontro più brutale mai trasmesso dai nostri teleschermi!!!
Sadie is about to pin Emily when Emily grabs a piece of glass and hits Sadie belly with it.
CR: OOOHHHH HAI VISTO GUIDO?Huh?
GP: Pensavo che certe cose non si facessero più dal medioevo!
Sadie staggers back outside the restroom, Emily follows her and hits a roundhouse kick on Sadie face.
CR: Splendido calcio volante di Emily che colpisce il viso sanguinante di Sadie! Nonostante la stanchezza Emily è ancora in ballo e può vincere il match!
GP: io sarei già in obitorio!
Sadie charges into Emily's body only to get back body dropped into the steep of stairs behind Emily.
CR: E guarda questo! Perfecct back body drop della campionessa italiana che fa cadere Sadie giù dalle scale con un capitombolo pazzesco!
GP: l'avevo detto io, sette anni di sfiga!
Emily stomps Sadie before unwrap her belt and starts to whip Sadie s back with it.
CR: Emily non da nessun segno di cedimento e usa la propria cintura come frusta per colpire la schiena e il sedere di Sadie che non sembra abbia la forza di muoversi!
GP: ehm, mi sa che dovrei seguire più spesso questo tipo di eventi! Altro che motomondiale!
Camera panes to Sadie whimpering face, she is in tears as she nods to the ref.
CR: SI ARRENDE! SADIE SI ARRENDE! è FINITA, EMILY VINCE QUESTO MATCH SENZA LIMITI!!!
The ref motions his arms signaling the end of the match.
Emily uses the belt to choke Sadie while the ref is still motioning his hands and the crowd is going nuts.
GP: Ma non era finita?
CR: si ma sembra che Emily abbia un conto in sospeso con Sadie!
Emily is celebrated by the fans while Sadie body lays down.
CR: Grazie a tutti amici telespettatori e alla prossima!
GP: Buonanotte e buone botte!
CR: e questa da dove è ti è uscita?
GP: ero un appassionato di Celebrity Death Match!
RP:I'm SO GLAD we found a way to get more Sadie into this show.
LvK: Yes, she's a colorful and unique performer.
RP: We should get her to come out and do guest commentary. Or maybe we could just drop things off the table and she could bend over to pick them up.
LvK: Classy, Perle. So the determination and guts of Emily Layne are beyond question ... but what of the leader of the Countdown, the mysterious and dangerous Callista Quinn?
RP: Good question, Larry, I dunno how we're gonna answer it in the time we have. Oh, wait, I've got an idea: ROLL TAPE!
Footage courtesy of the Quinn Collection
April 19, 2011
18:45 JST
Nagoya, Japan
I sat on the hard plastic bench, lacing up my boots, wearing a big comfy black hooded sweatshirt over my ring gear. As always before a match, I had headphones on to drown everything out, to centre my focus. Today, my mental soundtrack was accompanied by Beethoven's Fifth, specifically the iconic first movement, allegro con brio.
I'd already done the rounds of introducing myself, repeating the few phrases of greeting in Japanese that I'd memorised, (reverting to English for introductions to my fellow foreigners.) It would do for now, but I really did need to learn the language better.
I'd been touring with JWP, who'd had a show in relatively nearby Shizuoka last night. Tonight was a break before the weekend shows in and around Tokyo, but Oz Academy happened to need a fill-in. I was that fill-in. It was...appropriate, I thought, given who I was wrestling.
I'd first met "La Santa", Gabriela Dos Santos, in the first year in my career at a show in London. She was one of the giants of women's wrestling. Not literally, of course. She stood a mere 5'2, and weighed just a smidgen over eight stone. But she was a big name wherever she went. America. Japan. Germany. Mexico. Anywhere you had women's professional wrestling, you knew La Santa.
She was scheduled to wrestle Kay O'Connor, then our champion, but Kay was rather fond of drink, and following her previous night's libations, had had an unfortunate run-in with some constables that ended with her in the dock. I was asked to fill in.
I didn't expect to win, of course, but I was able to get some sequences of control...or so I thought. I won't go too deep into it, but I came away feeling like I wasn't that far away from greatness. What an idiot I was. A couple years later, I'd end up wrestling the famed Spanish wrestler again in Calgary, and I'm ashamed to say it, but I was perhaps less respectful of my veteran opponent than I should have been.
In retrospect, it was obvious what had happened in London: She'd gone easy on me to give the punters a better show then stretching me from pillar to post would have been. Two years later, I thought I was much better than I'd been two years ago, (which was true,) so I'd surely be more than a match for her, (which was not.)
La Santa was perfectly willing to ease up to ensure the paying customers got a good show, but that didn't mean she was going to listen to shite from the jumped-up girl I still was. I got more lessons that night than I had in months of time in Manchester, and by no means did my fellow northerners go easy on new girls. It ended with me in the middle of the ring, pounding at the canvas with my hand as I screamed out my submission.
I don't know which match embarrasses me more, but they both rank pretty highly on my list.
We had a third match four years later in Chicago. Beforehand, I introduced myself to her MOST respectfully. I don't know if she remembered me or not, but she made no allusions to it, and responded in kind. The match WAS close that night, and I was no rookie anymore. If she had tried to take it easy, I'd have known.
So, once again, I was filling in. The match was something of a first, as Mayumi Ozaki famously didn't like to pay the extra cost for foreigners to wrestle for her. She'd made an exception for La Santa, (everyone did,) and since I was only being brought from 150 miles down the road, my trans expenses weren't a budget-buster either.
Ozaki, via an impromptu translator, explained that La Santa was being prepared for a championship match against the newly-crowned Oz Academy Openweight Champion, Aja Kong, in ten days. (I later learned that it was Ozaki herself who Kong beat, which explained a lot. I got the message. I was a tune-up match. I smiled respectfully and nodded when I needed to.
Later, after shaking Gabriela's hand once again, she said, "Good to see you again. I've been hearing good things about you in JWP."
"Sounds like the Japanese all right," I said jokingly, "You only ever hear good things about people they loathe. Not like they're letting ME anywhere near their title, unlike some."
"The old barriers are coming down," Gabriela said. "They have to. You'll see."
I nodded and went off by myself. I hadn't the tenure or the political clout in JWP. I as much as knew that if any foreigner were to get a shot, it would be that idiotic American who still carried around the title belt of a promotion that went defunct over six years ago.
Wrestling in Japan hadn't been without it's upsides, and it WAS lucrative, but I had to admit it wasn't all I'd hoped it would be. Maybe it was better a decade or two ago. Maybe it would be again. But the bitter pill I had to swallow wasn't going away.
Bah. Thoughts for another night. I had a "tune-up" to prepare for.
*two hours later*
'It was her own fault.' That thought resonated through my mind as I pushed her forward, dropping down onto my arse, dropping her back-first onto the mat once more. 'Her own bloody fault.' I thought as she slumped down. I rolled her onto her side, pushing her legs away, and I sat there, looking at her lying there in a heap. I reached for her leg.
It was just going to be another match. I'd show up, wrestle, try to win, and win or lose, I'd get paid. One night among thousands. Nothing special. Nothing unique. I grabbed hold of her left ankle, pulling it upwards, wrapping the knee around the back of my head, holding onto her boot with my left hand, and her thigh with my right. I heard the announcers call out 'STURETCHU MUFFLAH'
'Oh sure', I thought sarcastically. 'THAT "L" you can manage, but the ones in my name...' One more gripe among many. In Japan, I'd wrestled as "Princess Quinn" because they claimed to find "Callista" too hard to pronounce. It sounded like "Princess Queen", to me, which was just ridiculous.
Before the match, I'd heard that called, and actually been surprised at the amount of streamers tossed into the ring. Maybe Gabriela genuinely HAD been hearing positive feedback about me. Still, as was generally the case when my mood improved, someone else ruined it by opening their bloody mouth.
As we met in the middle of the ring, the ref gave us instructions first in "English", then Spanish, then more loudly in Japanese. If his Spanish was as poor as his English, then La Santa could be forgiven for talking to me during them. "Let's give them a good show," she said.
A moment after she said that, a smile crossed my face, one that didn't make it to my eyes, "Just a tune-up match," I answered, turning and heading back to my corner. I'd never cared for masks, and I'd never wanted to wear one during a match, but I wanted one right now because I'd barely managed to turn around before the rage erupted on my face.
Good show. Good show. Good bloody show. Like I was still that fucking rookie she toyed with? I thought I'd earned a little respect in Chicago. Apparently not. I looked up and saw that I was gripping the top rope in my corner with both hands. Fans on that side of the ring were pointing at me. I forced my facial expression to smooth out, and tried to find a semblance of calm.
I didn't exactly achieve that calm, but I got to where I needed to be: that head-space where a plan comes into being. La Santa was most famous for her high-flying, but really, what I'd learned in our matches was that it was her technical prowess that was really impressive. Trying to ground her might take her aerial attacks out of play, but she was just as effective on the ground.
I played it cagey. If she tried to wrestle close-in, I'd match with her, and if she started to get the advantage, I'd use my greater power (and her lesser size) to force a break. If she tried to pick up the pace, I'd take a powder, getting out of the way, or out of the ring altogether. It was arguably the opposite of a "good show", and the crowd, normally not so easily incensed as your Western crowds, was letting me know they didn't much appreciate my tactics.
I stopped to jaw with a few of them, and as I'd hoped, the crowd noise rose. When I saw the ones in the front row look up, I dove to the side, rolling on my shoulder as La Santa crashed into the barricade where I'd been just a split-second ago. Lifting my smaller opponent up off of the ground, I said, "Time for that 'good show' I promised," before hurling her face-first into the ringpost.
In matches where I'd totally outclassed my opponent, I really did tend to just wrap it up quickly. Whether it was to avoid even memory of that match in London I couldn't say, but I never saw any advantage to myself or to the other person for me to drag it out any.
This match, though, was different. First, systematically hurting every part of her. Slams and bars. Suplexes and stretches. I didn't let up. I didn't relax. If she wasn't in a painful hold, she was being prepared for something equally painful. A piledriver. A brainbuster. An inverted atomic drop because fuck her.
I never went for a pinfall. When I had her in a crossface, and her resistance was next to nil, I loosened up a bit and said, "I think I'd accept a submission at this point."
"Go to hell," she spat out. "Pin me and choke on it."
It was a good idea, so I spent the next few minutes putting her into and out of chokes. If she ever felt close to passing out, I'd let go of the hold. If the ref lifted an arm and she didn't respond the first time, I'd push my way in between them, pushing or kicking Gabriela out of the ring, earning the ire of the ref and the fans alike.
Speaking of spectators, I noticed Ozaki herself standing in the entryway, looking daggers in my direction. I smiled and went on about my business. At one point, I lifted my opponent up in a bear hug, (one not held all that tightly,) and marched about the ring, displaying her like a trophy. Still, Gabriela groaned in the hold. Leaning forward, she murmured. "Do as you wish. I will never give you a submission."
"I know you won't, love," I answer, smiling. "I've moved on to the next best thing." I pushed her forward, dropping her down onto her back, then pulled her leg up over my shoulders. I wrenched the stretch muffler for every bit of effort I could, bouncing on the mat and bending at the knees as I did. At first Gabriela tried to keep her mouth shut, but she couldn't for long. I'd targeted this leg earlier. Now I was wrenching that knee painfully. She screamed out, but as the ref dropped to his knees to check on her, she shook her head no.
Good. Much as I'd like a submission back, I thought this would be even better. Eventually, body gave before mind did. I felt something give, and La Santa's screams echoed throughout the arena, before they were silenced by unconsciousness. I dropped her onto the ring, the crowd actually enraged to the point where two young men threw coins at me.
Just two, of course. Most Japanese fans would never think of doing that. But still, it was an achievement nonetheless. The ref was looking to Ozaki, but I spared him the need by immediately walking out of the ring and back up the aisle. He gathered his wits, and began to count. Ozaki looked on the verge of attacking me herself as I passed her and said, "Good tune-up."
The record will show that in four matches against "La Santa" Gabriela Dos Santos, I was never once victorious. The record is incomplete. I may not have won a match. But did I beat her? You be the judge.
Ozaki ended up putting Ran Yu-Yu in the match against Aja, (astonishingly, she actually won,) and while it wasn't Gabriela's last match, it was her last match for over six months, at which point she competed in a few trios matches in CMLL before hanging up her boots for good.
I put Beethoven's NINTH symphony on repeat for the entire drive back to Tokyo.
LvK: And that woman is now our commissioner.
RP: Jimmy Two-Tons? Yeah, it's Perley. I'm changin' my bet. Two large AGAINST Quinn. 'cuz I just saw that *BEEP* she pulled on the commish! I KNOW IT WAS BROADCAST EARLIER. I WASN'T WATCHIN' THEN. JUST DO IT.
LvK: And let's see what our cameras captured between Callista Quinn and the incendiary Megan Dow -
Earlier Today
I arrive at the arena, pulling my bag behind me as I do. It's a light day, today. Some promo work for the upcoming PPV, then probably hit the gym for a couple hours. But I've brought my gear with me. It's the second thing they beat into you as a rookie, (right after "This hurts. A lot,") always have your gear ready. Never know what opportunities you might miss if you don't have it with you. I'm clad in black leather boots, blue jeans and the ubiquitous black Countdown hoodie, (on sale at countdownmerch.com, shop.ftw.com, and any third-party vendors we could intimidate into carrying them,) and a pair of black sunglasses. I've got a bulky set of headphones over my ears. Nothing's playing out of them, I just like the excuse to ignore people. mtc
callistaxqI open the door and step into the backstage area, taking my sunglasses off and tucking them in the hoodie's pocket, careful to put them on top of rather than underneath the heavy mag-lite already in there. I take a quick look around at who's here.
I showed up at the arena so early that the staff was rightfully nervous and hesitant to let me in. Fortunately, I had my FTW staff lanyard and at least one of the night janitors leaving recognized me ("Oh, she's that crazy chick. The one with the purple hair, not the other one."). That gave me time to find out how to get into the rafters and clamber around up there, muttering to myself and scattering handfuls of adhesive-backed thumbtacks along the rafters in the dark. Let's see that daffy bitch get up here and do her little Crow act now. Then I roamed the back halls for a while, getting familiar with the place - I think I was here on a tour with Backfist Wrestling once, but that was years ago - and then finally I run out of ways to pace around muttering so I just take up a spot in the little workout area.
Since I'm the first one there I have to set the heavy bag up myself, snarling as I hang it on the hook in the backstage area. Wearing a ribbed cotton Joker tank (the Miller one where he's got a Batarang in his eye and he's broken his own neck, laughing HA HA HA HA HA HA) and a pair of cargo shorts, my morning flannel tied loosely around my waist, I give my fists a once-over with athletic tape and unload on the bag, thudding into it over and over, the rhythm of my fists letting me lose myself. I don't even hear the door open, but I feel the sunlight fall across me. I look over my shoulder, narrow my eyes, and then turn back to the bag, sweat running down me as I unload an even angrier combination than before, snarling to myself as I finish with a heavy hook that sets the bag to reeling.
Glancing over at my teammate pounding away at the heavy back, I purse my lips, frowning. I saw that look. Well fine. I pull the hoodie up and over my head, revealing the white cotton tank-top underneath, setting it down on my bag, and moving to take a position on an unoccupied bit of mats (which just so happens to be kinda near the heavy bag, somewhere you can't possibly miss me,) facing away from you. Not wanting to work up a sweat before my promo, I slip into a t'ai chi ch'uan routine, moving gracefully through forms, maintaining careful balance as I slip from position to position.
I watch you approach through a mist of sweat - I have a promo scheduled too, sometime, but I've never given a fuck if I look like a dripping maniac. It just helps me sell more of the Fiery Volatile Psychopathci Brutalist shirts. I deliver a few more combinations, low and then high, and then I start to throw in Muay Thai as you go through the elaborate forms of the taiji. I snarl louder, throwing my elbows into the bag, clasping it and driving my knees up into it. You've got your back to me, and I'm supposed to rush up and make the first move,but I'm not Sadie. I am, however, as noisy as a gorilla testing Samsonite luggage. "RNNRAH!" I roar, jumping to grab the hook with both hands as I SLAM both knees up into the bag.
I lift my hands, slowly, turning slightly at the waist before sliding my left foot forward, my weight still balanced on my right foot, but shifting forward as I bend the elbows and turn to the right, then lift my left hand to eye level, palm downward, sweeping my right arm in an arc. "RNNRAH!" I hear behind me. My lips curl upward slightly, but I continue through the form, turning, my eyes sweeping past you as I pull my hands in towards my midsection, bending gently at the knees.
I slither down off the bag, landing on my battered Vans. I shake my fists out, the knuckles tingling and a little sprung from the harsh working-over, and I slide back a couple of steps. My eyes slide over you, going through your forms and being all smugly serene. My lip curls in a sneer as I turn sideways and lash out with a superkick, bantaming forwards and thrusting my right leg out as I arch my body into a wide V, hammering my foot right into the bag's goofy cross-eyed smiley face drawn on with Sharpie. *SMACK!* I bounce off, taking a few breaths, and put my hands on my hips, looking over at you for a few long quiet moments. "You oughtta open your chakras more," I add, deadpan.
"And your midichlorian count is low," I deadpan back, "You should eat more fibre," not missing a beat with the form, before finishing it up in a simple cat-stance. I practice t'ai chi ch'uan because it has been medically proven to aid in balance, and enhance psychological health, (though for you, that might be a bug rather than a feature.) That does not mean I've suddenly become a Taoist, or devotee of hokey religions of any origin. I stand up straight and look your way. "Doing alright, Meggers?"
I snort because you can make me laugh even when I'm blackly furious. That's always annoyed me. "If I eat any more fiber, Red threatened to get a biohazard shutdown order for the Countdown's bathroom," I manage to half-grin before I turn back towards the bag, staring at the stupid goofy face on it for a few long moments before I punch him again between the eyes, making the steel hook clank, and turn back to face you. "Why was I the only one after Rowan?" I finally spit like something nasty that's been stuck behind my teeth for a few days. "SHE cost me that match. And she's still running around, free as fucking air, ready to Looney Toons her way into my business again. OUR business." I step forward, my taped fist socking my open palm, *smek*. "We ALL shoulda been after her."
I give a shake of my head at what literally is toilet humour. I usually have to work my way down to the gutters of my mind. You seem to inhabit that area naturally. "Because the rest of us were focused on the task at hand," I say, jaw setting a bit as I metaphorically bite my tongue on a particular follow-up to that. Expressing too much frustration with you will be counter-productive. "Rowan is a distraction. The next step is the title. When you," I start, again biting off words, revising them on the fly, "When your match went poorly, the job was to soften up Emily for Sunday." There. That was neutrally said. "Asking why we were all headed for the ring is like an American tourist in London complaining about everyone driving on the wrong side of the road."
'Heh, that's a good one. Got to write that....wait, S*BEEP*, I said that aloud'
My eyes don't miss much on that lovely ice-carved face of yours after all these years. The little smug glitter in your eyes when you're thinking you're better than everyone in the room. The way you lift your chin when you're inwardly toasting your own bon mot. The way your jaw sets when you're trying to sound diplomatic in order to manipulate someone. I turn and lace a punch into the bag. "Emily is SOFTENED. She's fucking TENDERIZED. If I'd hit her with anything else she'd have been listed as fucking Kobe beef. ROWAN is the god-damn problem." I swing another hook into the bag, a low and nasty shot that'd hit just under the floating rib. "You told us, Gemma n' me, that we were doing this for a fucking REASON," I hiss, and drive another jab into the bag.
"And that we were a fucking TEAM. I don't remember being told that we were doing this so we could play Arn and Tully for you to fucking win gold in a league with no tag belts." I snarl, and snatch the back of the bag with my left hand, yanking it into a right forearm smash that'd hit right around the throat. "ROWAN disrespected us. You have Emily in the ring, tonight, with nowhere to fucking go, surrounded by us and still fucked up from what I did to her back and neck. ROWAN should be who we went after. If we'd gone after HER, Red wouldn't have gotten his fucking shoulder cranked off." The idiot. " This is supposed to be about US," I growl the word and piston my knee into the bag, leaving it swinging as I turn back to you. "ISN'T it?"
In a soft, low voice, one you probably know means that I'm furious, I answer, "'Us'?" Narrowing my eyes, I step forward, gently laying my right hand on your left shoulder. "I may be arrogant, egotistical, manipulative," I say, giving that shoulder a gentle squeeze, "all the elements that go into a properly megalomaniacal villain," I step forward, tilting my face down a bit as I gently press my chest up against yours so our eyes stay locked...and then I reach behind and seize hold of a handful of purple hair, yanking your head backwards and saying, "But I can fucking count."
I let go of your hair, stepping back to create a bit of separation, raising my voice and saying, "The rest of US were headed to the ring! YOU were the one who felt disrespected by Rowan! Just like YOU were the one who picked Rowan as the target for US to make our debut on. Do you recall that, Megan? I said 'You know these girls better than me. Pick someone good enough that it'll send a message, but not so good she'll be a problem.' Well? That message seems to have gotten a bit garbled. As for 'respect'..." I snort, shaking my head. "We get disrespected every time we walk out there. It's what we bloody signed up for. You want 'respect'? Start following the rules and telling the marks what lovely people they are."
"But if you're in this for US, don't you dare disrespect your teammates by charging off quixotically after your personal windmill and have the gall to bitch at me for not hitching the rest of the team to you. I will quite simply not have it!"
When you touch me I tense up, but not too much. But then you grab a handful of my sweat-matted violet hair, loose and wild down my shoulders, and as you yank my head back my lips skin back from my teeth in a snarl. My fists clench at my sides, my forearms standing out like steel cables. When you let go of me, my head snaps forward, purple hair hanging in my face and hiding the burning fury of my eyes. The point about Rowan stings, visibly. I picked Rowan Chance for personal reasons, to try to exorcise myself of a personal demon, but picking her was just as bad a choice as picking me would have been. Like me, Rowan is relentless, fearless, and merciless. Like me, Rowan is fucking crazy. I take that lash as something I've earned - but the rest makes me go stock still.
My fists are lax at my sides and my back almost slumped until you snap at me. You won't have it. You simply won't have it. My heavens, Horatio, it shan't be had. I bolt forward, quick as a hungry ghost, my hands coming up to cradle your cheeks roughly and my thumbs pressing in brutally hard just below your eyes as I yank your face to mine. I wonder how well you remember SPARK, and how I almost put Gemma's eyes out with my thumbs. "WE were supposed to be changing WRESTLING. WE were supposed to be a MOB, and that means if someone fucks with you YOU FUCK WITH THEM RIGHT BACK AND TWICE AS HARD!" I snarl, my voice cracking in my fury. "WE ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE YOUR PERSONAL GOD DAMN GOON SQUAD, QUINN, NO MATTER HOW FUCKING BAD YOU WANT GOLD!" I shove back roughly from you before you can decide I'm enough of a threat to come at me, and I back away until I bump into the heavy bag - and I whip around, smashing my fist into it and setting it swinging. I wrap my arms around the bag, clasping it, and almost hang on it, finally looking as tired as I am as all that rage drains from my head to my shoes. "I guess it doesn't fucking matter," I finally say after a long quiet. "Tonight we will get you your fucking belt and I will take care of fucking Rowan Chance." I sigh, pushing my forehead into the bag. I'm open to you hitting me, but frankly at this point, I'd fucking welcome a little mindless violence.
"And that'll be fucking that."
My bio in FTW's 'Talent' section reads 'grew up fighting on the mean streets of Salford, England.' It sounds much better than 'raised by two university professors, moved to a decent city when she was two.' When I start to get angry, I forget to pepper my speech with slang and start slipping into Received Pronunciation. When you push forward, I flinch back, but when you catch me, my eyes go wide as you press your thumbs up against my orbital bones. My right hand slips into the pocket of my jeans, slender fingers slipping through the brass knuckles. My teeth clench and my muscles grow taut. Calm. Must be calm. Maintain order. Maintain tact. Maintain diplo-"OF COURSE IT FUCKING MATTERS YOU PURPLE-HEADED GIT!" And then when I really lose my shit, the slang works its way back in.
"HOW THE BLOODY HELL DO WE CHANGE WRESTLING FROM THE FUCKING MIDCARD? DO THE HORSEMAN CHANGE WRESTLING IF ARN'S PROTECTING RIC'S WESTERN STATES HERITAGE BELT YOU DIMWITTED COW? DOES THE NWO CHANGE WRESTLING IF HOLLYWOOD HOGAN IS SPRAYPAINTING THE TELEVISION TITLE? YOU CHANGE WRESTLING FROM THE TOP! IF YOU HADN'T BEEN SO GODDAMNED OBSESSED WITH YOUR EX, I WOULDN'T HAVE TO FUCKING WORRY ABOUT THAT TOP, CUZ IT'D BE THE TWO OF US RIGHT FUCKING THERE!" I say, chest heaving up and down as I shout myself a bit hoarse. Lovely, and me with a promo coming up. I clench my fist, considering hitting you, but I force myself to look away, settling for taking a chunk out of the plaster in the cheap gym wall by hurling the brass knuckles into it at high speed.
I take a deep breath, then another, saying in a softer voice, "The thing about obsessive types is, they don't LOSE their fixations." Unfortunately. "We could have dealt with her as a group afterwards. Instead, you're fighting Rowan, and Gemma and Red have to deal with the blondtards, and Red's not at 100%. This is...." I struggle to find a word that truly encapsulates the situation... "NON-OPTIMAL."
I turn my head from where it's pillowed cozily against Mr. Heavy Bag and despite everything, I actually have to fight the urge to grin a little. It's been a long time since you shouted at me properly, and even longer since you let loose with a "git". You whip your brass knuckles into the wall and I DO grin a little, then, as I calculate exactly how close I just came to getting my jaw broken. Of course ... that wouldn't necessarily have STOPPED me, and then FTW would've been REALLY short for tonight's show after someone hosed all the blood out from back here. You take deep calming breaths - and so do I, pranayana breathing and letting my eyes close. I look like I'm slow dancing with Mr. Heavy Bag, swaying gently at the end of his short chain and hook with my arms wrapped around him.
Like most of the people I dance with, he's probably just happy I'm not hitting him. "Yeah. It ain't great," I say finally, encapsulating not just the situation we're in tonight but ... a lot of things. "Maybe we oughtta ... " I start, and then stop, shaking my head as I snap my teeth together. I wave my taped fist, shaking that idea off. "Fuck it. We'll deal with it an' ... shit'll work out the way it works out." I grin and set myself in a familiar stance by the bag, letting it go and moving back - bouncing on the balls of my feet with my left foot forward, my left arm up and bent sharply up at the elbow, fist curled into a light claw with my right fist chambered at my hip, I do my famous terrible Bruce Lee impression. "Not tense - but READY. Not thinking - but DREAMING."
What really makes me grin is how much you hate it when I do my Bruce Lee impression.
It's one of the many reasons I don't train against my teammates. When emotions get involved, good or bad, control becomes more difficult. Gemma and I have lost more money due to injuries we've inflicted on each other than from getting rolled while falling down drunk in Wales. I don't even want to THINK what would happen if you and I "sparred". Then you do your fucking Bruce Lee impression and I groan audibly. "You'll pardon me if I don't accept 'dreaming that shit'll work out' as a suitable plan," I say sourly. "Ehhh. As you say, fuck it." I walk over towards where I flung the metal knuckles, retrieving 'Plan B' from the drywall. "Gotta go cut my promo," I say, heading back to my bag and saying, "Best of luck tonight."
"See, now you're on the trolley," I grin, and lash out with a series of tiger claws to the bag, heavy leather smacks ringing out, driving it back until I finally step aside, letting it swing wildly with the chain clanking desperately. "When in doubt, fuck it." I shake my hands out and bow my head to you as you get your bag. "Yeah, you too, Calli-san. Anata no gādo o iji." Bet you haven't heard that one since we last toured Osaka. I watch you disappear, stalking off, and I take a long few breaths. At least now I know you're as pissed off as I am, even if it's for all the wrong reasons. I look back over my shoulder at the bag, still swinging on its chain - and then I lash back at it with another superkick.
*SMACK-CLORNK!*
There's the wrench of metal as I superkick the hook out of the wall and drop the bag with a thud to the floor. Sighing, I move to the wall and pick up the Red Queen from where she was tucked in a corner. I swing the lead-loaded croquet mallet over my shoulder, dig my vaporizer out of my pocket and click the button, the LED glowing a soft red. Inhaling a long puff of clove vapor, I let it drift out of my nose like an angry dragon. I glance around before I stalk off down the halls.
They're not gonna furiously pace themselves, after all.
The instant I leave the room, all expression disappears from my face. I'll keep my guard up, all right. I've got to. As you Americans like to say, I face threats both foreign and domestic. And unsuitable plans are quite simply something I don't do. Time to get a bit of "help" from the unlikeliest source of all....
RP: Yeah, Jimmy Two-Tons? Put it back on Quinn. YES, I JUST WATCHED THE SECOND PART OF THE VIDEO. SHADDUP.
LvK: Fans, the action will be intense and brutal tonight, as these two women vie for the premiere title of the unique FTW organization. But speaking of brutality, now we're about to see things take a turn ... for the dark.
RP: Oh, screw this. I'm gonna head to the back. You can call this match Joey Styles-style, van Keel.
LvK: Man up, Rick. We'll be seeing an all-out war between the dangerous and disquieting Aika and the always explosive Gemma Rox! But first, I'm told we have some further comments from Callista Quinn.
RP: Oh god, I hope she didn't hear me betting against her ...
On the large screen in front of the fans, and on the screens of everyone watching at home, (or in the portions of windows not advertising dodgy Russian Viagra knock-offs on the screens of assorted illegal streamers,) darkness appears. After a few moments, a bright light flashes on, then pulls back.
It's Callista Quinn's ubiquitous Mag-Lite, now held at chest level to illuminate the woman's face from below. A microphone rises up into the shot, and she begins to speak. "Emily Layne..."
*Ten minutes ago*
I love being in the main event, but I hate waiting for the final match to arrive. Everyone has their own pre-match rituals, be it talking with your mates, a particular warm-up routine, (I think Megan channels Orwell and does a Two Minutes Hate on Rowan Chance,) but the point is there's this time that has to pass.
When it's just me, I'd do some stretches followed by some t'ai chi movements, then I'd watch matches of my opponent, try to get a feel for them, delving past their strengths and weaknesses to get down to the nitty gritty of how they move, how they think, and how they wrestle. But with TV, and with all that comes with leading Countdown, I've got all this time to kill, but not enough to pass it the way I want to. It's an annoying conundrum.
I'm sitting in a corner of the locker room, the hood of my sweatshirt pulled up over my head. Back leaned up against the wall, I sit there, watching a match on my phone, (the TV I kicked into oblivion not having been replaced yet, naturally,) but instead of watching Layne, I'm watching my two Countdown cohorts proceed to piss away the tag match against Lisa and Lindsay. Barring the odd DQ, it's the second loss Countdown has suffered in FTW. As with the first, this comes when Megan allows herself to be distracted.
I'd like to be dispassionate about the result, (after all, it's not like it affects ME,) but I shake my head nonetheless. That is a situation that will need to be addressed. It will need to be addressed later, though, because tonight is about more important things.
I make my way to the shooting area, nodding to the production crew before approaching the interviewer. "Two minutes!" the producer says as the interviewer adjusts his tie as he coughs, trying to clear his throat.
I hold my hand out, saying, "Give it here. I'm flying solo for this." The man has the audacity to pull a face at me, (a pout, no less!) before grudgingly handing the microphone over to me and slinking off.
"One minute!" the producer calls.
I hold the microphone in my left hand, reaching into my hoodie's front pocket with my right and pulling the trusty Mag-Lite out. I look to the producer. "Five seconds before we go live, kill all the lights," I say.
The producer frowns, "Without lights, they won't be able to see you."
Inwardly, I sigh. "Yes, thank you, Kevin. You may trust that I understand the rather rudimentary physics involved. Now, as we're a bit pressed for time, explanations will have to be truncated, so I'll be blunt: I'm me, and I'm holding this," I say, giving the torch a shake, "do you really think that this is a suitable point in time for you to argue with me?"
Kevin sees reason and tells his people, "Fifteen seconds! Lights out in ten!" The lights go out, everyone gets quiet, and I hear the voices of the announcers.
"But first, I'm told we have some further comments from Callista Quinn."
"Oh god, I hope she didn't hear me betting against her..."
There's a momentary dip in the crowd noise. They were prepared to boo, but all they see is a blank screen. That stage set, I press the stud downward, the light shining directly at the camera's lens, before I lower my arm, pointing the light up at my face while I look downward, the hood of my sweatshirt hiding my eyes. There are the boos now, interspersed with cheers from the sort of fans who cheer for heels. I lift the microphone to my lips and I begin to speak.
"Emily Layne," I begin, my voice low and somber. "This is the one and only time you'll hear your name from my lips. Because as desperately as you wish it were otherwise...none of this is about you. You are an obstacle on my path. Nothing more."
"It is my path that is important. It is the journey that matters. It is my destination...which will bring salvation." I lift my chin, raising my eyes and looking into the camera, letting the brightness of the torch's white light and the dim background create a harsh contrast. "I walk a dark path in order to bring forth light."
"And when the light comes, you will all know true joy. When the new dawn that I have brought forth spreads across the world of professional wrestling...then shall we be saved!" My voice rises and so do my eyes, my head tilting back so I can gaze upwards into the heavens which only I can see, a beatific smile upon my face. My voice barely above a whisper, I say, "You cannot know how greatly I desire that day..."
I look back into the camera, eyes and expression grimly blank. "But that day is not today. Today that light will not be seen. Today is a day for darkness. Darkness so deep you could swear it had substance...darkness that could swallow you whole, and leave nothing behind."
"Today....that darkness....claims the FTW championship."
I press the button on the torch and the light flicks off.
After Callista's promo, the camera goes back to the announce desk. There are three men sitting there, not two.
LvK: That was ominous.
RP: Yeah. Like foreshadowing for what's about to happen.
LvK: Did you say "foreshadowing?"
RP: Hey, if Iron Maiden can be literate, so can I!
van Keel shakes his head and looks at the camera.
Ladies and gentlemen, what we are about to witness...
RP: Put the kids to bed. That's all I'm sayin'.
LvK: He ain't lying, folks. From everything we've seen and everything we've heard, the... thing? creature?... that Rowan Chance has become is not for the faint of heart.
RP: I like it, van Keel! I like it! She's brutal. She's vicious. She will do anything to win.
LvK: Well, maybe you can ask her out on a date one of these nights.
RP: You think I haven't?
LvK: I think you'd need to change your adult diapers if you got even close to her.
RP: That's pretty low, even for you van Keel!
LvK: Ladies and gentlemen, this is the first appearance of "Aika" here in FTW and joining us here at ringside at our announce table is Lord Tantalus, Rowan's... Rowan's... well, I'm not exactly sure what to call you, sir.
Lord Tantalus: You can call me Lord Tantalus.
RP: Show some respect for the man, van Keel!
LvK: (to RP) Where did you learn that word?
RP: What word?
LvK: "Respect."
RP: From your mom.
LvK: (sigh) Tantalus... I'm sorry, I can't call you "Lord."
LT: That's fine, Mr. van Keel. I understand.
LvK: You have been the... tutor? Mentor?... of Rowan's for...
LT: Forgive me, but I must correct you, Mr. van Keel. You will not be seeing Rowan Chance in the ring tonight. The woman who will be... wrestling... is someone completely different. Just as the Great Mutoh is not Kokushi-Muso or the White Ninja, so is Rowan not Aika nor is Aika Rowan.
RP: This is something I completely understand, Lord Tantalus. I've seen this Aika in action and everything about her is different. Her move set. Her attitude. Everything!
LvK: Well, we're going to see exactly what all that means...
Suddenly, a clock appears on the screen, counting down to midnight.
RP: And it looks like it's that time!
3...
2...
1...And the raging chorus of Texas Hippie Coalition's, "Turn it Up" hits and the crowd explodes into boos.
COME ON, COME ON, COME ON, TURN IT UP!
COME ON, COME ON, COME ON, TURN IT UP!
COME ON, COME ON, COME ON, TURN IT UP!
COME ON, LET'S TURN IT UP LOUDER!https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=szjQ0VOWl2E&list=PLeeCFXX03smdp3WhDRxXF_x1rmZkEieAR
Gemma appears at the top of the stage. She looks amazing. Heavy black new rock boots, custom made for strong style kicks, adorned with studs and silver buckles. Torn fishnets lead up to a tiny red and black tartan mini skirt that lays on top of a red spandex bikini bottom. Looped around the waist is her black studded leather belt. Her midriff is on show, pale and toned. Her 34 D's jiggle while held in place by a red string bikini top with a glittering skull and crossbones over each breast. She has a red choker around her neck and her fists are taped tight.
She looks out at the audience with eyes painted in thick black eyeliner matching her black lipstick and nails. Blood red curls fall over those dark eyes as she smiles sarcastically at the boos.
"Go on and boo!" she shouts. "You know you all want me!"
Gemma prances down to the ring, ignoring the boos and wiggling and bouncing, showing it all off. One pretty boy in the front row catches her attention. She pauses by him, gives him a look up and down... she gets a little closer... a little closer... then she raises two fingers in his face and laughs.
"Dream on, baby!" she shouts, giving him the two-finger salute.
Gemma climbs up into the ring, climbing up the corner ropes and raises her arms up high.
LT: Pride goeth before the fall.
RP: What's that?
LvK: Icarus symbolism.
RP: Oh, yeah. Everybody knows that.
The lights go out. Complete blackness. A gentle, almost mystical orchestral keyboard part echoes in the distant corners of the hall. Then, a high, angelic voice sings.
"Sparkling angel... I believed... you were my savior... in my time of need..." White and golden spotlights swirl around the audience. The music slowly builds.
"I see the angels... I'll lead them to your door... there's no escape now... no mercy no more... No remorse 'cause... I still remember..."
"I still remember... THE SMILE WHEN YOU TORE ME APART."
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VK9qfVQ4Z04
The stage explodes in light and fire and a figure clad all in white silk and feathers, hooded in a silver halo. Wide wings on her back. She stands looking down at the stage, her hands crossed in front of her. The crowd is silent, unsure of who this is. They've never seen her before.
A name appears on the screen above her:
[/i]
Then, she slowly raises her head and her hands... spread apart. Suddenly, she grabs the robe/cloak and tears it away, revealing an all black spandex suit, tinted with blood red. A mask on her face, black with red webbing. She spits what Gordon would call "a suspicious red fluid" from her lips. She looks down at the stage... looking at you. The song's bridge builds again.
"I still remember..."And the lights go out again.
Then, they come back on, and she's in the ring, in the opposite corner. Smiling at Gemma, her lips dripping crimson.
Across the ring, Gemma looks at Aika, her eyes showing no fear. The ref looks at them both... then rings the bell.
And Gemma RUNS across the ring at an unmoving Aika. Gemma slams into her enemy, throwing her into the corner. Aika's body hits the corner, her arms flailing out at her sides between the second and third ropes. Gemma's taped fists pound at Aika's sides and the masked woman raises her arms to block. The ref steps in, trying to pull Gemma out of the corner, but she keeps punching, slamming those fists of hers into Aika's sides.
RP: I didn't expect this!
LvK: Looks like Gemma has caught Aika completely off guard! She's pummeling the masked woman without mercy or remorse!
Finally, the ref pulls Gemma off and Aika slumps into the corner, unmoving. Her head is down and her wet hair falls over her masked face.
"Is that it?" Gemma shouts over the ref's shoulder at Aika. "That the scary voodoo boogywoman who's gonna send me to the back screaming?"
LvK: Aika hasn't moved from the corner. She's lying there like a broken doll!
Gemma pushes the ref aside and runs to the corner. Her taped fists fly as she slams them into Aika's head and shoulders. The masked woman raises her arms to protect herself, but her limbs are weak and rubbery. The ref rushes in again, trying to pull Gemma off. He begins counting. When he gets to four, Gemma backs off, her taped hands raised up, palms out.
The ref looks down at Aika, confused. "Do you want to continue?" he asks.
Aika says nothing. But her legs twist and suddenly, she's back on her feet, her masked face obscured by the long, wet locks of hair.
RP: Did you see that?
LvK: Aika just stood up like... like...
RP: Like a @#$% ghost!
LT: Or a vengeful spirit.
RP: Don't talk like that!
When Aika stands, both the ref and Gemma take a step back. But she doesn't move. She doesn't step forward. Aika stands in the corner, motionless. As if waiting for something...
Gemma smirks. "I ain't afraid of no ghosts," she says. Then, she steps forward, her fists up and clenched tight. She swings a feint with her right, then ducks in a jab with her left that clocks Aika square in the jaw. The masked woman stumbles back, falling into the turnbuckle, grasping the top rope for balance.
"You're no ghost!" Gemma shouts. "You're just Rowan in a stupid mask!"
LvK: Gemma now throws a series of vicious blows. Lefts, rights and uppercuts. And Aika is barely blocking any of them!
RP: Like she
wants to get hit.
Tantalus: She does.
Both men look at Tantalus. Under his mask, he smiles.
Gemma thinks to herself...
Seriously, what the fuck is this? I came in here to beat down some jumped up voodoo loving dipshit and instead I get a punching bag? I’m working this girl over like a rookie. Like some fucking journeywoman fighter drafted in to fill a slot. I was told Rowan Chance was the shit, Hell, Red speaks of her like she’s fucking royalty.
She laughs.
Just thinking of Red gives me reason to pause my onslaught for a moment and take a quick look around the ring… that fucker promised he’d be here. He PROMISED! God damn it. Fine, I’ll pound this silly tart out alone. GAWD this is frustrating!"
Now don’t get me wrong, I love beating on a jobber as much as the next heel but this? This feels wrong. I’m hitting her like a ten tonne hammer and she’s not screaming. Even Punky would be wreching up and gasping after the body blows I’ve landed in this match! But the way she just got up after that cornerwork pounding I laid on her… That was creepy.
The Ref screams, "Damn it Gemma! Open those fists!”
He roars and I oblige. Gripping her hair instead I drag her out of the corner and HURL her across the ring! The way she runs is even odd, not fluid or natural. Just a little off kilter. Well this next hit might knock the crazy out of her… as she bounces off the far ropes back towards me I sprint off towards her and leap up high! Extending my right leg as I cut a scythe through the sweaty arena air and…
LvK: OH MY GOD! Gemma just laid out Aika with a mid-air spinning heel kick! Aika's crumpled to the mat like Gemma tossed her away like a piece of trash! That connection was brutal! Aika's on the mat and she isn't moving! Surely that’s the end of this match?
RP: Haha! I don’t think your girl wanted to get hit with that Tantalus! She’s lucky her head is still attached! Did you see how her head spun?
LvK: Careful Rick! She might hear you…
RP: I mean… erm… an unfortunate turn of events there, wouldn’t you say so Lord Tantalus?
Tantalus: Fortune has no place in this contest. The outcome has already been decided.
RP: Y… yeah….. Aika clearly has Gemma right where she wants her….
*Rick leans over to Larry*
RP: Where the hell did you get this guy?
I look down at the thing that used to be Rowan Chance and I smirk.
Then, Gemma says, "Hehehe Damn girl... That one just HAD to hurt, Huh Ikea?"
The Ref says, "Aika."
She laughs again. "Whatever."
I circle here, looking to see if she’s out before committing myself and my jaw drops wide open as…
LvK: AIKA JUST GOT UP! SHE JUST…. SHE JUST SPRUNG RIGHT UP!
RP: If I was Gemma Rox the first thing I’d be doing after this match is demanding a banned substance test! No way could Rowan Chance take a hit like that and get right up!
Tantalus: Gemma isn’t facing Rowan Chance.
No… no fucking way… I gasp, my eyes wide as I witness something I don’t quite understand. No girl on the fucking roster could take a hit like that and spring back up. Nobody! I clench my fists, my eyes narrowing and my teeth grinding as this masked freak silently taunts me with her refusal to stay the fuck down. Fine. I was happy to beat her to a pulp but I guess this is going to take something more severe. I crouch down then LAUNCH myself at her!
Gemma pounces on Aika, slamming her to the ground with a Thez Press, then pounds on Aika, driving the masked woman down to the mat. The ref tries pulling her off, counting up to four before Gemma backs up a step, then goes straight back in.
The ref grabs one of her fists. "If you don't back up, I'm disqualifying you."
Gemma laughs, not even paying attention. She looks down at Aika, her words punctuating every punch.
"WHY!" (punch) "WON'T!" (punch) "YOU!" (punch) "FIGHT!" (punch) "BACK?"
Just then, Aika drops her guard and puts her hands on the canvas. She slides fast, sliding between Gemma's legs, and then, in a heart beat, is standing up behind her.
Gemma turns just in time for Aika to lift her leg with the speed of a bullet and slam it into Gamma's chin. The impact hits Gemma so hard, she's lifted from her feet and she lands flat on her back, her head hitting the bottom turnbuckle.
Aika stands still for a moment... wavering... then falls flat on her stomach.
RP: HOLY @#$%! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?
LvK: An knee from Aika, straight to Gemma's jaw! At such exploding speed like I've never seen before! Like a...
LT: Shining Wizard?
LvK: Yes... exactly like that... But she did it while Gemma was standing...
RP: She could have broken Gemma's neck with that!
LvK: Neither woman is moving. Gemma looks like she's had the lights taken right out of her. And it looks like Gemma's pounding assault has done its damage on Aika.
RP: The ref's up to five!
LvK: Aika is starting to stir. Gemma seems... no, wait! She's also lifting herself up!
Both women are moving. Gemma, pulling herself up by the corner ropes and Aika in the middle of the ring, staggering to her feet. Gemma is up first, shaking her head. She looks at Aika, still on her knees, and smiles.
Gemma moves forward with the prowl of a predator. She reaches down and grabs Aika by the hair. The masked woman doesn't look up: she simply thrusts an open hand–fingers first–under Gemma's jaw. Gemma's eyes get wide and she releases Aika's hair, moving both hands to her throat.
RP: That was a BLATANT throat strike, van Keel and don't even tell me you didn't see that!
Tantalus: It was a strike to the jaw, slamming the jaw bone upward.
LvK: I don't know, folks. Whatever it was, the ref is allowing it.
RP: More favoritism from the officiating staff here at FTW!
Gemma staggers away while Aika clamors to her feet. She sees Gemma with her hands to her throat and she smiles under her mask. She poises herself... waits for Gemma to turn... and...
LvK: A vicious thrust kick! Straight out of the playbook of the Great Kabuki!
RP: Gemma's fallen straight on her back and Aika is going right for the pin!
LvK: The ref counts one... two...
RP: And a kick out from Gemma! You see van Keel, it'll take more than special effects to keep Gemma down!
LvK: Aika's moving fast, wrapping her legs around Gemma's head and neck, squeezing down in a powerful head scissors.
RP: I'd pay money to have her put me...
LvK: We know, Rip. We know.
Aika holds Gemma tight in the head scissors, Gemma gasping and trying to roll out, but Aika keeps her from turning. Gemma squeezes one hand between her shoulders and Aika's powerful legs... and she's able to twist...
She gets her feet under her... then twists up, putting Aika's shoulders down against the mat. The ref goes down to count.
"One!"
And Aika lifts a shoulder, stopping the count.
With Aika's upper body down on the mat and her legs up, locked around Gemma's neck and one arm, Gemma raises a taped fist and grins, looking down at Aika...
LvK: And she drops that taped fist straight down onto Aika's mid section!
RP: And that's enough to break the hold!
Aika grasps her belly, just above the belt as Gemma gets back to her feet. She sees Aika on the mat and she drops into a mounting position, knees on either side of Aika's shoulders, throwing punches down at the masked woman. Aika tries to put her hands up, but the fists fly fast.
"Open those fists!" the ref shouts. "Open them up!"
Gemma only laughs at him. She looks up. "Look at her! She's nothing! She's..."
That's when Aika reaches up, swinging her legs over Gemma's shoulders...
LvK: The Widow's Kiss! The deadly gogoplata! And Aika's got it locked in tight!
RP: That woman can put that hold on from ANYWHERE.
Gemma's face shows her surprise. Her eyes go wide, her mouth opens. Aika pulls her face closer, tightening her grip.
Closer...
Closer...
Then, with Gemma's eyes bulging and her lips turning blue... Aika gently kisses those lips... then WRENCHES down on the hold.
LvK: Aika has Gemma trapped in that wicked Widow's Kiss!
RP: And there's really nowhere for Gemma to go! She's trapped in the center of the ring!
Gemma's eyes are wide with pain as she tries reaching for the ropes, but every move she makes only tightens the hold around her throat. She throws a punch down at Aika's face but the masked woman only laughs.
She pulls Gemma closer, tightening the hold even further, and with their lips so close, Aika continues to gently kiss Gemma... her kisses becoming more and more intense.
Gemma has two choices: submit or escape. Her free hand, clenched tight, begins to tremble. Her fingers spread wide. The crowd erupts, knowing what's coming...
But then, her hand wraps around the back of Aika's head and with all her strength, and screaming bloody murder, she lifts Aika. In one fluid motion, Gemma throws the masked woman over her shoulder, Aika flying through the ropes to the mats below.
LvK: I can't believe it! Gemma has escaped the Widow's Kiss!
RP: How she did that, I have no idea. That woman must be made of stone!
LvK: And Aika is down! She landed hard on the mats outside and she hasn't moved. Our secondary camera man got a look at the fall...
The camera switches to instant replay as Aika flies between the first and second ropes. She lands hard, her neck and shoulder hitting the mats at an awkward angle. Aika lays still for a moment, then flops over like a broken doll.
RP: There is NO WAY she's getting up from that. NO WAY.
LvK: Row—Aika may have broken her neck on that fall.
Gemma lays in the center of the ring. The pain in her throat burns like the heat of a thousand suns. She holds her throat while she tries to get to her feet. It takes her three tries to do that. She looks around for Aika but only sees the ref at the ropes, looking to the floor below, counting. He's up to six.
"SEVEN!" the ref shouts. Gemma staggers forward, looking over the ref's shoulder. Aika lays on the mats, unmoving.
"EIGHT!" the ref shouts. Gemma laughs. "Count her out!" she says. "Go on." But her voice is cracked and she grasps her throat again, her face wincing in pain.
"NINE!" the ref shouts. And suddenly, Aika goes from flat on her back to standing. Like a marionette on strings. Her head snaps to look at the ring and she leaps, sliding in just a heart beat before the ref hits ten.
RP: What the #$^% was that?
Tantalus: Aika.
RP: No way. No @#$%in' way!
LvK: Aika is back in the ring... stalking toward Gemma...
RP: What's wrong with her neck?
LvK: I... God, that's the creepiest...
Aika moves toward Gemma, her head bent at the wrong angle.
Gemma's eyes light up with fear. "Wait a second..." she says, both hands up. But her voice cracks and she puts her hand on her throat again. "Now just wait a second..."
But Aika keeps stepping forward, her limbs twitching, her neck bent.
Gemma backs all the way to the turnbuckle, hands out stretched. "Rowan... I..."
But Aika says nothing, her wet hair falling in front of her eyes.
Gemma's face changes from fear to desperation. She cocks back a right hand and slams it into Aika's face. Aika's head snaps to the left, then back. Gemma throws an uppercut that knocks Aika's head straight up... then it snaps right back.
Aika reaches out with a slow, inevitable gloved hand...
... and Gemma dodges it, spinning behind Aika. She gives the masked woman a spinning kick to the back of the head. Aika falls forward into the corner ropes and Gemma unloads with punches to the kidneys and the back. Aika's back arches, her fists clenching and unclenching as she stumbles forward.
"Red told me all about your back!" Gemma shouts. She throws elbows and stiff punches at Aika's spine and Aika twists in pain. She reaches through the ropes to the post, gripping it like a woman tied to a whipping post.
Gemma's punches hit fast and hard. Aika falls to one knee, losing her grip on the post. Then, Gemma starts stomping. And she stomps on Aika's back until the woman falls to the mat, her head resting on the bottom turn buckle.
Gemma smiles. "I was never afraid of you," she says. "But after this match, there's something you're gonna be afraid of... ME."
Gemma lifts Aika by the hair and turns her around. She grabs the masked woman and twists her in the air into a piledriver position.
And she waits...
... and waits...
... and DROPS.
LvK: A sickening THUD as Aika's head hits the mat.
RP: That's it. It's all over.
When Aika's head hits the mat, her whole body crunches like an accordion. She falls back, her body limp and without strength. Gemma looks down at her, smiling.
"It's almost all over," she says. "But not quite yet."
Gemma rushes over to the ropes, full speed. Aika's body twitches once.
Ricocheting off the ropes like a bullet, Gemma comes back at Aika, launching herself into the air.
LvK: It's the Gemmasault!
RP: Insult to injury, van Keel.
Gemma flips in the air, her legs in full splits as she falls toward Aika...
I'm pacing back and forth in the Countdown's annexed locker room. I can't seem to stop pacing these days, like a tiger waiting for a feeding time that never comes. Red's stop casting those sullen deep South Faulkner stares at me, at least, but that's mostly because he's watching Gems pound the shit out of the thing that's pretending to be Rowan. I tighten my fists as I see that moment of confusion flash across Gemma's pretty face - that moment of Why isn't this working quickly buried in her usual wash of bravado and arrogance. My knuckles crackle, still wrapped in bloodied tape since I haven't bothered to go to the trainer to get them undone yet. I wanna punch something but there's nothing in here to punch safely, so I snatch the Red Queen up and sit down in a sudden rush.
Dropping into the IKEA chair hard enough to send it lightly crashing into the lockers, I flicker my wide dark eyes at you, watching the big monitor, and catch you looking at me. We don't agree on a lot, of late, but we agree on one thing. No matter how happy Red might be to see it live and in color, this ain't right. Except you probably wouldn't say "ain't".
When Megan picked Rowan as the bearer of our message to FTW, I learned what I could of her on short notice. Mostly this involved matches, culled from various locales, and in various stages of her career. Then I met the woman. I was ill-prepared for what I found. Chaos. Madness. Watching her in the ring was an interesting study in contrasts. In similiarities as well. While "Aika" wrestled little enough like Rowan Chance, I reasoned that even if she had in the depths of her insanity produced another personality, it was still the same body. You could see it in the subtle movements. Where she rested her hands. How she took a punch.
Also, I've seen any number of one-sided beatdowns before. I've engaged in a few myself. This was...not one of those. For all that Gemma has dominated the offence thus far, somehow I don't feel like she's winning. I glance to the side to look askance at you. Seeing you look back at me, I cannot stop my jawline from tightening. It would be counterproductive to say so aloud, but I can't help blaming you for this. Blaming you for unleashing madness upon my plans.
We've been looking each other in the face and planning to hurt each other since we first met in the ass end of nowhere, which happens to be in northern California. I don't wanna say we can read each other like books, because I'm cut-up bits of a bunch of different gritty 80s gdaphic novels pasted into a Kenneth Anger Trapper Keeper, and you're one of those books that has words that change when you stare at them and the cover is made of human skin. Neither of us is safe or sane to read. But we do have tells - mine are open, brash, and explosive. If I draw a bad hand in poker, I accuse the dealer of being a cheating fuck, threaten him with a broken bottle, then throw the cards down and declare that the game sucks anyway and try to rally a game of naked Twister. You're a BIT more subtle.
But you have your giveaways, and the way you tighten up, just a little, when your eyes click with mine speaks volumes. I squeeze the handle of the Red Queen until the tape creaks on the old battered varnished wood, resting her weighted head on the ground and watching with wide, intent eyes. I shudder a little bit as Gemma keeps pounding. She KNOWS something is wrong, but if there's someone on this fucking planet more stubborn than me, it's Gemma Rox. She doesn't try to figure anything out, doesn't try to trick the creature with her into revealing herself, doesn't try for a countout, doesn't do anything but bore into her like a drill. Gemma could've dug the fucking Chunnel if they'd told her that Calais said she looks fat in her miniskirt.
(She doesn't. I picked that miniskirt for her. It makes her ass look FANTASTIC.) But Row- Aika's not playing by any of the rules we play by. Wrestle long enough, and you'll meet wrestlers who are a little ... other-driven. They're more common in Japan, but you seem them in Germany, Britain, and famously here in the States when Mark Calloway realized he'd been a Dead Man all along. Aika's driven by something bigger than fame and darker than revenge. And Gemma doesn't see it. She just sees something she thinks she can lower her head and ram through. I look back at the door before I can stop myself, judging the distance if I have to try to sprint out of here. Red, not noticing a damn drop of the tension thanks the Southern Comfort he's working, laughs.
"Gemma's POUNDIN' that bitch!"
I glance to my side in Red's direction. Do his knuckles look a little white on that bottle? Hard to say. Red could be trying to project unfelt optimism, or he could really not have noticed that the same person who put his arm in a bad way mere days ago is doing this intentionally. He's not a foolish man, but he's very...direct.
He's also not my biggest problem, at the moment. Not in the top five, in truth. I saw that head-turn from you. "No," I say flatly, turning back to the monitor I'd pilfered from the soundstage. "You'll get your chance. Not tonight, though."
I react to a flat "No" like a cat reacts to a faceful of cold water. My shoulders roll and my back tenses up, and my lips draw back from my teeth, just a little. I tense my grip on the weighted mallet in my hands and think for just a moment of the slapped look of bottomless shock that smug cxnt Ursula had painted on her cold high cheekboned face, realizing that the snapping sound she'd heard was, in fact, in her back, and her wrestling career had ended with a sound like a breaking clothespin. Just for a moment, though. I thump the handle against the floor in a soft rhythm - "Shave and a Haircut" - and take a couple of long, slow prana breaths.
"She's gonna be hurt, Calli," I say as calmly as I can manage. In my current mood, that sounds like someone talking through a mouthful of blood and clenched teeth. "And I - "- know you don't care ... I stop THAT line of talk right away, because you'll just get clipped and chill and Red will get awkward and we'll all be stuck here not looking at each other. "I think that would be harmful for our plans. Red's already sore and if Gemma's hurt too then I can't hold off Lisa and Lenny and Spanky the Bombshell by myself if they come after you." There. I'll try appealing ot your sense of self-preservaton. Cunning, Megan. My knuckles creak on the haft of the Red Queen as I heft it, unawares, and thump it down again.
'And this is why I do the strategizing,' I think to myself as you attempt to rationalise trying to do what you want as beneficial to me. This is an inaugural title match. If one of the blondetards attacks me and the ref DQs my Mediterranean opponent, I'm champ. All the better if the fans find me undeserving of the victory. None of THAT needs to be said aloud, of course. "Don't count Gemma out," I say. "Even if this rope-a-dope, it takes an AWFUL long while to make that little hellion punch herself out." I frown. That's plain truth, but it's not precisely what needs to be said. "Anyway, Gemma's not really that crucial to our plans." Red won't care for that comment, but I've already got strings attached to him through other means...
"Gemma won't punch herself out, because Aika is gonna fuckin' BREAK her before that," I growl back. I try to keep my hackles down but that last little line got them right up. Almost like you were TRYING to piss me off - but that'd be fucking stupid when I'm sitting here with a hammer. "Red. RED." I jab the back of his chair and have to endure his face when he turns to face - that mix of disappointment and anger and pain is hard to bear on a friend, and now he's added to it a healthy dash of not-wanting-to-get-involved like so many people do when they hear us arguing. "You were fuckin' READY to face Rowan, right?" "I ..." he hesitates, glancing from you to me, and takes a long drink of iced SoCo and Coke with his good hand. "...I thought I was."
I jab the head of the mallet at Red, holding it just beneath the weighted head like a thunder god using a hammer as a lecture pointer. "He has BROKEN her before. He has broken Rowan down inta fuckin' PIECES. I was THERE. I fuckin' swept them up." I growl. "An' she DISASSEMBLED him." That makes Red wince, and it hurts to do that to him, but I keep my eyes on you. "Roxxy's crossed with Rowan four, mebbe five times. Gems doesn't get her shit out West that much, 'cept ta -" - fuck me - "- fight me. She doesn't know what she's in for. An' you KNOW how she gets when she's in a fuckin' hold." The bitch has less give in her than a fucking iron skillet.
I get up in a rush, shoving the chair back hard enough to knock it off its casters with a crash, and stalk to the monitor, jabbing the Red Queen into it hard enough to rock the solid state beast, and I turn to face you, pointing at where Aika is moving like a broken puppet, like a parody of life. "She's gonna get caught, she's not gonna give, an' she's gonna get her fuckin' arm torn off. An' If she's not fuckin' important to YOUR plans, she's very fuckin' important to ME." I finish, flushed with fury, my weary muscles jumping in my sweat-chilled ring gear.
I look in your direction, turning my head slowly. "If she does, it will be the price she pays for failure," I say, fixing you with my iciest blue-eyed stare. "YOUR price is to sit here and see what you've wrought. If you can't bear to watch the match, look at Red, instead." Red gives me a 'leave-me-the-fuck-outta-this' look in response to that comment. I stand up, moving calmly towards the locker room door, turning to lean my back up against it. "Now as I said, you will get your hands on her. But Not. To. Night." This is risky. It could push you too far. But it could also solve two problems at once. Worth a toss of the dice.
There's a long, long moment of tension that's as tangible as a plucked violin string, humming desperately between two unrelenting grips. My eyes narrow furiously and I wrap my left around the hammer in my hand as my right tightens until there's small icy crack of one short squared fingernail splintering against my taped palm. My tendons suddenly ease and I let out a long, slow breath, and turn my back to you to take a deliberate seat on the bench, watching the monitor. My eyes stay locked on the dark things there, and when I speak, my voice is almost as clipped and icy as yours, which is never, ever a good sign with me. "I'll watch the fucking match. But if this goes wrong, and she gets hurt," I grit my teeth so hard I can hear them almost cracking, and shake my head with a sharp snap to break my own tension. "... then I am goin' out there to fuck that crazy masked cxnt up."
"And if you get in my fucking way one more time, Quinn, then YOUR price is gonna be a prolonged fucking hospital stay." Not the best words way to ease the tension. Red mutters something about a refill and gets up, putting as much distance between himself and us as he can, but the room is really not very big.
And it feels fucking smaller all the time.
Gemma flips in the air, her legs in full splits as she falls toward Aika...
But at the very last second, Aika sits up.
Gemma lands in her full splits, slamming into the canvas. Her face twisted in agony, her body stunned as she sits motionless for a moment, her face twisted in pain... then collapses.
Aika's masked face turns quickly, staring at Gemma. Then, Aika's gloved hand shoots out and grabs Gemma by the throat.
Gemma's face snaps from pain to surprise. Her hands reach up, grabbing Aika's wrist. She tries to gasp for breath, but can't.
LvK: It's a choke, Ref! Come on!
RP: Gemma's in real trouble now.
LvK: What? You aren't going to complain about double standards?
RP: In this match, van Keel, I'm keeping my opinions to myself.
Like before, Aika slides to her feet as if something above her had lifted her up and she pulls Gemma up with her. The two women now face-to-face, bound together by Aika's iron grip.
"NO!" Gemma tries to shout, but the hand on her throat cuts off the sound.
Aika's head snaps forward, smashing her forehead into the bridge of Gemma's nose. Blood explodes over both women as Gemma's face snaps from surprise to agony. Her limbs freeze. Her legs buckle.
Then, Aika twists Gemma's body into a Tombstone piledriver position...
LvK: It's the Tomb Breaker! The Tomb Breaker!
RP: That move almost killed a wrestler in Japan! It's banned all over the world! Why hasn't FTW banned it?
LvK: Don't do it, Rowan! Don't...
Aika pauses, holding Gemma in the perfect position...
LvK: For the love of God, Rowan! Don't do it!
LT: Rowan cannot hear you, Mister van Keel.
LvK: This is too much! Don't...
Aika leaps straight into the air, her legs splitting out under her, dropping Gemma into a tombstone with full splits.
The sound of Gemma's skull hitting the boards under the canvas meets with a heavy, sick crack.
LvK: I can't tell if that noise was the boards under the mat or Gemma's spine!
RP: It's probably both, van Keel.
LvK: Someone stop this match! Right now!
Gemma's body falls from Aika's grip and slumps to the mat. Gemma's body splayed before Aika, shuddering like a woman struck by lightning.
Aika sits, crossing her legs behind her, looking down at Gemma.
The ref goes down for the pin... but Aika doesn't pin her. She just looks at Gemma's body, twisting like it was hit by a stun gun, Aika's head bent just to the side. Like a curious cat watching the last throes of a dying mouse.
Aika then looks at the referee. Then, back at Gemma.
Almost as if she doesn't know what to do.
Finally, Gemma's spasms quiet and her body rests. Still.
Aika doesn't move, watching Gemma. Silently watching her.
The ref begins his count on Gemma. She lays on the mat, unmoving.
He gets to three. Then four. Then five and six. Finally, Gemma's body twitches. Her hands begin to push against the mat, trying to lift herself up.
And that's when Aika, like a spider, throws Gemma over onto her back. Then, she slides onto Gemma's shoulders. Her legs coil around Gemma's right arm.
LvK: Oh, no...
RP: This is exactly what she did to the Red Enforcer...
LvK: Tantalus, you have to stop this!
LT: I cannot stop her. Nothing can stop her.
RP: Holy $%^&, Rowan's going to break Gemma's arm!
LT: In life, the penalty for not understanding is pain.
LvK: Tantalus, I don't care what kind of screwed up shades of grey relationship the two of you have...
Sitting on Gemma's back, Aika's hands wrap around Gemma's wrist, her legs tight around Gemma's shoulder. The crowd is dead silent. As silent as a wake.
Then, Aika laughs... and pulls.
Gemma screams out loud. "NO! YOU #$%^ing bitch! I'll NEVER tap for you!"
Aika laughs more and pulls back harder.
Gemma screams again. "NO! NO!"
The ref looks at Gemma. "Do you...?"
She doesn't let him finish the sentence. "$%^& YOU!!!" she shouts. "NO!!!"
The referee looks at Aika and shakes his head. "She says no."
Aika keeps her eyes focused on the ref. Locked on him. She tightens her grip around Gemma's wrist, her dark laughter filling the room like a black cloud, billowing from the center of the ring, through the ropes, out to the chairs and stands.
The crowd is still silent. Like NASCAR fans holding their breath the moment they see a car starting to lose control... waiting for the wreck. Half their hearts filled with dread and the other half filled with anticipation.
The ref asks again, "Gemma... please..."
As if in response, Aika pulls a little harder, twisting the wrist in her hands, arching her back just an inch. The scream Gemma makes sounds like it came from the darkest parts of the Hart Dungeon.
"@#$% YOU, ROWAN!" she screams. "NEVER! NEVER!"
The camera focuses on Gemma. Her face is red. Her eyes moist. Her lips screaming.
Then, the camera shifts to Aika's face. And for a brief second, she looks directly into the camera. Her eyes are black. Her lips twisted in a cruel smile. And mouths says a single word. The only word she has spoken the entire match.
"Megan."
I'm already on my feet when Aika flips Rowan over into the ude-garami. I take a long breath and then turn to face Callista Quinn, still watching the monitor with her back to the door and her face carved from ice.
Behind me, something twisting Rowan's voice speaks my name.
"I'm bein' paged, Calli," I say quietly, my eyes burning with fury as I grip the Red Queen under her lead-weighted mallet head with my right fist and around the haft with my left, holding the heavy croquet weapon across my chest. Her eyes meet mine, chilled and shadowed to hide whatever she's thinking, but I see her hands quietly dip out of sight into her pockets.
"I'm goin' out there. Now. I'm either gonna go past you or I'm gonna fuckin' go through you," I growl, taking a step closer. "An' if ya wanna pull your fuckin' MagLite or your brass fuckin' knuckles out of your pocket an' take a swing right now, we can do that fuckin' dance. An' then I'm gonna get up outta the lake of blood we'll leave behind an' I'm gonna go down there anyway, so I'll say it fuckin' succinctly."
I tighten my grip on the croquet mallet - it looks silly, a comic book weapon, something a riot grrl would carry ironically; a spraypainted, stickered croquet mallet. But the lead core and African hardwood the Red Queen is made of has ended one career already and won me more than a handful of matches.
"Get outta my fuckin' way."
Calli doesn't give a thing away aside from the slightest narrowing of her eyes and tightening of her jaw that practically snarl We shall discuss this later before she almost casually steps off the door and goes to take a seat in the IKEA chair after setting it back on its casters. She swivels the chair to the monitor, putting her back to me.
When Callista Quinn does ANYTHING you've forced her to, she does it like a cat - languidly, arrogantly, and with the air that she was going to do this ANYWAY so you haven't really won. I bet she even orgasms with a disdainful air.
I shoulder through the door and pelt down the hall. Red shouts something after me but by that time I've gotten my Doc Martens churning, and my heavy boots slam through the halls. A camera guy working on his light takes a second too long to get out of my way and I clothesline him into the fucking wall with the handle of the Red Queen. Security guys in polos and a couple of the commissioner's backstage agents in cheap suits are hanging out at gorilla, keeping an eye out for trouble, but they're watching the madness in the ring and it's too late to stop the insanity coming up behind them.
I swing from the hips, taking out one of the agent's knees from behind, and he drops with a howling ragged scream as I turn an old ring injury into a lifelong limp. A security guy turns to lunge at me and takes a 14 pound lead weight in the chest as I bring the hammer up and drive it forward, driving him into the wall and dropping him wheezing. Another one gets a grip on me, trying to drag me down, and I snap a headbutt into the bridge of his nose and, as he staggers back, punt the toe of my Doc up into his goody bag, sending him to his knees with an unearthly howl. The last road agent, who under the cheap suit and slicked back hair appears to be Flower Power Phil (one half of Peace and Love Incorporated, the hippie heels who used to run amok in the Midwest territories. Phil is short for "Philodendron" - the guy whose knee I took out was Sweet Richie Love, his partner), takes a good look at me and puts his hands up, backing away and holding the curtain up for me.
I don't stop to exchange snappy remarks or to argue about assault with a deadly weapon or grievous bodily harm - I go slamming down the aisle at furious speed. They don't queue my music because that's fucking stupid. Also Europe would be a little inappropriately cheery for this situation.
The crowd pops my arrival - possibly out of confusion or discomfort before they realize they hate me and Gemma, but it's really hard for anyone to get behind a monster like Aika.
I hit the ring at a dead run, leaping before I hit the apron and belly-sliding under the bottom rope, twisting my body to bring my boots around so I can use the momentum to leap smoothly to my feet, a trick I learned from Paul London. That leaves me in my sweaty and bloodied ring gear with the Red Queen in my fist facing Aika, who stares up at me with her eyes mad and lost behind her new face. It's hard not to look at my suffering lover, but I have to keep Aika's eyes on me.
The referee starts to warn me out, but thinks better of it when he sees agents and crew beginning to swarm from the back, helping some of the men I've injured and starting to approach the ring, and the zebra instead just backs off with one hand raised to signal the timekeeper.
I keep my dark gaze locked on Aika and snarl in a dead tongue (Yeah, I took Latin in high school. What of it?), invoking the monster, trying to peel her off my Gemma and get her onto me.
"Vocavi te, venefica -" I splay my arms, the Red Queen held under the head in my dark-taped and bloodied right fist as I plant my blood-red boots defiantly in the ring. "- et VENIO."
The crowd pops and Aika looks up. Her masked face twists into a kind of smile. Wet hair dangling over her eyes, she watches Punky charging for the ring.
When Punky hits the apron, Aika stands, letting go of Gemma's arm. Gemma writhes in pain, holding her shoulder with her good hand.
The ref runs forward, sending warnings at Punky, but it's as if he isn't even there. There are just two people in the ring right now. No Gemma, no ref. Only two.
Punky snarls something the mics don't pick up and charges, the Red Queen held high above her head. Aika doesn't move, frozen like a grotesque statue.
Punky screams...
Aika stands motionless...
The Red Queen swings...
RP: What the @#$% just happened?
LvK: We've lost everything. Lights, feed, everything.
RP: What's going on? I hear...
LvK: Something's happening in the ring...
Suddenly, the crowd hears a horrible scream. A helpless scream. The sound of a soul being torn from the body.
And then, the wet sound of a bone breaking.
LvK: What in the name of God was that?
RP: (murmuring) Please don't turn the lights back on... Please don't turn the lights back on...
The lights return.
Punky stands in the corner of the ring, the Red Queen in her hands, squeezing it with taped fists, her punkytails flying this way and that, looking for something that isn't there.
The ref stands in another corner looking completely confused.
And Gemma lies in the center of the ring, her shoulder twisted in a way that shoulders just don't turn. She's screaming, lips wide open, eyes shut tight, tears running down her face.
RP: Oh, @#$% why did I have to see that?
LvK: Aika is gone!
RP: Thank Christ. But look what that sick @#$% did to poor Gemma!
LvK: Gemma is lying in the center of the ring, her arm broken like a bread stick!
RP: @#$% YOU, VAN KEEL! NOW I CAN NEVER EAT BREAD STICKS AGAIN!
LvK: This is sick! This isn't what wrestling is supposed to be about!
LT: This is what the Countdown asked for. And thus, this is what they get.
LvK: You bastard! This isn't wrestling! This is ending people's careers!
LT: The same way they hoped to end Rowan's. And now, they must suffer the consequences for their choices.
Tantalus stands, watching Punky in the middle of the ring. Slowly, he walks around the ring toward the ramp. But Punky doesn't even notice. She only wants one thing right now and Tantalus isn't that. He walks up the ramp and through the curtain to the back.
The ref has been kneeling over Gemma. She's still screaming, still clutching at her twisted arm. He stands, turns to the back and throws up the Dreaded X.
RP: Who's the winner here, van Keel?
LvK: I don't know. We have to wait for the referee's decision...
The ref walks to the corner and shouts something down at the time keeper. The time keeper walks back to his mic and says,
"The referee has ruled that the winner of this match... via disqualification due to outside interference... is AIKA!"RP: THAT'S A BULL@#$% CALL! A BULL@#$% CALL!
LvK: A controversial decision if I've ever heard one.
RP: Ya think?!?!
LvK: The ref had no other choice. Punky interfered in the match and took a swing at Aika with the Red Queen.
RP: What about poor Gemma? What about her?
LvK: All I can say is, pick your friends and enemies wisely.
RP: Now you're starting to sound like that Tantalus asshole.
The crowd erupts in cheers. Punky slams her Doc Martins against the mat, slams the Red Queen into the turnbuckle. Some start throwing cups and bags of popcorn at her. Punky doesn't care. She's still looking. Still scanning the crowd. A fan hits her with a soda cup and she doesn't even notice. Her eyes are wide and full of hate and fury.
Meanwhile, paramedics assist Gemma out of the ring and toward the back.
LvK: Ladies and gentlemen, we're going to try to restore some order here before our main event. But I don't know who is going to be able to get Punky out of the ring. She's hitting everything in sight with that croquet mallet... Wait a second... there's some kind of commotion in the back... we've got a camera there, can we... ?
The camera switches from van Keel to a dark room. A solitary figure throws herself about the room, smashing into the lockers, smashing into the walls, throwing herself like the victim of a voodoo doll.
It's Aika.
"YOU CAN'T HAVE MY PAIN!" she shouts, ripping at her hair and the mask on her face.
She screams it again:
"YOU CAN'T HAVE MY PAIN!" She falls to the floor like a marionette who has lost its strings, her masked face against the concrete, her body twisted like a demonic pretzel. Her hands are in her hair, twisted in her fingers.
Her voice, cracking, whispers,
"Nobody can have my pain... Nobody but you... Nobody but you..."
Aika's body shudders... then becomes very still. Silent.
The camera man approaches, almost cautiously...
And Aika
leaps up, grabbing the camera, her masked face filling the screen.
"NOBODY BUT YOU!!!"The camera man falls back, the image spinning out of control, then breaks into static.
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Alone in the locker room, I watched as the scene in and around the ring unfurled. After they showed Gemma being wheeled towards the backstage area, I turned the phone off and took a single breath. No sense avoiding it. Time to see what needed to be done. I pulled the hoodie on, tucked my mag-lite into the front pouch, then opened the door and stepped through into chaos.
Locker room doors up and down the hall stood open, wrestlers and managers and crew all huddled around televisions in groups. Gorilla was wide open, the stage lights blazing as Gemma was wheeled back by a cadre of EMTs. They had her strapped down tight, her arm in a temporary splint, (and if they're wise, sedated with enough tranquillisers to pacify a rhinoceros.)
Stepping towards them, I head over towards the parking garage where the ambulance was located, passing a closed door with what appeared to be a hand-made star with "SADIE" written on it in black sharpie. "Wasn't this a supply closet?" I thought. The door opened, and out stepped the Red Enforcer. "Ah." I gave a purposeful tilt of my head and, after a moment's pause, he fell into step with me.
I caught up to the EMT's, the ambulance door open as they prepared to bring their patient inside. Megan was with them, alternating strokes of Gemma's hair with streams of invective so furiously obscene that it seems to scorch the air around her. "Oh," I thought. "So that's the way of it."
Looking on the bright side, an enraged Punky is a dangerous Punky. She might tear Layne apart if I could get them together while I distracted the referee. Unfortunately, though, recent events proved I couldn't be certain she had the discipline to stick to a plan, no matter how straightforward. In her present state, I wasn't sure I wanted her ringside. Maybe it would be best to tell her to go with Gemma to hospital. I pursed my lips at that thought, remembering that I didn't want Megan thinking I cared about Gemma. Complicated plans and chaos are a dangerous mix.
I still wasn't sure how I wanted to play this as I approached, but that decision was quickly taken from me. "Megan, I-" I started to say, but when she glared in my direction, my hand tightened of its own accord around the grip of the Mag-Lite. She didn't say a word, but I could read her intent with perfect clarity. Sighing, I nodded my head, offering a non-committal gesture with my hand that even I was entirely certain of the meaning of.
She climbed into the back of the ambulance as Gemma's gurney was loaded in, and the door shut, wheeling two-thirds of my minions away into the night. Sighing in moderate irritation, I turned to Red. Again, I tried to look on the bright side. Red had been around the block, and his experience in the Southern territories meant he knew all the tricks about how to help out from the outside. I could also trust he'd keep his head cool in the clinch. "Looks like it'll just be you out there for my match," I said.
"No. It will not," a familiar voice said behind me.
I winced and thought "Ah fu-"
The woman the Spanish accent belonged to stepped into my field of view. Gabriela Dos Santos, La Santa herself. Former holder of about every title you like, (possibly still current holder of a couple, albeit for companies now out of business,) and FTW Commissioner, La Santa herself. Dressed in a smart bespoke white pantsuit with gold highlights and fringe, and with a large golden cross around her neck, its design a perfect replica of the one she used to adorn her tights with in her wrestling days. The days I ended.
Unfortunately, with those days ended, it meant I couldn't settle disagreements with her with violence, anymore. I was finding that...inconvenient, as of late. "I warned you that there would be consequences if Countdown interfered in any of tonight's matches. So there shall be." She pointed at the curtain marking Gorilla. "If any member of Countdown sets foot on the other side of Countdown in your match, be it in the ring, on the stage, or in the stands, he or she is FIRED!"
My irritation, previously somewhere between mild-plus and medium, escalated to Thai hot. It took a moment to unclench my jaw to make sure I was maintaining my icy, calm expression. Judging by the fact that Red was now a step further away from me, I had perhaps not done so quite as well as I might have hoped. I could swear I saw the barest hint of a smirk in Gabriela's professionally aloof demeanour, but I doubted that would be considered a justifiable reason for clubbing her to death with the Mag-Lite I had a white-knuckled grip on just then.
Now, MEGAN, on the other hand. Her I had justification for murdering, but sadly, the ambulance was well out of view by now. La Santa, satisfied that her point had been made, walked off. I glanced in Red's direction. He looked back worriedly, possibly fearful I might order him to interfere despite the punitive consequence he would face.
I probably would trade his job for the belt, if it were reasonably certain, but looking at the situation practically, I couldn't be sure that would work. La Santa might just order security to block Red from getting to the ring. Greensboro's minimum-wage goon squad probably couldn't stop him if he were determined, but Red having to fight his way through a phalanx of tubby former high school handegg players would surely be noticed even by the dimmest of FTW's referees.
No, too much risk for too little reward. "You're off the hook," I said, barely noticing his relief as I turned and headed back to the locker room. A new plan was needed...
Scene switches to the commentary table where the two announcers still seem shocked by the bizarre turn of events.
LVK: And we are back, ladies and gentlemen! We must say that we had some crazy times in the backstage with two ambulances needed. One for Gemma Rox and the other for two of the EMTs,injured while they were tryin to keep Rox still!
RP: Also we had some technical issues with our broadcast, apparently.
LVK: That's right, Rick, but all is fixed up now and we are ready to serve you the main event of the night with the first ever championship match in FTW!
The camera pans lower to the table where we see the championship belt laid front and center on the announce table on a small red pillow.
RP: And we have a very special guest here at the commentary table with us: the prize that everyone is fighting fort!
LVK: Fans, we have had confirmation from the Commissioner's office: Due to Megan Dow's interference in that savage match between Gemma Rox and Rowan Chance -
RP: Aika.
LvK: Er, yes - the Commissioner has formally announced that all members of The Countdown except Callista Quinn are banned from the ring and the ringside area! If one of them shows up tonight, they will be fired!
RP: This is bull*beep*! A fascist act! A total abuse of power!
LVK: What are you talking about? Finally we have the chance to see a fair match, one on one without any interference from outside, unlike every OTHER Countdown match!
RP: But tell me this: who will prevent Layne from cheating?
LVK: The referee, Rick. He's an impartial official. It's his job!
RP: You live in the Dark Ages, van Keel! If that Italian tries to cheat again like she did against Punky, I will personally take care of business!
LVK: *facepalms* Oh, Lord.
The lights go off, the arena turns totally dark like moments ago during the match between Rox and Aika. The audience reacts with a gasp. The large video screen at the head of the aisle - the FTW-Tron - shows white writing on a black background.
WHO WILL BE THE FIRST FTW WORLD CHAMPION?
Music starts to play, filling the arena. It's the soundtrack from the first Saw movie. The writing is replaced by a image of the shining belt in the middle of the screen.
The image of the belt drops lower, on the right side is Emily Layne with her hands on her hips switching to have her arms crossed under her chest. On the left side is Callista Quinn lifting her face up and pulling her dark hood back, showing her short-cut hair and bright evil eyes.
The music goes on, images of FTW moments are shown on the screen.
The volume turns down some, there is Calli sitting on a sofa in a apartment, talking to a unseen person.
"Emily ... has annoyed me"
The scene switches to a conference hall, with Emily Layne in front of a bank of microphones.
"The Countdown isn't wrestling!"
The volume turns up again. A series of scenes from FTW are screened on the FTW-Tron:
Emily coming down and interrupting Gemma and Punky when they are about to hit Rowan with a double-team move.
Callista with a mic in her hand, talking to the audience in her first infamous promo.
Callista trapping Emily in a surfboard submission hold, both in casual outfits.
Emily ready to go after the leader of The Countdown while she is climbing outside between the ropes.
Pause.The images are now black and white.
Emily is concentrated flipping a dart toward the wall in front of her, Callista flips a coin in the Countdown locker room, Emily climbs the ropes in the corner and waves to the enthusiastic audience, Callista confronts with Red Enforcer before turning away with a smug smile painted in her face.
The rhythm of the music increases, the scenes become rougher, again with colours.
Callista traps Lisa Starr in her Muta lock, Emily cuts a impressive Psycho Driver on Shizuko, Emily in street clothes spears Punky, Callista slams down Sadie's body in a huge powerbomb!
The screen turns black with a huge white writing in the middle.
Rowan grabs Emily hand and raise it up to the ceiling between a roaring crowd, Layne cleans the ring hitting first Gemma and then Punky with two running clotheslines, Emily finishes Shizuko with the Kudo driver while smirking at the camera.
Black again,music is still on. White writing appears.
Callista pins Lisa Starr, Callista traps a screaming Sadie in a abdominal stretch, Quinn mockingly extends her hand out to Emily for a tag, Callista slams the bleeding face of Emily down on the metallic ramp over and over.
The screen once again shows Emily on the right and Callista on the left, the belt between them.
Another sequence of images.
Emily rolls up Punky for the three count, The Countdown posing over Lisa, Rowan and Emily's bodies in the ring, Callista drags Emily's limp body in the ring, a bleeding Emily puts her hands on her thighs waving at Quinn who is quickly walking across the ramp.
Music volume turns down some.
"One by one, they will all fall" Emily says, throwing a dart into Callista's picture hanging on the wall in front on her.
"The belt will be around the waist of someone in this ring. Because we've got all of wrestling to save. And this is the next step. Time's up," Callista nods and looks to the ceiling before dropping the mic.
Volume turns up again and a last writing appears.
WHO WILL BE THE FIRST FTW WORLD CHAMPION?
Music ends, and the crowd roars.
(Soundtrack: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vhSHXGM7kgE )[/i]
LvK: And that was the violent history between the two superstars that in few minutes will face each other in this very ring!
RP: And they will compete for the gold, Larry!
LvK: I could't be more excited about it, Rick!
The lights goes off again in the arena.
RP: It looks like someone forgot to pay the power bill.
Thud.
RP: OW! Hey!
LvK: Shhhh, Rick. Shhhhh.
The FTW-Tron shows a row of bright brass horns and blaring horn music fills the arena.
The crowd gasps again. Two bright spotlights are randomly moving through the audience until they come to a stop on the stage, under the giant screen where I am standing.
I am wearing a very long white toga with gold trim, draped over my whole body. My head is covered under a golden centurion helmet which leaves exposed only my eyes, mouth and chin. My head is tilted down as if in prayer.
The original theme from the movie Gladiator starts to play and replaces the blaring horns as I lift up my face and look forward in front of me.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kln605W1r3E (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kln605W1r3E)
The crowd cheers!
I stay there as behind me on the large screen the audience can see a scene of an ancient Roman army in glorious shining iron marching toward their unseen enemies.
LvK: Wow, some spectacular effects for the main event tonight!
RP: That ain't spectacular! That movie is 14 years old!
I finally start to walk down between the roars and cheers of my fans.
I gladly notice tons of "I HATE THE COUNTDOWN" signs and T-shirts around me.
I step off the ramp and stop at ringside. Turning to the crowd, I look around and survey them before using both hands to take off the helmet and show off my pretty face, freeing my dark hair to cascade down onto my shoulders.
I smile and don't waste any time; with a single movement I strip off the large toga to display the outfit I picked for tonight, the big championship night.
Shining gold laced boots that end just below my knees, white booty shorts with gold trim and the ornately scripted letters "E" and "L"printed in gold on each of my firm cheeks. I wear a gold halter top that covers my upper chest, laced behind my neck, cut high to just under my breasts to show off my toned abdomen.
A single gold band wrapped tight around my right bicep completes my outfit.
Two stagehands from the production team are quickly running behind me to take care of the toga and the helmet.
LvK: This is a epic entrance for the Italian competitor Emily Layne!
RP: Yeah, well, remember that the ancient Roman empire ended in an ancient epic fail!
I step regally up the stairs and climb between the ropes before heading to one of the corners, the one closer to the commentary table, and I lithely climb to the middle rope.
I do not wave to my fans but only move my hands down to my waist, curling my fingers and dragging them back in the classic "I want the belt!" gesture, making sure everyone knows what's on my mind for the night!
From this position I point down to the belt at the announce table with my index finger, then again bring my hands down to my waist.
I notice that Rick is glaring up at me, so I smirk and blow him a kiss before jumping off the corner.
RP: THAT'S IT! Don't hold me back, Larry! I'm gonna show her! Don't you DARE hold me back!
LvK: Rick ... I'mm not even touching you!
I move to my corner and stretch my neck and shoulders, working my powerful arms as I await my evil rival.
LvK: The Countdown's contender is going to have to do quite a bit to top THAT entrance.
The lights in the arena go out.
RP: You HAD to open your yap, van Keel...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cAG49M6WPIw
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cAG49M6WPIw)
Synthesized strains of music began to play over the arena's PA system. 10 seconds in, the sound of ticking can be heard, and an animation of the pocket watch from Countdown's logo appeared on the screen. 38 seconds into the song, a percussion beat starts up behind the synthesised chord.
RP: Emily Layne looking at the stage, but also looking over her shoulder as well.
LvK: She's wise to do so. Callista has used the cover of darkness as a prelude to a sneak attack, before!
Standing backstage at Gorilla, I had given thought to doing just that, but I'd abandoned that line of thinking when Megan and Red pulled that trick in the tag match, earlier. Not good to do the same bit twice in one night. Also, there were all sorts of ways to get an edge over your opponent. At one minute in, I slipped through the curtain, moving out onto the still-dark stage, the hood of my sweatshirt pulled over my head.
Between proximity and camera flashes, a few people around the stage area could tell I was there, but it was made clearer at 1:20 when I clicked on the Mag-Lite, holding the torch in my hand and pointing it upwards towards my chin. The clock disappeared as the ticking sound ceased, and it white, large lettering, the screen read "CALLISTA." A chorus of boos rained down upon me.
At 1:55, when a heavy guitar riff kicked in, the strobe lights flashed. I clicked off the torch and tucked it back in the hoodie's pocket as the music built to a crescendo at 2:04, at which point a pyrotechnic explosion occurred around me and the screen above and behind me went white. When the flash cleared, my hood was pulled back, and I was staring hard at my opponent in the ring.
My name remained on the screen, dropped down to the centre bottom of the picture as a montage of shots from my matches (and other combative appearances) were shown. After about 30 seconds of waiting, I strode down the ramp, not taking my eyes off of my opponent until I got down towards the ring, turning a bit and slipping my hoodie up off my head in a smooth, practised motion.
My entrance music wasn't the only thing I'd changed, as underneath I was wearing a black pleather halter top and matching square-cut shorts and boots with orange flames on all of them.
RP: Oh my...
LvK: Watch it, Rick. I think Takei has that copyrighted.
I set the hoodie in my corner and climbed up onto the announce table, ignoring the announcers and glaring out at the screaming fans.
RP: This is just like a dream I had.
LvK: Feel free NOT to tell us about it.
I hopped off of the table, heading for the stairs at a measured pace before stepping over the middle rope and climbing into the ring.
My muscles tense as the lights goes off once again and now I am alone in the ring, in the dark.
I know that anything can happen as I am facing Callista.
But tonight I am ready, I am ready for anything.
She wont catch me surprised, not again.
I watched and re watched all the scenes of her in FTW,and not only here.
You cant predict what is going to happen, but tonight is my night, and Im ready to take my revenge and the championship too.
I look up and see the screen, then the music fills the arena and my eyes are now fixed on the top of the ramp.
My evil rival takes her time, standing there, those seconds are like a eternity for me and I step forward a bit.
Finally she makes her way down, our eyes meet for the first time, until she reaches the end of the ramp.
I am in the ring, hands on my thighs, crouching, lookin ready to get this started and to get my hands on her.
After some more seconds we are both in the ring and I straighten up, not saying a word.
It looks like anything can happen in any moment.
Part of the audience probably is expecting me rushing toward her to ground and pound her, the other part is waiting the opposite, her takin a early advantage with a attack before the bell.
Nothing of these options happen.
The referee moves to the ropes and leans between them to grab the belt, handed by Charlie Guiteau,dressed in his most elegant outfit ever, the ring announcer who starts to talk.
The following contest is set as one fall and its the Main Event of this show!
The winner will be the first ever FTW World Champion!
The referee lifts the belt above his head to show it to anyone in the arena.
The crowd cheers.
I grab the top rope to the side of the corner and pull it with both hands as my eyes are still on my rival.
Introducing first, coming from Milan, Italy, standing at 5'7" and..
There is a hesitation in Charlie words although he tested this over and over in the last week.
His eyes left the paper in front of him and he noticed that I started to walk forward, toward the middle of the ring in Callista direction.
.. weighing at 135 lbs, she is the Italian Gladiatrix. Ladies and Gentlemen, Emilyyyyy Layneeeeeeee
I simply raise up my right arm, closing the fist to welcome the roar from the crowd as I stop myself in the center of the ring, like waiting for my rival here, like in a pre boxing match ritual.
Charlie Guiteau turns to me in his fancy swallow-tailed coat with the gold edging, visibly preening as he savoured his time in the spotlight. As always, he looked a right muppet.
"And in this corner!" said muppet began, "weighing in tonight at one hundred and thirty two pounds, hailing from scenic Salford England," he's obviously never been to Salford, "we have the Founder of the Countdown, the MASTER of ALL SHE SURVEYS ...
CAAAAAAAALLISTAAAAAAAA QUIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN!"
You can't say he doesn't know how to announce properly, though.
LvK: And the first official championship match here in FTW is underway, ladies and gentlemen!
RP: I'm not one to get all friggin' metaphorical, van Keel, but I gotta tell ya, you can FEEL the electricity in the air! It's like summer lightning in the air!
LvK: That's... surprisingly poetic, Rick.
RP: And Callista's ass looks FANTASTIC in those new shorts!
LvK: And you're back.
Emily comes out of her corner, moving with confidence and aggression in her step. She comes right towards me as the bell sounds, looking not to let herself get baited or held off and worked into a submission or out-wrestled.
A good plan...if I hadn't seen it coming a mile away...
As she comes right for me, I let my hands slide off the top rope, starting to circle for a second before pushing off the canvas with my right boot and I lunge forward towards her, swinging my arm up and greeting her with a stiff *CRACK* of my bicep against her jaw that rocks her head backwards.
LvK: Holy COW! Callista Quinn starting off VERY aggressively, lunging straight into Emily Layne with a European uppercut!
RP: I think with these two in the ring it's just called an uppercut. But yeah, that was pretty smooth! And now she's goin' to town on Layne with forearms to the head! I'm lovin' it like a fast-food chain!
LvK: VERY uncharacteristic approach by the leader of the Countdown, but it appears to have Emily Layne rocked back on her heels. Callista is just all over her, relentless, now with a knee strike low into Emily's belly!
RP: And never even comin' close to using a closed fist so the ref can't stop her. Hot damn! I'd marry her if I was a chick.
LvK: Rick I really don't... wait, what?
RP: And it'd be SUPER hot. I'd have a big rack and we'd make out all the time.
LvK: ...
RP: I mean HEY LOOK she hit an elbow to the back of Emily's head!
For some reason I get a sudden and inexplicable urge to kill someone. This must be what it's like to be Megan. Fortunately I'm somewhere I can channel that emotion productively, and Emily staggers back under my assault. I snap a kick into her knee like I was a footballer and the referee was bent in my favour. Her like drops out from under her, and I follow that up by hammering my forearm across her back, making it arch as she groans in pain. My face impassive, I nonetheless relish the sound.
"UGH"
"UGHH"
"UGHHH"
I groan each time Callista hits on my body and head.
I must admit that I wasnt waiting for this start as I never seen her doing this kind of tactic in the first moments of her earlier matches.
The crowd gasps as they see me stumbling back, one knee down and when I straighten up
*BAM*
Another European uppercut to my chin.
I take a step back but the leader of the Countdown follows me, for some more punishment.
This time I block her blow with my left arm, my lips curling in a snarl,showing my teeth as I drive my knee high to her mid section followed by a quick but strong clothesline that caught her enough surprised to send her down!
LVK: And finally Layne starts to counter with a huge clothesline!
RP: How rude!
This time its me that I dont waste time, she is gettin on her feet when I rush forward sending my elbow to her face and follow by moving one hand down between her legs and grip on her bottom (which it causes Rick face to get green in envy) to scoop my taller rival upside down and hold her up for a couple of seconds for a high body slam that sends her down on the mat again!
LVK: Perfect executed body slam from Layne! And Quinn is on her back again now, for the audience joy!
RP: you dont have any professionalism! She is on her ass, and what a great ass she has!
LVK: We already got your point about that Perle
My rival reaches for her back with one hand before getting up,this time a bit slower than before but I am not going to allow her to give her time to think, I move quick again and send my boot to her knee, before wrapping my strong arms around her body, not wanting to give her any time to plan a counter.
My right hand tightly grip on my left wrist and I harden my muscles, bending my knees low before flipping her over my body in a belly to belly supkex release that makes the ring shakes after the impact!
LVK: Wow! Emily Layne makes sure that anyone knows whats her tactic for tonight! She wants to wear her opponent down with some power moves!
RP: This is a championship match my friend, tactics are useless tonight!
LVK: since when we are friend?
I take a look around and see the audience on the first rows cheering up and wild.
I kinda ignore them and not taunt them.
Its time to go on with the plan and I nipup and head to my rival, focusing on her and on the next move
I have a moment as I'm snapped overhead before I crash into the mat to appreciate how, after all these years in rings around the world, I still loathe being suplexed. There's a soundless snarl that briefly colours my expression as I arch my back instinctively and start to rise to my feet, trying to get my bearings before Layne has time to pile into me again. Unfortunately, if there is one thing you can rely on in both wrestling and traffic along the Riviera when you're driving a rental, it's that an Italian will crash into you at the very first available opportunity.
RP: And Layne is on her like arrabiata on spaghetti! Hot and SPICY!
LvK: Do we really need to relive the "gazpacho soup" incident from when we called a La Santa match, Rick?
Emily drives a shoulder into me and gets me up and off my boots before I can stop her, lifting me under my arms and then slamming me down onto my back. It's not exactly the most efficient way to do a spinebuster, but I've got my chin tucked to keep from getting a whiplash concussion, so now's not the best time to criticise the woman on her technique. I roll to my side, tucking one hand behind myself, emphasizing the pain in my back.
The Italian immediately bends to drag me up, hooking my arm behind her head and bunching a fist in my shorts, making them ride up my arse enough that I can almost feel Rick Perle's greasy eyes leaving a snail's trail on my skin, and tenses her legs for a vertical suplex. Bending at the knees, I'm mentally resolving to buy a pair of tights for this look when I feel a lift coming, and I push upward. The momentum pushes me up and over my opponent, and a twist in the air gets me facing her when I land.
There's all manner of things I can do in this position, but I'm keeping to a strategy that isn't my norm. There's no time to think, so I take a page from Gemma, who doesn't generally think when she's wrestling anyway, and I grab hold of Emily's shoulders, using the bounce from my landing to propel my legs back off of the mat, I throw my weight backwards and pull my knees upward towards my chest, yanking Layne backwards and driving her back down into my knees.
LvK: OHHHHH, that was BRUTAL! Callista Quinn drops Emily Layne with a DEVASTATING lungblower, ending her rally!
RP: That was a new one for ol' Lex Luthor.
LvK: Probably not a comparison you want Quinn to hear, Rick.
RP: Why not? She's brilliant, she's almost a lock to be the first FTW World Champion, she's in charge of the most dominant stable in wrestling, and she has a fantastic ass.
LvK: That's...are you saying Lex Luthor has a fantastic ass?
RP: I...uh...CALL THE DAMN MATCH, VAN KEEL!
Em topples off my bent knees with a satisfying groan, and I go right to work, rolling over to my knees behind her. A hand on her hip and another on her shoulder secures her in place, and I get the night's efforts fully underway by driving my left knee into the small of her back with care and precision a few times.
Once again Callista is shocking the audience, after that brutal impact of her knees against my back she moves to me, quick and takes advantage on my temporarily dazed state to secure me still and slam her knee against my back, hitting the same spot.
Once, twice, then a third time.
Warm breathe is expelled by my opened mouth as the pain on my back increases.
LVK: Quinn shows a new angle of her, she is hitting Layne s back with some powerful shots using her knee and the Italian Gladiatrix looks helpless in this moment
RP: She is just smart, unpredictable, thats why I think that the world needs more Callista Quinn and less Emily Layne
LVK: I just hope that we have only one Rick Perle
RP: I am inimitable
LVK sighs of relief
Callista stops her action and I roll a couple of steps away and make my way on my knees.
My taller rival is already behind me, from this position the first thing that gets in my mind is to drive my elbow back once, then again.
I must admit that sometime you need some luck in those kind of situations and this time Im lucky enough to catch her toned abdomen and stop her while she was about to set one kind of submission hold to hurt my back some more.
I bite my lower lip to eat some pain I feel in my back and turn to face my rival as she is once again marching toward me.
This time I block her arm with my left wrist, stopping her attempt of uppercut and I swing my right arm into her chest with a quick but efficacious chop to her chest.
LVK: Layne is countering now using the same money. Another big CHOP, and another one!
The crowd emphasizes each blow with a roar as I force Quinn almost into one of the corner.
My movements are quick, my hands lunge forward and grab Callista right wrist.
I spin my body, bulging the muscles of my back and arms and put all effort I have on whipping her body hardly into the opposite corner of the ring.
Her body crushes there against the buckle but thats not the better part.
The better comes when I impact with my right hip against her belly as I started to run after her to not give her time to block or avoid me!
LVK: Quinn got pancaked in the corner between the buckles and Emily s body like the banana between two French Toasts!
RP: whats that crap?
LVK: its yummy! You should try!
RP: I prefer the banana in other ways
LVK: Im not gonna investigate about that!
My body stumbles backwards two short steps before I quickly lunge forward and grab Callista wrist again and quickly whip her body into the opposite corner for another Irish whip into the corner and running into her again, jumping off and turn to the side for a second hip smash against her skinny tall body!
The second impact forces her to emit a wonderful groan from her lips and her body slumps down in a sitting position into the corner.
I lick my lower lip in anticipation as I perfectly know what to do now.
I bring the palm of my right hand up to my mouth and stick out my tongue like I am licking my hand before slapping the side of my hip with a hard spank, taunting the crowd before running again toward my rival.
LVK: its gonna be Heaven Sent time Perle!
RP: Oh No! That move is illegal!
I let the side of my hip roughly slamming against the side of Callista head, smashing it against and over the middle buckle with a nasty hip smash that makes the crowd going banana in the arena!
It wasn't the first time I've had an Italian's arse in my face, and as I enjoy the shopping in Milan, it likely wouldn't be the last. Still, as Emily's hip crashed into my cheek, pressing my forehead up against the thin padding covering the turnbuckle, I had to admit this had a bit more force and urgency than your average handsy Milanese.
RP: No! Don't do that! Callista's brain is a national treasure and her second-best feature!
LvK: Do I even want to-
RP: Her ass.
LvK: Of course.
After a few more of those hip-checks, I slumped down to the mat, fighting off a wave of dizziness after the compressions of my cranium, trying to take a deep breath and normalise my circulation. I only had time for one though, before Emily's fingers made a grab for my hair. They didn't find much purchase, of course, (one reason I keep it short,) and so settled for getting one hand under my chin, pulling me up off of the mat.
As before, I came up a bit faster than she'd intended, and this time, instead of counter-wrestling, I went the more straightforward route, (by a certain definition,) and jammed my right thumb into her eye.
LvK: A blatant thumb to the eye from the self-proclaimed Saviour of Wrestling. I suppose you condone that?
RP: Condone what? I didn't see anything...(and neither did Layne! heh heh)
The referee got in between us as Emily staggered away, grabbing for the ropes with her left hand to steady herself while her right eye went to her face. I raised my arms, took a step partly backwards (and partly to the side) as the ref admonished me fiercely, before charging forward past him, reaching for a handful of Emily's shoulder-length locks and pulling backwards, bending her back a bit before thrusting her face into the top corner pad.
Back and forth, back and forth. I got my second hand in there to make sure I had as much power as possible when slamming my opponent's head into the corner. Again the ref yelled at me, but I ignored him until he started to count. I let him get to four and got one last head-smash in before quickly letting go, raising my arms up and taking a half-step backwards. The ref again moved to interpose himself between us as Emily turned around, but before he could, I bent my right arm and through it forward, clattering the side of Layne's face with my elbow.
RP: An absolutely VICIOUS elbow to the back of the head there by Callista!
LvK: She's known as a technical grappler, but we haven't seen a lot of that so far, Rick.
RP: That's smart strategy, Larry. Never do what your opponent expects you to do. That's a page right out of The Art of War.
LvK: I never figured you for a history buff.
RP: I'm not, but I bullied some dork into writing me a paper on it back in college.
LvK: Lovely.
Emily slumped back into the corner, arms over the ropes, as I moved in towards her once more.
The not very friendly meetings between my face and the top buckle of the corner dazed me, not to mention the last elbow blow to the side of my face when I was tryin to get away from the corner.
The impact forces me back into the corner, this time with my back and ass against the buckles, my eyes closing and re opening like in the Sunday mornin hangover when you wake up after a Saturday crazy night.
I kinda need some seconds to re group but of course my evil rival isnt very agree with it and the ref isnt very helpful!
My arms are draped over the top ropes when I feel Callista hand mockingly cupping my chin and lift my face up,not saying anything.
Before I know I found myself trapped against the corner with the sole of her right boot pressing against my throat.
Her hands holding the top rope as she gives some extra weight to the move by standing with her left boot over the top rope.
With already a weight advantage herself the corner foot choke that she is applying on me becomes even more nasty as my feet are easily forced up off of the mat!
LVK: Oh my Goodness! Quinn is brutally choking Layne with her foot into the corner! The gravity isnt very helpful for the Italian amazon now!
RP: Look at those legs! Look at that ass! I was dreaming about this move since I saw those shorts!
LVK: Perle! We are here to call the match!
My right hand goes on Callista ankle to try to ease the pressure, my face shows my trouble now as only the four count of the ref saves me by the brutal action.
Once again the zebra man admonish my rival, but she really doesnt care about him,not even mocking him with one of her taunts.
She focuses on me and once again passes next to the ref only to set my arms again over the top rope.
This time though I get them free in time before she sets her next move and I extend them forward against her face going for a not very legal,but efficacious eye rake that makes her groans and staggers back behind it.
RP: And another blatant eye attack from Layne! I told you! This girl must be stopped!
LVK: The eye thumb of before was from Callista!
RP: Really? You sure?
LVK: Sometime I really wonder if we watch the same match!
RP: me too!
My hand rubs one last time my throat before I push forward, leaving the corner as Callista is moving toward me, not very happy about my last move if I can tell!
As our bodies are close enough I bend downward and drive my right arm between her legs, straighten up and flip her over me of behind me in a big impact move.
LVK: Samoan drop from Emily Layne! And the ring was shaking!
I try to be quick and get on my feet, not caring too much to the roars coming from the audience, happy to see me back in the leading after the corner work of before.
As Callista is getting up too, I "help" her and grab her right arm before moving behind her.
My right wrist passes between her arm and side, trapping it behind her back as I try to do the same with her left one.
Its not easy to perform a double arm chicken wing on a rival tall like her, even worse after all those impacts into the top buckle but I bulge my muscles and bend backward to lift my taller rival up off the mat.
LVK: Uh Oh! It looks like we are about to see the Falling Angel trademark from Layne!
I feel my arms being pulled behind me, and I smile. "Signature moves" to a counter-wrestler are cues to use the counter you'd planned ahead of time. Strong as Emily is, my height advantage limits her leverage on the chicken wing. When I feel her bend her knees to try and lift me up, I do the same. When she lifts, I jump off of the mat, lifting my legs and kicking them back behind me and locking them around Emily's waist.
My weight suddenly unbalanced Emily forwards, and she let go of my arms to try to steady herself, at which point I jackknifed my upper body downwards, rolling forward and grabbing for Emily's ankles as my legs caught up with the roll. The momentum of the effective somersault threw Emily forward. With her legs taken out from under her, she face-planted into the mat.
LvK: Holy Toledo! Callista just countered the Falling Angel into...into...does that even HAVE a name? What do you call that?!
RP: You call it AWESOME, van Keel!
Still holding onto Emily's legs, I turned us around, getting her onto her back, and pushing upward with both legs to try to stack her up on her shoulders. Seeing the first pinfall attempt, the referee drops into position, giving a last look at Emily's shoulders before slapping the mat and counting "ONE!"
RP: Here we go! New champio-
LvK: It wasn't even a two count, Perle!
I didn't expect to get the pinfall, here. I was after the psychological advantage of going for the fall first, and to force Emily to expend the effort to push out of it. Getting up to my feet, I gave Emily a solid kick in the temple, then set about deliberately arguing with the referee. "I must say," I said, giving the Yank the full Oxford overlay, "Your count's pace seemed decidedly on the leisurely side!"
"It was a one count, Callista!" the stalwart young fellow answered, holding up a single index finger as if I needed the visual aid to process his response.
I turned my head to look back at Emily, mostly checking on her progress as she slowly pushed up to her knees, but I incorporated it into the pantomime I was going through for the ref's benefit. "Oh yes, the woman who can't stand clearly kicked out at one," I said, putting a sneer on my face and in my voice. "Are you local? Because if you're from the same area these drooling morons in the stands are, then I should like to see some proof that you can count to three!"
The ref got a little red-faced, and he set off on a tirade of admonishment. I stole another glance behind me, and interrupted, leaning my face close to his and saying, "LISTEN YOU!" while throwing my right leg back behind me, aiming a mule kick between Emily's legs which struck something, eliciting a pained groan from behind me and boos from the crowd. "I've got to get back to work!" I finished, turning around.
LvK: Didn't see it, right?
RP: The slow count? Of course I did! Callista should file a grievance.
LvK: *audible sigh*
With Emily bent over, I grabbed for her hair with both hands, pulling her towards me as I stepped backwards, saying, "Did you enjoy your face-time with the top turnbuckle, love?" When I got to where I wanted near the corner, I stopped, standing her up saying, "No? Maybe the middle's more to your liking," and I lifted her right arm up with my left, getting my left arm around her right shoulder and then throwing my weight backwards.
RP: REVERSE STO! Layne's head bounced off that turnbuckle like an overcooked meatball!
LvK: Oh THAT you saw.
RP: Don't be bitter.
This time I went for a serious pin, hooking Emily's far leg and pressing my weight onto her shoulders. The ref slid down, checked, and raised his arm, slapping the canvas. "ONE!.........TWO!....."
Everyone in the arena (except the ones in the ring) is holding their breathe as the ref slaps his hand down on the mat twice.
Then a gasp comes as I lift my right shoulder and I beat the count.
LVK: only two count!
RP: that was close Van Keel!
The reverse STO was,again, unexpected by the leader of The Countdown.
She looks up and glare to the ref who is showing two fingers to her and to the audience.
This time she doesnt waste any time to argue with him and she gets up, helping me with her by grabbing my hair and force me with her to the closest ropes.
Im still kind of groggy as she drags my head over the bottom rope,carefully placing my throat over the cold rope.
Both her hands are on the top rope as she plants her right knee on my upper back and choke me again, this time using the rope as a weapon.
My hands sayin on the rope as the ref quickly rushes next to us and start a quick count.
RP: It looks like the ref learnt to count in these seconds!
LVK: Callista again using a illegal choke on Layne and the ref is doing what he is paid for! His job!
The camera pans on my face, mouth opened, tryin to look for some oxygen, eyes closed and squeezed, pain painted through my face.
The cameraman must be the son of a *beep* of FTW Fury 2, it looked like he was enjoying me trapped in Punky Dollbreaker
...Hey what the *beep*..
They are censoring my thoughts!
This broadcast is powerful!
Quinn releases me when the count hits four and she starts to say something to the referee.
I take advantage to get some breathe and sneaking outside the ring on one knee., facing the ring with my hands rubbing my throat.
Callista is done arguing with the ref when she turns and she doesnt find me anymore, just to glare at the ref and pointing at me like saying its all his fault!
RP: Typical of the Italians, when they see trouble, they run away! Like in the World Wars!
LVK: that wasn't exactly that!
The ref doesnt even have the time to start the count as Callista is climbing between the ropes (for Perle joy) and marches toward me and as soon she is close enough I lunge forward and extend my right balled fist in a low uppercut that makes the crowd gasps out!
RP: Oh no! And how do you call it Larry?
LVK: Layne isnt new to this kind of blows if I have to be honest! But after all what she got in the last weeks from The Countdown...
RP: you are such a hypocrite!
My rival staggers back and I move to her.
"Time to meet some metal honey!" I snarl. Both hands grabbing her left wrist and I spin around, my knee almost touching the floor as I put all effort I can in a huge irish whip that sends Callista roughly impacting against the steel barricade that separates the ring area from the fans!
"And now time to meet your fans!"
I straighten up and follow the whip by running against her and jump off the mat with my right arm in a brutal running clothesline that send my British rival flipping over the barricade before roughly crushing down against the concrete floor where there aren't many heel s supporters!
I went end-over-end over the barricade, my arse smacking the unyielding concrete floor hard. I wouldn't precisely call it a targeted attack following that low blow, but I definitely had a good deal of pain to deal with from the same general area.
That said, I might have a bigger problem to deal with. I was out amongst the punters, and from the sounds around me, I didn't have too many fans in this section. Every wrestling story I've ever heard that includes the phrase "and then an old lady tried to stab me" took place either in Mexico or in the Southern United States. Something unique to third-world hell-holes, I supposed.
Somewhat oddly, I could swear I heard a chant of my name starting, but eventually someone in the section with all his teeth managed to enunciate "Callie sucks" clearly enough for me to tell. The chants were fine, but as I struggled back to my feet, several local drunken morons pushed towards me, intent on giving me either a piece of their minds, (likely not, I suspected they had none to spare,) or possibly a thrashing none of them would be capable of outside of a lynch mob.
Thankfully, another small cadre of meat heads, these ones wearing the black collared polo shirts that most of the fans probably saved for church services and eating at Red Lobster or other such (by their standards) ritzy affairs, intervened. Security, staffed mostly by off-duty police officers who accepted exorbitant wages for minimal service in lieu of other shake downs, had arrived.
Mentally saluting Greensboro's finest, (or at least, Greensboro's least embarrassing,) I backed away from the angry fans, waiting for the feel of the barricade behind me before leaping back into the relative safety of the ring area. Unfortunately, the relativity of that was questionable, since before I could, I felt myself grabbed from behind and dragged back over the barricade. Before I could get back up, Emily landed a painful kick to my side. I clenched my teeth and curled up a bit, clutching at the spot the blow landed, wincing in pain.
"FIVE!" the referee counted as Emily grabbed me by my head again. Was she...yes, she was wrapping my left arm around her head, going for a vertical suplex again. Was she trying to target my back, or was this just the only move she knew? In any case, she held tightly onto my head, determined not to let me repeat the counter I used previously.
Which would be a problem if I only knew one counter to the vertical suplex.
In this case, I balled my right hand into a fist, and when she started to lift me up off of the ground, I slammed said fist right into her side, just under her rib cage. The sudden jolt to her core muscles interrupted the move, and she wasn't able to get me over her. I let my legs drop back downwards, then threw my weight backwards, the grip on her neck pulling her face-down to the floor in a DDT that sent her rolling forward onto her back.
RP: You CAN'T SUPLEX CALLISTA!
LvK: Like two people are going to get that reference, Rick.
"SEVEN!" the ref counted. I got to my feet, gave Emily a solid kick to the side of the head, then rolled under the ropes, getting to my feet and raising my arms, taking my plaudits, which I received in the form of hearty boos and semi-coherent swearing. "HEY!" the ref said, taking the time to give me a lecture about some unimportant thing. This time, arguing with him was no pantomime.
"WOULD YOU DO YOUR BLOODY JOB AND COUNT THE BITCH OUT?" I shouted.
It only prompted the response of "You don't tell me what to do! I'm the referee, and I-" I stopped listening. Whether this was payback for my rule-breaking earlier, or whether he was under orders not to allow a finish like this, it was clear a count-out victory wasn't in the cards for me. I scowled and let him rant, taking advantage of the time to get a breather, at least.
Sure enough, the referee resumed counting once Emily had found her feet, and Emily rolled slowly under the bottom rope before the count of ten. I was over that, and when she tried to push up to her hands and knees, I landed another kick to the side of her head, dropping her once more. The idiot fans booed that perfectly legal tactic, of course.
LvK: They're certainly letting Callista know how they feel about her in Greensboro.
RP: No one worth knowing has ever cared how people in Greensboro feel about them.
I dragged Emily back towards the corner. "In your turnbuckle tour, I do believe we missed one," I said as I grabbed Emily's wrists, pulling her arms straight back behind her. I placed my right foot in between Emily's shoulder blades, saying, "Let's fix that," before putting all my weight on that foot and letting go of Emily's arms.
RP: FACING ETERNITY!
LvK: And then some! Callie just curbstomped Emily's face right into the bottom turnbuckle!
I dropped down to my knees, pulling Emily over onto her back and away from the ropes, hooking the leg and lifting one arm as the ref counted, counting along with him on my fingers. "ONE! TWO!..."
After an impact like the one I just had against the bottom buckle, its normal to go for the easier solution.
The corner of my eye looks to the side,noticing that the rope is close enough to my foot.
I lift it up and place it over the bottom rope.
"..TH..." the count stops
"she has the rope!" the ref points to my foot and interrupts the count.
LVK: Layne smartly puts her foot over the bottom rope, the match is still on!
RP: This woman is such a lucky *beep*
That curbstomp dazed me and I lay down, my right hand wipe my hair off of my forehead and there is some blood over my fingers.
Callista screams at the ref again as the camera shows the little cut on my forehead.
RP: if this was a First Blood match. Quinn would have already been our champion Van Keel!
LVK: but it isnt!
RP: Still she may have some kind of Italian disease! She may be contagious!
LVK: Oh come on!
RP: Seriously, we may become all like her! I dont want to be a pizza eater and a mandolin player!
LVK: Lemme know when you will get back us Perle! Meanwhile Callista has Layne against in the corner!
I dont know why but it looks like Quinn wants me to flirt with the buckles tonight.
I am dragged chest first into the corner, my rival bends forward, with her hands solidly grabbing the middle rope, she carefully lands her right shoulder against my back in the same spot she worked with her knees before!
Once, twice.
Only to get counted again by the referee!
This time the count hits three before my evil rival has hands on my hair again and turn me around and bend me forward with a kick on my inner thigh.
When I feel her grabbing one arm to hook it behind my back I realize that I must do something.
I know this move and I need to get of this quick!
RP: Get ready Van Keel! The Time is up!
LVK: Quinn is ready to go for her finisher..but wait, look at this! Layne fights back and she gets one arm free!
I bulged my muscles and tug them hard, getting free, the plan was to wrap my free arms around Callista thighs and flip her backwards but I stumbles backwards and end on my knees, still visibly groggy cause that damn curbstomp into the corner!
Quinn is again on me and roughly shoving me back again into the corner.
The crowd tryin to incite me and starts to chant my name as she uses her shoulder and arms to lift me up and get my body over the top buckle in a sitting position.
"no no wait!" those are the only words coming from the referee mouth as Callista is climbing the ropes, getting over the middle one and standing with her feet in the rope!
LVK: I cant believe it! Quinn is settling Layne for a move from the top of the corner!
When her hand slides to my booty shorts I instinctively react, again driving my hand on her face for a second eye rake that cause her to release the grip on me.
I cant think too much, I need to use my instinct, and it says me to wrap my arms around her waist, putting as much effort I can to lift her up and off of the ropes before jumping off the corner in a top rope spinebuster!
LVK and RP: HOLY COW!
The crowd reacts with a groan mixed to a roar that fills the arena as our bodies land into the mat with a terrific impact.
My body topples off of Callista s body.
The ref just looks at us, shocked by what just happened.
I lay on my back, chest moving up and down before I roll to my side and bring my body over Callista one for my first pin of the match!
"One..Two.."
The bump I took landing in the ring was a brutal one. I tried to tuck my chin to my chest, but the force of the impact whipped my head back against the mat anyway. For a moment, my head swam, and all I could do was lie there. When I was able to focus again, Emily was on top of me and I heard the impact of the referee's hand with the canvas.
There was a moment of panic as I didn't really have my wind back. My eyes darted around, getting my position down, and then I kicked my leg to the side, sliding my left boot under the bottom rope and hooking it with my toes. "Ropes!" I croaked out weakly.
Thankfully, the ref saw my foot there and stopped his count. "Ropes! She's in the ropes! Two count!" he said, and I slumped back a bit gratefully, letting my foot drop to the mat. I was given only a few moments of peace, though, as I was then rolled over and dragged up off of the mat.
Figuring she'll go for another power move, I waited, conserving my energy, the move was clear. Unfortunately, she varied her offence, instead bending me backwards and locking her arm under my chin.
LvK: PEARLY GATES!
RP: COME ON CALLIE, BREAK IT!
I felt my breath shorten instantly as her arm locked into place. Again I tried to look around, but bent backwards like this, it takes a second to re-orient. Looking backwards, the ropes seemed so far away...too far, in fact. I kicked my legs upward, flailing them a bit, just managing to get hold of the middle rope (I think) with my boots.
"Ropes!" The ref again said. "Break the hold, Emily!" I felt myself yanked backwards, my feet dropping down to the mat, my body following, but with the arm still locked around me. "Come on! Break it!" the ref ordered. "One...Two..."
"She isn't in the ropes anymore!" Emily argued, but the ref kept counting.
"Three...Four..." For a second I thought I was about to back into a win, but Emily let go, and I dropped back down to the mat, my mouth opening as I breathed sharp, quick breaths.
Emily repeated her previous assertion, but the ref responded, "You never broke the hold!"
LvK: Emily has to be careful there, because a disqualification would have made Callista the champ. The referee, correctly, breaking up the sleeper hold after Callista's foot got to the ropes.
RP: Give that man a raise, Commissioner!
LvK: She could take it out of your salary.
RP: I meant cut his pay. And cut van Keel's, too!
LvK: Ass.
As I lay there, catching my breath, I couldn't help but smirk at the fact that it was heels who knew the rules best, because you have to know them to break them! Eventually, the rest break ended, as Emily again reached down to pick me up off of the ground, still jawing with the referee.
LvK: It's in Italian, but I think it's fair to assume that Emily Layne has some choice words for our official.
RP: I think she was offering to make him some pasta.
LvK: ...what?
RP: DISQUALIFY HER FOR TRYING TO BRIBE THE REFEREE!
LvK: I have never been more embarrassed to sit next to you. And just think about the magnitude of that statement.
By the time I was almost up, I was ready, and I moved into action. I stood straight up, throwing my right arm around the back of Layne's head and pulling her down into a headlock. In a second swift motion, I stepped to the right a bit, turning to put my body between my opponent and the ref, and jerked my left arm up sharply, spiking my extended thumb into Emily's throat.
The boos from the half of the crowd that saw that erupted, but I had no time to enjoy it. Instead, I shot my left hand in between Emily's legs, lifting her up off of the mat. When I had her weight up onto my shoulder, I brought that hand around her waist instead, leaning her forward a bit and dropping straight down onto my arse.
RP: Callista going for a body slam-no, wait, it's a-
LvK: FIIIYYAAAA THUNDAH DRIIIIVAAAAAHHHHHH!!!
RP: ...did you just pretend to be Japanese?
LvK: ...No! Shut up! No!
When I dropped Layne on her head, I pushed forward, getting her onto her back, and quickly rolling myself on top of her. I made the cover, and the ref dropped down! "ONE!....TWO!" the ref started, but I felt Layne's body shift underneath me, and her right arm shot upwards, stopping the ref's count.
I slapped the mat and let out a curse of frustration.
I shake my head and roll to the side, my right hand rubs on my throat, punished more than once in this match.
Now its more evident to anyone that my forehead has a cut, a trickle of blood is reaching down my mouth and chin.
I slap my hand down in the mat and its clear in my face expression that Im not very happy on how the match is going, the last two count was very close. I did the mistake to make it happen too close the ropes, i mentally mote that i wont do it again!
When I am up, Callista is already on me and I welcome her with a uppercut aimed to her face.
The sudden punch catches her surprised enough to make her stumble back and I follow with a second punch which is blocked by her left elbow and followed by a right uppercut that makes my head snaps to the side.
My fingers reach for my lips as I look forward, like I am lookin the crowd.
That looks like she has just challenged me in that, i couldn't ask for better as I turn and aim a second blow to her face.
The crowd emphasizes my punch with a big roar, followed though by a gasp as Callista hits me back with a elbow smash.
We go on like that for some seconds, the audience underlines my shots with loud
YAYYYY
And reacts to Quinn ones with as much loud
BOOOO
LVK: This scene reminds me that boxing match between Alì and Foreman in Kinshasa!
RP: are you talkin about that one when someone ripped his rival ear with his teeth?
LVK: That happened many years later Perle!
RP: Im impressed!
LVK: By what?
RP: you're such a old ass Van Keel!
I hits two big right uppercuts once after the other that make my taller rival stumbles backwards toward the corner.
I extend my hands forward and firmly grabbing her jaw
"I think you should make that tour too! All in one!" I snarl and roughly turning her body around and make her lands hard into the turnbuckle!
Her body staggers back after the impact and Im ready to catch her, my arms around her body, wrapping and locking my hands tight and bending my knees low.
"lets see how you like it!"
I lift her up in the air, as high I can and hold her there grunting, as my body bend backwards,using all effort I can as I move like in slowmotion before makin sure to slam her back hard into the mat in a delayed German suplex and holding her there with her legs over her body for the pin, my still locked hands over her chest.
LVK: A German suplex followed by the pin! One, two!
RP: And Callista kicks out!
The ref signals the two count pointing two fingers up
"Ungggh," I groaned as I was hauled up off of the mat. I know to tuck my chin on back bumps, but the high angle of the suplex meant the back of my head still smacked the mat hard. The smartest person in the ring (and I saw no reason to assume that wasn't me) can still have their game plan disrupted if they get their bell rung hard enough.
By the time I was able to start to form fully coherent thoughts again, I was being thrown into the corner. I turned, taking the landing on my back, a grunt escaping my lips as I bounced off the thin pads, grabbing hold of the top rope to steady myself.
Across the ring, Emily was backing into the opposite corner, setting herself and then charging towards me. My head ached just thinking about moving, but I forced myself to push through the pain, stepping out of that corner (to my opponent's obvious surprise) and reaching for her waist, catching her with both arms and arresting the motion of her upper body, letting the momentum of her legs throw themselves upward and her backwards, sticking my right leg out and dropping us both down, the small of her back crashing down across my knee.
RP: That's the best back-breaker I've seen since I gave one to Mascarita Sagrada in Juarez back in 92!
LvK: ...Wasn't he a midget wrestler?
RP: They prefer the term "minis", van Keel.
LvK: Not really the point.
Emily was down, holding her back, but I was down as well, falling down to my arse after she rolled off of my knee. I'd have pushed forward to try to lay myself across her and attempt a pin, if only to force her to expend the energy to kick out, but I was still woozy from the suplex. By the time I could start to move, she was rising as well.
I got to my feet, lifting my hands up as we began anew.
LVK: Quinn and Layne get up in the same moment, they both are tired but this is the main event of this show, and this will crown the first ever FTW World champion!
I rub my back, once again it took a big impact against Quinn bend knee and it hurts bad now.
Callista comes in and goes again to drive a uppercut to my head but I block it between the enthusiasm of the crowd and drive my elbow forward, followed by a left uppercut to her throat.
LVK: it seems that Layne now is more aggressive and this point of the match it could be an advantage!
RP: but she doesnt have the brilliant brain of Callista, Van Keel!..neither that sexy ass!
LVK: Oh God...
I dont want to get again in another punching contest and I trade some quick but still hard blows.
Those boxing years in the gyms of Padua are helping me now and the shots are sending Callista once again back into the ropes.
It doesnt seem she is able to react and seeing my prey there makes my eyes burning red as I see the chance to punish her for all I received during the last months.
I grab the middle rope with both hands and hammer my shoulder into her body, once, twice before grabbing her head with both hands and drive my bleeding forehead forward.
LVK: Holy smoke! A brutal headbutt from Layne!
RP: COME ON REF! THIS PSYCHO GIRL MUST BE STOPPED NOW! SHE IS ON THE ROPES!
Quinn is visibly dazed and she doesnt find time to protect herself from my next two uppercuts followed by my knee coming for her belly that force her to double forward before I shove her hard back into the buckles. The impact makes her body slumping down in a sitting position.
"okay Emily, thats enough, she is on the ropes" the ref warns be, with a worried tone as he is losing control of the match.
"where were you the last weeks uh?" I reply him with a angry tone,almost screaming in his face before turning around again to Callista, my hands grabbing the top rope as I take leverage before sending another knee smash, this time violently hitting her head and make it snaps to the side against the middle buckle.
RP: TAKE THIS *BEEP* OUT OF THERE!
The ref steps in and I finally back off as he is checking for my rival
LVK: I think that Layne had some anger to outburst, and she isnt the only one here I guess!
RP: where she thinks to be? In some kind of Milan ports?
LVK: Milan isnt even close to the sea!
RP: whatever!
I point one fist up in the air, panting hard and wipe some other blood off my face, this time I dont smack my hip to call the Heaven Sent but its clear what I have in mind to the audience here who is rallying me, finally seeing someone that is punishing the big evil mind of The Countdown.
I take a step backwards and sprint forward as fast I can, this time Im planning to cut her head off of her shoulders!
The ref was still checking on me in the corner when Emily crossed the ring, charging at me full speed. I grabbed hold of the man's shirt, pulling him after me as I dodged out of the corner. Emily crashed hard into him, and he crumpled to the mat.
RP: Good riddance!
LvK: What?
RP: The ref! I never liked him anyway.
LvK: What is with the past tense? He's not dead! ... I think?
While Emily stared open-mouthed at the unconscious referee, I was already in motion. I dropped down to the ground, rolling out underneath the bottom rope, and landed in a squat, lifting up the ring apron. While I was ostensibly looking for a weapon, in point of fact I was keeping my eyes on Emily. Sure enough, she'd seen what I was doing, and was coming after me.
As she slid feet-first under the bottom rope, I dove into the ring, abandoning my erstwhile search for a weapon, instead reaching into the corner for one that I already KNEW was there. Digging into the pocket of my hoodie, I retrieved the Mag-Lite and stood up, turning to face Emily. She had the ring apron up, proving that even the ideas I DON'T use are better than the ones anyone else can come up with.
I lean forward, reaching through the ropes, intending to clatter her one in the back of the head, but unlike Gemma at the bar, I get a faceful of wood for my troubles.
LvK: And Callista's plan works against her as Emily cracks that wooden kendo stick across her forehead.
RP: Why are those even there? Is this where the Greensboro kendo club meets on Tuesdays and Thursdays?
LvK: If so, they may want to induct a new member, because Emily's back in the ring and she looks mad.
For the first time in this match one of us move outside the ring, we needed to have the referee out cold do it as we both know how much the prize is important tonight.
After a frustrated slap on the mat I saw Callista moving outside and lift the apron to look for something there and I didn't take too long to move there too and continue the punishment to The Countdown leader but she smartly (and cowardly) dives back in the ring leaving the job half done as the apron is still up when I got down there and see the Kendo stick there, like asking to be brought.
How can I disappoint it?
As Callista lunges to me to hit me with the maglight I anticipate her and the wooden stick lands on her forehead causing another gasp from the audience.
I climb the ropes as she is still stumbling backwards and I don't waste anytime, moving forward and using the stick like a baseball bat aiming at Quinn belly and makes her double forward before aiming another shot to her back.
With my rival down on her knees and hand I am sure that in this moment the 96% of the people in the arena wants to be me.
The other 3,9999999 is praying for a miracle and the 0,0000001 is sleeping!
LVK: it looks like Emily Layne isn't satisfied yet! She wants payback and she wants it now!
RP: this woman must be stopped! Arrested even! Damn, when it's needed, the referees are always sleeping!
Callista turns and for the first time I see a new look in her eyes.
The trusty maglite, the weapon that used to knock her rivals out, fell off her hands and it's useless, away from her.
Panic and some fear, but that doesn't stop me! On the contrary is giving me even more energies and fight the pain I feel in my back.
I lift the wooden stick over my head with both hands before crushing it down against my rival.
One, two, three times. Each blow is followed by a loud roar
Callista body is helpless and a last shot to her head makes her body lays on the side!
My body is in tension and I lift the kendo stick high to taunt the crowd on.
I throw the weapon away and kneel behind Quinn body. I solidly hook her left arm with mine and wrap my right arm across her throat!
"The Countdown is over!"I snarl between heavy pants and lock my finisher again
LVK: PEARLY GATES!!! AGAIN!
RP: Oh *beep*
I bulge the muscle of my arm and lock in tight, pushing my knee in the middle of her back as her right hand flails at me trying to blindly reach for my face.
I squeeze hard and eventually let my ass drops back in a sitting position and wrap my legs around her body in a dragon sleeper-body scissors combo!
I feel her strength fading away as her mouth can't find air anymore.
Suddenly her hand taps against my arm, then tapping the mat too signaling the submission!
The crowd is going crazy, everyone is on their feet and there is a deafening noise in the arena.
LVK: QUINN TAPS OUT! THE MATCH IS OVER! EMILY LAYNE IS THE FTW WORLD CHAMPION!
RP: chill Van Keel! No one called for the bell! The match is still on!
LVK: Oh no!
RP: there are rules to follow!
LVK: I hate you! What were you saying about referees and sleeping before?
RP: who? Me?
I release the hold, ready to get up and celebrate the title.
I am on my knees, my hands on my thighs and my ass rests on my heels.
The inertia of the moment made me forget that the ref isn't awake and he didn't see anything about what just happened.
" *BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP* " I curse and slap the mat in anger and frustration.
Callista isn't moving and there is still room to go for the pin but first I must need to revive the official.
I crawl to him and grab his shirt.
"Hey you! Come on! Wake up! You better do it!" I menace him, my face red and angry.
I want to scream as the dragon sleeper is placed upon me, but with my waist scissored between Emily's legs, I don't dare. I can't afford to spare the breath. It's hard to even form coherent thoughts right now, let alone strategy. I can't see the ropes, not that I'm certain I could reach them even if I could. With me off of my feet, and bent backwards like this, I've got no leverage to go in any direction.
I blink and look from side to side. I can feel my strength fading. Worse, I'm starting to see things. Like that dead zebra in the corner...wait, zebra? THE REF!
I furiously slap my palm against Emily's arm, shaking my head back and forth. For a fearful second, nothing happens, but then she lets go of me and pushes me off of her. I cling gratefully to the mat like a well-missed lover, body rising up and down as I take big gulping breaths of air, the crowd roaring at my apparent surrender.
After a few moments of this, the crowd noise dims a bit, and I turn my head a bit. There's a pregnant pause before Emily realises what's happened and slaps the mat. She shows off some of the lesser-known beauty of the Italian language before shaking and threatening the unconscious referee.
It's the perfect time to turn the match around...but I just can't. I'm still too sore from that beating with the kendo stick, and especially still too winded from that sleeper. Instead I lie there, watching Emily, waiting in case she turns back. I'll have to hit her on the counter.
Then something completely unexpected happens. One thing about being on the mat like this, you feel every little vibration. I see Sadie Davis rolling into the ring, a crutch in her hands. 'Kinell' I think. 'Who's she going for, then?'
It starts off well, as she goes for Emily, clattering her a good one in the back, then jamming the bottom into Emily's throat before beating the holy piss out of the Italian. I don't relax, of course. In Sadie's place, I'd take that crutch to both of us, leave everyone laying and make the statement that I should have been in the main event...but after what she did in our semi-final match, it's apparent I've not got a handle on this girl's motivations, as of yet.
When she finally breaks the crutch on Emily and stands, I tense up, waiting to try and roll myself out of the ring if she comes my way, but she never does, rolling back out of the ring and heading back up the ramp. Not a bit too soon, it seems, as the ref is starting to stir.
LvK: I am stunned as to what I've just seen.
RP: I know, right? Callista or Sadie? They're both 10s, but so diff-
LvK: IN THE MATCH!
RP: No need to shout.
'This was helpful,' I think, my gift for understatement as strong as ever. Forcing myself up to my feet, I give a kick to the bigger bits of crutch, getting them out of the ring before reaching down for Emily. That trickle of blood that started with the curbstomp has widened tremendously. She's working a 0.8 Muta, most of her face covered in crimson.
The ref is on his hands and knees now, shaking the cobwebs loose. Despite the slickness from sweat and blood, I get fingers in Emily's hair, and despite soreness in my chest and abdomen, I pull Emily up off of the mat, turning to grasp her arms as I face away, turning us around.
LvK: NOT LIKE THIS!
RP: JUST LIKE THIS!
I get my head in between her legs, lift her upward, getting her weight onto my back before dropping us both down, me onto my arse, her onto her head.
RP: END TIMES! CALLISTA JUST HIT END TIMES!
LvK: NO!
Tiredly, I roll Emily over onto her back, hooking her far leg and rolling my body up onto her shoulders. The ref crawls forward, lifting his hand and letting it drop. “ONE!” he says, weakly, but loudly enough to be heard over the shouting, booing crowd. He does it again. “TWO!” He lifts his hand a third time....
I felt a sudden shift under me, felt myself rolled to the side a bit, and that third slap of the mat didn't come.
LvK: SHE GOT HER SHOULDER UP! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!
RP: SHE'S CHEATING! SHE HAS TO BE!
A stunned silence followed by a burst of shouting and applause broke across the Mid-Atlantic Sportatorium. Even the ref seemed stunned, as he just lay there, his hand still up. No one in the building could believe that she'd kicked out, least of all me.
The difference was that I wasn't about to let it change things. With barely a split-second's pause, I was pushing back up to my feet, getting my vertical base back, and then pulling Emily back up off of the ring. I was NOT going to be one of those wrestlers who lost the plot because someone kicked out of their finisher.
I took hold of her arms again, turning her around to face away, and once again ducked my head down. Fine. She kicked out. Doesn't mean the move was somehow defective. I clenched my teeth as I lifted Emily's weight up onto my back. Just meant Emily's thick skull was used to her getting dropped on it!
I stood up straight once more, and once more I dropped back down onto my arse, this time holding onto Emily's arms all the way down, trying to make sure the Kudo Driver, (we can give it Countdown branding all we want, but I wasn't going to pretend I innovated the move,) put Emily down.
RP: COME ON BABY! SECOND TIME'S A CHARM!
LvK: That's not
RP: SHUT UP VAN KEEL!
I let out a breath, turned around, and again hooked Emily's leg, rolling her up and stacking my weight on the woman's shoulders. The sound of a hand slapping the mat could be heard. "ONE!" the ref counted, blessedly faster as he recovered from the blow he took earlier. Another slap. "TWO!!!!" It seemed like all sound vanished as the referee raised his hand once more...
*SLAP*
"THREE!!!!"
*DINGDINGDIIIINNNGGGGG!!!!*
LvK: DAMMIT!
RP: SHE'S DONE IT! CALLISTA QUINN HAS DONE IT! THE LEADER OF THE COUNTDOWN IS NOW THE LEADER OF US ALL!
LvK: ...what?
RP: YOUR REIGNING, DEFENDING FTW CHAMPION
LvK: Technically she hasn't defen-
RP: SHUT UP YOU BITTER BASTARD!
Elation warred with exhaustion inside of me. I had done it. And now that I had done it, I wanted to sleep for a week. That was not an option just at the moment, though. The match was over, but the job wasn't quite done yet.
Pushing aching muscles to give me just a little bit more, I stood up as the referee brought the gold belt into the ring. Over at the timekeeper's table, Charlie Guiteau got onto the microphone. "THE WINNER OF THIS MATCH, AND THE FIRST EVER FTW WORLD CHAMPION...CALLISTAAAAAA QUIIIIIIIINNNNNN!!!!" I snatched the belt away from the ref and held it high over my head, casually lifting my right foot up, placing the sole of my boot on Emily's neck and pressing downward, causing her to thrash a bit under me.
LvK: Enough already! You won the damn match!
RP: It'll make a great picture for the next set of Countdown merch!
The reaction was instantaneous and near-universal. Even those who might be inclined to favour me would have to admit that Emily put up one hell of a fight. Seeing her disrespected like this, especially given the unexpected bit of good fortune I received in the form of Sadie Davis, (that would be an interesting development, however it played out,) set what little of the crowd I hadn't pissed off against me, and the boos and angry shouts rained down upon me from every corner of the arena.
Just the way I'd planned.
RP: Whether you like her or you don't, she is the champion.
LvK: And whether you're happy with that fact or not, you've just seen one amazing match from two amazing athletes.
RP: Don't sell any of our competitors short, van Keel! It's been an amazing night for wrestling.
LvK: That it has, Richard. On that, we can most definitely agree.
RP: I told you Countdown was here to save it.
LvK: Oh for fu-
(https://s4ck.com/forums/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fi.imgur.com%2FVV8Y78z.png&hash=b9d4f101b457cd3635650db872a95e4b7df2fc1a)
Hay Callie, any reason why you stopped talking to me?