I dated this biker chick named Bev a couple years ago. One night she was on the internet when she ran across a woman’s slapping contest.
“F*ck,” she shouting, waking me from a brief nap. My eyes opened just as my cell dropped off my chest to the bed.
“What?”
“A woman’s slapping contest,” she said. “Come here and look.”
“Do I have to?”
“Yeah. It’s a riot.”
I got off the bed and strolled over to the computer. Though I liked girls fighting, the women in the contest looked like horses – and they were built like them, too. “Nice,” I said.
“It’s hot,” said Bev. “I’m going to see if I can go to one of these shows live.”
We lived near Austin at the time, which hosted lots of strange events. It wasn’t more than twenty minutes later when Bev shouted, “Bingo,” and found an event transpiring in the Austin area. “The contest is on Saturday.”
“Yea,” I said impassively.
“Hey, I went to Sturgis with you earlier in the year -- and even entered that wet t-shirt and weenie contest. The least you could do is go with me to this competition. You might just like it.”
I agreed to go to the event. When we arrived at the arena on Saturday, we took our seats about halfway up the bleachers at some f*ckin' high school in Creedmore, Texas. Creedmore is about 15 miles south of Austin, or an ass hair away from East Bumf*ck.. I’d never been to the town, which had a population under 500.
I’d say there were about four hundred people present in the auditorium, and many of them were high school kids. And one unusual oddity I noticed is that there were lots of school girls present. I didn’t realize why until they introduced the current champion of Texas – an 18-year-old girl named Claire who weighed about 300 pounds.
“Don’t they have weight limits in this competition?” I asked Bev.
“Apparently not,” she said. “But this girl knocked the previous champion out after five slaps a few months ago, and she’s a high school student.”
“Who apparently goes to school where we’re sitting.”
“Bingo,” shouted Bev, drawing more than a few stares from some of the crowd. One girl put her finger to her mouth to hush Bev. Bev gave her the finger.
The championship match started about an hour after we arrived, as we watched girls slap each other silly though four matches. Claire was finally introduced as the crowd roared with fervor.
“Damn, she’s huge,” said Bev. "She'd put me through a wall, or flick my ass to the ground with her index finger.
“She is huge,” I said, as I watched the elephant enter the ring. She looked about six feet tall.
The challenger was an equally heavy woman who looked about thirty. The two taunted each other for five minutes before the match began.
Cussshhhh!
The first slap from the challenger was loud, as was Claire’s first strike. The contest lasted more than 10 rounds before the older woman staggered into the arms of the referee. She was escorted out of the ring and accompanied by a bevy of doctors, fans and family members, I assumed.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer shouted. “It’s now time for the challenger phase of our competition. Any woman who would like to challenge our champion will receive a five-thousand-dollar reward.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” I said.
“No, they do that in these competitions,” said Bev.
“Are there any challengers out there?”
Several women raised their hands, then the matches began. The first woman, who probably weighed two hundred pounds, lasted five rounds. The second woman, who was around 150, got knocked out in four. Each received fifty bucks per slap they endured.
“Any other challengers out there.”
About this time, Bev started getting antsy, popping up and down in her seat with excitement. She raised her hand and shouted, “I’ll challenge her.”
"Yeah, right," said the girl who'd hushed Bev earlier. "I'd drop you myself with one punch." Bev ignored her.
“Great,” the announcer shouted over the microphone.
“Are you crazy?” I said.
“Relax, Ricky. I don’t expect to win, but you never know. I just want to collect a little money. I’m a little shy on my rent this month.
“Of course, you are,” I said. “You just bought a seventy-thousand-dollar Vette.
“And it’s sweet as f*ck,” she said, as she traipsed off toward the bleacher steps.
I just shook my head as I watched my girlfriend, who was 5’6 and 115 pounds, sashay down the steps, ass cheeks oscillating in her tight jeans, black leather boots hiked up to her knees.
“Boooo!” shouted hordes of high school girls and fans, as Bev made her way to the bottom of the steps, across the floor and toward the ring.
I began to think the entire show was fixed, and that the two woman who’d volunteered were part of the scam. Perhaps I was wrong, but this entire event was f*cked three sides to the wind.
“Ladies and gentlemen, our challenger,” said the announcer as Bev entered the ring, first slipping her right boot through the ropes.
“Boooooo!” the crowd shouted. The fat girl smirked as Bev approached the competition table. The announcer tapped her shoulder and said, “What’s your name.”
“Bev Chambers.”
“Bev Chambers is our challenger,” shouted the announcer, as more boos ensued. Bev just raised and waved her arms, shook her ass and smiled.
“Get some real competition in there,” one guy shouted.
“You got some guts, you skinny little bitch,” one girl said. She wore a cheerleading outfit.
The refs gave Bev some instructions and the match began. As Bev told me later, here’s how things played out in the ring.
“You’re going down, you skinny little slut,” Claire shouted.
Bev’s throat churned as she eyed the girl. She looked as if she were ready to kill her.
“What’s with the Harley sweater, bitch. You some biker chick or something?”
“Yeah. What’s it to you anyway?
“Nothing other than that I hate biker chicks. But I hope you have some good insurance because you’re going down after the first slap.”
“We’ll see, fat girl,” said Bev, which elicited a maniacal glare from the girl. Bev’s heart jumped.
As the challenger, Bev got the first slap, which elicited a smile from the girl’s face. The crowd cheered, then they jeered Bev.
“Come on, Claire,” shouted some teenage girl. “Knock her out.”
The girl went into her winding motion, then delivered a haymaker of a blow across Bev’s right cheek. Cusssshhh!
Bev staggered to her right, then raised both arms overhead. “I’m okay,” she shouted. She tottered back to the table as the referees watched.
“Come on, biker cxnt. Let’s see what you got.”
This time Bev twisted her body around a few times, trying to muster some strength behind her blows. Half the crowd laughed at her.
The strike didn’t faze the girl, but Bev struck her ear. Claire glared at her as she went into her windup.
Cussssh!
A crushing blow struck Bev’s ear and sent her reeling to her right again. She then fell to her side, on the ring’s surface, rolled to her stomach and lay there for several seconds -- face planted against the ring's surface, boot heels cocked outward.
“Match is over,” shouted the referee.
“No,” shouted Bev, as she slowly got to her feet. She teetered across the ring in her black leather boots. At this point, I wanted the match to end because I was afraid Bev would get maimed or killed if it went on much longer. But the contest continued as Claire pleaded with the refs.
“Okay, but if this woman goes down again, she’s finished.”
“Trust me,” said Claire. “She’s going down with the next blow.”
“Unless I knock you out,” said Bev.
This comment echoed over the microphone as the announcer leaned into the conversation. The crowd started laughing.
“Come on, Claire,” said some girl. “Knock the bitch on her ass.”
Bev twisted her svelte hips several times, then struck the girl with all she had. But it had the effect of a fly landing on a railroad track.
“My turn, biker bitch,” said Claire. "By the way, just because you wear tight jeans and boots doesn't make you tough. In fact, you're nothing but a biker cxnt who's about to get her pussy bashed in." And that’s one of the last things Bev remembered from the slapping contest, other than the girl shouting something about a hundred bucks. The next thing she knew, she was lying on the ring floor as blood poured from her nose and mouth, then she passed out.
Bev didn’t have a concussion but came damn close. And as we walked to the car hours later, she pulled a hundred-dollar check out of her rear jeans pocket.
“Well, I made a few bucks anyway,’ she said, as she eyed me. She had a bandage across her broken nose and her left eye was swollen black and blue. And for crying out loud, her ear's been ringing constantly since the girl struck her there. But Bev keeps saying, it's like a badge of honor, just like the tattoo on my right butt cheek."
A few weeks later, Bev got a call from some girl at the high school. She didn’t tell me about it until the day she planned to meet the girl.
“I’m going out to fight some girl.”
“What?”
“One of the high school girls from that crazy, f*cked up high school challenged me to a fight. She said she was a cheerleader or something, and that she wanted to kick my ass. Whatever the case, at least she’s more in my weight class than the other chick. And I'll be damned if I'm backing down from some high school girl, especially a damn cheerleader.”
“You can’t just go fight some high school girl.”
“Watch me,” said Bev, as she slapped the ass of her tight Levi’s and walked toward the door, with the same black boots hiked up to her knee joints. “Don’t worry, she’s legal.”
“Eighteen?”
“Bingo.”
"I hope you don't scuff the boots up in the fight."
"Against a high school girl? Never!"
The fight with the cheerleader is for another day. And not surprisingly, it turned out to be the girl who'd hushed her in the stands that night. All I can say is that the fight was brutal, and Bev really scuffed the boots up I'd gotten her for Christmas, as the fight apparently went to ground a lot. Bev has cleaned the clocks of a few biker chicks, but I questioned her ability to be able to handle a cheerleader. Those girls are great athletes, and they're brutal and tough as nails. Have you seen that "Texas Cheerleader Fab Five" movie? Brutal! I’ve included a few pics of Bev, the competition and the cheerleader she fought. Bev doesn’t like to show her face much anymore. The ass-kicking she got at the slapping contest ended up on lots of social media sites, which embarrasses her to no end. That really surprised me because Bev is pretty cocky by nature.
Hope you enjoy.
BMR
