FTW Fury, Episode 3 (Pro Wrestling RP)

[Rowan Chance]

The video screen above the ramp entrance flickers and crackles. Warped and damaged video does its awkward dance.

The opening strings of Within Temptation's "Angels" aches through the speakers as the screen tries to focus on a coherent image. As Sharon den Adel's voice floats through the air, the images finally coalesce into an image... a faded photograph. Two women, standing in front of a fading sunset, their arms over each other's shoulders. Their foreheads touching. Both obviously drunk. Both smiling. Fingers in each other's hair.

Punky and Rowan. 


Sparkling angel
I believe
You are my saviour
In my time of need

Blinded by faith
I couldn't hear
All the whispers
The warning's so clear


The screen flickers again. This time, it focuses on two women in the ring. The same women. Punky lifts Rowan up—her fingers in Rowan's hair. Rowan can barely stand, her eyes wet and her mouth open with surprise and dread.


I see the angels
I'll lead them to your door
There is no escape now
Now mercy no more


Back to the photograph. The edge of it begins to smolder, fire tasting the edges and finding them sweet. The music is building. Guitars now and drums.

On the screen, quick flashes between the photograph and Rowan and Punky in the ring.

Their faces close together.
Their foreheads touching.


No remorse 'cause I still remember...


The photo bursts into flames and a hand reaches down, grasping the flames between her fingers, crushing it and lifting it up to a masked face, staring out from the screen. A stare so dark, the camera lens shatters.


The smile when you tore me apart


The stage erupts in light. A light so blinding, it's almost impossible to tell a woman stands there, wrapped in a cloak of white feathers.


You took my heart
Deceived me right from the start


She spreads her arms out and the cloak turns into wings.


You showed me dreams
I wished they'd turn to real


She tosses the cloak behind her and it's Aika.
Wearing a skin tight black cat suit. Boots up to her knees. Her wet, almost oily hair falling down over a face covered in a black mask.


You broke the promise
And made me realise
It was all just a lie


She stops there. No movement. Almost as if she isn't even breathing.

The music suddenly stops.

And she stands perfectly still.




LvK: Ladies and gentlemen, these two women have a long and dark history.

RP: You forgot to include "@#$%ing twisted" in there, van Keel. Those two are about as sick as a colostomy bag.

LvK: That's disgusting!

RP: Hey, you want @#$%ed up? Call 1-800-ROWAN.

LVK: Is everything you're going to say have at least one word that needs to be bleeped out?

RP: What the @#$% are you talking about?

LvK: You look scared, Rip.

RP: You look like—


On the stage, Aika screams. A banshee wail. The lost soul of a betrayed woman. And it isn't just a single sound. Her scream invades the speakers, echoing all over the US Cellular Center.

Up above the ring, there's a sudden explosion of sparks.

Aika's scream.

Another explosion.

The lights suddenly drop. All at once.


RP: VAN KEEL! WHERE ARE THE LIGHTS!?!?

LvK: Keep yourself together!

RP: I HATE THAT SCARY @#$%ING BITCH!

LvK: Can anyone hear us? Are we still on?


The lights come back on... and Aika is standing on the announce table. Staring down at Rip Perle.


RP: OH#$%^! OH@#$%! OH@#$%!


Perle clutches at his chest and falls out of his chair.

Van Keel stands up and out of his chair, slowly stepping between her and his fallen broadcast colleague.


LvK: Now listen... he didn't... don't do anything foolish, Ro—Aika.


Looking down at van Keel, Aika's head tilts, as if she's confused.


LvK: He's not a competitor anymore. He's just a foolish old man who..." van Keel pauses. "Aika. He's nothing to you. Remember. Remember Punky."


Aika's head snaps to the side with the speed of a cobra, switching that glare from the announcer to someone else.

Under her oily hair, Aika smiles. And says the name.


"Maaaay-gaaaan...."

[BustyTiffany35]

[Earlier]

"...seriously?"


On a monitor backstage, footage of Ms. Davis' entrance plays, and I could not look more impressed as I stand by and sip on a bottle of cold water. Flash cuts of a video clearly constructed by the newest member of Countdown (using iMovie, no less) plays on screen, displaying a heartwarming sequence of friendship at its most purest to the charming beat of Queen's "You're My Best Friend". It's that moment in the video when Callista and Sadie are staring up at the evening sky one starry night that I find myself wondering how exactly did she ever get the clearance to air this.

She's certainly walking about with an air of confidence that lesser mortals couldn't dream of attaining. The look on her face, the extra spring in her strut, the way she shakes off insults and taunts from the crowd while winking and blowing kisses to whomever, the gal's certainly full of invincibility. I guess that boost in arrogance comes easily when ya join up with the ranks of Countdown..


"..SADIE DAAAAAAAAAVIS!!"


"..well now.."

I take another sip of my water and continue watching as darkness falls across the arena, and a sea of cellphone screens light up instantly, creating a real, hauntingly beautiful scene. The FTW PanoramaVision (I think that's what they're calling it) blasts to life with a video shot from a GoPro camera, and I perk up a bit as I notice this tall brick building with its fine gable windows materializing into view. From the sound of the crowd, it seems this rundown mental hospital seems to be a recognizable local landmark. Then, a silver horned skull turned upside-down appears. My eyes widen somewhat as a hollow voice booms from the confines of the PunkySkull horned skull mask, announcing the appearance of a purple-haired vixen who's every bit as.. pretty, as she is violent..

The monitor displays a purple and black tag that prominently displays a single name: PUNKY. I lick my lips anxiously and continue watching the gal's entrance.

A moment later, Rob Zombie's voice can be heard across the darken Cellular Center, and the purple-haired gal from the City of Roses emerges at the top of the stage in a shower of red, purple and green strobe lights. She stomps and bobs her way down the aisle to the hard beat of Sick Bubblegum and even I have to admit I'm getting a lil anxious. I've seen the video tapes of her previous matches, heard the stories about her. Untamed, chaotic. Sadie's a handful, unpredictable, dangerous. But Punky? Absolutely lethal. I lick my lips as I stare intently at this purple-haired beauty as she shadowboxes in her corner of the ring.


"..THAN ENOUGH TO KICK YOUR ASS AND STANDING TALLER THAN YOUR JUKEBOX HEROES -

THIS!

IS!

PUNKY!"


I take another sip of my water and begin to prep myself for the match, moving past the monitor to wait for my cue to head out there. But then--


"...hmm?"


The lights go out in the arena once more, followed by a red spot that flashes along the entranceway. I stare closely at the darken stage until a man in a red mask and a red velvet jacket appears and almost instantly I feel goosebumps forming along my arms. There is something incredibly unnerving about the arrival of this blond, masked man walking out to no music and a red spotlight. I narrow my eyes as I recognize him almost immediately, the mysterious and damn creepy associate of Aika. The unsettling scene only amplifies once Lord Tantalus enters the ring, moving intently to Punky. His voice is striking, overwhelming. It fills the ears of all who listens. And then, just like that, he drops his mic. Darkness falls again.


"....."


Sparkling angel
I believe
You are my saviour
In my time of need..


I stare at the monitor as a video plays. A video that shows two women against the rays of a fading sun, smiling, enjoying each others company, fingers sinking into each others' hair...it flickers into another scene within the ring, one with glossed eyes and a gaping mouth, a face torn between shock and dread, while the other grips her by her hair...fire emerges and burns the scene while the music builds with guitars and drums, before the burning photograph is crushed into a tight fist, brought up to a masked face that glares into the lens. Then, light, light that's so blinding even I have to squint a lil' to continue to watch the monitor. I can see a woman standing amid all that blinding light, draped in a cloak of white feathers. As she tosses that cloak off her, I take a deep breath and gulp down my water. There's my partner for the match tonight.

No remorse 'cause I still remember...


Aika.


The smile when you tore me apart


So much pain, so much hatred, all that darkness at her disposable to wield. She begins screaming, screaming, like a damn banshee she wails. I shiver intensely as that deafening sound reverberates across the Cellular Center. This gal sure makes my skin crawl. Glad she's on my side for this match.. Then, suddenly, she appears on the announce table. The creepiness just doesn't stop with this one. She scares the crap outta LvK and RP, just flat out mortifies 'em. I find myself just honing in on her, focusing on her intently, it's as if she's the only thing on screen right now as the camera closes up on her tilted head.

Abruptly, she snaps her head to the side, like a fuckin' cobra.

In shock I spit my water out, misting the monitor as the image of my sinisterly smiling partner is imposed across the screen.

"Maaaaayyyy-gaaaaan..."


Well, that's unsettlin'..


A stage hand suddenly moves in to my side, but I pay lil' attention to him. He has to tap me on my shoulder and him doing so causes me to twitch, and I cut him a breathless glance. He holds up two fingers, then points off to the tunnel that leads out to the arena.


"Er, Tiffany? You're up next!"


I sigh warily, and wave my hand and nod. Glancing back at the monitor, I take a deep breath and toss the stage hand my empty bottle, clearing my throat as i move forward.


"..Gawd damn..what a bunch of characters.. I really have to follow all that?"

[Now.]

The camera continues to focus on Aika's malicious grin, a smile that promises worlds of hatred and violence as she cut a sideways glare toward the ring. Then, darkness blankets the arena once more, throwing the crowds into another roaring cheer.


A moment later, the PA unleashes a volley of pumping, familiar guitar riffs. Soon, the intro to Thunderstruck starts to blare, sending the fans into a frenzy as the legendary AC/DC track signals the entrance of the Platinum Queen.


THUNDER!


Cutting away from ringside, a camera from atop the US Cellular Center presents a wide angled view of the darken arena, with the FTW PanoramaVision drawing in all the attention as it lights up brightly. At the moment, the enormous video screen acts as the only source of light within the arena, glowing white as an emblem of a platinum-hued regal crown set between a pair of stylized silver angel wings materializes right in the middle of the PanoramaVision. The scene dissolves into a flash of white that overwhelms the platinum insignia.



THUNDER!


Cut to another camera, this one positioned right in front of the entrance tunnel which is bathed in white light. Soon, a tall, shapely figure emerges in the center of the tunnel as mist begins to rise from the stage. The dark shapely silhouette saunters forward through the white light, right hand resting comfortably on her right hip, her left hand swaying nonchalantly with each confident step. The buxom figure struts to a halt at the front of the entrance way, standing amid rising mist and spotlights that shine down onto her. The fans roar loudly in excitement.


THUNDER!


Spotlights beam down over the Platinum Queen as Tiffany steps into the arena. The fans take note of the gold spandex ring attire that hugs her toned, buxom figure, along with the usual gear that accompanies her outfit of black boots, knee pads, an elbow pad on her right arm, tape wrapped around both wrists, fishnet stockings and a simple black choker. Her platinum mane, as always, flows freely around her grinning face and bare shoulders. Glancing from side to side, basking in the chorus of cheers from the crowds that meld with the pulsing AC/DC track, Tiffany nods to her fans, tilts her head back and thrusts her arms out.


THUNDER!


Like missiles soaring off into the sky, lines of pyro set off from the stage on either side of Tiffany as she poses for the cheering masses. Another set of loud pyrotechnic blasts erupt from sides of the PanoramaVision, but by this time Tiff is already moving forward, sauntering calmly down the aisle while Thunderstruck continues to blare over the PA. Slapping hands with anxious fans leaning over the guardrails, Tiffany makes her way toward the ring and hops effortlessly up onto the apron. Moving to the middle of the apron, Tiff turns around swiftly and leans back onto the ring ropes. Extending her arms outward, she delivers her signature pose to the audiences with a bright smile spread across her glossy lips.


"And the final participant! She stands 5'8'' tall and weighed in at 136 pounds. She is THE PLATINUM QUEEN -- TIFFANY!!"


The ring announcers' voice echoes across the arena as the fans holler and cheer. Winking at the audience, Tiffany turns again and slowly bends over the middle rope to enter the ring in a tantalizingly smooth manner. As the AC/DC track fades in the background, the lights in the arena return to normal and Tiffany stands back in her corner of the ring. Leaning back with her arms propped atop the third rope, Tiff's deep green eyes cross the ring to glare at Sadie and Punky. The grin on her face fades, dissolving into a look of determination. It's somewhat surprising how quickly she can go from all fun and smiles to pure 'Ass-Whippin' mode, but that look on her face proves she's definitely in that state of mind.


Then, slowly, Tiff turns her eyes away from her younger opponents, to look over at her own partner. In that brief moment, Tiff visibly pales, and a look of apprehension crosses the Platinum Queen's face..


LvK: --oh, oh thank GOD! She's focusing on Punky again. Well, fans, we apologize for that, uhm, disturbance, I guess you could call it that..but Tiffany, the Platinum Queen has arrived and she's in the ring! She's looking fantastic, and ready for a fight! Though, you have to admit, even she looks a little hesitant about having to team with Aika. Wouldn't you say so, Rip? Rip? Rip! Will you get UP already?! Fans, we're in for one helluva match coming up! The team of Sadie Davis and Punky square off against the unlikely duo of Tiffany and Aika! It is sure to be one wild fight! And it is coming up, NEXT!

[ThePurpleVixen]

The temptation to just knock that smug little fuck's teeth down his god-damn throat is so intense that it makes my knees shake, just a little.

But I keep my game face on, my wolf face. Big watchful eyes, just a hint of sharp teeth in a grin. Tantalus goes through his little god-damn song and dance and oh fuck how I just want to clutch his throat in both hands and cross my thumbs over his larynx and squeeze until I hear a soft wet crunch like an apple under a car tire.

But then I wouldn't get my hands on Aika.

He gives me his little poem and then the mask wearing Rowan makes a slideshow out of my fucking life as her entrance and everything goes a sort of hazy red.  The referee sets a hand on my shoulder and draws back with a hiss like he touched a hot stove when he feels the tension thrumming in me, and I turn on him like a fucking rattlesnake.

I hear the crowd reacting to whatever's happening on the stage when the mask makes its entrance, and I advance on the referee, my eyes burning, and for a moment I just wanna take his big stupid wobbly head and twist it around with a series of spring ice cracks so he's looking at his own zebra ass.

But then I wouldn't get my hands on Aika.

He meets my dark eyes for a moment, and when I bring my fists up, a life of locker room payoffs and carefully ignoring the clatter of steel chairs against skulls behind his back flashes before his eyes. "Check 'em," I growl, and open my taped fists, offering my hands. There's a moment of hesitation, in case I'm just luring him in close so I can grab him by the lower incisors and unhinge his god-damn jaw like I did that one time in Tallahassee, but I don't.

I let him check me out, punkytails to Docs, and I don't even threaten grievous bodily harm. I mean, don't get me wrong. It'd be fun. It's ALWAYS fun to beat up a zebra, self righteous selectively deaf bastards that they are.

But then I wouldn't get my hands on Aika.

The ref seems a little surprised - and maybe even a hint disappointed - not to find any brass knuckles, rolls of quarters, handfuls of poison mist caplets, or golden spikes on me. I go and stand in the corner, still facing away from the aisle, looking out at the darkness of the far side of the US Cellular Center, lit with the flares and strobes of Aika's entrance. I don't need to see it. I hear the fucking song and I saw the photo she decided to put up front. I know what the fuck she wants. And she's gonna fucking get it. And so am I. I stretch myself out on the top rope, ignoring Sadie behind me, ignoring Reddy at ringside - poor cockteased sap that he is. Ignoring everything but the sound of the music Aika picked for me.

When the lights come up, the noise of the crowd - and of Rick Perle at ringside at the announce table DOES manage to turn my head, my dark eyes narrowing. Aika's standing on the table, menacing Rick who's toppled over backwards like the silly old bastard he is. Perle might have made himself into a running joke - but he's one of the only true heel commentators working today, and he's the one who came to Portland convince me to join FTW. A coalition and a national television deal wasn't my thing - I was happy with my rep as a badass indy darling, and I was happy with the bar I owned over near Voodoo Donuts. Rick Perle came out, stupid-ass pink satin jacket and all, and set me straight on the facts of life: I'd make more money, travel to bigger arenas, get more respect, and have more faces to punch than I ever had in my career. And he was right. FTW was a fucking godsend. And the doofy old man who'd shown me the Chicken Peck eye gouge and had taught me how to use a simple fast food paper salt packet to ruin someone's career and hopes of 20/20 vision was being menaced by the mask that was wearing Rowan. My fists tighten on the rope and I'm a half-second away from just coming over the top at her right then like a bullet with her fucking name on it - but the match isn't underway yet. We might wipe out non-combatants, and get pulled apart. Diving over the top and falling onto her like Lucifer from the clear blue heavens would be sweet.

But then I wouldn't get my hands on Aika.

Not for long enough, anyway. Instead, she turns to look at me with those mad eyes - and I just grin and step ostentatiously out onto the apron in my corner, neatly cleaning my boots with fastidious little scrapes of my waffled Doc Marten Airwalk™ soles. I lean on the top rope, my eyes never leaving Aika's mad gaze as she singsongs my name like she's fucking addicted to it, and I wind my left fist in the tag rope, holding it in a regulation grip.

Tiffany comes out, all flash and glamour, flare and pride. She's got a lot to deal with - I think she might be the most veteran in the company except for Judy Greene and that cast-iron bitch Blount, and she's seen a lot around the world, but the ring she's heading towards is a swirl of chaos like nothing outside of HUSTLE or CZW. I actually like Tiff all right - she's fearless, which I respect, and strong as a god-damn horse. Cute in a hairsprayed 1980s pin-up kinda way, too. But Tiffany doesn't hold my interest now. Not even for a second. I just stay on the apron, my fist quiveringly tight around the tag rope, holding it taut as garrote, watching Aika as she takes instruction from Tantalus and stands stock-still. All this fucking rage roils inside me. I'm used to being angry all the fucking time, but what I've got seething now is some kind of flaming demonic fury - maybe if I just grabbed Sadie by her little blonde head head and thrust my thumbs into her eyes and then superkicked Tiffany in the throat as she stepped into the ring. That might make me feel better, letting that djinn free.

But then I wouldn't get my hands on Aika.

Sadie talks to me. I don't really hear it. She sounds a little like a Pomeranian, pompous and yappy and thinking she's bigger than she is.

I stand on the apron, watching.

The referee gives final instructions, and looks like he wishes he was somewhere else, somewhere with strong booze.

I stand on the apron, watching.

Tiffany steps to the outside as Aika just is IN the ring suddenly, and Sadie tries to get me to face the monster under her bed for her. I just smile my sweetest smile and gesture to the ring. All of this can be yours, my girl.  She turns, reluctantly, to square off with Aika, momentarily impressing the fuck out of me.

I stand on the apron, watching.

The bell rings.

The match is officially underway.

The bell rings, and I know for whom it fucking tolls.

AND NOW I GET MY FUCKING HANDS ON AIKA.

I vault the top rope, leaping over it in one fluid move, and bolt right past Sadie without even really seeing her, and I barrel into Aika like a god-damn freight train, like a bat outta hell, like a really fucking fast simile.  My right arm hooks out, catching across her collarbone and snatching a handful of that catsuit at her shoulder as I rush forward, my boots driving into the canvas and stockinged legs churning, until I slam her back into the steel cables of the ropes, and with a last thrust from both feet I carry her forward, up and over, so we hang in the air in beautiful reversed serenity for a moment before gravity blinks and realizes what we're doing, and snatches us both down to earth.

I tumble all the way forward, hips slamming the apron and bouncing me forward to a staggeringly graceful landing on my Docs. It took a lot of falling on my god-damn head to learn how to do a Cactus Clothesline properly, but the way Aika hits her head and shoulders on the apron and then tumbles like a ragdoll to the thin black mats over the concrete. She looks beautifully crumpled for a moment, like a hooded angel with a broken neck, but I know she's going to get up because that mask has made her into a fucking horror movie.

Good. I don't fucking close my eyes for the scary parts.

She pops up, a fucking jack-in-the-box, but before she can so much as snarl my name I'm on her. I drive into her, slamming my shoulder into that slender belly and lifting her up as I drive her forward up the ramp. My right arm slides out to hook across her lovely breasts snatching a grip under her left arm, my left hand snaking out to grab a handful of that clinging catsuit at the hip - and then I twist around, driving my heels into the ramp to brake us and using my own momentum to bullwhip the masked bitch around, dropping down to my knees to drive her shoulders and back into the steel of the walkway with a SAMBO SUPLEX.

"*BEEP*ing FINALLY," I snarl, getting a half-mount on her on the ramp and pistoning my right fist into the center of that fucking mask, feeling the sublime joy of knuckles bruising on skull -

- and she comes right back at me, rolling me over against the rough steel grating as we lock together in earnest, two stormfronts piling into each other to make a towering thunderhead, spitting savage forked lightning that destroys everything on the ground.

I grin in manic delight as Aika's fist crashes into the side of my face. Sadie better send me a fucking fruit basket for the win I just handed her.

[Callista]

Backstage, in the Countdown locker room, I'm working, of course, putting the finishing touches on the upcoming video commemorating my capture of the FTW championship. FTW's staff hadn't done bad, but naturally I could do better. I was keeping the song, which simplified the royalty situation immensely, and it was good, even if I detected a certain snarky irony in the lyrics. That was fine. If FTW's smarter fans (both of them) twigged to it being a dig at me, that still worked. But the video footage told a story of overcoming obstacles and final triumph. The pat triteness alone would irk me, but it certainly didn't suit my plans, and that I would not allow.

A window popped up in the corner of my screen as the introductions to the tag team match began. Sadie's entrance was first. I alt-tabbed back to Final Cut Pro...and then did a literal double-take before alt-tabbing back to the Fury stream. Did I just see...I looked to the tv monitor that was showing Fury and sent the video back 30 seconds, then another 30. Yes, that was a cartoon me drinking out of the same glass as...

My lips curl upward at the corners and I chuckle. Not so much at the video or my portrayal in it as the fact that it exists in the first place. The pay-per-view ended barely eleventy-plot hours ago. The animation wasn't the best, but I still knew how long it took to produce a video like that. Someone had planned ahead.

I turned the tv volume down went back to my work, letting the slight sound of the announcers provide white noise as I kept editing. A rising noise caught my ear again, and I saw Megan and Rowan tumbling onto the floor, brawling like madwomen... "Most unnecessary simile ever," I said to myself, switching the monitor off and putting the last bit of work into the video. "Still, that's sorted, then."

[Rowan Chance]

A dark room, lit only by candles. It's Tantalus' office in the Club Taboo. I can barely stand after the beating Countdown put on me, my spine begging me to go back to the hospital. I tell it to shut the fuck up.

I hold the mask in my hands, feeling the ancient leather. I can smell the old blood and sweat.

"I will warn you this time as I've always warned you," Tantalus says, standing behind me, his hand on my shoulder. "It will not be you," he says. "It will turn you into something else."

I do not turn. I simply say, "I know."

"Aika is a spirit of pure vengeance." The simple truth in his voice and the darkness in his eyes make me shudder. "That will be the only emotion you feel. No compassion. No mercy."

"No love?" I ask, the words trembling on my lips.

His hand squeezes my shoulder. We both know the answer to that question.

My hands shake. I try to steady them. I can't tell if my fingers are quaking from the fear... or a dark anticipation.

"Are you certain?" he asks me.

I nod. "They are many," I whisper. "And I am alone."

He says to me, "You are never alone." But I did not listen.

My hands raise the mask up to my face...

* * *

Aika rolls up on top of Punky, her legs straddling Punky's hips. Those powerful legs squeeze tight, ankles hooking under her thighs.

Her left hand holds Punky down by the throat—squeezing tight—while her right fist raises up and slams down hard just under Punky's right eye, aiming for the orbital bone. The shot lands hard, knocking Punky's head back against the metal of the ramp. Then again. Like a piston in a Machine of Pain. The fist rises up, then slams back down, hitting the same spot over and over again. Punky's face slowly turns a color that clashes with her hair.

Aika's eyes shine pure black. Her lips curled back, her teeth clenched.

"You betrayed her!" she screams down at Punky, delivering every punch with dangerous precision. "You betrayed her!"

Punky tries to grab at Aika, grabbing her hair, even pulling out strands of it with her taped hands, but Aika's deliberate strikes do not stop. Same two inches every time: the bone around Punky's right eye.

Punky's arms sway around Aika like the mast of a ship caught in a storm. Her grip on the masked woman fails as her hands fall away. But Aika does not stop. Her right fist rises up and falls. Rises up and falls. Rises up and falls. Again and again and again.

But a scream from the darkest parts of Punky's soul fills the room. Her hands reach up and grab Aika's skin-tight suit and pull, tossing Aika over. The two of them tumble again, this time Punky throwing the fists down on Aika. Not straight blows, but hooked punches, smashing Aika's jaw left and right, sending blood and spit into both their faces. Punky's right eye is swollen and already starting to bruise. She shouts words so blurred with emotion, Punky sounds like she's standing at the altar in a Southern Baptist Church, crying out in tongues.

Under Punky, Aika's hips shift. Her legs twist up like a spider's legs: one under Punky's jaw and the other reaching to hook the ankle. The crowd knows exactly what that is and their already significant roar intensifies. Fans start chanting, "WIDOW'S KISS! WIDOW'S KISS!"

But Punky blocks the move, shifting her arms almost instinctively. Almost as if she knew what Aika was going for the moment Aika tried it. She moves her arms through Aika's legs, keeping the masked woman's shin from getting under her chin.

And that is when Aika smiles.

Under Punky, Aika shifts her weight, tossing the Purple Vixen down, throwing her over to her back, her legs wrapping around Punky's left arm.

Punky on her belly.

Aika sitting on Punky's back, her legs straddling Punky's arm.

And Aika's hands on Punky's wrist, holding out the extended limb. Holding it at the exact wrong angle. Aika's gloved hands twist around Punky's taped wrist...



... Emily Layne has been here. She's heard the sound of her shoulder snapping...

... Helpless in her hospital bed, Gemma watches, her arm still in a cast...

... Without even knowing it, the Enforcer standing at ringside instinctively reaches for his shoulder, touching a pain that has never healed...

... Backstage, Tantalus watches the monitor. He takes a deep breath... and turns his gaze away...



Aika screams: "ALL MY PAIN FOR YOU!"

Then, her head snaps, throwing her shoulders back, her hips holding Punky's body in place, her grip pulling Punky's arm back along with her...

[Lord Tantalus]

LvK: FOR THE LOVE OF GOD! SOMEONE STOP AIKA!
RP: Get that Tantalus @55hole. He seems to...
LVK: Wait! Punky's...

I hear the announcers' voices and I force myself to look up at the monitor. I see Aika and I see purple punkytails, arms and legs flailing under her.

Yes, Punky is fighting back.

I watch her twist and turn, slipping out from under Aika's grip. And I watch her throw a stunning left jab straight between Aika's eyes.

Aika falls back, landing flat on the ramp. But then, she twists her hips and is back on her feet with that malicious marionette dance she does.

But Punky doesn't stop. She lands another powerful fist to Aika's jaw, backing the masked woman up toward the entrance, toward the curtain.

And then another one. And another.

Aika's body twists with every blow like her bones are made of rubber. And each time Punky scores a shot at Aika's jaw, the masked woman takes another step back. Further up the ramp. Until they finally reach the top.  

Aika's been fought back. I've never seen that before. Never seen Aika take a step back. Let alone fought back.

And I see the look in Punky's eyes.

No fear.

I want to rush out, but it's too late to stop them.


It was too late to stop them the very moment they met.

[PrimalNatRobin]

OMFG!!! This is soooo cool! *Finds an empty seat in the audience with a large tub of popcorn and Coke.*

[Wrestlerjunkee]

I take a seat next to the new comer, guarding my own box of plain pop corn and a Vitamin water...looking at this action, keeping my eye on Sadie, knowing she has it out for the Goddess Tiffany...

[Callista]

(Welcome all!)

[Wrestlerjunkee]

I take a seat next to the new comer, guarding my own box of plain pop corn and a Vitamin water...looking at this action, keeping my eye on Sadie, knowing she has it out for the Goddess Tiffany...

Sitting in the stands with my hoodie over my head, I offer Junkee some red hots in exchange for some popcorn and try to decide which is worse: Rowan's deliberate and precise jabs or Punky's overpowering and decimating right hooks.

Eh, it's no good being on the business end of either of them.

I gladly make the exchange with Virginia, wonder why is she wearing a hoodie indoors..."Wow, quite the action!"

[BustyTiffany35]

That dreadful apprehension swelling up in my stomach as I glance over at Aika is replaced by irritation as Sadie's voice pipes up and calls to me from across the ring. I slowly guide my eyes to her, my expression turning to stone as I stare at the lil' gal.

Ohh, that lil' brat..

I'm glaring a gaping hole thru Sadie as she taunts me, her voice filled to the brim with candy-coated arrogance. She goes on about some silly endorsement deal with Rice Krispies, how she'll make my knee 'snap crackle and pop', and while my blood starts to boil over that, a distinct throbbing begins to beat in the leg that she ravaged in our last encounter. Memories of that match flash across my mind, and suddenly my knee feels sore, as if it's about to lock-up. I curse myself quietly beneath my breath, hating that my knee isn't 100% recovered, but at the same time the aching serves as a clear reminder of just how dangerous Ms. Sadie Davis truly is. If I let my anger overwhelm me and just go after the brat, I'll leave myself open, and she'll definitely take advantage of me again. I shut my eyes and take a deep breath, calming myself and relinquishing my rising anger. I'll get my hands on her in due time. Tying her up and spanking her silly after our match didn't seem to have much of an affect on her 'behaviour'. I slowly open my glaring green eyes, focusing em' tightly on Sadie.

Guess I'll just have to spank her harder this time 'round--hey, is it me, or did it just get really cold in here all of a sudden?

I gasp, as before I can even ponder the drop in temperature, I'm startled by my 'partner' Aika now having materialized right beside me in the ring! I blink and arch a brow, gazing at her quizzically. How'd she do that..? When did she even get into the ring?? I stare at her for a good couple of seconds, and as I stare at this gal I suddenly realize I'm holding my breath the longer I look at her. She's not moving, just staring, emotionless eyes glaring through that dark, oily hair. After a few agonizingly long moments, I perk up, and offer to start. But my voice falls onto defeated silence as she doesn't even acknowledge my presence. I let my mouth gape open, unsure of what to say or do, and finally realize that she might want to start us off. Not gonna argue with her on that, I slowly slip outta the ring and take my place on the apron behind her. I'm still looking at her with a funny look on my face when my eyes drift off to our opponents. I cut Sadie another nasty look as she's still yappin' away to Punky. I give 'Maaaaaay-gaaaaaan' a closer look, studying her intently. She looks..impatient. Angry. Damn near fearless as she stares back into the eyes of this tortured soul. She wants to get her hands on Aika, she wants to hurt her. Above all else, she looks ready. I lick my lips as I stare at the Purple Vixen, my own hand wrapping tightly about the tag rope beside me. I can see it in her face, in the way she's clutching her own tag rope, the lil' smile on her lips-- she's ready for war, ready and willing to dive into Hell, headfirst, to cause Aika as much pain as she's capable of dealing. That willingness, that fearlessness. To have that in ya, even when you're facing a dangerous, unpredictable force like Aika..it's kinda admirable. And batshit crazy. I take a breath and glance at Aika, then back to Megan and Sadie. This is gonna be one hell of a ride..

Then, she gives Sadie the OK to start the match. Against Aika.

My eyes widen as I look dumbfounded at Countdown's newest member, turning openly to Rowan with that same confident gleam in her pretty eyes. Sadie's pretty fearless herself. That's actually kinda admirable..then again, I almost feel sorry for the kid that's she's gonna start the match for her team. Almost. My knee's still throbbing, afterall. I take a deep breath again, staring disapprovingly at Sadie as she reluctantly moves forward, taunting Aika, and I sigh heavily. This is gonna be one hell of a massacre..

The bell rings loudly. Punky suddenly vaults over the top rope in one beautifully graceful leap, charges past Sadie, bounding right for Aika, and blasts into her like a runaway freight train! They tumble chaotically outta the ring, through the steel cables, toppling onto the arena floor! I let out a startled gasp as Punky managed to land on her Doc Martins in a Cactus Jack-kinda way, while Aika just crumbles onto the black mats in a ragged heap. Instinctively, I move to help her up, not caring for the creepiness or demonic theatrics. The gal took a real bad, nasty spill, I gotta see if she's okay--

Aika snaps back up, unflinchingly, unbothered by that hooking closeline and that horrid fall. My eyes just widen in disbelief as I see her rising to her feet, ready to engage Punky. No one should be up that quickly after takin' a spill like that.. Punky doesn't give her a second to breathe, however. She wanted to get her hands on Aika, and she's taking that opportunity now. She's just a whirlwind of purple violence, whipping Aika about wildly into steel barricades. Tossing her onto the unforgiving steel ramp with a Sambo Suplex. Mounting her now over that rough steel grating, ready to pummel her. I jolt to life at this moment, catching myself staring at the pair as if it were a bad car accident. It's like a twisted mess of flesh, a horribly violent site--and ya just can't take your eyes away from it. Ya just stand there, and stare, mind blank as ya take in the charged fury of it all. I'm starting to wonder if I should go over and help Aika again, but she answers that with an emphatic fist slamming abruptly into the side of Megan's head. No, she doesn't need my help. She's got Megan covered..

Mounted, actually. Pounding on her. Fist to face, smashing her knuckles into Punky's head, repeated shots landing into her orbital bone! I'm cringing with every shot, a hand covering my mouth as I stare in horror as Punky is getting demolished by Aika. The shrieking of Aika rings loudly throughout the arena, screams of "YOU BETRAYED HER!!" ringing out from their spot on the ramp. So much pain and anguish and rage swelters in that screaming voice while she buries her fist repeatedly into Megan's face. Then, just like that, Punky turns the tides, and is atop Aika, pounding as viciously and angrily into the woman's mask. I'm flinching just watching the kind of shots that the Purple Vixen drives home, those are like sledgehammers dropping into concrete. All that rage, all that anger..

"ALL MY PAIN FOR YOU!"

I blurt out a curse, gasping loudly as after another furious tumble, Aika regains control, and grabs hold of Punky's wrist. My skin visibly pales, my mouth gapes wide and my eyes go as wide as saucers. She's gonna break her fuckin' arm!! That instinctive urge to help Aika a few moments ago when she spilled outta the ring returns in full force as I suddenly feel the need to help.. Megan. I know, that sounds, ridiculous. Aika, she's my partner, and the two have history written in blood, and they oughta settle it on their own, and i shouldn't get involved in that, but still.. no I just, that just ain't right! I can't just stand by and let her snap her arm! However, just as I'm about to hop off the apron and race up there to, well, I don't even know what I'm gonna do once I'm up there, Punky..fights back. She fights back, like a trapped wolf, she twists and turns and snarls viciously until she's OUT of Aika's cold, dead grip. And she continues fighting once she's freed, punching Aika so damn hard it topples her backward! And she continues, in that horrifying moment, to pound away furiously. Fists smashing into mask. Backing her up the ramp with every shattering blow. Determined to hurt her, to tear her apart. I'm still in utter shock that Punky managed to escape. Standing there on the apron, back to the ring, watching breathlessly, I don't know what to think.

The ref starts a Ten Count.

I snap my eyes to him and furrow my brow. Wait--

UGHHH!!!

A pair of boots.

They suddenly hit the back of my bad knee with enough crushing force my legs are swept up into the air and I go sideways! I come crashing down HARD onto my side on the apron, bouncing a lil' as I roughly land, moaning as I lay there in a heap clutching my bad knee. Teeth grinding and eyes shut as I try to suppress the pain, my knee just FLARES up and the pain reverberates throughout my body. The fans are now torn between excitedly watching the brawl between Punky and Aika on the ramp and booing SADIE as loudly as they can, as she gets up from dropkicking my knee from behind! She leans over my body, head poking out between the ropes, smirking wickedly down at me as I lay on the apron, blowing me a taunting kiss while I reel from her cheap shot..

Ohh, that lil' gawd damn brat..

[MileenaJade89]

Holy crap this is amazing!

[ThePurpleVixen]

Bitch punched my eye shut, but I only need one to see her.

Bitch tried to break my arm, but I gnawed my way out of her trap like a fucking fox.

Bitch thinks she’s immortal …

… but I got arms long enough to box with God.

I’m driving Aika back up onto the stage with a flurry of fucking crosses, each one slamming into her like a god-damn firebomb hitting a Dresden doll factory. My eye has that hot pulsing sweet pain you get from a really quality bruise - it’s puffed and black, shiny like a nickel and greasy with sweat.

I almost drive her back to the curtains, but as I drive a straight overhand left into the bridge of her nose and see the black mask crumple around the blow, I get a glimpse back into the shadows at the gorilla position while Aika sways on her boots, and I see a bunch of FTW security goons back there under the watchful beady eyes of Flower Power Phil, half of the infamous hippie goon squad Peace and Love, Incorporated that used to run wild all over the Minnesota circuit.  A grin plays across my face and then finds somewhere safer to play.

I’m not ready for security to end the fun JUST fucking yet.

Instead of punching Aika back through the curtain, I seize her by the catsuit and yank her close, twisting her around so her back is to the audience as she snarls at me, her face twisted in a silent scream of endless fury.

“HERE’S SOME *BEEP*ING PAIN IF YOU WANT IT SO *BEEP*ING BAD! I snarl at her, and lash off my Docs, thrusting my whole body weight up and into her to crash a headbutt between her twisted jigsaw eyes, sending her reeling back towards the edge of the stage that over looks the production area, about six feet below.

I learned how to punch from Roddy Piper and how to fuck with someone’s head from Raven, but I learned how to throw a proper headbutt the first time I toured the camps in Britain.  Those motherfuckers drink their beer wrong, drive on the wrong side, and eat the wrong parts of every animal - but they know how to crack someone’s god-damn skull open.

LvK: Well, folks, Sadie Davis and Punky are technically our winners - if that wasn’t clear from Sadie’s victory celebration and the way she’s jawing with the fans at ringside -

RP: - is that Jenny Dare or just some homeless chick in a hoodie?

LvK: But even as Tiffany pulls herself back up after that vicious and needless cheap shot from Sadie, Punky and Aika are still - still just tearing each other apart up on the stage. This is … this is lunacy.  Someone’s got to stop this.

RP: Yeah, someone's gotta - actually, no.  No. Y’know what?

LvK: … Rick?  Are you-

Rick Perle stands up to get a better view as Punky hammers her skull between Aika’s eyes and sends the demoness staggering. “Precious” Perle, pink satin jacket and all, turns to look into Lord Tantalus’ eyes, and for once Rick’s beady little eyes are lit with some of the fire he had back when he stole the top title in Maryland out from under the thumb of the local golden boy.

RP: I hope Punky tears your *BEEP*ing pet monster apart.

Tantalus only smiles.

For a fleeting half second up on the stage, everything slows down.  My heart is pounding and I’m fiery, my Mad Hatter shirt clinging to me, but I’m grinning like the silver skulls holding my punkytails even with my eye battered shut and my body wrenched at the joints from slamming into the steel -

- but I feel fucking fantastic, because in those dead mad eyes I can see the faintest flicker of something other than boundless fury and screaming madness.

I don’t know what it is. I don’t think it’s fear. I know what fear looks like well enough when I’m fucking looking at it.

But I don’t think it’s Aika, either.

But it’s just a flicker, a heartbeat - and then I see beads of blood running under the mask, and my grin widens, feral and bright. Because if it bleeds, I can kill it.

That look - whatever it was - is gone like a shadow passing over the lunatic moon, and Aika is there again, snarling, demanding more. MORE.

MORE!

I give her what she asks for.

My Docs dig into the stage and I hear Philodendron Jones behind me at the gorilla position, using words that would make Standards and Practices frown and thumb through their slang dictionaries. My legs tense like steel springs and launch me forward.

I can see everything in the endless space of a single breath.

The people of Asheville, up on their fucking feet across the US Cellular center, and the thousand flaring eyes of flashing LEDs capturing a moment of immortality. The flare of pink and the sober tweed of the announce team, their heads craned towards us. The enigmatic smile of Tantalus. Sadie on Red’s back as he carries her away from danger, her face lit up with a satisfied joy in herself that makes her look almost angelic. The sober fury on Tiffany’s face, the confidence in her own strength as she watches Sadie flee slowly turning to a look of wide-eyed shock as she turns to see what Aika and I are doing.

And then I crash into Aika and wrap my arms around her waist as I spear her like a Spartan, and there’s not even time to breathe as we crash through empty space to land in a brutal clatter of production cases, toppling all around us with a sound like the end of the world.

LvK: BLESSED SAINTS PRESERVE THEM!

RP: Oh, *BEEP*, they’re dead.  They’re both dead. *BEEP*.

[MileenaJade89]

Wow that Vixen knows how to fight!

[Lord Tantalus]

I watch Aika teetering on the edge of the stage. I see Punky poised for the spear.

Next to me, Rick has his moment of bravado. I give him a smile.

But my heart pounds like its trying to escape my ribcage.

Punky charges, slamming into Aika's body, and the two of them fly off the edge of the stage. For a long moment, they seem to hang there like a mobile hangs from the ceiling of a child's bedroom. Their bodies intertwined, locked together. Aika's legs wrapping around Punky's hips... Punky's arms around Aika's waist... Aika's arms flailing behind purple flowing punkytails... they fall for an eternity, twisting together...

... and then they slam into the hard equipment below. Ten feet down. Aika on her back and Punky on her head.

LvK: BLESSED SAINTS PRESERVE THEM!

RP: Oh, *BEEP*, they're dead.  They're both dead. *BEEP*.

I'm standing. I don't remember doing it, but here I am.

And now I'm running. From behind the announce desk, around the ring, toward the ramp and to the wreckage.

I saw the impact on the monitors and it's in my head as I run.

Punky's head bouncing off the floor, her body twisting into a sitting position, her head cocked just to the side. She stayed there for a moment, then collapsed down. Aika's back smashing into the boxes, her body arched like a taut bow, her lips making a sound that I will carry with me to the grave. Then, like Punky, falling into a twisted heap, her limbs contorted like a dying spider.

I don't remember getting up and I don't remember running, but there I am, at the scene of the impact.

These two women lying in front of me. Broken into pieces.

I'm not alone. Medical and security are out here, telling me to stand back. I tell them to fuck off.

I kneel down beside Aika. I see the blood under the mask. See her eyes shut. Two security men push me away as the EMTs start putting her on a stretcher.

I turn to Punky.

I kneel down. Her eyes are shut, her lips quivering. Her pale skin, so perfect. It's not hard to see why Rowan fell so hard for you.

I check for a pulse while the EMTs deal with Aika. Yes. And strong, too. But you've always been strong, haven't you?

I take her hand in mine. "You're going to be all right," I tell her. "Just hold on."

And with that, Punky's eyes flicker open.

I almost jump. She looks up at me. Looks at me holding her hand.

And she doesn't look happy. No, that glare is about the furthest fucking thing in the world from happy.

She starts to move. I tell her to stay down. She replies in curt, abrupt four-lettered words. She's getting back up. I can't belie—



Then, I hear a hissing sound. Like a coiled serpent.

I turn to look. But I already know what's there.

Aika is standing behind me, the EMTs backing away like they'd back away from a rabid dog.

She's glaring down at me.

I'm kneeling over Punky, holding her hand.



That's the last thing I remember.