It had proven to be a surprisingly savage battle between the two. Shawn had the definite edge in terms of technical skills, but Lacey's catfighting experience made her more than formidable in this No Holds Barred Brawl. Indeed, Chabert had cannily worked to neutralize her opponent's athleticism, targeting the blonde's legs and back, inhibiting Johnson's gymnastic abilities. In fact, it appeared all over for Shawn when, from the ring apron, Lacey executed a suplex onto a ringside table, shattering the table to splinters when the blonde's back was driven down upon it, and nearly knocking Johnson out from the impact.
But Shawn had held on and then rallied, and as the two diminutive beauties battled around ringside, they finally managed to work their way back into the ring itself. There, standing toe to toe, they traded punches, their sweat-soaked skin marred and mottled with purpling bruises as they ruthlessly hammered away at each other.
Suddenly, both threw haymaker right crosses, fists simultaneously landing to jaws. And they the two battlers just...stood there. Eyes vacant and slackjawed, they swayed unsteadily on trembling legs, both for all intents and purposes literally out on their feet. The crowd held it's collective breath as the seconds ticked by, no one knowing whether one beauty would snap out of it, or if they would both collapse to the mat in unconsciousness, resulting in a draw.
And then, with a suddenly shake of her head, a spark returned to Shawn's hazel eyes. Realizing what had happened...and understanding the small window of opportunity she had before Lacey could come to...the blonde drew her right arm back, balled her fist, and launched a blow directly at her adversary's chest. Shawn's heart punch was a signature move of the tiny tumbler, and it landed perfectly. The impact caused Lacey's breasts to bobble violently as the brunette sailed backward with a wail of pain, landing with a thud on the canvas. Johnson limped over to her and planted a foot atop Chabert's battered bosom, flexing her arms in a victory pose to humiliate her fallen foe. Unmoving, eyes shut, a trickle of drool from the corner of her mouth, Lacey simply lay there as the referee counted to three and called for the bell.
