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Confessions of a Reformed Cheerleader

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Offline Jonica

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Confessions of a Reformed Cheerleader
« on: April 19, 2013, 12:20:29 AM »
Confessions of a Reformed Cheerleader
By Jonica

Prologue

We came to win
oh yea thats right
Were #1
Purple Gold and White
Tigers Live on top
were a team
that Cant be stopped!!!


Hi!  My name is Joni.  If you haven’t guessed yet, I used to be a cheerleader.  Of course I never cheered for LSU, but THAT was my dream!  I did make it to college and I did cheer, but that is for later in the story!  This tale is about how I became a top flight wrestler in a little organization full of top flight wrestlers!  I might have been loved.  I might have been hated.  But one thing for sure…I left an impression! 

Are you wondering why I use so many exclamation points?!?!  Because I’m a cheerleader, silly!  Or I used to be….

As with any story there has to be a starting point.  Of course this one does.  It all started my senior year in high school.  I had been cheering for almost eight years by this time, and truth be told I didn’t know much else.  I was so focused on cheering the teams on to victory, I forgot about all that studying and book learning I was supposed to be doing to.  I was one of those lucky few who got to be a senior twice!  You know what that means…right?!?!  Of course you do! 

TWO PROMS!!!! 

Well, needless to say, mommy and daddy weren’t very happy about my progress in school, but I did get an extra year to hone my cheerleading.  After working with a tutor three hours following each cheer practice, I managed to work my way up to a 2.1 grade point average (amazing, right?!?!  I know!!!), and they let me graduate!  From there I went on to (unfortunately not LSU) Southeast Iberia Parish Community College, where I was all conference cheer squad each year for four years in a row!

The ‘biters are the best,
So much better than the rest,
Scoring, tackling passing as well,
We’re the best cant you tell?!?!


SIPCC even let me graduate with an associate’s degree in home economics after those four years.  The cheer coach hated to see me go, but alas, I did.  Then it was into the real world.  I would say my parents were proud, but I can’t find them.  Last I heard…the day I started SIPCC…they were sailing around the world with all the money from my LSU trust fund (Thank goodness for federal financial aid!).  I did get a post card from the Palau Islands the Christmas of my second sophomore year!

Anywho…sorry, got sidetracked…this is the story of how I became a wrestler!  After college, I couldn’t find a job.  I mean….who wouldn’t want to hire a former cheerleader with an AS degree in Home Ec?  I know, right?!?!  But that was the problem.  There wasn’t anything available.  I looked and I searched, but nothing came open.  One day I sat down on a park bench and cried.  The next thing I know, this kind man named Tony sat next to me and tried to cheer me up.  He had a weird accent…kind of hillbilly-ish, but with a nasally Yankee twang.  Does that make sense?  To my surprise, he put his hand on my thigh and offered me a job!  I didn’t know at the time what the job was, but how bad could it be?  I mean….he made me feel so good about myself!  He told me how pretty I am…how I could be making plenty of money to buy shoes and clothes and tv’s and an iPad and maybe even a Mustang!  OMG!  A MUSTANG!  Can’t you just see me driving a new Mustang?!?! 

O!

M!

G!

OMG!!!

Tony made me feel so good about myself.  He caressed my thigh until I stopped crying and offered to give me a foot massage!  My feet did hurt.  I had been wearing Western boots without socks all day (I looked great in my halter top and Daisy Dukes!  I really don’t understand why I couldn’t get a job.  Maybe if I had worn my cowgirl hat!  Maybe…), so how could I refuse! 

Tony had an office in the back of this neat place downtown!  He even had a leather sofa in there…next to the hot tub!  There is one thing I never could figure out about his office, though.  He had one big shiny brass pole holding up the ceiling.  One pole!  Holding up the WHOLE ceiling!  WOW!  That had to be a strong pole!  I would have been mad at my contractor though.  It was right in front of his desk…it had to be a distraction. 

One thing about cheerleaders…former or current…you have to be good dancers.  So for the next four years, I got to dance and cheer more!  Can you believe it?!?!  I go to CHEER more!  Well, it wasn’t the kind of cheering you would see on Saturday night in Death Valley (well…maybe ya could!), but I did get to keep performing.  AND Tony was right!  I made a whole bunch of money!  One night…this little shiny strapless top I was wearing slipped a little….I’ll go ahead and say it…I accidentally flashed the crowd!  It was embarrassing, at first, but these guys started pelting me with money!  I thought it was trash, but it turns out they were throwing wadded up balls of money at me!  Mostly one dollar bills…there were a few fives and a couple tens and twenties in there…but even those add up after awhile!  The next few nights I experimented (just like I learned to do in baking class!!) a little.  I’d let my top slip and see if they reacted the same way!  They did!!  Then….OMG!!!…one night it slipped all the way to the stage!  Tony had to send in security because all these guys rushed the stage wanting to hand me money!  I didn’t protest, but it did kinda scare me when one guy pulled off my four-inch heel and took off running with it!

Open the barn doors who do you hear!
 Elvis Presley doing a cheer
 Firecracker firecracker boom boom boom
 Firecracker firecracker boom boom boom
 The boys got the muscle
 The couches got the brains
 The cheerleaders got the sprit
 That’s why we won the game!!!

After the first year or so, I got pretty comfortable dancing for money.  I guess I grew up a little and figured out what it was all about.  After the second year, I started getting bored with it.  After the third, I began wanting to settle down.  Then…after the fourth…I wanted something new.  Tony was right.  I made tons of money…more than many lawyers in town.  Maybe more than a lot of doctors, but now I saw that look in those men’s eyes when I would take my clothes off.  I knew what I had become.  This cheering wasn’t much fun anymore.  Many mornings I would wake up crying.  I can’t explain why.  I would think of my mommy and daddy…off somewhere sailing the world (I still told myself that…even though a year ago last Christmas I got a letter from some unpronounceable place saying there had been a storm and my parents weren’t coming home).  I kept saying to myself I would get another postcard from some exotic place.  One never came.

I won’t admit to being depressed.  Cheerleaders don’t get the blues.  However, I was in a funk.  Tony still liked to give foot massages, but he ran hot and cold on my feet.  I guess some of the newer performers had cuter toes.  However, he still helped me invest my money, and believe it or not, I had a brand new Mustang!  A convertible yellow one!  A GT too! 

Uh oh…sorry…got sidetracked again…this is about my career as a wrestler.  One night Tony decided to have mud wrestling in his club.  I would say the rest is history, but I am too young for history!  However, I learned I have am what you would call ‘a natural’ at mud wrestling!  Tony called me his little ‘wrestling savant’…whatever that means!  It didn’t matter that I am only 5’2 and only weigh 105 lbs!  I was a vicious lil shit…as one opponent called me after I bit her on the thong!  I graduated from mud wrestling to oil and jello wrestling.  I even took on a few guys and beat a few of them!  My funk was gone, and I began having fun again!!! 

We say hop and you say scotch!!!
HOP……


After about two years of wrestling on the club circuit I got so good that one night this woman came in to watch me tussle!  Turns out she was a talent scout from a major wrestling production company!  Now, you can say the rest is history!  Tony helped me negotiate…he somehow got a cut…and I was signed as a new talent for the company!  I couldn’t believe how much they told me I could make the first year!  I also didn’t believe how tough it would be, even though they told me up front.  Pro wrestling is faked, I kept telling myself.  Mud and oil wrestling is real….or more so than the stuff you see on television and Youtube.  How tough could this stuff me?  I took some lessons from a friend of Tony’s, and after two months of training, I was ready for my debut. 

Here is where the story really begins.

Chapter One

“Joni, this isn’t the fake stuff you are used to.”  The woman, who recruited me, says in a concerned tone.  “You could get hurt.  Are you sure you are ready for this?”

Her name is Lorie.  She is in her early 40s, and she used to be a wrestler.  She won’t tell me why she retired.  When I ask she smiles and limps away.  I don’t understand it. 

“Joni, have you ever seen one of these matches?”  Tony interjects.  “I’ve been trying to get you to watch, but you are more interesting in Scooby Doo.”  Lorie looks aghast at this realization, but I smile and say, “Of course I have!”  (Of course I have been watching Scooby Doo), but I am not worried.  I have been winning messy wresting matches for so long, I am pretty sure I know how to handle myself.  Plus I have been training so hard!  I am in good shape, plus I used to be a cheerleader!  Plus I like the word ‘plus.’  That has to be a plus. 

“Joni, this is different than anything you have ever done.  Please take it seriously.”  Lorie says then limps from the room with a concerned look on her face, but I am not scared.  I am ready.  Tony and I spend the next few minutes sitting in silence….me contemplating what life would be like with Freddy as a life partner…tooling all over the place in the Mystery Machine solving ghost mysteries and smoking weed….while Tony massages my feet.  Suddenly there is a knock on the door and an announcement, “Five minutes.”

Tony helps me with my socks and cute lil white boots with purple and gold laces…what else would you expect.  I look in the mirror, and I have to smile!  Not much has changed!  I am in as good of shape today as I was when I was cheering.  I look spectacular in my gold sports bra…with cute lil tiger paw prints on the cups…and purple bikini cut boy shorts!  My long light brown hair pulled back in a tight braid.  This is gonna be fun, I tell myself. 

Those five minutes seem to drag on and on, so in the mean time I warm up by stretching and jogging in place.  I try some shadow boxing but I accidentally punch the wall.  I will never make it as a boxer…I lament while shaking my hand.  Then there is another knock on the door and Lorie’s voice says, “It’s time.”  We open the door and walk toward the small, but well-lit and boisterous arena.  As I step through the curtains, the crowd erupts in cheers, and for the first time, I realize I am so nervous even my armpits are soaking wet.  I never got this anxious before getting in an oil pit. 

I try to ignore the crowd…they hurl catcalls and insults that would make a sailor blush…no…these would make sailors beat the hell outta them in my club!  The service boys actually had some manners.  Focusing on the ring doesn’t help my sudden case of the nerves.  This isn’t a stage with a dancing pole on it…this is a four-sided ring where I will be locked in mortal combat with another woman.  Well…being a little melodramatic here…not ‘mortal’ combat, but you know what I mean!

The aisle seems to go on forever, but we do eventually get to the ring.  I look around like I am lost, and Lorie has to give me a little shove to nudge me up the steps.  I am too short to climb between the top and middle ropes, so I stoop and slip between the middle and bottom ones.  The mat feels squishy under my boots, and it takes me a moment to get used to the bouncy spring underneath, but I eventually figure it out.  I am not alone in the ring either.  There are two guys there.  One is wearing a tuxedo…holding a microphone, and the other a black and white striped shirt with black pants.  He looks official…for some reason.  Anywho, while I am trying to figure out their purpose, this guy in the tux starts yelling into his mic. 

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!  TONIGHT WE ARE WITNESSING A DEBUT!  HAILING FROM THE GREAT STATE OF LOUISIANA….STANDING AND WEIGHING IN AT A COMPACT 5’2 AND 105 LBS….LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, IT IS MY DISTINCT PLEASURE TO INTRODUCE TO YOU…THE NEWEST PHENOMENON….THE CAJUN PRINCESS…..JONI!!!”

Wtf?  Princess?  No one has called me ‘princess’ since my father.  He needs to tone it back a little.  Before I can protest, though, the Canadian National Anthem suddenly echoes around the small arena and the crowd really erupts in jeers and screams. 

“NOW LADIES AND GENTLEMENT, JONI’S OPPONENT FOR THE NIGHT IS NO STRANGER TO THIS RING.  AS A MATTER OF FACT…YOU REMEMBER LAST WEEK SHE LOST HER PAPERWEIGHT TITLE ON THESE VERY MATS!  ALL THE WAY FROM CANADA….IT IS MY PLEASURE TO INTRODUCE THE CANADIAN CRIPPLER…..MARIE….BEEEEEEE!!!!”

Wtf is a Marie B?  All I can see is a blonde ponytail.  Is she on her knees?  Paperweight champion?  Wtf is that?!?!

Then I see why.

She walks up the steps.  I almost walk across the ring to offer her another step stool.  Very rarely am I the tallest person in the mud pit.  I am shocked when I see I am the tallest person in a sports bra and boy shorts in this ring.  It’s true.  I am.  Marie B should probably change her name to MaWEE Bee.  She is tiny.  She might be 4’9.  Might be.  She can’t weight more than 95 lbs.  100 lbs, if she ate a hotdog.  As a matter of fact, I turn to Tony and almost begin to tell him to run to Little Caesar’s, but Lorie says something about Marie being ‘a former gymnast.’  I turn to look at her and find a pair of the coldest, icy blue eyes I have ever seen locked on me!

Mawee Bee might be small, but she can put on a ‘Grrr’ look like no other!  Her red sports bra and matching boy shorts with lil while maple leaves outfit seems a little intimidating too, but I am sure it’s a gimmick.  Maybe I should have worn a skull and crossbones or something…

The guy in the black and white shirt finally moves from his corner and walks up to me.  I almost slug him when he puts his hands on my waist, but then I realize he his just looking for weapons.  That’s funny because I won’t need one against the midget.  Finally, he does the same thing to Mawee, but she does slap his hands away.  I almost laugh when he threatens to disqualify her.  If I get this win that easily then Tony and I can go get that Little Caesar’s I am suddenly craving.

The guy in the black and white shirt is introduced as ‘the referee,’ and I blush when I realize they had those in almost every sport I cheered for over the years.  I guess I have seen those black and white shirts before.  He makes a motion with his arm and a loud “DONG!!” resonates around the small arena.  I stand stock-still.  We never started a mud wrestling match this way.  I look down at Tony and Lorie.  Lorie looks concerned and Tony is pointing wildly at something in the ring!  I guess maybe I should pay attention, but between my ADD and the vibrating of the ring, I can’t focus.  Then it occurs to me….THE DAMN RING IS VIBRATING!!

I look up and see a flash of bare tummy and red shorts just as Mawee’s tiny body slams across mine.  I fall back into my corner with her across my chest.  The wind leaves my lungs with a whoosh from the impact with her tiny body and the turnbuckles slamming into my back!

Dropping to my knees as my blonde opponent rolls away, I drop to all fours and wonder what the hell just happen.  I don’t get much time to ponder it, though.  A tiny boot slams into the side of my head with such force that it knocks me through the ropes onto the ring apron.  Now on my back, I roll down to the arena floor and shake my head.  Fog and cobwebs cloud my vision and I try to clear it as quickly as I can, but again, Mawee has other plans. 

I didn’t even realize she got out of the ring until she dropkicks me from behind!  I am kinda short too.  The kick slams me throat first into the ring apron.  Maybe I shoulda listened to Lorie when she said this isn’t like mud wrestling!  It really isn’t!

I fall onto my back. The dirty arena floor is sticky with spilled soft drinks, beer, and popcorn, but I don’t have to worry about it long.  A tug of my hair tells me Marie hasn’t left.  A quick tug…a thrust…a roll…and I am back in the ring, rolling to a stop in the middle.  What was it that announcer guy said?  She lost her title?  Oh shit!  She was a champion?  Key words being ‘champion’ and most importantly ‘WAS!’ 

OH SHIT!!!

Just my luck.  She’s pissed off.

On my back with the big overhead light beating down on me, I suddenly see the tiny blonde hovering over me.  Even through the lights I can see those angry, ice blue eyes.  I also see her lift her foot and stomp down at my forehead. 

Over the years, I have been called a lot of things:  Silly, goofy, ignorant, dumb, stupid, arrogant, twit, and other things I can’t mention here, but two things I am not:  a fool nor a coward.  Tony says I would charge headfirst into a brick wall.  He also says he would feel sorry for the wall if I did. 

I don’t plan on laying here and letting this Canadian midget kick my brains out.  I suddenly grab her foot with both hands and fold my knees upwards.  Pushing with my arms, I roll onto my side and kick out with both of my feet at her balancing leg.  I think this whole motion took her by surprise.  She cursed me in two different languages as she fell off balance and crashed to the mat.

Since we have established I am no fool, I keep my hands gripped on her foot and continue rolling to my knees.  I pull her knee toward her chest and in a flash I try to pin her body under mine.  Now this is an old mud-wrestling trick, and it usually works!  I fall across her chest with her leg pinned between us.  My hands go to her shoulders.  The referee guy drops to his knee and slaps the mat once…twice…but then Marie shoves with her trapped leg…showing a little strength and stamina…and rolls me onto my side.  I roll to the ropes and grab the bottom one to pull myself up.  Just as I get to my feet, Mawee is already running at me.

Fortunately, I have seen this before.  As she leaves her feet for the cross body splash, I drop to my knees and she sails over my head into the ropes.  She again curses me in two languages, but I am already getting to my feet.  The little gymnast shows her flexibility by grabbing the middle rope and pulling herself up.

Of the things I have been called over the years, the one that is closest to the truth is probably, ‘bitch.’  I am tired of being this little twerp’s (a name usually reserved for me) personal piñata.  As she pulls herself up, I raise my right foot and kick her between the shoulder blades as hard as I can.  She drops to the floor on her chest and rolls from side to side…her right arm behind her back trying to soothe the pain.

It’s then that I become aware of the crowd.  They are cheering for me!  Fuck!  I am leading cheers again!  This shit is fun!


Get me a B!
Give me a E!
Give me a S
Give me a T
What does that spell?
BEST!
We are the best!
The other team thinks well give them a rest!


Cheerleaders are performers…athletes and performers.  We love to have fun!  We are there for the purpose of making sure everyone is having fun!  We play to the crowd.  That is exactly what I do here!  I hop around and prance.  Dancing like I did on the stage.  Too bad there isn’t a pole for me to use.  I toss my head back and thrust my hips forward.  I close my eyes then the crowd goes insane as I do two back handsprings across the ring!
 
Everyone but Tony, that is.

He is busy looking worried and pointing at something behind me.  Wtf?  I’m winning Tony!  I smile sweetly, but it doesn’t seem to faze him.  Wtf? I think again.  Then it occurs to me the crowd isn’t cheering anymore.

I drop to my knees as sharp pain shoots through my kidneys…up my spine…to the top of my head.  Then I fall forward onto my face.  Marie’s tiny body falls across my slightly larger one and my left arm suddenly goes numb after she clamps her gymnast’s thighs around it.  Her hands reach around my face…still stunned from the stomp to the kidney’s, I can’t offer much resistance.  She tightens the move by leaning back slightly…pulling my head, then neck, and finally my chest and shoulders off the mat Fiery pain wrenches through my cheek, neck, shoulders, and trapped arm.  I’ve seen this hold before.  Y instructor showed me the cross-face crippler.  It hurts worse now. 

I close my eyes and try to focus on everything but the pain.  I feel her hands slip a little and stop when they get to my nose.  She readjusts them so that the back of her hand and her knuckles are against my lips.  I try to squeal, but she pulls harder and shuts off the sound in my throat.  My tiny boots pound the mat relentlessly!  I can’t use my free arm because moving it would give her even more leverage.  I am trapped…I don’t know a way out of this.  Maybe I should have paid more attention in wrestling lessons. 

“Cajun princess?  More like Louisiana trailer trash.”  For the first time all match, Marie starts speaks (well…except for cursing me in two languages).  “I am going to make you wish you were still swimming in the bayou, bitch.”  I almost tearfully tell her that I really wish I was still swimming in the bayou right now…anything but this…but suddenly my face slams against the mat, and 95 lbs of weight get off me.

Did I submit? 

I don’t think I did.  Did I?

Marie answers that question for me.  Her hand grabs my hair…even with the referee dude telling her to let it go…and she pulls me to my knees.  Then she makes me get to my feet.  Before I can take a step, her tiny fist slams into my tummy so hard that I double over.

“Ommmmppppphhhhhh!!!” I grunt and almost go to my knees, but her hands roughly pull me back up.  I won’t lie.  My back is still on fire from the cross-face crippler.  She had me beat.  I think she knows it too.  Maybe I can make something out of this mess.

Just as that thought crosses my mind, she whips me into the corner and I crash into the turnbuckles with a thud.

“Ohhhhh….” I moan pitifully and reach for the top ropes to pull myself up.  I need to think.  I also need to do it quickly because she is running at me from the far corner.  She leaves her feet once again to crush me in the corner with what will almost certainly be the final blow of the match.  There is no way I can come back if that lands.  So I do the one thing I feel will work (besides running and crying, that is).  I lift my foot straight out in front of me and let her run cheek first into it. 

The only person more shocked in the entire arena is me!  Even I can’t believe that actually worked!  Marie falls onto her back and lays still.  I mean it.  She does not move.  Her eyes don’t even flutter. 

Great job!
Super well done!
Come on ‘biters!
Let’s score another one!

I don’t plan on making the same mistake twice.  My back can’t take another cross-face crippler.  I use the ropes like a ladder and climb to the second rope.  The crowd suddenly erupts again when they realize the Canadian Crippler is about to lose to a rookie in her debut!  However, I am still a cheerleader and I can’t resist raising my hands over my head and doing a victory pose!  Cheerleaders are also attention whores!  I flex my body and squat down.  With every ounce of energy I can find, I explode upward and jump off the middle rope.  My body flashes through the air as I reach the summit and start the descent.  Stretching all 5’2” of my body to crash down on the smaller girl, I drop like a rock….a smile crossing my lips as I fall.  That smile grows even wider as I think of my first victory celebration.  Then….

“UMMMPPPPHHHHHH!!!!!!”

Flashes erupt in front of my eyes and my spine feels like it’s about to pop through my back.  I look down and see I am still about three feet off the mat but I am still speared by Marie’s tiny feet and gymnast legs.  Then I topple to the mat, curled in a ball, holding my belly.  I don’t get much of a respite, however, when Marie sinks her tiny fingers into my hair and pulls me to my feet again.  Gasping for air, sweat runs down my body.  My gold sports bra soaked and clinging tightly to my body.  I feel the cool air when she whips me into off the ropes.  I bounce and recoil back across the ring.  Marie does the same thing, but from the opposite side.  She ducks under my arm as I desperately try a clothesline, then blade my body to fall against the ropes on the other side.  I recoil off and see the blonde come off the far side.  This time she doesn’t pass me.  She actually grabs for my head as she passes, hooks her arm around my throat, and in one of the most amazing moves I have ever seen, she twists and drops onto her feet behind me.  My body is now bent backwards at a nearly 90-degree angle.  She lifts her knee into the middle of my back twice, knocking the wind out of me and forcing me off balance even more.  She follows that by dropping to her butt and slamming the back of my head and shoulders off the mat with such force I bounce.  The blow nearly knocks me unconscious.

It doesn’t take Marie much effort to pull me up this time.  I sway and rock in a nearly black fog when as she pushes me back first into the corner.  I offer no resistance when she hooks my arms over the top rope to hold me up.  I vaguely remember her strolling to the far corner and laughing at me.  I see her body flash across the ring at a dead run…do a cartwheel, and catch my head between her thighs…showing her gymnast’s grace.  I remember the sensation of being pulled forward, and I remember a slap of flesh when my back hits the mat.  After that I remember nothing…..

…..nothing at all until I open my eyes and see that referee dude, Tony, and Lorie standing over me.  I blink my eyes a few times and realize I am still in the ring!

“Oh crap!  She’s awake!  Are you okay?!?!”

I want to scream, ‘of course I am not okay!  I just lost to a fucking hobbit!’  But I hold my tongue.  Only because I can’t talk at the moment.  After a little while, I do get to my feet.  They have to catch me to keep me from falling.  I don’t remember the walk from the ring to locker room.

“Joni.  The crowd loved you.  You have to wrestle again!”

I stare blankly at Lorie as she talks.

“You almost won.  If you hadn’t celebrated early, you would have.”

Oddly, I can’t agree right now.

“With some training you can be great.  Watch this!”

Lorie presses a button on her laptop and up pops a recorded interview with Marie.  This had to be right after our match.  The interviewer is going on and on about how tough it was for Marie and how shocked a rookie pushed a wily veteran to the limit.  Marie, however, isn’t in a mood to talk about me in good terms though. 

“Fuck her….white trash bitch better never get in the ring with me again!….”fucking kill her next time….”

She even pulls the mic out of the interviewer’s hand and tosses it on the floor.  She looks into the camera and says some rather unsavory things that I am pretty sure are directed at me.  After that she storms off.

“Joni.  We need some fresh blood around here.  The promotion is getting stale.  I’m telling you…the crowd loved you….you could truly be a superstar….”

Lorie’s voice trails off into my thoughts.  The crowd did seem to like me.  The pay is awesome.  The word ‘superstar’ fills me mind.

To The G!
   To The O!
   Yell Go, Go!

« Last Edit: April 19, 2013, 12:24:58 AM by Jonica »
Bad (Bad) Blood (Blood)
The bitch is in her smile.
The lie is on her lips,
Such an evil child.

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Offline T aka Tony

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Re: Confessions of a Reformed Cheerleader
« Reply #1 on: April 19, 2013, 02:30:11 AM »
Jonica you put a cunja on me n you make me bracque!

Great writing!!!

Mo laimm twa!

Tony
Cheers!

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Offline SunnyB

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Re: Confessions of a Reformed Cheerleader
« Reply #2 on: April 19, 2013, 09:14:00 AM »
Oh, sassy, sexy tongue-in-cheek writing ... and losing to a 'hobbit' ... witty!  ;D :D
Proudly butch and living as a 'man'. In this catfight fantasy there are no losers, and in the end all should be winners!

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Offline peccavi

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Re: Confessions of a Reformed Cheerleader
« Reply #3 on: April 19, 2013, 09:46:22 AM »
Joni
the day you reform will be the day Cassie stops saying "like"and 'totally".

A lot of fun and I particularly liked MaWEE Bee's attitude.

Jenn
Blondes are cool Brunettes are Hot!!

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Offline Marie B.

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Re: Confessions of a Reformed Cheerleader
« Reply #4 on: April 19, 2013, 05:24:48 PM »
Over the years, I have been called a lot of things:  Silly, goofy, ignorant, dumb, stupid, arrogant, twit, and other things I can’t mention here....

Gosh, Joni! The first time you ever write about a truly unintelligent wrestler.....and you choose yourself as the model! That's what I call type-casting. :D

 

“Fuck her….white trash bitch better never get in the ring with me again!….”fucking kill her next time….”

Oh, man. Get outta my head! You've even got my speech patterns down pat!



Wonderful work, Joni. I'm honored to be in your story. No one writes better than you.

Fortunately, no one fights better than me. ;D




Marie


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Offline Mongoose750

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Re: Confessions of a Reformed Cheerleader
« Reply #5 on: April 20, 2013, 08:31:16 AM »
Yes, as SunnyB said, very witty. I had to restrain myself a few times at work to keep from laughing when I was reading it (no, I didn't cruise the site there, I printed the story and took it with me). My only deal was neither you nor Marie in the story displayed your hallmark, wrestling barefooted.
It's great to see you churning out stories again. Now if someone could talk Marie into doing some more. . .

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Offline Kayla

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Re: Confessions of a Reformed Cheerleader
« Reply #6 on: April 20, 2013, 11:14:58 AM »
Tee hee! Up against Mawhee Bee, at her little bitchy best - great characterization & action!  :D ;D But maybe Mawhee B is forgetting, she's not invincible ... LOL!  ::) ;)

Hugs
Kayla
Naughty - but oh, so NICE! :-)

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Offline Jonica

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    • A Dark And Frightening World
Re: Confessions of a Reformed Cheerleader
« Reply #7 on: April 21, 2013, 06:08:12 PM »
Thanks to everyone for the great comments!  Mawee Bee makes a fascinating subject, doesn't she?  Chapter Two should be along shortly.  Look for more idiocy, lunacy, and downright stupidity in it!

:D

*hugs*

J
xoxo
Bad (Bad) Blood (Blood)
The bitch is in her smile.
The lie is on her lips,
Such an evil child.

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Offline Laurie Breeze

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Re: Confessions of a Reformed Cheerleader
« Reply #8 on: April 22, 2013, 12:07:59 AM »
I was lucky to be able to read a sneak preview of this story 'n Joni already knows how much I loved it! Now everybody knows. I LOVED IT!

This is gonna be a GREAT series, I can't wait for the next part!

I won't say anything nasty about MaWee Bee, even though she always finds something to say about me....usually about my lack of height. That's funny since she's one of the very few at FCF who has to stand on her tiptoes to look me in the eye! ;)  I'll just say that I really hope she doesn't get a swelled head now. She'll look like a blonde Canadian bobble-head. Oops,okay, maybe that was just a little nasty. My bad.

Great story, Joni! If I shake my pom-poms at ya, do you think that might inspire you to write the next chapter faster? Just askin'!

:-* :-* :-*

hugggzzz 'n xoxoxo

~L~
We're on a circuit of an Indian dream
We don't get old, we just get younger
When we're flying down the highway
Riding in our Indian Cars

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Offline Jonica

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Re: Confessions of a Reformed Cheerleader
« Reply #9 on: May 01, 2013, 07:14:14 PM »
“Get up and come over here!”

I sigh and take a deep breath, “I can’t….”

“Bullshit!  I said get up and get over here!”

“Ugghhhhh…I really can’t.”  Grimacing, “My back hurts!”

“It will hurt a lot more if you don’t get the fuck up and get your stupid ass over here!”

I hang my head, but I don’t wait for another reply.  I work my legs under me and get to my feet….nearly falling…but getting my balance.  I stand as erect as I can, but my back really does hurt.  Of course it hurts!  Crazy bitch has slammed me on it about a hundred damn times!

Grrr!!!

I walk across the wrestling ring to my personal coach and trainer.  Mary has been retired for a couple years, but she still looks like she could step between the ropes and win titles.  I know she could take me apart….she’s proven it on an almost daily basis for the last month and a half.  

I stand in front of her and look slightly up…she’s about two inches taller, and twenty pounds heavier.  She’s seen many battles, and her body shows the scars.  However, she has won most of them.

“Can we stop for the day?”  I ask hopefully.  I try to look as tired as possible, but I already know the answer.

“No.  No we cannot.  I have to have you ready by this time next month and…sadly…you are a year away from being near ready.  Now, shut up and let’s do the drill again!”

I sigh and walk to the corner…then I run out and jump into the air and land on my back.  We have been doing this for almost five hours.  My whole body hurts.  I have to learn how to fall…to fall without hurting myself or anyone else.  But I have to wonder if there really is a way to fall without hurting yourself.  I mean, really?  Maybe you just do it so many times you get immune to pain.

That time didn’t hurt so badly.  Maybe I did it right!

“Again!”

Maybe not….

Chapter Two (A Hot Mess)

“She isn’t ready.”  Mary firmly states.  Her eyes locked on Lorie’s across the conference table.  “No where near ready.”

I can sense a great deal of tension between the two women.  I don’t think they much like each other.  However, Lorie is the president, and Mary an employee.

“She has to be ready, Mary.  It has been four months.  They are clamoring for her! Her debut is still the most talked about experience since our last match!”

Their last match?  Interesting.

“Lorie, she is not ready.  She is going to get hurt…or hurt someone else.  I won’t sign off on this.  You can’t make me.”

“Fuck you Mary!”  Lorie leaps to her feet and points her finger in Mary’s face.  “She is ready!  She has to be!  Next Friday night you will open the damn curtains and lead her to the fucking ring!”

My mouth drops open because I never thought Mary would stand being talked to this way.  I nod my head when I learn I am right.  Mary literally jumps out of her chair and chest bumps Lorie.  “I will take you apart if you don’t get out of my face!  How dare YOU!”  Her voice rises with each word.  

“Catfight!” Tony whispers from beside me then laughs.  I bite my lip and shrug.

There is no catfight, though.  The others in the room quickly separate the two women.  As Mary straightens her blouse, she hisses, “I beat you last time and I will again if you talk to me like that.”

Lorie has calmed by this time and she responds with, “Friday.  Her next match is Friday.”

With that she regains her composure and stalks out of the room.

Mary slams her hands on the table and sits down heavily.  Fuming for a few minutes until you can visibly see her mood change.  “I guess your next match is a week from Friday,” she says softly.

__________________________________________________


The next week is a whirlwind of activity as I prepare for what Mary calls my ‘real debut.’  She says I never had a chance against Marie, even though I got in some lucky moves.  “Marie would take you apart in a rematch right now.  Probably would several years down the road.”  I roll my eyes at Mary’s vote of confidence.

I do see Marie from time to time.  I was always told how wrestlers went at each other in the ring, but were friends outside.  Marie apparently didn’t get that memo.  When she saw me training in the gym she hit the ring like a whirlwind and chased me out with a chair.  

Luckily, Mary was there to keep her from killing me.  I might have been able to out run her…if I hadn’t gotten tangled in the ropes and fell on my head.  

Ouch!

The second time she saw me, she rushed the ring and actually got me.  She must have forgot how to wrestle.  She also forgot to put on clothes (I later learned she was taking a shower when I came in.  A troublemaker named Kayla told her I was in the ring).  Anywho, a very angry…and very naked Mawee stormed the ring and caught me.  As I said, she must have forgot how to wrestle, because she was throwing punches!

Imagine the look on my face when I was dragged to my butt from behind!  My ponytail held tight in a naked girl’s hands.  She’s dripping wet with shampoo in her hair!  Her first punch catches me on the chin.  The second in the throat.  The third on the ear.  I don’t remember four through twenty-five.  I woke up with Mary holding smelling salts under my nose!  

After that, Lorie and Mary decided that Marie and I should not schedule gym times on the same days.  I thought that was a pretty good idea.  

__________________________________________________________


Friday finally came and I thought I was ready.  Sitting in the dressing room…already in my wrestling attire: a purple sports bra with purple spandex boy shorts and gold high top Cons with purple laces.  For a final touch, I used black grease paint to make little marks like football players under my eyes.  I have no idea why I did this, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Yep.  I’m ready.

“You’re not ready, but here we are.”  Of course Mary is always here to pull me back to earth.  A girl has to stay grounded, you know.

We all have our own little ways of dealing with nerves.  I guess giving lap dances is mine.  It also happens to be a good way to warm up.  I am pretty sure Tony didn’t mind.  Mary did, however.  She seemed aghast when she walked in on us.  

Anywho, she nodded that it’s time to head to the ring.  She walks with a look of disgust that actually hurts my feelings a little.  I know I am not the best student she’s had.  I also know I am not the easiest person to get along with.  But I have been training hard.  Maybe she is being too harsh on me.  I have tried to soak in all the knowledge she is teaching.  It’s not my fault if my ADD gets in the way!  Boo!  She hasn’t so much as paid me a compliment.  Seems I have done nothing right.  As I walk into the dark arena, a feeling of sadness washes over me.  I am about to embarrass myself.  I am not ready.

At that very moment it occurs to me….no one has mentioned my opponent.

_____________________________________________________________

By the time I wonder who my opponent is, I have already heard the announcement and I didn’t even pay attention to her name.  I almost ask Mary as we walk down the aisle, but she would probably ridicule me more.  How can someone who doesn’t even know who her opponent is be ready for a match?

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!  GRACING OUR RING FOR THE SECOND TIME!  PLEASE WELCOME THE NEWEST PHENOM!  A LEGEND IN THE MAKING!  PERHAPS THE NEXT BEST THING TO COME FROM THE GREAT STATE OF LOUISIANA!  THE CAJUN QUEEN HERSELF!  GIVE IT UP FOR THE BAYOU BEAUTY!  CHEERLEADER JONI!!

Oh well, too late to worry about that stuff.  I have business to attend to!

Jump around
Scream and shout
Joni spirit, is what it’s all about


I literally hop and skip down the aisle all the way to the ring.  Tony and Mary are panting by the time they finally catch up to me, but I am already on the ring apron blowing kisses and waving at the boisterous audience.  Smiling wide and showing all my perfect teeth…I certainly look more confident than I feel.  

Climbing into the ring, I grab the ropes and stretch my shoulders.  The crowd actually on it’s feet.  It seems they might have come to see me.  Lorie called me the ‘next superstar,’ and the announcer sure did his part to play that up.  Maybe I might make it after all.  Anyway, here I am.  Ready or not world…here I come!

The roar of the crowd finally subsides and I turn to look for my opponent.  I see her looking at me with total contempt and disdain.  However, I try to stay excited and keep the crowd into it, so I raise my hands and hop up on the bottom rope and hold my hands high over my head.  I shout:

“GIVE ME A J!”

To my shock…the crowd replies:  “J!”

I giggle when I see Mary’s cheeks flare red, “GIVE ME AN O!!”

“O!”

“GIVE ME A N!!!"

“N!”

"GIVE ME AN I!!”

“I!”

Smiling at the crowd and finally hopping down off the ropes, “WHAT’S THAT SPELL?”

I don’t get an answer.  My opponent’s shoulder slams into my back so hard, I tumble from the ring onto the mats surrounding the outside.

_____________________________________________________________ 


“Why do I have to fight THAT?!?!”

A whiny, nasally voice echoes through the shockwaves in my head.  I look up to the ring and see blonde hair haloed by the light.  Mawee?  No.  It’s too big to be Mawee.  Besides, Mawee would  be standing on my throat by now.  I grab the apron and use it to pull myself to my feet.  The bell rings and the referee starts counting me out.  However, my opponent isn’t finished whining.  

“I don’t want to look at THAT…let alone touch THAT!”

I have seen her around.  She’s the ring leader of a group that calls themselves the Silk Stocking Tramps, or something like that.  I think her name is Heidi.  She’s really cute…in a spoiled, slutty kind of way, but from the way I have seen her treat everyone, she’s a total bitch!  I mean..look at her outfit?!?!  How the fuck can you wrestle in that?!?!  How?!?!

Heidi bounces around the ring wearing a slutty crimson one piece with the midsection bared.  It looks like silk.  I swear to gawd!  Silk!  What the fuck!  Silk!  Of course, she has on her trademark black stockings under that atrocity!  If there was ever someone they would make high-heeled wrestling boots for, it would be Heidi!  I am really shocked she isn’t wearing crimson high heels.  I mean it.  I am not joking.

I grab the ropes while she is whining and pointing. The poor ref already looks overwhelmed.  I pull onto the apron, but that is as far as I get.

“I can’t touch HER!”  Heidi whines….her voice really grating.  Then she touches me.  She grabs my hair and drops to her knees causing my throat to drop across the middle rope.  “AGGHHHH!!!!” I gasp and fall back to the floor.

“Back off Ms Foster!”  The referee yells and tries to corral the blonde back to her corner.

 “Shut uppppppp!!!”  

“One….two…..three…..”

The ref begins his count but I am not sure he’s counting me out or counting her to make her go to her corner.  I can still hear her though.

“Count faster!  Get to ten!  I will take a disqualification!  I don’t want to touch her!  She’s got dirty hands!”

Rubbing my throat, I get to my feet and this time I walk to the steps…climbing them and watching my opponent closer this time.
 
“I mean…look at HER!  She’s so……pitiful!”  Heidi’s head bobs while talking.  “She has to come from a poor family….those clothes!  Oh. My. GAWD!”  Pointing and bobbing her head at me as I get back in the ring.  “I mean….totally AWFUL!  I’m not touching her.  No way.”  The blonde crosses her arms and nods her head curtly to put an exclamation point on her last remark…a pout on her lips making her look like a towheaded child.  

Welp, the match is very early and I have already had just about enough of Heidi and her verbal jabs.  I step through the ropes while her back is too me and I drop back into the ropes.  Coming off, I run at her and jump leading with my feet.  Her head is still bobbing and her arms still crossed when my Cons hit her right between the shoulder blades..She pitches forward into the referee so hard the both nearly fall out of the ring.

The crowd erupts in wild torrents and catcalls when the blonde falls to the canvas and bounces.  

“HEYYYY!!!  Get her away from MEEEE!!!!”  Heidi literally squeals as she scoots across the ring on her tushie.  I give chase but she makes it to the ropes and the referee has no alternative but to stop me and make me go back to my corner.  Cursing myself for not being faster, I have no choice but to let the blonde get up.

“No FAIR!  Disqualify HER!  She CHEATED!!!”

Heidi gets to her feet, pleading with the ref to ring the bell.  She grabs his sleeve, imploring him to make me leave the ring.  I even think she has a tear on her cheek.

“She CHEATED!!!”  

Holy crap!  She just stamped her foot!

“Ms Foster!  Either leave the ring or wrestle!”  The referee finally declares.  Heidi starts to protest, but the ref raises his arm to call for the bell, and she huffs and puffs, but goes to her corner.

“I doooonnnnnnn’ttttt waaaannnntttt to touch HER!”  She whines but she moves out of the corner and starts circling the ropes….her eyes on me.  I will say this about Heidi.  She may whine and cry….A LOT, but she moves like an athlete.  One look at her and you can tell she is no pushover.  Her shoulders are wide like a (Gasp!) cheerleaders.  Her arms are tanned and toned from long days in the training room.  Her footfalls hardly make a sound on the mat and the ring doesn’t vibrate at all.  Her eyes belie her attitude.  I would never turn my back on this opponent.  If I did I would probably have to peel myself off the wall.  

I stalk with her in a tight circle and suddenly I lunge out with a move Mary showed me.  The old collar and elbow tie up.  That seems like a good place to start.  However, to my shock, Heidi squeals “Don’t touch ME!”…steps to the side and let’s my momentum carry me right into her oncoming thigh.  The blow knocks the wind from me, and as I double over, she grabs my hair and drags me face first into the mat.

THUDDDD!!!

The canvas burns as it scrapes across my nose and I gasp “fuckkkk!”  I blush when Heidi seems to laugh slightly, but then her arm slips around my neck and tightens.  Pulling my back to her chest as her leg slips across my body locking me against her.  “FUCKKK!”  I guess she doesn’t mind touching me now!

“I’m going to snap your filty little neck bitch!”  She whispers in my ear but she doesn’t try to break my neck.  Instead, she tries to choke me.  I gasp and squirm and slobber all over her…Okay, maybe I got a little melodramatic, but it’s worth it when the referee inspects the hold and yells, “Break it Foster!  One….two…..”  I pull away and roll toward the ropes.  My lungs burning from the choke.  

“It was totally LEGAL!  What the hell ref?!?!  You fucking her TOO?!?!”

Okay, that made me blush.  Who else is fucking the ref?  I wonder…..

I guess it doesn’t matter, however.  I grab the ropes and pull myself to my feet and see Heidi on hers arguing with the referee.  I rush at her again…remembering how well it worked for me last time.  I lower my head to go for a tackle and take an elbow right in the forehead.  Staggering back, her boot drives into my midsection.  Seeing stars and gasping for air. This is starting to remind me of the Mawee Bee match….

I roll onto my tummy and try to push myself to my hands and knees.  I am getting the hell beat out of me by a whiny, spoiled rich bitch who is most likely one of the federation’s biggest jobbers.  Maybe Mary was right.  I am not ready.  I glance in her direction, and see her looking at the floor shaking her head.  She’s rubbing her temples like she has a migraine.  I have that effect on people.

I don’t have much time to contemplate whether I am ready or not.  Heidi has apparently gotten over her phobia of touching me.  Her hand grips my ponytail and pulls me to my knees.  Once there, she unloads a hard knee right into my chest.  The blow knocks me backwards, but Heidi yanks on my hair to keep me upright.  Another knee to the chest, and then she lets me go, but I think it’s only because the referee has gotten to 8 on his 10 count.  However, I am not safe yet.  A cute crimson boot slams between my shoulder blades, knocking me to the canvas.

“Not so tough now are ya, baby?”  Heidi’s voice is no longer grating.  Now it is condescending.  This is the attitude I have always most associated with her.  The problem is, she usually attacks with her partners.  They have a bad habit of ganging up on their enemies.  The problem for me is Heidi apparently needs to partners to handle me.  She is kicking my ass pretty well on her own!

A hard tug and I am back on my knees.  A little yank and I am bent backwards.  One step and suddenly two powerful thighs clamp around my ears.  Next thing I know I am staring into the silky crimson crotch of my opponent’s outfit!  My nose about half an inch from her most intimate anatomical features!  I should have about a thousand thoughts racing through my brain, but the only thing I can think of at this moment is, I hope she is wearing panties.  

One step back and I am sitting on my heels.  I must look a sight!  I guess Mary was right. I am not ready, and Heidi is going to prove that in spades!  

The taller blonde…oh I forget to mention, Heidi really is bigger than me.  Unlike Mawee, Heidi looks like an Amazon next to me.  Well, she looks like one now….with me sitting on my heels, bent backwards, with her crotch in my face (Literally!  She squats and suddenly my nose sinks in about an inch!).  Heidi might be 5’4”….looks around 6’4” right now….and she weighs around 240 lbs.  Okay, not really.  She might weigh 120…maybe a few pounds less.  But that’s not the point!  She whines and cries, but this girl can wrestle!  She knows her stuff.  Okay, well maybe she doesn’t, but she looks like it against me!

WHAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!

Since I am so totally outclassed, I simply try to regain my composure and survive.  This isn’t going to be easy…considering I have my nose in my opponent’s ass…but I have to try.  I tell myself this will be my last match.  

(Ya know….odd but the thought to tap out never crosses my mind.  I guess I really am too dumb for this after all)

When I get out of this, I will make a beeline to the dressing room, pack, leave, and never come back.  I will grab Tony and just go.  I should have learned from the Marie episode, but I have always been hardheaded.  Mary was right.  Even if I was ready for this match, I would never be ready to be the superstar Lorie wants me to be.  Maybe I don’t have the talent to pull it off.  Maybe I don’t have the talent to do anything.  Maybe I am a hopeless cause.

Anywho, things go from back to worse.  Heidi tires of scissoring my nose into her butt crack, so she step back…freeing my head…but she drops to one knee and put my nose into an even worse place….her armpit.  My boobs point at the ceiling and she lowers my shoulders so that pain ripples through my arched back.  Her arm tightens and begins to cut off the flow of blood to my head.  I actually know this hold.  During one of my training sessions, Mary got mad at me and put me in this.  It’s called a Dragon Sleeper.  I took a nice long nap that afternoon.  Looks like I may be taking another one tonight.

Again, it never occurs to me to simply tap Heidi’s thigh.  I mean….it’s right there!  All I would have to do is tap.  The referee is standing in front of me saying something.  Looking back…I am pretty sure he is imploring me to submit.  However, I can’t hear anything he is saying.  That and the crowd noise have been drowned out by the roaring in my ears.  It also doesn’t help that one side of my head is mashed against Heidi’s boob and they other ear is being smashed by her upper arm.  One thing I can do now, though, is look into Heidi’s eyes.  I can’t hear a word she is saying, but she is talking to me.  Talking to me plenty.  I should probably happy I don’t know what she is saying, but I still have a pretty good idea what it is.  She is pretty much claiming ownership.  

I can’t say I am in much of a position to dispute that right now.

Heidi clamps down on the sides of my neck…further limiting the blood flow to my brain.  Mary has said on many occasions that I don’t have much blood flowing to my brain anyway, so this can’t be good.  My eyelids begin to flutter and my breath gets shallow.  I am past the point of panic.  My head feels lighter and lighter by the moment, and the ref grabs my wrist, lifts it, and lets my arm fall limply to my side.  He lifts it a second time and lets go, but this time I keep it up, but it starts slowly drooping…just like my eyes.  I can tell by the frantic look on his face, he is literally begging me to give up.  Somewhere in the deep, dark recesses of my brain…something tells me he is probably right.  I didn’t come here to get permanently damaged.  Something down there tells me to tap out before I black out.

Ha!  Almost unconscious and I can still make a rhyme!  One thing I always could do was cheer!  That’s one thing I am good at…motherfuckers!

 I lift my hand and reach toward Heidi’s thigh, but just as I begin to tap….she lets me go and I flop to the mat with my heels under my butt.  She let me go.  

Did I tap?  Is it over?  Did I pass out?

I don’t much think so.  I can still open my eyes, and Heidi is parading around the ring pointing and obviously mocking me!  Her fat ass even does a cheer!  What a bitch!

Pretty good moves, though…..

Anywho…I instantly hate her.

The match apparently isn’t over.  The ref is checking me and when I can understand what he is saying, he asks, “Do you want to continue?”


Hell no!  I don’t want to continue!  I want this nightmare to end!  But I nod my head up and down.  He steps back and when he does Heidi grabs my ankles and bends then 90 degrees then stomps on my tummy.  Following that, she drags me to the corner.  I don’t resist much.  I can’t.

A few more taunts…these I can hear…and she hooks her arms under my armpits and drags me to the turnbuckles.  She somehow manages to get my butt onto the second turnbuckle…then the top one…so that I am sitting on the top rope.  She steps up to the second one and locks my head under her arm.  I don’t know what she has planned, but it can’t be good.  All sorts of bad things can happen up here.  

I don’t want to fall.

Please, don’t let me fall.  

Maybe Heidi has some redeeming qualities.  She grabs the side of my shorts at the waistband and bunches them in her hand to keep me steady.  

She won’t let me fall.

So sweet….

The way her arm has my head trapped I am looking at the mat.  I feel her weight shift, but I am not worried.  She is holding onto to me.  Maybe she really is my friend.

So sweet….

Her muscles tense and tighten.  

My new friend is really straining to make sure I don’t fall.

She strains so hard to keep my from falling that my butt comes off the top turnbuckle.  

So sweet….

Then I realize what she is going to do!

Heidi is decidedly not my friend.

Fuck sweet!  This bitch is crazy!

She leans back to pull me into a suplex off the top rope and in a moment of panic I suddenly push my shoulder into her chest and shove with my feet.  I have to get off these ropes!

Next thing I know we are falling.  

SHIT!

One of two things will happen here.  She will drive the top of my head into the mat and make it pop like a balloon…or she will bend my head under and snap my neck.

Damn my fear!

Neither of those things happens, however.  For some reason,  she lets go of my head and when we land…I land on top of her.  I actually feel her breath rush from her lungs.  Because of the way she was holding me, her legs are up at a 90 degree angle and for some reason I grab them both under the knees and pull forward.  The force of the impact bounces me onto her chest and I lean forward putting all 107 lbs of me onto her shoulder and neck.  The referee drops to his knees in front of me and lifts his hand and slams it down once…..twice…..my hand grips Heidi’s trademark silk stockings and pulls her butt toward her head…..the ref’s hand falls a third time.  

The next thing I know he is standing and waving toward one side of the ring then he is patting me on the shoulder.  Heidi finally manages to kick me off her, but as she gets to her feet…the referee steps between us and yells something in my direction.

What did he say?

I’m so confused….

He grabs my wrist and pulls my arm over my head.  He shouts again….”WINNER!”

I look at him in utter amazement.  It doesn’t hit me until the announcer says over the PA:

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN….YOUR WINNER AT THE 13 MINUTE 32 SECOND MARK OF THE MATCH…..CHEERLEADER JONI THE CAJUN QUEEN!!!

My eyes nearly bulge out of my head and I keep my arm up even after the referee lets it go.  A feeling of joy that I can’t readily explain washes over me.  Tony and Mary are in the ring by now…Tony is dancing around like he won the lottery.  Mary is shaking her head in disbelief.  

Heidi…on the other hand…is inconsolable.  

“NOOOOOOO!!!!!  She screams in frustration and anger.  “SHE CHEATED!!!”  She even tries to show the referee how I cheated by theatrically grabbing her own suit and pulling them so tight they ride into her ass giving her a wedgie so painful she yelps and comes at me.  One glance from Mary, however, stops her in her tracks.  

In response to all of this, the referee again points at me and shouts, “WINNER!”

It takes another moment, but the realization really begins to sink it.  I WON!  I BEAT HEIDI!  

Maybe I am a superstar in the making.

Great job
Super well done
Come on Joni
Let’s score another one!


I guess I really made a spectacle after my first victory celebration.  I am pretty sore now, but at the time, I was turning cartwheels in the ring, running from corner to corner, and screaming and shouting.  The crowd liked it.  It was like they were watching me at Tony’s club.  Only then didn’t throw dollar bills at me.

Boo!

Anywho, Mary looked disgusted when she finally got me to leave the ring.  However, as I stepped down, I caught a glimpse of Lorie’s face, and I will never forget the look of smug satisfaction I saw.  I think she really believes a star is being born.

Our spirit…is outta control
Let it roll, let it roll, let it roll!



Later in the dressing room, I am still jubilant.  I WON!  Mary, on the other hand, isn’t sharing in my excitement.

“You got lucky.”

“I know!  Isn’t it great?!?!”

“Great?”  The look of utter frustration on her face causes my mood to darken a little.  “She was about to snap your spine.  You were on the verge of losing to one of the biggest jobbers in the federation.  You were losing badly.”  A look of sympathy….almost, “Joni, you are not ready.  You are going to get hurt….”

Her words fade out when the door opens and an excited Lorie rushes in!  

“You’re a HIT!  You are about to go PRIMETIME!  Your next match will be our feature event on the Friday Night line up!”

Mary’s ominous warning is now forgotten.  This star is burning bright.

Jam!
Say what? Say what?
Jam!
That’s what we do!
We Jam!
We do for you!
We turn around, touch the ground
Get back up, and Jam it down!

« Last Edit: May 01, 2013, 07:20:16 PM by Jonica »
Bad (Bad) Blood (Blood)
The bitch is in her smile.
The lie is on her lips,
Such an evil child.

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Offline T aka Tony

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Re: Confessions of a Reformed Cheerleader
« Reply #10 on: May 01, 2013, 08:42:58 PM »
 ;) As always awesome work!!!

Tony
xoxo
Cheers!

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Offline peccavi

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Re: Confessions of a Reformed Cheerleader
« Reply #11 on: May 03, 2013, 11:50:25 AM »
a true gem , thank you , your portrait of Heidi is just as I imagine her. Thank you for that too.

In admiration

J P
Blondes are cool Brunettes are Hot!!

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Offline Marie B.

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Re: Confessions of a Reformed Cheerleader
« Reply #12 on: May 03, 2013, 02:11:13 PM »
She says I never had a chance against Marie, even though I got in some lucky moves.  “Marie would take you apart in a rematch right now.  Probably would several years down the road.”

The author of this story has a firm grasp of the obvious. :D

Terrific work, as always, Joni.



Marie

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Offline Kayla

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Re: Confessions of a Reformed Cheerleader
« Reply #13 on: May 04, 2013, 04:27:32 PM »
Ah, Joni! A great win against Heidi - doesn't matter how - trust me - a win is a WIN! Woopee!  ;D ;)

Hugs
Katja
Naughty - but oh, so NICE! :-)

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Offline Laurie Breeze

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Re: Confessions of a Reformed Cheerleader
« Reply #14 on: May 04, 2013, 04:46:43 PM »
Well, you reeled me in again! This was an AWESOME chapter on so many levels!

The way you captured Ho-Ho-Heidi's (sorry for the stutter) annoying whiney spoiled obnoxious personality so perfectly.... the classic Ho-Ho-Heidi (there it is again) pissy hissy fit..... the buildup, the dialogue, the match itself, EVERYTHING proves what I've been telling everybody forever! A Joni story is always like a Master Class in writing!  :-* :-* :-*

Am I being too selfish to ask for....no, to DEMAND the next chapter as soon as possible???

Love ya, peeshwank!

hugggzzz 'n xoxo

~Laurie~

PS - Shut up, Marie!
We're on a circuit of an Indian dream
We don't get old, we just get younger
When we're flying down the highway
Riding in our Indian Cars