[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!

[Virginia Dare]

A brief moment of surprise as Sadie waves at me.

Then a long, hot breath of anger as I hear what she says.

And finally, a long, cold stare as Red carries her away on his shoulders.

I throw down the candy and leave the building.

[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.

[Rowan Chance]

Austin, Texas. I feel my body lifted up high over Jenny Dare's head then slammed down on the apron of the mat. A powerbomb. I feel my spine bend and the muscles in my back split apart. I scream so loud, the cheap seats could swear they were ringside. My arms at my sides, my hands clenching, my eyes shut tight. My body trembles, and I feel my toes go numb.

The referee asks me if I want to quit. I shout something at him that the TV audience never gets to hear. I've never lost an "I Quit" match. No woman has ever made me submit. And this blonde bimbo isn't going to be the first.

She raises me up a second time, sending me back down at the edge of the apron. The crowd doesn't make that "Ohhh!" sound, they don't cheer, they don't boo. They are dead silent. When I hit, there's an electrical flash through my limbs. I can't scream. I can't make a sound. The referee asks me again, but I can't answer.

And before he can ask a third time, Jenny raises me up and slams me down again. To be honest, I don't remember it. I had to watch a video to even know what happened. I see myself—as I do now—my body slamming into the apron, bouncing up, then falling back down. Broken over the apron of the ring, my eyes shut tight, my lips trembling, my arms limp on the apron. I mumble something. The referee bends down to hear it. I see my lips moving again and he calls for the bell.

Jenny keeps the Austin Championship and I spend a few months in traction.

The mists of memory start to part. New gear can't hide old injuries...


LvK: Ladies and gentlemen, we've FINALLY got EMTs and security out here, taking care of Punky and Aika... I have to say, we've seen some insane things here in FTW, but never anything like that. The commissioner is going to have to do something about this.

RP: They're professionals, van Keel. You let the women work.

LvK: This is too far, Rick. A spear off the stage, ten feet to the cement floor? Did you see how Megan's head bounced off the...

RP: Look, these two are crazy. You put them in a steel cage and one of them is going to be making the other one eat it.

LvK: (turning to the camera) I want to apologize to our audience right now.

RP: Don't waste your time on the smarks. Right now there's some @#$hole telling his girlfriend, "Don't worry, sweetie. They know how to fall."

LvK: Goddammit, Rick! This business isn't about...

RP: HOLY #$%^! AIKA IS STANDING UP!
 

The crowd erupts into discordance as Aika draws herself up as if pulled by marionette strings. And at the same time, Punky pushes Tantalus away and he tumbles out of the camera's eye. Security guards and EMTs grab both women, keeping them apart.


Aika charges...

... but stumbles...

... falling to her knees...

... screaming...

... and clutching her back.


And it isn't Aika's voice that screams.

It's Rowan's.


Punky's body swerves like a drunk driver, screaming at Aika: "HOW'S THAT FOR @#$%ING PAIN, CHANCE? I CAN HURT YOU, ROWAN! I CAN @#$%ING HURT YOU!"

From her knees, Aika howls. She leaps up, but the mass of security and EMTs hold both women apart, their limbs reaching over heads and shoulders, clawing and kicking. Then, slowly, the two groups move to the backstage...

The audience erupts into a unified chant of boos.


LvK: My God...

RP: I knew it was all an act! I knew it!

LvK: (glaring at Rick, then back to the camera) Ladies and—ahem—ladies and gentlemen... this has been a most unusual episode of Full Throttle Wrestling. I... I'm... (slowly shaking his head)

RP: van Keel's lost it. I have no idea what's next, but hey, producer, let's go to it!

[Tenebris Messem]

LVK: No no Rick! I haven't lost anything!

RP: So...what do we have next, van Keel?

LVK: These are the sorts of things you should be aware of as a professional wrestling announcer, Rick.

RP: Uh, yeah. I think I lost the format sheet.

LVK: *sighs*

Suddenly, the whole screen turns white and only a long *beeeeeeeeeeep* can be heard, like a test of the Emergency Broadcast System.

An image appears in the screen.



It stays on screen for several seconds before we suddenly cut back to the announcers, looking a bit surprised.

RP: what was that?

LVK: I … don't know! It almost looks like …

*Larry suddenly listens to his headset and then speaks much more confidently*

LVK: Looks like we just had some interference with our signal, but it’s all been cleared up now.

RP: But what was that nutty picture?

LVK: You got me there, Rick. It didn’t look like any sort of logo I’ve ever seen.

RP: Well, it damn sure wasn’t Diet Pepsi. My guess? That was some mystic BS from that Aika and Tantalus! Again!

LVK: Whatever it was, it's all fixed now, and we can go on with the show!

[The Second City Wrestlerette]

After this very interesting „match“ - and that interfering signal - the scene changes and we're in the backstage area again. The part with the FTW-caterers' buffet set up, to be exact. Wrestlers  and staff members, sitting, eating, chatting, and after a while Lisa Starr is in the picture. Rocking back and forth on her steel chair, Converse sneakers clad feet put up on the table, and a huge plateful of Chicken Nuggets and French Fries resting on her lap. Shaking her head while looking at the TV screen.

„Now that was f*BEEP*ing cheap!“

She mutters after the bell has rung and Sadie gets carried out of the arena by Red. Her eyes remain fixed on the TV as Megan and Aika keep going at it. Meanwhile, in the back of the screen, you can see a bunch of security guys running by on their way to get those two away from each other before they beat this entire city to ashes. Lisa's eyes grow as Megan spears Aika off the stage. “And THAT was AWESOME!” Lisa raises her cup, and as the security and EMTs flood in to hold them apart, her eyes drift to the side.

“Finally!! And where have you been all this time? You missed the 'match'. Megan and Aika were beating the crap out of each other! You shoulda seen this!! Speared her ALL the way from the stage, down to the concrete floor! Stuff flying EVERYWHERE!”

Lindsay steps into the picture, standing next to Lisa. “Oh I've been...nowhere! And...oh no! I missed that? That is...such a shame!” You can see on her face that she's lying. She's horrible at lying!! And it's obvious that she's actually pretty happy she didn't have to see Aika. And from the looks of it, Lisa's not sad either. She has the motel room next to Lindsay's after all! And it's hard to catch sleep when the girl next door is screaming all night.

Lindsay quickly changes the topic to “Hey, thanks for saving some food for me!” looking at the 17 pieces of fried chicken on Lisa's plate, who looks up at Lindsay a little confused and answers. “Eh...no?” “But...isn't that a bit much for you?!”

“That's what they said.” Lisa points across the room and the cameraman follows the direction, showing the Mulkey cousins. Both of them rubbing their foreheads. “And they got a tray to the face.” Lisa says with a satisfied grin across her lips before putting a couple of fries into her mouth. “Oh....oh, okay...” Lindsay mutters, then lets out a big sigh and looks down at Lisa with puppy eyes. It doesn't take long until “Fiiiiiine! One!”

Just as the hungry Dragon reaches for it, their attention is taken away from the food as an irritating voice echoes through the room.

“Look, Red, I know you're probably not talking to me right now,” Sadie says.

“You're right, I'm not.”

“I get it, heat of the moment and all. I just want to say...”

Red EXPLODES.

“What, Sadie? What is it that you 'just want to say?' That I should be happy for you that you tied the Countdown noose around your neck tonight? That I should pat you on the back for announcing to the entire world that you're Callista's new puppet? That I should smother you with kisses, because you publicly humiliated Jenny Dare, just because she's a girl from my past?”

“Actually, I just wanted to ask if you'd buy me a milkshake.”

And there they stand. In the middle of the room, everyone glaring at them. The Red Enforcer with his little Sadie Davis on his back. Everyone's just looking for a few seconds, until...

“AHEM!” Lisa loudly clears her throat, sets down her plate and gets to her feet. Arms folded across her chest, Lindsay standing slightly behind her. “What do we have here? The newest little figurine in Callista Quinn's game of Chess! And her...mule?”

Lindsay pinches Lisa's arm and whispers “Ehm...what do you mean, Chess?” “She joined Countdown.” “Oh, ok! … … WHAT?!”

Sadie hops off Red's back and walks to the table, facing Lisa and looking her square in the eyes. Red's right behind her.

“Very impressive win out there! I mean, the way you did absolutely NOTHING was great! Actually was the BEST I've ever seen from you.”

“And who are you again? I have trouble remembering the names of nobodies.”

“I'm the girl who's going to do the world a favor and shut your annoying little mouth for good.”

“Take your best shot, sugar-plum, but...” Sadie nods toward Lindsay “...shouldn't you give your baby a bottle and put her down for a nap first?”

Lisa's eyes narrow as Sadie smirks right into her face. The tension's rising, and Lindsay starts tugging on Lisa's arm. “Ehm. Lisa? Calm down, maybe? Ah...no trouble here, okay? Like...everyone's watching! And...and Sadie, that wasn't very nice!”

Lisa pulls her arm from the Dragon's grip “Feeling pretty good about yourself, huh? Think ya can take me? Then why don't you ask your big guy over there what it's like to be pinned by me, 1-2-3, in the middle of the ring! He should remember. Wasn't too long ago, was it? And you, little girl, should be careful what you're saying. The only thing that changed since you joined Countdown, is that now I have even more of a reason to beat the living hell out of you!”

“Liiiisaaaaaaaa! Calm down...”

“Looks like you should tighten the leash on your barking little dog, Lindsay. She's getting out of control!”

“And maybe YOU should get your brains out of your dick, start growing balls and finally, for ONCE do what YOU think is right, you masqueraded prick!”

Lisa hasn't even finished her sentence before Sadie EXPLODES, screaming as she flies over the table at Lisa. “NOBODY DISRESPECTS RED!!” Food flies in all directions, as the Dragon Starrs stumble back a few steps. Pressing forward, Sadie rocks Lisa with a forearm to the jaw.

Lisa's head jerks back, but she replies with a fist to Sadie's face. And gets one right back at her. The two are brawling back and forth. Lindsay steps in from the side, looking to separate the two, but before she can get there, Red is quickly behind her, hooking her arms in a Chickenwing-Hold to keep her from getting in the middle of this.

“HEY!! Let...me go!” Lindsay gasps as she struggles in the hold. Arms tensing as she shakes them side to side, but Red simply overpowers her, pulling her back and away from the two girls that are brawling all over the place now. He tells her to “Let them go. Get it out of their system.” As he keeps dragging her away. Linds keeps struggling for a while...until she realizes that there's not really a point to it. And Lisa would just make the rest of this night miserable if she pulled her away from this fight.

Linds starts to relax, stops her struggling, and Red loosens the hold. He even releases it with one arm as he steps closer to a table, takes a Doughnut and starts munching on it while watching Sadie and Lisa go at it.

The staff members back WAY up, while the wrestlers just take a few steps back to clear some space, looking at each other and wondering what to do here. The punches keep flying, and eventually Lisa gets the upper hand. Firing away with forearms at Sadie's jaw. Then a quick kick to the belly sends Sadie stumbling backwards until she rests against the edge of a table.

“Lemme show ya what I think of Countdown!” Lisa steps in towards Sadie, looking to follow up. And as she does, Sadie reaches back, grabs a bowl filled with Guacamole and flings it right at Lisa's face. Spilling the green dip all over her face and the Chicago Blackhawks Jersey she's wearing. Blinding her for a moment. The bowl drops to the floor with a loud crash as Sadie follows up, charging in and hitting Lisa with a Dropkick to her knees, sending her flipping over and landing on the floor.

Sadie gets up and glances back at Lindsay, locked up by Red. “I used to think YOU were the weak link of this Dragon Starrs fiasco, but now I'm beginning to have second thoughts.” Turning back to Lisa, Sadie grabs her hair and the belt around her jeans before flinging her over a table into some bystanders. Food flies helter-skelter as Lisa tumbles over the table. Luckily, she's caught by Monstro who, unsurprisingly, is the first in the buffet line.

He looks at Lisa for a few seconds before deciding to set her down, standing on the floor. (Apparently he knows that you don't throw away food. Guacamole in the face and all.) Sadie doesn't like it though, grabs a plate and THROWS is across the room towards Lisa. She sees it coming though and ducks, everyone behind takes a step to the side to let it fly by, right towards the door...which opens. In it stands the returning FTW interviewer Anna Ruethli (you might remember her from Fury 1, where she made the mistake of going into the Countdown's locker room for an interview, never to be seen again...until now). And...her return doesn't last very long. Before she can even say hello, the plate EXPLODES in her face and she goes down in a motionless heap.

“That was unpleasant!” Red says before taking another bite from his doughnut.

Lindsay takes a deep breath before yelling “NOW I GOT YOU, SADIE!”

Sadie flinches and turns around, ready to see Lindsay running right at her, but...she's still standing there, held by Red. She's just standing there, smiling at Sadie and giggling a little “Hi!”

This distractoni gives Lisa a chance to close in, and she quickly does. Leaping up on a table, using it as a springboard to launch herself into Sadie just as she turns back around. Lisa hits her with her left arm around the neck, takes her down, keeps her down and throws wild punches down at her forehead. Sadie squirms wildly underneath this barrage, and eventually slips out and rolls away.

She rolls under a table, toppling it over to keep Lisa from crawling after her. More food and drinks get spilled, blocking Lisa's way as Sadie gets to her feet on the other side, brushing cheese grits off her tank top. “Whose stupid idea was it to put food in a cafeteria?!” Lisa growls as she takes off to the left. Jumping onto a table, then down towards Sadie. Trying to hit her with a kick to the chest on the way down, which Sadie evades.

Once Lisa lands, Sadie swings wildly with her right fist. Lisa ducks under it, making Sadie hit the Blue Fairy square in the mouth. Both look at her as she goes down, and a few moments later Sadie comes charging in for a Clothesline. Lisa ducks, keeps her legs bent, sets herself up. And once Sadie turns around, Lisa explodes right at her. Flinging her right foot up as hard and fast as she can. Looking to kick Sadie's head right off her shoulders with a Superkick.

WHACK!!!

The impact echoes through the room. And a body drops like a bag of rocks. Unfortunately that bag of rocks is one of the Mulkeys who Sadie pulled in front of her at the last second. (These Mulkeys look so alike, I have no idea which one it is).

Lisa hisses in frustration as Sadie just glares back, fists clenched, her sweat damp hair stuck to the side of her face. But before the two can hurl themselves into each other again, Security spills into the scene, pulling the two girls apart.

Red finally releases Lindsay before grabbing Sadie's shoulder “Let's get the hell out of here. Now.”

Sadie throws one last look back at Lisa before turning to follow Red out of the café, while Lindsay and pretty much everybody else tries to calm Lisa down, which is easier said than done...

[ThePurpleVixen]

The screen fades from the chaos backstage to a shot of rain-swept cityscape in black and white.  The sound of the storm is all there is at first, the wind rushing and the rain lashing the pavement in great curtains of silver.  The camera’s perspective races along the shining wet sidewalks and then up the Gothic face of a skyscraper, adorned with gargoyles and baroque cornices as it overlooks the windy city - and standing with her Converse sneaker planted on the head of a gargoyle on one corner of the building is FTW’s own Lisa Starr, in Technicolor against the grayscale city, her blue-streaked blonde hair blowing in the storm wind. The camera pans behind her Yasuharu Takanashi’s “Battle of Magic” begins its orchestral electric snarl, showing the shirt Lisa is wearing, highlighted with a flare of intense color, featuring a manga version of Starr in the same pose atop the Willis Tower in Chicago, and the camera whirls around to reveal the front of Lisa’s shirt, with her SECOND CITY STARR logo above Chicago’s skyline.  A legend underneath reads Lisa Starr: Second City Starr Edition.

The shot seems to leap from the building, plunging down into the black-and-white streets and racing along until it comes to a junkyard, lit with flaming barrels, where in the center of a ring of junked cars stands Tina Lee, her boot propped on a prone figure, holding an iron chain in both fists above her head in the pouring rain as lightning crashes to illuminate her shirt, reading GOT IRON? on the front and showing a silhouette of her standing just as she is now on the back, surrounded by the highlighted words THE SPECTACULAR TINA LEE.  A legend appears underneath her as the camera pans back around front, reading Tina Lee: Got Iron Edition.

The music keeps blazing in a race of drumbeats as the camera races past her, through the city to find two shady figures in police uniforms entering an alley, guns drawn.  One suddenly has red stars burst from behind his head and drops, and his partners turns, shining a flashlight whihc illuminates a figure in a blare of colors crowned with purple.  Punky is holding a steel chair in her hand, blood bright red on the head of it, and she spreads arms wide in her black leather jacket, revealing her white shirt which shows a purple-punkytailed stick figure similarly armed with the words STAND BACK - I’M GOING TO TRY VIOLENCE written around it, and the legend appears underneath - Punky: Try Violence Edition before she lunges at the remaining cop with a grinning snarl as the camera pulls back and dives through a door in the alleyway.

The scene is suddenly one of lush beauty, exotic figures in black and white doing clearly illicit things, negotiating affections and drowsing in decadence, and standing in a lit mirror in a flare of gold hair and red lips is Sadie Davis, wearing a white tank top with a blood red kiss across the chest and underneath the dreamy red script “Who’s The Deadliest Of Them All?” She seems to see the camera behind her and blows a taunting kiss into the mirror as the legend below reads Sadie Davis: The Deadliest Edition, and Sadie seems to backhand the camera, which rockets into the next room.

Here is the familiar muscled and masked figure of the Red Enforcer seated in a comfy upholstered chair, and surrounded by black-and-white ladies of the Establishment who are, it seems, costumed to look like various FTW superstars.  The camera catches Red turning towards it and holding up his hands like a politico caught selling state secrets, and across his broad chest is a black shirt with a manga version of the Red Enforcer surrounded by cartoon versions of some of the ladies of FTW who have crossed his path, with the katakana-style title ENFORCER MUYO.  The legend underneath reads Red Enforcer: Wishful Thinking Edition.

Red seems to lunge for the camera as it darts away, through the window and back into the rain, and up the side of another building where it stops at the top of a clock tower, and balanced atop the clock is a tall blonde with her arms spread out like eagle’s wings, Jenny Dare in a white tee showing her in the same posture with her eyes closed and her head thrown back, and the camera turns around to catch her leaping into the stormy night and shows the word DARE across her back as underneath the legend appears, reading Jenny Dare: Snake River Edition.

She seems to vanish into the storm, and from the shadows behind her the camera catches the hooded form of Callista Quinn, with a black shirt that shows a flying pocket watch above the fancy olde fashioned words TIME FLIES. The camera pans behind her and lightning flares as looks back over her shoulder and casually shrugs her hoodie down her long arms, showing the back of the shirt, first revealing the words WHEN YOU’RE HAVING and then a bloody Mag-Lite locked in a fist with the word FUN in the shaft of light.  Underneath appears the legend Callista Quinn: Time Flies Edition before Calli turns and brings the Mag-Lite crashing down on the camera, sending the image to static.

Across the static flickers the red, buzzing, fluttering words “NOW AT FTWSHOP.COM” before the screen turns to a single white line and then fades to a blip, like TVs never do anymore.

[ThePurpleVixen]

“Megan,” some vague fuzzy figure was telling me, “you need to get an MRI. You might have a concussion. There could be serious brain burbleburbleblahblahblah …”

I either tuned them out or started to lose consciousness, but either way it was a relief.

I was being held in a locker room backstage with a few polo-wearing security guys, a handful of refs and a pair of well-meaning EMTs. The official FTW doc, that handsy sawbones, was apparently trying to get at Rowan’s vertebrae over in the US Cellular Center’s nurse station.

Some ruckus backstage drew off the refs and the Security crew, and the EMTs satisfied themselves by shining a light into my eyes and making sure that my pupils contracted before putting an ice pack on the side of my head and telling me to see a doctor. ”No fuckin’ problem. I got my own personal physician ready to help me out at the drop of a fuckin’ hat,” I told them. ”Everything’s cool.”

So now I’m swaggering along backstage having a conversation with my doctor, and he’s telling me that I’m doing pretty great and I should probably punch someone in the face soon. “You’ve got a damn fine point there, Dr. Daniel,” I tell the bottle of whiskey in my fist before knocking back another dose of medication, the ice pack held nicely against the side of my ringing skull with my other hand. Luckily for my medical needs, Gabby the Saint decides to pick right that fucking moment to come clacking along on her fancy shoes and get in my face.  Well, in my tits.  She’s kinda short.  But she’s LOOKING up at my face, and she looks angry.

“Miss Dow, I was under the impression that we had an UNDERSTANDING. I was willing to give you an opportunity to resolve your differences with Miss Chance in the ring.” She’s practically snapping, biting off the end of each word, and you can almost hear the furious Spanish curses bubbling and boiling under the veneer of clipped professional language.

I don’t say anything, just looking down at her with my eye swelled shut and an ice pack on the side of my head, and I slowly lift the bottle and give Jack another kiss, whisky glugging between my black lips. Her eyes narrow.

“If you ever disrupt my program like that again, I will-“

And that’s about enough.

I drop the ice pack and come forward with a snarl, pushing right into her.  I don’t attack her. I don’t even grab her by the throat, like my fingers are itching to do. I just bull into her until she’s back against the wall, her eyes flaring with the sudden realization that she doesn’t have her security staff with her and there’s no cameras to see what I could do to her back here.

“You won’t do a FUCKING THING.” I snarl at her, low and close, and I slam my fist with the bottle in it to the wall beside her head. She doesn’t jump. She might be injured and retired and old, but she’s still La Santa. She is intensely aware of my knuckles bleeding on the concrete beside her head, though, and the whiskey sloshing behind the black label. I lean in closer, my battered face right against hers.

“This is a fucking wildfire, and you are not gonna stop it. You aren’t even gonna slow it down. And if you try to fucking control it … it will burn down everything it touches.” I tilt my head, staring into her furious eyes, her lips a thin line of rage, pressed right against her as I push her back against the painted concrete wall.

“Try whatever you fucking want to stop us, Gabs. But that bitch and me have spilled blood, and there’s gonna be more. There’s gonna be blood for blood, and by the fucking gallon.”  I take a long, gurgling pull off the Jack Daniel’s, draining the last of the bottle and feeling the sweet burn of my medication before I wrap my hand around the bottle and smash it beside her head, and this time she DOES jump, lucha legend or not.

I peel my hand off the wall and hold it before her face, and glass glitters in the palm as blood runs down my wrist as I look at her through my spread fingers, and for a fleeting moment I’m almost sorry that I have to drop all this crazy on a worker like Gabs - but she can’t get in my fucking way.

“No matter what you do, no matter what you say, no matter how hard you try to stop it - “

I slap my hand on the painted concrete, and there’s slight gritty crunch of glass and blood runs down the white wall, leaving a murderer’s handprint as I growl softly against her lips, as close as a lover.

“ - there will be blood.”

I turn and stalk off down the hall, and I’ve turned the corner and made it almost outside before she recovers herself enough to start berating me, her legal threats and disciplinary promises interspersed with the occasional fiery promise to rompa my cara (you can take the girl out of Arena Mexico,but …) ringing off the walls as I boot the doors open and walk out into the dark.

… to find a fucking 24 hour walk-in clinic in Asheville, because god-damn, now my hand hurts almost as much as my fucking head.

[Callista]

The email from Fury's producer acknowledged receipt of my edited version of the video, and promised that it would be the version aired. That bit of business finished with, I closed the laptop down, wrapped the FTW championship belt around my waist, and pulled the gold-trimmed black robe I'd added to my ensemble over my shoulders. I left the robe open at the front, of course, so as not to obscure the belt from view.

Heading out of Countdown's locker room, all I had to do now was track down Red and Sadie before the video aired and ended. Knowing them, they were probably in a supply closet somewhere. I didn't strictly NEED them, as all we were going out for was my coronation, but-

“Miss Quinn!” My thought process was interrupted by a familiar and unwelcome voice behind me. I turned and there was FTW's Commissioner Gabriela Dos Santos, headed towards me. La Santa had a good poker face, but by the way she was walking, she looked perturbed. Odd, I'd have thought if this was going to come up, she'd have been by sooner.

“If this is about Ms. Davis last night,” I began, but was prevented from continuing.

“Yes, yes,” she said impatiently, “She wasn't in Countdown last night, therefore not in violation of my restriction, and you no doubt have some means to prove this, or at least prevent me from proving that she was. I'm familiar with your M.O.”

My jaw tightened, but I forced myself to maintain a calm exterior.  Gabriela had made it plain she intended to portray herself as the reasonable one, only responding to overt provocations. I just had to ensure there weren't any. “If it's not that, then what is it?” I asked. 'Probably something Megan did,' I thought.

“I see you've got your gear on,” she said, which seemed a complete non sequitur. Of course I did. I know what reactions I garner. There's every chance me talking would provoke someone. In any event, Gabriela continued, “That's good. I've decided I don't want to end the show on a long talking segment. You're going to have a match.”

There was a pause, after which my response was, “I beg your pardon?”

“A match. Wrestling. You've done that, right? Anyway, get ready. You're entering as soon as your video starts,” she said before turning and walking off.

After a moment, I found my voice and called out, “Against who?!”

“You'll see!” the damnable woman said cheerily as I heard the opening riffs of my video echoed over the arena's PA. After a moment of grinding my teeth, I stalked angrily off, knowing I had less than four minutes to find those two idiots and get to gorilla.

[Callista]

LvK: Welcome back everyone.
RP: Big news! If you're listening from the bathroom, get up now! You can wipe later!
LvK: ...that's vile.
RP: Coming up next...
LvK: Seriously, that's the worst thing you've ever sa-
RP: COMING UP NEXT, a tribute to our champion...
LvK: ...you were walking funny when you came back from break.
RP: I've got no idea what you're...STOP INTERRUPTING ME, VAN KEEL!
LvK: I'm gonna be sick.
RP: A TRIBUTE TO OUR BELOVED CHAMPION, CALLISTA QUINN!

https://youtu.be/TL_WYb-cEdc

[Callista]

RP: That was awesome! *clap clap clapclapclap*
LvK: You know what I think is awesome? I've just been informed that we're going to close out the show...WITH A TITLE MATCH!
RP: Ok, for once I agree with you van Keel! That IS awesome! Callista must have demanded it.
LvK: Yeah, I'm sure that happened...

CHARLES GITEAU: THE FOLLOWING CONTEST IS SCHEDULED FOR ONE FALL, AND IT IS FOR THE FTW WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP!

-----------

The two horny idiots had apparently found a better spot than usual, (meaning they weren't in the supply closet,) and I was out of time. The crowd was going nuts as the championship match had just been announced. I got back to gorilla just as the ticking from my music started.

And bloody right it was MY music. I'd tried for team unity, no making the office pay out royalties to Hendrix or Queen for a better song for me, and of course as soon as things went poorly for them, (entirely due to their own mistakes,) they'd decided I was selling them up the river anyway, and then bitched about the music anyway.

This line of thought irked me enough that I walked over to the PA and slapped him in the back of the head. He gave a start, but I immediately said, “Give me a mic, and make sure it goes live when I bring it out on stage.” He wisely obeyed.

When it was time, I pulled the robe's hood up, backing through the curtain with my arms out to my sides. No longer was I wearing the simple cotton hoodie. You could still buy it at shop.ftw.com and at countdown.com, (I wasn't going to throw money away,) but I'd be f***ed if I was going to hawk anything that would make that miserable purple-headed slut a single penny.

I would however happily cannibalise old merch sales for new, though, as across the back of my black robe was gold trim of a letter C and the Countdown's gold pocket watch logo, the watch turned nearly upside down so the pendant was in the lower right, mimicking a Q. I'd had a trademark application filed with myself as the holder, and had my lawyer, in his role as Countdown's lawyer, file a brief pre-emptively agreeing that this new logo does not impinge on Countdown's trademark.

T-shirt and hoodie replicas of the robe were already available on websites, and weren't they a deal, especially since all of Countdown's old merch had mysteriously doubled in price since a few hours ago. Forget steel chairs and bent referees. If you wanted to engage in PROPER villainy these days, you needed a legal team and an IT guy.

I turned to face the crowd, robe still open at the front to show of the title belt around my waist. I soaked in the boos, and lifted my right arm up, the robe's sleeve falling away to reveal the microphone in my hand. I lifted the mic to my lips, and my music faded. I stood there, with my head bowed forward, my face hidden by the robe's hood. In a firm voice, I said, “All hail your champion.”

The boos intensified, but I lifted my head, showing my face. “All hail your queen!” I lifted my head further, tilting it back and letting the hood slide away, my arm lifted to hold the microphone up in front of my face. “ALL HAIL!” I said loudly, pausing, letting the noise crescendo before finishing “your saviour” and letting my chin tilt forward again, looking out at the crowd as the yells and boos and catcalls and occasional cheer wash over me.

“Hate me if you want,” I said in a more casual voice, stepping forward in a slow stroll down the ramp, sauntering as arrogantly and gracefully as a cat. “Because love me or hate me, you can't deny that you need me,” I said, eliciting several such denials, along with assorted profanities and lewd propositions.

“You need me, and I don't need you, and that will forever place yourselves in my power. Get used to it.” I stepped carefully onto the first step at the corner of the ring, making sure the bottom of my robe didn't get caught under my boot. “Take heart though. You need me, and I...I am not going anywhere.” I lifted my right leg, sliding it over the middle rope before setting it down and leaning forward, climbing through the ropes and into the ring.

“Wotshername, Italian bird, is still nattering on about how she hates the Countdown, but she's not anywhere near me, is she?” That was a slight risk, as it was possible that the Commissioner planned on giving her a rematch, but as she'd already wrestled today, it was a low one. No way was she going to put someone who wasn't fresh up against me.

“Then there was Sadie Davis. I beat HER so bad that she up and joined Countdown just to make sure it would never happen again!” I said, unable to conceal a smirk as I said that. It was rather taking liberties with what actually occurred, but she'd done the same with HER little video, so...

“I sent the silly blue-haired bitch back to the indies,” I said, letting the boos and arguments against that wash over for a second, before concluding, “the simple fact is that everyone who opposes me will fail, everyone who seeks to place themselves as an obstacle in my path will fall, and whoever it is your bloody Commissioner is sending out now will be no different,” and then tossing the mic in the general direction of Giteau, the loud noise over the PA indicating that it was not caught, before stepping out of my robe.

RP: Strong words from a strong champion.
LvK: Some of them were even true.
RP: Everything she says is true, van Keel. She is our saviour.
LvK: Ugh.

I'd let my pique show in that last line, which suggested it was for the best that I not continue. I was undeniably irritated that I had no idea who my opponent was. As I went through some quick warm-ups, I tried to think who La Santa might have in store for me.

Presumably no one who had fought tonight, which ruled out Layne, as well as that new girl, Tina something...Tiffany...Megan and Rowan...oh and Sadie. Hrm. Could she be trying an intra-Countdown ploy, here? Red was a possibility, but Sadie was another. She didn't exactly have to DO anything in her match. Maybe one of the Dragon Starrs, (contrary to my prior pronouncement, I was aware Lisa hadn't gone anywhere.)

There were possibilities there, but none of them felt quite right. I didn't think La Santa was aware enough of Countdown's internal idiosyncrasies to spot the fracture points. As for the others...this all was designed to put me off-balance. Whoever it was going to be would be someone I would have difficulty anticipating. Any of the better talents on our roster would be someone I'd scouted heavily.

What if she brought someone in? She had contacts all over the industry. One of her Japanese contemporaries? Mayumi, Manami, or even Aja? Or maybe someone more my generation, like Kana or Ayako. AJ was technically a free agent now, but was probably still under Vince's no-compete...

Suddenly, music started up and bright lights flashed at both the ring and the stage area.