After her apology, Maye and I hit it off and became friends. I just let it be known that I couldn’t be friendly with the folks who egged on our fight. But she decided to remain friends with them, but she promised she wouldn’t let them have so much influence over them. Now don’t get me wrong, she’s an adult and she can have whomever she wants as friends. Who would I be to say otherwise? It’s just that I don’t like people who try to bully others into situations they don’t want to be in. That’s what happened when Maye and I fought. But we are working hard to get past that.
Unfortunately, we didn’t have the chance to let our friendship blossom much farther after the end of the summer. Maye had to return to school and I went back to my mundane day-to-day life. We kept in touch on Facebook , and we chatted every now and then on the phone, but life went on.
It was nearing Christmas of that year when I finally had the chance to meet with Maye again. She was in from school for the Holidays and she said she wanted to meet up for lunch at a downtown bistro. We hugged each other like old friends…it was hard to imagine we actually fought the first time we met. We chatted for a little while, and then she told me of a proposal she had.
It seems that Maye is in need of a little extra money for Christmas this year. Seasonal jobs are in short supply, and one of those most likely wouldn’t pay out as quickly as she hoped for a fast approaching Christmas morning. So she had an idea…and she wanted me to be part of it. A local nightclub is sponsoring a “women’s wrestling night.” Both pros and amateurs are welcome. Since neither of us have any wrestling experience, she thought it would be fun for us to wrestle each other. There is even a payout to each participant, with the winner of the match getting a little more. Maye also winked at me and said that she could get a little payback for the beating I gave her in our fight. She told me that she has no desire to ask any of her old friends to help…they are the ones who goaded her into fighting me last time. Which was a fight she didn’t want to begin with.
Of course I was skeptical, at first. I asked her about safety and rules, and she said that the club holds participants’ safety as their number one priority. The rules were simple, you rolled around for a little while without punching, biting, or hitting each other with chairs, and then you pin your opponent for a count of three or make her give up. Each match only has a ten-minute time limit.
Of course…since the event was being held in a nightclub…I was skeptical about our attire. She said that the organizers are happily urging the female participants to dress as sexy as possible…and in as little as possible. That’s what draws the crowd in, they claim. She said that most of the girls were wearing two-piece bathing suits. She encouraged me to wear a thong. I probably should have asked why at the time…unfortunately I didn’t.
I wasn’t sure about this idea at first, but I started warming up to it when Maye told me how desperate she was for the money. I reluctantly agreed. She was ecstatic! She gave me the details on the place and time, and I told her I would be there. After that we finished our lunch and parted as close friends.
Of course my boyfriend Joe was VERY skeptical of Maye’s idea. After all, the first time she and I met, we had a fight. He asked if somewhere in the deep, dark recesses of my brain I didn’t suspect she might be setting me up for revenge? Of course, I called him ‘an asshole,’ and I pouted the rest of the afternoon.
Later that night, Joe told me that he did some checking with some friends who worked Algiers. He said they told him those wrestling matches are usually pretty interesting, but sometimes they can get quite rough. The crowd is usually well behaved; the club has several huge bouncers. They told him that it was probably safe enough…unless Maye and I were planning on fighting with bottles and chains. Joe seemed to relax a little, and I kind of started looking forward to it. I could use the money, although I secretly planned to lose just so Maye would have plenty of money for Christmas. Besides, I did kinda go a little overboard during our fight. She probably needs a little taste of victory.
The day of the match finally arrived and Joe and I set out for the club. Of course he was still being an asshole, and I was still being a bitch. I suspect that he secretly hopes I’ll get beat up and then I’ll learn to keep my mouth closed. Too bad being beaten up hasn’t stopped me from running my mouth in the past.
Joe and I enter the club and find a table. I have to check in as one of the participants, and I’m told that one of the staff will inform me when it’s time to get ready. The time drags on, but there is no sign of Maye. Three matches conclude while we wait: One pretty good one between two male pros, a pitiful one between two amateur men, and an amateur fight between two women. The women are beautiful. They obviously are college girls wrestling for extra money. They wear as little as possible. And the match quickly turns into a bitchy catfight. The poor referee doesn’t know what to do with the hissing and spitting hellcats. He finally counts a pin and declares the blonde in the white thing the winner. But this apparently enrages her redheaded opponent, who now wants to fight the blonde, the referee, and the bouncers. She is quickly led away. Still there is no sign of Maye. I start to get worried. I really get worried when a waitress approaches me and tells me it’s time for me to get prepared for my match.
I inform her that my opponent hasn’t shown up. She smiles and informs me that my opponent is already in her dressing room, and has been for about an hour. I look at her dumbfounded for a moment, and then I shake my head and follow her to my dressing room.
My dressing room is a small dreary place that was once a large closet. My dressing mate is the blonde who just “won” the prior fight. She looks me over when I open the door, and says, “I wish you were my opponent instead of that crazy red haired bitch. She almost ripped my nipple off.” I just stare at her as she rubs her aching boob. She sees me looking and invites me to rub it for her. She giggles when I turn away.
“So, are you the one fighting that fat bitch in the other dressing room?”
“Yeah, I guess so. But she’s my friend, and she’s not a bitch.” I reply to the blonde’s question.
“Whatever. She has told everyone she sees how she is going to hurt you tonight. She seems real set on destroying you.”
“She’s just playing the part. She’s here for fun…just like me.”
“Whatever. She has this mean group of bitches with her. And I don’t think they like you very much.”
Now I’m a little confused. “A group of girls? Most of them heavy set?”
“Yeah, that’s them. I think they are planning to hurt you. You want me to stick around and walk out with you?”
“What is this all about?” I wonder to myself, “Yeah…maybe you should.”
“What makes you think she’s your friend? I know a couple of the girls with her, and they love to start trouble.”
“I don’t know. She and I became friends after I beat her up in a fight she started.”
“Oh boy. You are being set up. Better watch your back. I’ll stick around and see if I can help. I hate people like that. My name’s Taylor, by the way.”
I shake Taylor’s hand and introduce myself, “I’m Joni. Thanks for offering to help.”
“No problem, I love to fight. I want a match against you in the very near future, though.” She says with a glint in her eye.
I can’t help but smile at her.
I finish dressing and preparing while Taylor and I chat until the waitress informs us it’s time to go to the ring. We leave the dressing room and walk through the excited crowd all the way to the ring. A couple assholes pinch my butt on the way, but Taylor discourages such behavior by slapping the offenders in the face. I climb up onto the ring and awkwardly climb through the ropes. This is the first time I have been in an actual wrestling ring. I’m a little surprised at how hard the mat is, and how much spring it has. The crowd is actually applauding me! Damn, I haven’t been cheered on since I was on the high school swim team! Unfortunately, most of the noise is from jackasses who just want me to take off the long black t-shirt I wore to the ring.
After a moment, I see some commotion from the other dressing room. Then I see several girls I recognize walking down the aisle. I know instantly where I’ve seen them! They’re the group who goaded Maye into fighting me the first time! I can’t believe it! I’ve been set up. That realization really hits home when Maye climbs up on the side of the ring and starts to climb in. She is dressed like a pro wrester. She has on a tight paisley full body wrestling suit and black boots…like the wrestlers on tv wear! She glowers at me as I look at her in shock! Her eyes hint at nothing but animosity for me. She has come here for revenge.
I feel like I’ve been betrayed. I can’t believe that I agreed to this. But there is obviously no backing out. If I tried to leave, the bloodthirsty crowd would most likely toss me back into the ring. It’s obvious from their chants now that they think Maye is going to destroy me. I can’t help but agree with them. She is quite a bit bigger than me. I’m only 5’2” and she is around 5’3” or 5’4”. But the biggest difference is that she is over twice my 120 lbs weight! She has to be around 240! I’m gonna get squashed. And the crowd is in a frenzy thinking about.
The referee climbs into the ring and tells me to get ready. I reluctantly remove my t-shirt and reveal that I’m wearing only a black and white tiger striped thong bikini. The crowd goes wild! “Fucking animals,” I think to myself.
The referee calls us to the center of the ring and goes over the rules. At least Maye didn’t lie about those. He tells us to shake hands then go back to our corners and await the bell. I reluctantly raise my hand to Maye, but she slaps it away and growls, “I’ve been waiting a long time for this moment, Barbie Doll.” I just stare at her and then retreat to my corner as instructed…anger starting to build the entire time.
The referee gives the signal to begin and I cautiously walk to the middle of the ring. Maye meets me there, but she is obviously confident of a swift victory…she drops to one knee, grabs my leg at the knee, and jerks me to the mat. I land with a thud that knocks the breath out of me. Before I can move, however, Maye is on me like a bolt of lightening…and it’s apparent that she knows more about wrestling than I do.
She slides to my side as I lay on the mat and traps my head in a headlock. She puts all her weight down on top of me and rolls onto her side…atop me. I struggle but I know I can’t match her with strength. I also know that I’m not getting out of this hold without resorting to some dirty tactics. But I’m too pissed to care right now. I reach up with my free hand and claw at her eyes. At the same time, I bite her on the side of her boob…she was asking for it by sticking it so close to my mouth anyway.
Maye recoils in horror as I sink my teeth in and claw at her eyes. She releases the headlock and scrambles backwards away from me. I rise to my feet and try to give chase, but one of her friends sticks her hand through the ropes and grabs my ankle. I fall forward and my momentum sends me face first into the mat, knocking the breath out of me again. Maye is on her feet by this time and she retaliates for my bite by driving her elbow hard between my shoulder blades. She stands up and yanks me to my feet by the hair, lifts me up, and slams my back hard to the mat. She should have finished me off at that point…it would have been easy. I was almost out of it. But she had to show off how she was humiliating the “Barbie Doll” for the raucous crowd. She paraded around the ring accepting accolades from the crowd and her friends…minus one, by the way. Taylor saw to that after Maye’s friend tripped me. That poor girl was now lying on the ground massaging an aching jaw. Maye’s little dog and pony show allowed me to get some of my wind and strength back. By the time she turned her attention back to me, I was on my feet. And I was beyond pissed by now.
Now I’m not the best fighter in the world. I never claimed that I was. But I do have a terrible temper. When cornered I will bite back. Literally. I thought Maye was my friend. But this whole time she was planning some stupid kind of retaliation. Well, I’m not having any of it. I’m gonna beat the shit out of this fat, lying whore.
When Maye turns back to me, I strike out with my barefoot and kick her square in the belly. Her air leaves her with a loud, “Oof,” and she doubles up. I see my chance, and I drive a hard knee into her exposed chin. She stands up briefly, then crashes hard to the mat. I’m still not dumb enough to think I can match her strength with strength, so I jump up high in the air and land with both feet right in the middle of her unprotected belly. He eyes fly wide open and she grasps at her aching belly. When she half rises off the mat, I sneak behind her, grab her short, curly brown hair, force her head between my legs, lock my ankles, and then I roll onto my side. I have her trapped. And she knows it.
She struggles and squeals, but I have her firmly trapped. Her lack of conditioning and weight are really coming back to haunt her now. Her struggles subside, and I lean over and ask, “Hey piggy, give up, yet?” I can’t hear her response, so I keep applying pressure.
To make her current predicament a little more uncomfortable, I grab her flailing wrist and straighten her arm. I tuck that wrist under my armpit and apply pressure to her elbow with my forearm. Pretty soon she is squealing again, but I can’t tell what she’s saying because her face is now buried in my crotch. The referee asks if she is submitting, but I’m the wrong person to be asking that question…I’m still pissed remember? I look at him and reply, “Nope, she says I need a bath, though.” I keep applying pressure.
Finally, I get tired of this, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to win. I ask Maye again, “Do you give up, fatass?” Again I get nothing but mumbles from my crotch area. So I tell the ref, “She’s really starting to piss me! All she can talk about is how smelly I am.”
I release the scissors and arm hold, but before she can say that she wants to quit, I drive my heel hard into her chest. Now she won’t say anything for a while. I glance around for a moment…thinking of how I want to end this…then I come up with the perfect way. Joe and I saw this awesome move on UFC a few nights ago. I think I’ll try it. I walk behind Maye, who is struggling to sit up. I knee her hard in the back for good measure, and then I drop to my knees behind her. I tuck her head under my armpit…her chin pointing up and I sit back. I don’t know what this hold is called, but it soon has her slapping at my arm just like the poor guy who was trapped in it on UFC did to his captor. But I add a twist….I put both my legs around Maye’s torso and I squeeze until she starts squealing. I whisper in her ear, “Squeal like the pig you are, fatty.” Eventually she goes limp. The referee stoops over her and declares the match is over. I release the hold and jump up and enjoy my victory! I place my barefoot on top of Maye’s beaten body and look at her shocked friends, “I own this fat bitch.” Then I walk from the ring with my new friend Taylor at my side.
Back in the dressing room, Taylor congratulates me on my win. She also asks if I want a match with her next week. “At least you’ll know what to expect.”
I’m still ecstatic over defending my honor, so I readily agree. I can’t believe how much I enjoyed that! I can’t wait to try it again.
I saw Maye later that same night as she left. She wouldn’t make eye contact with me, but I got several dirty looks from her friends. I never heard from her again.
Author's Note:This story is the second part of a request another member made a little while back. I'm sorry it took so long to get it finished, but it's hard to write with all I have going on right now....you know, sleep....eat....bathe....nap....watch the ripples as the baby moves....eat....nap....watch soaps...nap....chat with nosy elderly neighbor who likes to think she's my babysitter....nap....run off elderly neighbor's 13 year old grandson who likes to peek through my bedroom window....eat....nap....chat with Gemma while napping....eat....sleep....
I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
J
xoxo
