Lying there on my back, I feel dazed. The crowd noise is starting to blur, and that's not a good sign. My opponent busting out an Exploder was so unexpected that I barely had time to tuck my head, and I took that landing far worse than I'd have liked.
Chest heaving as I suck in air, I try to force myself through the fog of my mind to take stock. I'm on the mat, I'm not being pinned or otherwise touched, and I'm not hearing my opponent's awful ring music, so the match is still on, but she's elsewhere. Where? Look around, god damn it! Look left! Look right! There! Top rope! Groaning, I lean back and pull my legs up off of the mat, getting my knees up.
LVK: NO! SHE GOT HER KNEES UP!
RP: YES! SHE GOT HER KNEES UP!
Lisa's midsection crashes down hard onto me, stretching my leg muscles painfully, but as she rolls off of me, clutching at her stomach, boots kicking at the mat, it's easy to see who got the worst of it. Seeing the ref counting us down, I lie there for a moment, getting a good bit of breath in me, before pushing myself up to a sitting position.
Seeing that I'm nowhere near the ropes, I groan, rolling over onto all fours, before pushing myself back up to my feet, breaking the ref's count at six. Looking across the ring, Lisa was still struggling to her hands and knees, so I walked over towards her, positioned myself facing her head, and reached down, wrapping both arms around her waist and lifting upward.
RP: POWER BOMB!
LVK: Lisa Starr bounced hard off the mat, and Callista going for a cover. One! Two! Thr-no, she kicked out!
I wasn't going to waste time arguing or showing off, now. Had to keep pushing. Going for Lisa's hair, I pulled her back onto her feet, shooting one hand between her legs and going for her shoulder with the other, lifting her up off of the mat.
LVK: Callista now going for a body slam, wait no, she's drops Lisa's shoulder right across the knee!
The shoulderbreaker hit perfectly, and Lisa was again on her back. This time I made no effort to cover her. I knew what my target was, and I was softening her up for that. I got down on my knees and reached under Lisa, rolling her over onto her stomach, grabbing for one of her legs.
RP: God this is fun to watch. Isn't this fun for you, Larry?
LVK: It's certainly a display of Quinn's skill and experience. She's got her leg now, possibly going for a single-leg crab? No, I must correct myself again, she's wrapping that leg around her shoulders and...can she get her up? Yes she can! Stretch muffler.
Lisa was crying out in pain now as all her weight pulled down on the leg padlocked around my neck, torquing that knee fiercely. The ref came in, asking if she wanted to submit, but she shook her head. I bent my knees a bit bouncing her up and down, worsening the pain, and saying, “I think she's nodding upside-down!”
The ref gave me a sour look, and called out “No submission!”
I would have shrugged, but my arms were a bit occupied. They were also a bit sore, so I decided it was time to put Lisa Starr down. In every sense of the word. Keeping her upside-down, I jumped up one more time, but this time I pulled my feet up, bringing my knees in and dropping Lisa head-first in a sort of impromptu piledriver. Little Miss Dyejob crumpled in a heap on the mat.
I stood up, smiling at the booing crowd and slowly drawing my thumb across my neck. It was time.
Rolling Lisa onto her tummy once more, I put my left foot in between Lisa's legs, facing her feet. Reaching down, I turned her left ankle inward and pulling back on the right, hooking one ankle with the toes of her other boot. The toehold locked in, I leeeeeaaaned backwards, arching my back and reaching behind me, getting both hands under Lisa's chin, and bridging as tightly as I can.
RP: MUTA LOCK!
LVK: Indeed, Callista has got that Inverted STF cinched in tight.
RP: Inverted STF? That's a Muta Lock, Larry. Are you blind?
LVK: They're the same hold you idiot!
NOW I heard crying out, and it was indeed delicious. The ref asked her if she wanted to submit. I could feel her head shaking side to side, but I knew it was only a matter of time. She pulled at my hands with her fingers, but I'd twined my fingers tight, and they weren't going anywhere.
Lisa still had enough energy for one last-ditch effort though, and she started clawing at the mat, trying to pull us backwards. I knew we were in the middle of the ring, though, and wasn't worried. We inched back, and I kept a tight bridge. We inched back again, and I held on. We inched back again. And again. And again.
Frowning, I looked “up” and saw we were now barely a yard away from the ropes. “Alright,” I grumbled, “you've made the valiant effort, now give up. You're not making those ropes.” We inched backwards, “Dammit girl, you-!” we LURCHED forwards as she somehow wiggled her shoulders a bit to get herself some purchase against my bridge. Reaching out with her right hand, clawing at the canvas with her left...her fingers just did grasp the bottom rope.
“SHE'S IN THE ROPES!” the ref shouted.
LVK: SHE'S IN THE ROPES!
RP: NO! HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?
“HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?” I shouted, but the ref was starting a count. Mouth agape, I released Lisa's chin, slumping down to the ground. The crowd was screaming loudly. I was sitting there, stunned. After a moment, I pushed up to my feet, looking around the ring, and seeing that hoodie of mine still in the corner where I'd left it at the beginning of the match.
I walked into the OPPOSITE corner, and reached for the top turnbuckle, reaching around for the corner pad and untying the laces as quickly as I could. I had gotten it most of the way off, when I heard the ref shout, “DAMMIT, QUINN!”
I gave him my best, 'What, me?' look
LVK: There, how are you going to justify that? Callista blatantly tried to cheat by exposing the steel turnbuckle!
RP: Maybe she noticed it was loose and was trying to fix it?
The ref interposed himself between me and the corner, saying “If I catch you breaking the rules again, that'll be it! Disqualified!” and he began re-tying the laces of the pad.
I darted back across the ring, stepping lightly as I could so as not to attract the ref's attention, dropping down to my knees and grabbing hold of the hoodie. I reached into that big front pouch, immediately found what I was looking for, and pulled the Mag-Lite out.
Lisa had made it back to her hands and knees, which was far enough as far as I was concerned, so I stepped forward, swinging it, and cracking it across the back of Lisa's skull, immediately tossing it out of the ring.
LVK: NO! THAT DAMNED CALLISTA! THAT'S NOT RIGHT!
RP: THE ENDS JUSTIFY THE MEANS, LARRY!
LVK: LIKE HELL THEY DO! COME ON! NOT THIS WAY!
The ref turned to see me pulling Lisa's limp body off of the ground. Dunno if he heard the shot or not, but without the weapon, it could have been anything, right? I turned around, facing away from Lisa, tucking her head between my legs while hanging onto her arms. Turning us around, I got my head down between her legs, lifting her up and over on my shoulders before letting her crash down headfirst to the mat.
RP: And it's all academic now! Callista hits the Kudo Driver! That's it! That's all she wrote!
LVK: And there's the cover! ONE! TWO! THREE! DAMMIT!
When the ref called for the bell and the music started playing, I pushed off of my unconscious opponent's body, my arms climbing skyward. “THE WINNER OF THIS MATCH AS A RESULT OF A PINFALL......CAAAAAALLIIIIISTAAAAAA QUIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNN!!!!”
LVK: She may have won the match, but she had to use nefarious means to do it against some very game opposition.
RP: Yeah, yeah, the kid's good and all, but FTW is LUCKY to have wrestling's saviour, Callista Quinn!
LVK: If it weren't for bad luck, we'd have no luck at all.
RP: Will YOU stop?
Final Countdown played as I climbed up off of Lisa, not envying her the headache she'd wake up with as Gemma, Megan, and the Red Enforcer all jogged down the aisle. Gemma and Red climbed in the ring, surrounding my fallen opponent, while Megan prodded a cameraman into position.
Gemma held up Lisa's head for display and pointed at her while I took the mic Megan handed me, “One down! The rest of the trash in the locker room to go. The Countdown are here, the Countdown are real, and TIME!” I said, getting the crowd to chant along. “IS! UP!” We slapped hands (and arses) and ducked out of the ring.
Still on the apron, I grinned down and said, “Red! Fale me!”
Expressions were hard to read behind a mask, but you could see Red's body language slump a bit. “Oh come on, boss! I'm Filipino, not Tongan. I can pronounce actual syllables!”
“Red,” I said warningly, “Do you want to be picking up the bar tab tonight?”
He sighed and walked over towards me. I turned around and he put his head between my legs, holding onto my thighs and I sat back, riding on his shoulders as we all strolled back up the aisle, me holding my wrist up to my hand and tapping it with the tick-tick-tick gesture as we existed.
