Jennifer Love Hewitt v. Taylor Swift
The first match on the card was, for lack of a better term, a jobber veteran versus a jobber newcomer. Fans were anxious to see what Ms. Swift was able to do in the ring, and thanks to her complete lack of exposure, her mystique worked to her advantage. In her locker-room, Jennifer Love Hewitt was pacing back and forth. Sure, she’d competed countless times before, but with the stakes so high, she knew that she had to make a good impression. She was sick and tired of being treated as a complete victim, and a strong, fast victory could help erase that. On the other hand, since Taylor has amassed such a vast fortune, maybe she’d hired a staff and begun training.
Meanwhile, in Taylor’s locker-room, calm was the word of the day. Since she was blissfully unaware of what to expect, Ms. Swift showed the kind of even-handed composure an experienced performer would have developed over a career. She calmly sipped her water as she adjusted her wristband. Her outfit was designed exclusively for her, a blue lycra spandex two piece with pants instead of shorts, and she decided to outfit her arms with streamers to “add to the theatrics”.
The announcer welcomed the rabid audience and told them to prepare for the first match of the night. He then introduced Jennifer Love Hewitt. As she walked through the curtain, Love flashed her trademark smile. She waived to the crowd as flashbulbs captured her baby pink bikini top and matching shorts. Jen stopped short of entering the ring to shake the hands of some of the bigwigs, hoping to score some brownie points with the Hollywood elite.
Taylor came out next, her ridiculous tassels fluttering about as she twirled at the entranceway. Much like JLH, she too slapped the hands of the fans and took time to “kiss the ring” of the powerbrokers. As she climbed onto the apron, she turned once more to waive to her adoring audience. An adoring audience, mind you, that was hungry to see her get destroyed.
Jen decided that fortune favored the bold, and rather than risk making this a fair fight, she would take advantage right off the back and attack the youngster. With her back to the ring, Taylor didn’t see the forearm hurtling towards her skull, but she sure felt it. Swift was launched off the apron and came crashing down against the security railing sternum first. The unforgiving steel bar, ironically meant to keep people safe, did serious damage to her as she collided. To paraphrase the hokey saying, when bone meets steel, steel wins.
Jen didn’t waste time and she slid out of the ring to continue her onslaught. She grabbed a handful of Taylor’s flowing blonde hair (Jen had wisely tied her own locks back in a ponytail) and slammed her head against the ring. A dazed Swift, still in pain from her less-than-graceful landing, was unable to protect her million dollar face. The country superstar was nearly knocked out with the force of the blow, due in large part to the fact that her body isn’t used to taking that kind of punishment.
After repeating the move a few more times, Jen tossed Taylor back into the ring. With the smile now gone, Hewitt was free to unload on the young gal.
Taylor, meanwhile, couldn’t figure out how to make the world stop spinning. Every breath stung her bruised ribcage and her rattled brain wouldn’t let her see straight. Unable to get to a vertical base, Swift laid on the mat hoping that her senses would return to her. Jen, meanwhile, hovered over the girl, waiting to strike.
Hewitt lifted her pink boot and dangled it over the hapless gal’s body before looking for approval from the audience. After hearing a few cheers, she began to stomp on Taylor’s already injured ribs. Swift was unable to defend herself, and the normally subdued Love was now stomping away with reckless abandon. Her kicks were forceful and precise, connecting with shots to Taylor’s left ribs over and over. A large welt began to form on the offending area, and Swift was helpless to defend herself.
Tiring of the kicks, Jen decided to have some fun. She positioned herself at Swift’s feet and scooped up the girl’s ankles. She now had Taylor Swift at her mercy. Once again, Jen looked to the crowd for approval, but this time her foot was hanging above Taylor’s unprotected midsection.
After shaking the cobwebs loose, Taylor was finally able to see straight. Unfortunately, what she saw was Jen’s foot above her crotch. “Wait…please…don’t…” was the best defense Swift could come up with, but it didn’t work. Jen stomped down on Taylor’s pussy, and the poor girl shot up as if she’d been electrocuted.
Taylor’s hands began to flail about on their own, as if the flapping would numb the pain. Swift’s mouth was frozen in a look of confusion, as she found herself unable to make a sound. She then collapsed back down to the mat, her hair cascading in every direction.
Love decided to relish this moment of dominance and deliver another kick. For the second time, Jen stomped down on Taylor’s unprotected crotch. This time, instead of removing her foot, she pressed down and began to grind her heel into Swift’s vagina. The pain caused Taylor to screech in uncontrollable pain, a sign that the fighter in her had fled and all that remained was the poor, defenseless girl.
Tiring of the motion, Jen relented. It was clear that she had Taylor beat dead to rights, but she wanted the money. Love once again grabbed a handful of Taylor’s hair and pulled her to her feet. Swift’s face was flushed and her eyes were glass, and for the first time Jen noticed the tear stains on the girl’s cheeks. For an instant, Jen felt sympathy for the girl. She had, for so many years, been on the receiving end of this kind of punishment, and she felt a special kinship with her opponent.
That moment of harmony quickly passed as she buried a foot into Taylor’s stomach. She then grabbed Swift’s head and executed a textbook DDT, driving Taylor’s battered skull once more into the mat. Taylor was out cold. Jen then rolled the girl onto her back and began to play with her tassels. Hewitt then began to tug at Taylor’s top, much to the approval of the audience. She peered under the bra, taking a quick glace at Swift’s naked breasts. A smile crept across her lips as she realized that she would be the first to expose Taylor’s naked body to the world.
Jen toyed with the fans, asking them if she should in fact strip the unconscious gal. She stood up and went corner to corner, listening for which side would give the loudest cheer. That side, she decided, would bare witness to Taylor’s bare body first.
Perhaps Jen was too enamored with the fans, as she didn’t see that Swift had woken up. Her head felt three sizes larger, her ribs were beginning to bruise, and her crotch was burning. Knowing that she couldn’t beat Jen, Taylor took the only sensible action she could think of. She ran.
When Jen turned her back to Taylor to poll the crowd, Swift slid under the bottom rope. Thinking that the screams were for her, Jen continued to milk the moment. By the time she realized what had happened, Taylor was already on her way to the dressing room. Jen looked dumbfounded at the referee, who put up his hands in confusion. The referee had no choice but to count Taylor out and award the victory to Jen. Disgusted with her inability to humiliate her opponent, Love began to throw a fit in the ring. She kicked the ropes in anger, trying to plead her case to the frustrated promoters who were sitting ringside that this wasn’t her fault. Unfortunately for her, she knew that the next time they used her, they were going to ensure that she was outmatched.
Taylor locked her dressing room door and began to sob, fearful that somehow Jen was going to come find her. Was this the world she signed up for? Was she really expected to endure that much pain and potential humiliation? Worst of all, how the hell was she supposed to survive another round?
