CAST OF CHARACTERS:
Me: I’m Kayla. I’m a lover and a fighter. Born to battle, born to win. Connoisseur of fine wine, fine women, fine men and fine living. Soldier of fortune, yet as gentle and unassuming as the situation requires. Often stubborn, always alluring. Who needs balls when one has boobs?
Her: My little Marie. Nice when she wants to be, tough when she has to be. Canadian gymnast extraordinaire. Can be ditzy, can be serious, can be foolish, can be fooled, can unexpectedly turn the tables. It’s not the size of the girl in the fight; it’s the size of fight in the girl. Big girls beware!
Them: The unlikely pairing of an English Muffin and a Cajun Coquette. Famous for their wars against each other, now being told to put it aside to save their collective butts. Associated with beer, chocolate, taxis and a mutual attraction to an average Joe.
Emma Fox: She doesn’t show up in this chapter…..I just happen to like the name.
Referee: He’s Boche, Marie’s countryman, eh? ‘Though Gemma and Jonica believe him to be prejudiced in favor of their opponents, he’s as impartial as the wind and the sun.
The Tall Announcer Woman: The beautiful and talented Jessika. If Gemma and Jonica knew of her connection to Kayla, they would surely be worried about favoritism……but they don’t know, so it doesn’t make a shit’s worth of difference.
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(ACT I: Omni Royal Orleans Hotel…. Kayla’s room)
So many nights, so many fights. So many hotel rooms.
Some were cheap, dirty little hovels. This one, however, is the lap of luxury. Ms. Emma Fox certainly knows how to do it in style, and she’s always willing to share some of that style with the people she hires. She’s hired Marie and me to battle it out in a best-of-five-fall match with two opponents of her choice. We’re fighters for hire; it’s what we do.
As I think of her, Marie’s face pops up from between my naked thighs and I laugh at the pubic hair that’s attached itself to her tiny face. She smiles at me and goes back to her task, going down on me like a beaver in heat. So hot. So nice. That little tongue of hers. Glory be!
“Kayla.” she whispers, and I smile. No other words are needed; I always know what she’s thinking and feeling…..and vice-versa.
We’ve spent so much time on the road; one town after another, and all look the same after awhile. Still, there’s the thrill of battle, the ecstasy of yet another conquest. We fight for money, for glory, for the thrill of victory. We get lots of thrills and make lots of money. Lots of victories, too.
Jonica called us mercenaries. Well, yes, that is an appropriate term, I suppose. I don’t even remember when Marie and I got started in this. It’s been a few years since I left my native South Africa for good while Marie traveled from her home in Canada, but we both shared the dream of being professional fighters and we put those dreams into action.
Before I had my first contest, I trained relentlessly. I remember thinking I had learned all there was to be learned, only to find in my early matches that training did little to prepare you for what happens in an actual fight. It is, literally, a painful lesson to learn. I won and lost until experience became my friend and made me into one of the most feared and successful fighters ever. I’ve got strength, durability and endurance that come as much from my experience in track and field as from fighting. Plus, I’ve got a treasure trove of fighting tactics at my disposal. I have had thousands of wars of every type of fighting imaginable and all of them have served me well. No one overpowers me and few can outmaneuver me.
My earliest lessons came from Jessika. Yes, Gemma and Jonica are only now finding out that our “ring announcer” has a fighting background of her own. They don’t know, though, that it was Jessika who trained me in my earliest stages of fighting. I felt the pain from her slashing fists long ago. She hurt me, she taunted me, she hated me, she loved me……and most of all, she taught me. There could be no better tutor.
If Gemma and Jonica knew the history between Jessika and I, they would be even more paranoid than they already are. Marie and I have laughed at the skittishness they’ve displayed as they ponder if Jessika, Emma Fox and the referee are all working against them. Tee Hee!
The fact is, none of them are biased, although Marie and I aren’t going to share that knowledge with them. Let the Brit and the Cajun think that everything is stacked against them; I have no problem taking an edge when it’s presented to me. Marie agrees with me and we keep all secrets to ourselves.
Ah, Marie.
At 4’11 and a mere 90 pounds, how many opponents have been lulled into a false sense of security by her lack of size? And jeez, there’s no doubt she’s the smallest fighter I’ve ever seen, although she claims to have been beaten in a wrestling match by a teammate on her gymnastic team in high school who was even smaller than her. Marie told me that it was this defeat that caused her to take some fighting lessons of her own. After doing this, she developed a love of the sport that led to her leaving home to make a living at it.
As I said, opponents take a look at her tiny body and relax. In matches I’ve had against her (yes, we’ve fought several times); I have to admit I’ve occasionally let down and found her to be much tougher than I believed. You would think I would know better, but the little girl just looks so damn peaceable. She uses speed, wrestling knowledge and tenacity to wage war against larger foes. Her greatest asset?...... she freakin’ never gives up, never stops moving, and never comes up for air. She has worn down bigger enemies with her perpetual motion.
While Marie and I occasionally accept individual matches, we like performing as a tag team whenever possible. The contrast between our styles has led to many a victory. By the time our opponents figure out one style, we throw another at them. Marie dazzles ‘em with speed and I counter with strength…….then, when our foes think they have that figured out, Marie will start punching like a boxer while I turn to intricate wrestling tactics to tie ‘em up. We’ve been enormously successful.
And yes, Marie and I have been in the employ of Ms. Emma Fox before. Gemma and Jonica seem to think we’re in cahoots with her, but we aren’t. Ms. Fox has simply employed us as fighters and we’ll fight for anyone who pays us……and the fact is, Ms. Fox pays better than anyone else.
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But now it’s time for me to reveal something I don’t like admitting. The fact is that we’ve been a bit unnerved by the opponents we’re about to face in the third fall of a “best 3 of 5 falls” match here in Louisiana.
I can’t believe we lost the second fall of this contest to Gemma and Jonica; I cannot friggin’ believe it. We won the first fall rather easily; it was about what we expected. We have long since learned that opponents can usually be categorized and rarely deviate from the style they normally use. Sure, a fighter will occasionally surprise you but I’ve found that once we have them figured out, they can be dealt with on our own terms.
You want a scouting analysis of the two women we’ve been tangling with? Sure.
Gemma has had experience as a fighter; that’s for damn sure. She has some knowledge of wrestling holds and isn’t afraid to mix it up with anyone. She’s a legitimate tough girl. That doesn’t worry me much because I’ve dealt with tough girls before. If I’m going to be honest, though, I have to admit that the degree of her toughness surprised me, especially in the second fall when she cleaned my clock. This has happened to me so rarely that I didn’t adapt in time to save the fall. She beat me…..and that’s another strength of mine, by the way; I am realistic and honest enough to admit when someone gets the better of me. I turn this into an asset because it allows me to adapt instead of going ahead blindly with the same strategy that got me into trouble in the first place. I know there are fighters who are stronger than me (like Jessika) and faster than me (like Marie) and knowing this allows me to come up with alternate plans during a match. But Gemma overcame my best efforts in the second fall……and it worries me, I can’t pretend it doesn’t. I’ve heard tales of her fearsome backbreaker, but we haven’t seen it yet because she didn’t even need it in the second fall. She’s dangerous.
Then, there’s Jonica. While her partner is definitely stronger and more adept at the nuances of fighting, Jonica is the black marble in this match…….and that worries me a lot. On the surface, she doesn’t seem to have any real, specialized knowledge of fighting tactics, nor does she seem overly strong or fast. Also, to look at her, she just doesn’t appear to be that tough. She has displayed a diffidence and lack of confidence when she looks at Marie and me, and we just jump on that kind of thing. Oh man, how many opponents have we destroyed when we spotted that weakness? The list goes on and on.
But that’s where we went wrong with Jonica, at least in the second fall of this match. She seemed to alternate between wild brawling and a fearful hesitation. One minute, she’s shying away from contact…..and the next moment she’s got fire in her eyes and attacking viciously. We don’t know what’s turning Jonica on and off, but we had better figure it out before the third fall starts.
In that second fall, Jonica provided the difference between their team winning and losing. I never would have believed this possible because it seemed that Gemma was the one who was going to do the heavy damage for their side. And, sure enough, it was Gemma who broke my rib, locked me up and beat me until I was forced to submit. But Jonica made it all possible.
The truly upsetting factor was what Jonica did to Marie in that second fall. As I said, she was the random factor that allowed Gemma to win for their side, even as we thought she would be the weak link. Marie and I have saved each other a thousand times during matches. We work so well together that we have a telepathy that tells us when and where to make the save. When Gemma had me locked up in that second fall, I was watching for Marie to break free and knock Gemma off of me. To my shock, however, Marie couldn’t do it. Amazingly, Jonica was using smothering tactics to keep Marie from getting loose to help me. Watching Jonica in the first fall that was won by us, I never would have believed she could be capable of outwrestling Marie, but that’s exactly what she did. Jonica entwined her limbs around Marie’s and wouldn’t allow her to escape; which is exactly the type of offensive tactic in which Marie usually excels. She also knows how to extricate herself from these holds, yet she was helpless to do so this time.
Elton John sang: “She wraps herself around you like a well-worn tire.” Well, that’s what Jonica did to Marie and it unsettles me to think she had it in her. I can’t believe she had the foresight and ability to even try it….and I can’t believe she was adept enough to successfully apply it to a technical wrestler like Marie. As I said, Jonica is the black marble in this contest…..we don’t fully know what’s she’s capable of, and that makes her very dangerous.
And because of it, we lost the fall. But, hear me: We’re going to win the third fall to insure that we need win only one more fall after that to clinch the contest. Make no mistake about it. As upsetting as it is that those two sluts broke my rib, it makes me only more determined to emerge victorious in the end, as I always do. And don’t underestimate Marie’s determination, either. She didn’t say so directly, but she was humiliated at Jonica’s outwrestling her in that second fall. She won’t allow it to be repeated.
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(ACT II: Omni Royal Orleans Hotel.......Grand Ballroom)
“Oh, how nice everyone looks!” exclaimed Jessika. “I’m glad to see that you four ladies know how to properly present yourselves in a luxurious setting such as this.”
Yeah, well, what Jess is saying is half true, anyway. While Marie and I are dressed stylishly in dresses (mine is orange, Marie is in red), I notice Gemma and Jonica are decked out like streetwalkers. Are those skirts they’re wearing, or are they shorts? Jeez, I can practically see Jonica’s snatch from where she’s standing in that white top with navy blue shorts (or is it a skirt?). Gemma is dressed just the same except that she’s in yellow and green. Plus, while Marie and I are demurely holding glasses of fine wine, those two are guzzling beer like a couple of truck drivers.
This place is sure elegant, though. It’s the grand ballroom of the fine hotel in which we have accommodations. Emma Fox knows how to keep it classy, that’s for sure. The thing is, we were told that our match would start promptly at 7:30 and it’s almost that now. Given that, I wonder where the wrestling ring is and how we’re going to change into our gear in time. Before I could ask Jessika, Gemma did.
“Say, Ms. Ring Announcer, there’s no wrestling ring in this hotel; I know that for a fact. Are we going to be traveling to another part of town?”
“Yeah,” chimed Jonica, with sarcasm. “And what are we going to wear? Is it going to be those topless bikini outfits again?”
“No, my dears,” chortled Jessika. “We have a rather unique surprise for you. The match is going to be held right here!”
“What?” cawed Gemma. “We’re going to wrestle on hardwood floors? What kind of place to fight is a ballroom, for shit’s sake?”
“Yeah,” echoed Jonica, “And where are our wrestling outfits?”
“Why, you’re wearing them now!” chuckled Jessika.
Marie and I smirked at each other. We’re veterans of this business who’ve seen it all. It’s true that this room is pretty small to host a wrestling match with four participants, but then, you wouldn’t believe some of the places we’ve engaged in battle. There was that time on the roof of a skyscraper, one time aboard a tugboat on the River Mersey, a time in the basement of a whorehouse in Atlanta. I even remember a time Marie fought a rich woman in the kitchen of a McDonald’s restaurant. Dangerous business, that. Marie wound up shoving her victim’s head in a deep-fryer of boiling vegetable oil being used to cook french fries, for God’s sake.
As to our opponent’s concern about what we were wearing, Marie and I had no problems at all. We’ve been forced to wrestle in every kind of clothing……which includes no clothing. So, fighting in dresses wasn’t going to stop our momentum.
Plainly, all of it was bothering Gemma and Jonica, though. They obviously didn’t like the conditions. For one thing, the hour of combat was coming up on them all too fast. They had been told we would start at 7:30 but presumed that was an error because there was no way we could be transported and change wardrobe that fast. However, Marie and I knew that when Ms. Emma Fox says 7:30, then 7:30 it is.
Before anyone could say anything else, Jessika tapped her own wine glass and announced that the fight would begin NOW! She placed special emphasis on the last word, giggling lightly.
“And now for the match stipulations you’ve been wondering about,” proclaimed Jessika, grandly, looking only at Gemma and Jonica. “First, let me inform Mr. Boche that your good services as referee will not be needed tonight, although you will receive your full salary.”
“Why?” asked Jonica. “Don’t we need a referee to enforce the rules and decide when the match is over?”
Jessika replied: “An official will not be needed…… first, because there are no holds barred and therefore no need for anyone to determine what's legal or not. As for determining a winner (Jessika giggles) an official will not be needed since the winners and losers will be easy to identify.”
“How?” queried Gemma, looking nervous.
“You notice the three strands of braided rope on the floor? The losers will be the two ladies who have been hog-tied by their opponents with those ropes. When they are both bound and helpless on the cold, hard floor, the match is over and the girl (or girls) who are standing free and untethered are the winners!”
“Holy shit!” cried Gemma, in dismay. “Are you saying we have to tie their arms and legs behind their backs in order to win? What the fuck?”
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The four of us retreated to opposite corners of the room, kicking off our shoes and trying to prepare as best we could, given the short notice. Our opponents looked very much unnerved as they chugged the rest of their beer. We could see them talking but couldn’t hear them
“Quit looking so fuckin’ nervous, Jonica.” implored Gemma. “ Kayla and Marie are watching us. Just think about what we did to them in the last fall. I mean….shit, I never saw you look so good. You were kicking ass, and so was I. We took ‘em before and we can take ‘em now. Never mind the wrestling tactics, just go out there swinging. Let’s give ‘em everything we got.”
“Everything we got.” murmured Jonica. “Yeah, okay. Everything we got worked great last time, didn’t it? Yeah, it did. Let’s get ‘em!”
As I watched Gemma talking to Jonica, the two of them visibly relaxed and perked up. That must be one hell of a pep talk, that’s for sure.
“Look at them, Kayla.” said Marie, a hint of disgust in her voice. “Look how confident they are. Look at them smirking at us. I can’t believe we actually lost a fall to these damn amateurs. We’re professionals, for God’s sake. How can they be standing there and looking at us like they own the fuckin’ world?”
“We let things get out of hand last time by brawling with them.” I replied. “All we need to do is wrestle the way we know how. They can't hope to match our technical ability. Don’t let them dictate how this match is going to be fought. Let’s dazzle ‘em with technique.”
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As we prepared to start, I looked thoughtfully at the “ring.” It was a luxury ballroom, not very large, with three walls that looked as if they were made of poured liquid gold and a fourth side that consisted of a glass door. There was an exquisite chandelier in the middle of the room. It was an amazing place, but hardly one appropriate for a fight. Ms. Emma Fox had either atrocious taste or a strange sense of humor. But one thing that was apparent was that there was nowhere to hide. We were here to fight.
I stepped to the middle of the floor expecting that Gemma would come out when she saw that I was starting the match. To my surprise, Jonica emerged and approached me slowly. Her face was an enigma; she showed her usual hesitation but it was joined by that insolent smile I saw a minute before. How dare she take me so lightly? Didn’t she know whom she was facing?
Apparently, it didn’t matter to Jonica who I was as she launched a direct frontal attack. She came at me swinging with everything she had and landed several hard punches to my face. It forced me to back off, which was something I definitely didn’t want to do. As I stepped back, she kept charging forward, still swinging with wild abandon. I stopped her by lifting a knee to her gut, forcing a started “OOF! from her. I figured she would head straight backward but she surprised me by moving swiftly to the side, forcing me to turn awkwardly to face her. When I did, Jonica attacked again, taking advantage of my momentary lapse in leverage. Her accuracy was scary as she connected with almost every one of the flurry of punches she threw. One shot pounded against my nose, causing me to blink. When she saw the shot land, Jonica backed away, smirking again. She was waiting to see if I put my hand to my nose, which is a natural reaction to catching a shot there.
But I’m no amateur, nor am I a wimp. I know enough to not show weakness by reaching for the afflicted spot. I merely sniffed, looked her in the eye, and came forward again. Jonica’s eyes widened when she saw that and immediately retreated to her corner, tagging in her partner. Gemma came at me cautiously, leading me to believe she was ready to exchange wrestling holds. She extended her arms as if to tangle and I responded in kind, but when she reached me, she started throwing punches in rapid motion, windmilling her arms in an attempt to overwhelm me with a show of force. Again, I was taken aback and got hit with numerous shots before backing off. Gemma hit harder than her partner and I decided that my defensive posture wasn’t going to serve my team well. I hated the idea of Gemma and Jonica dictating the way this battle would be fought. I had to turn the tide somehow.
I did so by stepping away from Gemma and half-turning toward Marie in our corner. I extended my arm toward her as if to make a tag. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Gemma smiling with glee and running forward rashly at me…… straight into my flexed forearm which bludgeoned her in the chest and sent her sprawling on her ass in the center of the room.
I took a quick look at Marie, saw her smile and sensed her admiration for me. She’s seen me turn the momentum against an opponent many times before and has even adopted some of my moves……..and now I had provided a new one for her arsenal.
Gemma stood up, holding her chest and watching me balefully. The smirk I noticed earlier was missing now as she walked backward to her corner and tagged in Jonica. I figured it was the right time to tag Marie. I walked to my corner (it was strange not having ring ropes to step through) and watched as the two blondes approached each other.
Marie, who had been calm as a clam since the match started, showed sudden anger. She shook her fists at Jonica and stamped her foot on the floor several times. Jonica backed away, an alarmed look on her face. When she did, Marie sprang forward and attached herself to Jonica, entwining her legs with the taller girls’ and wrapping her arms around Jonica’s neck. She dragged the stunned Cajun to the floor, tightening her limbs and shrieking:
“I’m 90 pounds, you hear me, cxnt? I weigh 90 fuckin’ pounds! Not 95 like you said in the first fall. Not 100 pounds, either, as you also said. I’m 90 motherfuckin’ pounds, you got it? If I weighed 100 pounds, I’d look like a fuckin’ sausage. You got it, bitch? You got it?”
In all the matches I’ve been involved with Marie, I’ve never heard her scream at an opponent like this. Was she really angry about Jonica mistaking her weight? Did she really think Jonica was calling her fat? Or was it a tactic? I honestly couldn’t tell but since Marie was controlling her foe, I figured to just let it lie. I couldn’t help smiling a little, though.
Jonica was struggling mightily against her small opponent. Any reticence she may have displayed earlier was gone now as she fought to extricate herself from the stifling hold and Jonica twisted and squirmed until she freed one arm which she used to start battering Marie in the face. My little friend tried to hang on but was soon forced to release Jonica, who quickly stood and ran to the corner to tag her partner. Gemma came running to the center of the room as Marie scrambled to her corner to tag me.
Gemma and I wasted no time in attacking. We met in room center and banged bodies in an attempt to gain an advantage. I wanted to wrestle, but it became quickly obvious that Gemma wanted to stick with her strategy of brawling. Again, I didn’t like having the terms of a match dictated to me and I avoided most of Gemma’s punches as I bent down low and grabbed her legs, pulling them toward me and flipping her onto her back with a splat on the hard floor. She winced when she hit. It was plain that Gemma was more comfortable using her upper body to grapple against opponents. She liked to punch and shove, so I threw her off by keeping my focus on her legs. With her back on the ground, Gemma struggled as I bent and twisted her legs in every direction I could force them. She screamed bloodlessly as I yanked them into impossible angles and used her legs to turn her onto her stomach and torture her some more. In desperation, Gemma drew both legs back toward her and kicked out as hard as she could, catching me in the chest and forcing me to release the hold. My work had taken a toll as she grimaced and scurried back to her corner as I turned to mine to tag in Marie.
Now, Jonica and Marie approached each other with the taller girl being more cautious, not wanting to be trapped by Marie’s smothering holds again. But Marie was too skilled a tactician and within a moment, she had maneuvered behind Jonica, jumped on her back and brought the Cajun girl down by wrapping her arms and legs around her torso. Even as she went down, though, Jonica wasn’t having it this time. She grunted loudly and started slamming elbows backward into Marie’s side. The small girl tried desperately to hang onto her stubborn foe, but Jonica would not be denied and Marie was forced to release her and try to push her away. Jonica wouldn’t allow it and forced Marie onto her back, mounting her. She straddled Marie and tried to punch out the smaller girl as she sat on her but Marie was returning fire at Jonica with rapid punching motion. Even from her position on the bottom, she was inflicting great damage on Jonica and forcing her off. The two girls rolled away from each other and stood up a few feet apart, winded and tiring. They both tagged out.
Now, Gemma and I got in and started attacking savagely. I had decided that our opponents were too bent on our destruction for us to try and fight them scientifically. Their very lack of technical wrestling background was what was stopping us from inflicting our wills on them, as strange as that might sound. It was time for all-out war and we were determined to out-brawl the brawlers. Gemma and I went at each other like hellcats. We punched, we kicked, we pinched. We slammed each others faces, each others boobs and each others bodies, leaving welts and bruises. We went at it hard for 10 full minutes.
As much as I hate to admit it, Gemma battled me evenly. I was hurting her and she was hurting me. We stood back for a moment, both breathing hard and trying to cool down our overworked bodies. As if on cue, we both turned to our corners and tagged in our partners. Marie and Jonica stepped in and resumed where Gemma and I had left off. They went at each other like animals and proceeded to inflict fierce damage on each other. There was no scientific fighting now, just wild brawling and the mutual desire to tear the other to shreds. Marie seemed to have the edge, but there was no quit in Jonica as she battled tooth and nail against her more experienced foe. They punched, slapped, scratched and clawed before drawing back, panting and in pain. They, too, went for a full 10 minutes before sheer exhaustion forced them apart.
I took stock of the situation. We were tired, but so were they. I felt that our superior conditioning and vast experience would allow us to take over the match now. After all, they seemed to have no strategy left….. while we did. Yes, they could continue to brawl until they dropped while Marie and I could revert to scientific wrestling to finish them off. Our strategy seemed sounder.
To this point, no one had even attempted to grab one of the ropes on the floor in an effort to hog-tie her enemy. When we all had too much energy, it would have been futile to try. Just the act of trying to immobilize the limbs of a resisting opponent is almost impossible and all of us seemed to know it. Now, though, it was a different story. All four of us were nearly spent; our chests were heaving in an effort to catch our breaths and our bodies ached from the pounding we had inflicted on one another.
