[Callista]

RP: Callista with a big power bomb on Sadie.

LvK: And she's going for the pinfall. One. Two. Three?

RP: She got her!

The ref counts three, the bell rings, and the crowd rains down a mass of boos upon me, (albeit mixed in with a few cheers. Lindsay must have some fans out there...or maybe Eddy!) I stand up to get my hand raised, looking down and thinking, 'That was...unexpected.' Sadie lies there on the mat, but as the others come into the ring, she rolls out under the rope, scampering up the aisle, holding her side.

I let the others raise my hands again, but I fix my eyes on Sadie, locking eyes with her as she glances back towards the ring. I purse my lips and my brows furrow. I know what just happened.

RP: The youngster Sadie Davis put in a strong showing against the leader of the Countdown, but a couple times in this match, she took risks that didn't pay off. *footage of the high cross body followed by the roll-through into the back breaker*

LvK: You've gotta take risks if you want to climb that ladder, Rick, but I have to give the devil her due. When openings appeared, Callista capitalised. *footage of the power bomb*

Worry about that later. Duty calls. I make my way over to the camera, putting an arm around Megan's shoulders and saying, "Countdown doesn't threaten! Countdown promises! Everything we say, we do! At Second Coming, it's going to be one of our arms that are raised, and it'll be around one of our waists that the belt wraps around." The cameraman jumps back off the apron before Gemma can "accidentally" knee him in the bollocks, and the four of us head back up the aisle, laughing and slapping hands as we go.

As we do, Red leans my way, and murmurs, "What the hell was that?"

"Haven't the faintest," I answer back...which was true at the time. For now...well, I had to find out the hard way. Seems no great crime to make Red undertake the same...

The image cuts to a graphic of the FTW Championship Belt. On one side of the screen, Callista Quinn. On the other side, a question mark.

RP: One finalist for our main event is now known. Will Countdown make it 2 for 2?

LvK: If they can, what will Countdown do when only one of them can win?

*fade to commercial*

[ThePurpleVixen]

A red R logo appears.

VOICEOVER: This commercial has been rated R for adult language and situations.

There is the pop of a champagne bottle.

Two men elegantly dressed in throwback jerseys and vintage JNCO jeans are tableside at a soiree taking place in the lobby of an Elks Lodge somewhere in the Rust Belt.  One has popped the cork of a bottle of ch- no, wait, that's sparkling wine. Definitely not champagne.  Anyway, he pours it foaming into a plastic Dixie cup.

After a moment, they're recognizable as hip-hop legends and former WWF tag champions, Grandmaster Sexay and Scotty 2 Hotty.

SCOTTY: What is that, André?

SEXAY: *with a wry grin* No.

SCOTTY: Barefoot Samoan?

SEXAY: OHHHHHH, gimme a HELL no! This is that Tito Santana champagne!

SCOTTY: Oh shit, Santana PDM? That's my joint!

SEXAY: Mine too, but a lot of these jabronis don't know about it.

SCOTTY: WELL, LET'S TELL THESE MOTHERFUCKERS!

Both men put on sunglasses, with Brian Christopher adding a beanie hat.

# As a kid, I used to lay awake and think
# When was Santana gonna make a drink?
# But now I'm all grown and my dream came true
# Santana champagne, from him to you
# From the heart of Mission Texas and the forearm king
# Comes a sparkling wine, to make a blind man sing

# Yo it's the sweet thing, from the '89 King of the Ring
# What's the first name in champ - it's Tito!
# The man who invented the Flying Burrito!
# In the 80s, he did lots of J-O-Bs
# But now he gets you drunk with the ABV!

Rikishi arrives, wearing a Hawaiian shirt.

RIKISHI: Hey boys. They sayin' Tito Santana has made a champagne?

SEXAY: That's right, motherfucker! Here, try it.

RIKISHI: A'ight.

The sound of pouring.

RIKISHI: AWWWWWWWWW ... SHIT~!

He is now wearing bright yellow sunglasses.

# I feel alive for the first time
# Each sip hits my lips like a landmine
# Without Tito in my life I was livin' a lie
# His figure-4 makes you weep, but his champagne cries
# He's a Tex-Mex high-flyin' IC champ
# Comin straight out the box with a bowl o' champ'!
# Yo, he a beast with the sugar and yeast, mix it in pots,
# Like his tag career went from the bottom to the tops!

Tito Santana arrives in the lobby, wearing his El Matador costume.

TITO: Compadres, compadres, what is all the hubbub about?

TOO COOL: *collectively* Tito Santana!

TITO: Sí! I see you cholos are enjoying my sparkling wine!

SCOTTY: We certainly are!

TITO: Well, be careful, esé.  This shit'll get you FUCKED UP!  OLÉ!

Fade to a bottle of Santana PDM dripping condensation, sitting in what is pretty clearly a stolen hotel ice bucket on a card table with a white vinyl tablecloth, and two clear plastic glasses full of foaming wine.

VOICEOVER: Santana PDM.  Drink responsibly.  Olé. 

Brought to you by Lonely Island Marketing, LLC.

[Emily Layne]

LVK: And we are back live, ready for the main event of this second episode of FTW fury!
Who will face Callista Quinn in the final of the championship tournament to crown the first ever FTW heavyweight champion?


CG: Ladies and gentlemen we are ready for the main event of tonight. the following contest is set for one fall, introducing first. Hailing from Milan Italy, standing at 5'7" and weighting at 135, Emilyyyyz "The Angel" Layneeeeeeeeeee

I'm standing behind the curtains, cold eyes, concentrated, focused, I hear my music cuts, speakers blow "Radioactive" by Imagine Dragons

The titantron is completely black. Also the lights fade away and the arena is dark.
Then a huge writing appears across the Titantron

I

After a quick second goes the

HATE

Then another quick second and

THE

And finally

COUNTDOWN

The writing stays there for some seconds,flashing the arena.

I HATE THE COUNTDOWN

Soon a Red no enter sign appears over the "THE COUNTDOWN" part of the written, a red circle with a red oblique bar in the middle, it flashes in red over the white written.

The crowd loves it and cheer wildly.
Images of my previous matches appear, replacing the huge written and I wait for my cue to make my way out in the stage

#Welcome to the new age

#Welcome to the new age

I finally appear, I stop before the ramp, lookin down to the ring, I look like I am not caring about the crowd, I pose with my hands on my hips before making my way down, ignoring the guys on the first rows tryin to give me high fives.
But inside me I'm happy to see that there already "I HATE THE COUNTDOWN" signs hanging through the crowd, the merchandising worked well.

(you can find signs and shirts at www.emilylayne.truewrestling.com/merch)

RP: I need to get few words with the production, they can't allow such lame use of the lights and screen

LVK: Emily Layne looks ready to take on Punky. She looks concentrated and ready for action

RP: she is making her fans sad! Such a meany she is!

LVK: I think she is just focused on the match of tonight, her plan is to take care of her enemies and tonight she will face one of them, its her chance to take her revenge on Dow, the two already faced in the main event of First Strike!

RP: Someone should do a blood alcohol test on her, I don't really think she is conditions to have a wrestling match

LVK: then we will have to check on Gemma Rox, as well!

RP: but she is British! They can hold their liquor! Have you ever been around a Italian drunk, Van Keel?

I'm wearing black laced boots, black knee pads, black booty shorts with white thunderbolts across the sides of them, a black shirt with the "I HATE THE COUNTDOWN" logo is covering my upperbody and the black spandex top, crossed on my back.
As soon I make my way between the mid and top ropes I take off the shirt, the crowd roars and I throw the shirt toward the first rows, exposing the top,cut just under my breasts,exposing my whole toned belly.

Taps wrapped around my elbows and a single black fingerless glove complete my outfit for tonight.

I lean down,facing the gorilla position, where my rival will appear, hands on my thighs, eyes deeply staring in front of me.

LVK: Emily has a killer look I can tell! She is ready for this main event! She was waiting for this one since the end of last ppv

RP: *stares at my bent butt* she has something else too from this angle!

[ThePurpleVixen]

The house lights dim and blue and white lights flare accusingly across the crowd, looking for dissidents and people not wearing enough Countdown merch.

Time is clearly almost up, as a big antique brass pocket watch appears on the screen, mercilessly ticking down.

ticktickticktickticktick

The image of the watch shatters apart on the big video screen as Henry Rollins roars out his screaming defiance on the loudspeakers in the blazing chorus of Black Flag's "Forever Time".

#TIIIIIIIIME!  TIME!  TIME!
#FOREVER TIME!
#IT'S TIME TO KISS ME GOODBYE
#ONE LAST TIME!
#IT'S TIIIIIME!

While our latest greatest hits video plays (with a very cool gear-wheel vignette effect on the edges of the screen that I'm proud of, made in AfterEffects) showing the Countdown obliterating everyone, the lights all flare away from the stage and then come back to a focus on it, and when they do, I'm there.

Crouched in the center of the stage, with my silver skull vapor mask (Buy the Punky Skull Mask at ftwshop.com, countdownwrestling.com/gear, and punkymerch.com!) and my chromed and spiked leather jacket gleaming in the lights, my hands dangling over my bent knees, I tilt my head to watch the ring like a gargoyle.

I survey the audience with eyes as blank and bright as stars, wondering if the broken Black Widow is hiding out there in the shadows.  But if she is?  Let her come.

I rise to my Docs sinuously, and move down the aisle like a drift of toxic smoke as the Black Flag fades inevitably to the keytar triumph of "The Final Countdown". 

My jacket hangs loose over my new Stroke of Midnight shirt - it's white and features a black outline of the nuclear Doomsday Clock with STROKE OF MIDNIGHT written in WarGames font underneath. The shirt is cut to my taste, the sleeves ripped away and my tight belly bared, worn over a white sports bra. My fists and wrists are Cactus Jack-wrapped in black tape. My little black vinyl joshi skirt flutters around my hips, cinched over black Lycra boyshorts with a wide chrome-studded white leather belt.  Rocking my new black knee socks with the broken white skulls down the sides and my usual blood-red Doc Martens.

I move down the aisle, turning my head this way and that, grinning behind the metal rictus of the respirator at how children push back from the railing when my moon-bright skull eyes fall on them.  My purple punkytails hang down my back, held with silver skull clasps.

The keytar keeps rocking as I reach the ring apron, tilting my head up to look Emily in the eye, my glossy black lips curved in a smirk as I peel my skull mask off.

"HAILING FROM THE CITY OF ROSES, WEIGHING MORE THAN ENOUGH TO KICK YOUR ASS AND STANDING TALLER THAN ..."

Charlie Guiteau hesitates for a moment before remembering he likes his knees unbroken and his spleen unventilated."

"... YOUR MOM, PLEASE BOW YOUR HEAD FOR THE PRIESTESS OF CHAOS, THE POISON FIST OF THE COUNTDOWN ... PUNKY!"

RP: You heard the man, van Keel!  Bow your head!

LvK: I absolutely will not.

RP: Do you want them to beat you with expensive flashlights, Larry?

LvK: They can beat my head into a damn pulp before I bow my head to a woman with purple pigtails and a damn skull fetish.

RP: ... I wonder if that's her only fetish.

LvK: I highly doubt it.

I jump to the apron smoothly and take the top rope in both taped fists, bending low and then vaulting myself neatly over the top rope, slamming the canvas with my heavy Docs and bouncing on my toes, swinging my tattooed arms across my chest.  I shed my jacket and toss it to the ring girl, my dark eyes never leaving Emily.

The girl looks determined.  Furious.  Ready to kill.

I grin.

Good.

For a moment, Emily's eyes shift back and forth in paranoid confusion. The referee looks equally non-plussed. I slouch back in the corner, innocently awaiting my chance to be patted down for foreign objects, not sure what all the fuss is about.

LvK: Did ... did Punky come down without the Countdown?

RP: Well, of course!  She doesn't NEED to rely on them.  She's a PROFESSIONAL.  She's a LEGEND in this business.  She -

The music keeps playing, the Final Countdown still ticking down, and as the keytars surge through the chorus the audience boos as the white and blue spotlights flare back to the stage and catch Calli emerging in her hoodie, flanked by the Red Enforcer and G-Force.  The three of them come down the aisle to a chorus of boos as Emily glares hatefully at me, the referee sighs and tries to remember how long he has until retirement, and I grin innocently and shrug.

RP: - she has FRIENDS, van Keel, something you wouldn't know about, and your friends don't leave you alone in your time of need!  They're out here to make sure the playing field is nice and level, just like they did when Calli took on Sadie.

LvK: The Countdown's thugs intimidated Sadie Davis at every turn and forced her into a series of rash decisions that may have caused her to just GIVE UP on the match!

RP: ... but they never touched her.

LvK: So you think the Countdown is just out here to cheer Punky on.

RP: Yep.

LvK: All three of them.

RP: Definitely.

LvK: ... I wonder how much Emily's "I Hate the Countdown" shirts are.

RP: If you get one of those, I'm moving over to the Spanish announce table with Ricardo and El Dandy.

Callista stands at the apron with her back to the aisle and gestures grandly, sending Red to the timekeeper's side and Gemma to the hard camera side.  Emily glances in every direction and I grin brightly, offering my boots and belt for the referee to inspect.

He won't find foreign objects.

I don't need any.

[Emily Layne]

My eyes are locked with Megan eyes for whole time she moves down across the ramp,even when she vaults over the ropes.
Then my attention is grabbed by the other members of The Countdown coming down, with Callista action like a conductor, saying to anyone where to go.

I shake my head in disgust.
I can't believe that Gemma and Red fell so low in their career, being manipulated so easy.
My eyes meet Callista just for a moment, the look is intense.
I try to not show any feelings, but I'm not that good in that, and afterall, after I will be done with Punky, she will be my next target.

The referee has a quick look at Megan, but he prefers to "refuse" her "offer" and moves to me to check my boots.
I just nod,my eyes are on Punky eyes now, tryin to get what she has in mind, that's too hard even for me.
Probably she is still lookin for Rowan, I don't know what's going on between the two, but its for sure something deep and intense, she'd better focus on me though, cause I'm not going to do the mistakes I did in the past.

I'm not the same Emily that came down to the ring when she betrayed Rowan, I'm not the same Emily which stepped in the ring at First Strike.

She suddenly opens her mouth while the ref is done checking my boots,only to mock me in own own language.

"Prima ti picchio come un pesto alla genovese, poi ti finisco piegandoti come un fo *beep*to tortellino!"

LVK: wow, looks like our censored thing works even with other languages! It looks like Punky is doing a masterclass of Italian dishes!

RP: speaking of food, where is my pop corn can?

LVK *with a innocent look and a weird bulge on his belly* I don't know!

My fists balling, my side along my sides, only for a second before I run forward, passing next to the referee and jumping to Punky in a ground and pound attempt, the assault is welcomed by the crowd with a explosion of roars.
The ref is shocked, he looks around, like he is about to ask help to someone outside the ring, though he finds there the countdowners which are not the best in this kind of help!

RP: I told you! She isn't in conditions for a wrestling match! She cant even hear the bell or not!

Me and Megan start to brawl while the ref smartly decides to call for the bell.
I'm fighting her in her own style, not the smartest move at all, but still its a signal to her and to the other member of her gang,after a while she is getting the upperhand with her hard fists but soon enough the referee stops us, shoving Punky off me, with a scared look in his face.
I get up and so she does, just grinning to the ref while he has his legs trembling

I'm surprised to see Punky with her arms raised and lookin for a lockup in the middle of the ring. It looks like the brawl attempt didnt affect her at all, well, she is a kind of psycho, its impossible to know what she has in that head except purple pig tails
I just nod and carefully move forward, sliding my right hand to the backside of her neck and my left on her right bicep as she does the same.

I was waiting for a knee on my belly or whatever else, confident that it was only one of her tricks but I was wrong and when she bulges her muscles I find myself staggering backward behind her push.

"NNNGGGGGHH" I groan out, hearing a loud laugh from Gemma at ringside.

LVK: Dow is getting an advantage and marches forward,bullying Layne back!

"Molto più facile di quanto previsto" Punky mocks me again in my own language as I feel her body on mine.

One step, then a second, but no more.
I grunt and sink my feet down, my left leg extends back while my right knee is bend.
I stop her march, the crowd starts to cheer me on with more enthusiasm.
Callie coldly looks to the ring, so does Red while Gemma is arguing with someone in the first row.

I try to push my rival back but there is no way to do it.
At the same height and weight, we both use our bodies to annull each other push and we stubbornly stand there, grunting and panting.

But I'm less stubborn than her, and I get an idea.
My feet slides backward,one step,than another, making her and the whole arena think that she is overpowering me, I groan and protest, I lure her in my trap and I release her collar and elbow to grab her right wrist with my left hand and hooking under her elbow with my right arm before driving my hips against her belly to throw her body over my shoulder and slam her down on her ass before releasing the hold.

LVK: wonderful Judo move by Layne!

RP: this is illegal! This is not Judo!

LVK: Judo has a long respectable tradition all over the world!

RP: Still its not wrestling!

LVK: Nevermind,its like talking with a deaf

RP: What?

Megan looks surprised but angry too.

"Awww what's wrong freak?" I place the tips of my fingers in front of my mouth like sayin
'Ops'

it doesn't take long before she gets up and rush at me but only to find me hooking her arm and bend down to flip her over me in a arm drag to send her down again on her ass.
I love the way her pig tails flies around but now its time to stop joking and as soon she gets up I'm on her and I lace my arm around her head in a side head lock, before suddenly shift my weight on the side and bump my hips on her and drop down on my side, bringing her to the mat in a headlock takedown hold!

"do you remember what was Bane's end? He ended fucked up, and you will do the same end!" I hiss down, squeezing the hold.

I grind her pretty face on the side of my breast and ribs,squeezing as much I can and putting all power I can on my bicep,my legs spread.
The ref gets close but not asking anything for now.

Megan hooks her arm under my thigh and lift it up, planting her feet down on the mat and forcing my shoulders flat under my own weight but as soon the ref hits the mat once I kick out, not releasing the hold.

Callista gets on the apron and point at me.

"she is holding her hair! Watch her ref!"

The ref falls too easy on her trap and he starts walking to her,worried that she may climb the ropes.
I get distracted enough to let Punky starts to force ourselves up on our feet, I try to re group the grip but suddenly I feel my top tugged from behind!

"Hey what the f*beep*"

LVK: Rox is yanking on Layne top! The Countdown starts their blatant illegal tricks!

RP: what are you sayin Van Keel? She just helped her, adjusting her top! We dont want to see naked action! We would lose our TV deal!

[ThePurpleVixen]

I can't BELIEVE that bitch took me over with an ipponzei.  That's MY move.  I'M a fucking judoka.  And this pizza-tossing pignoli nut takes ME over her shoulder? 

It's got me so pissed off that I don't even have time to enjoy having my face mooshed into Layne's pillowy tit.  I almost manage to roll her over for a pin from the side headlock but she kicks free.  Fortunately, that takes her off balance enough that I can get my boots under me and force us back to our feet, taking her up and walking her back to the ropes where I can hopefully shoot her off and int-

- OR, Gemma can snatch the back of Emily's top and squeeze her melons into her chest.  I snerk in amusement.  Well, whatever, this is easier than shooting the busty Italian skeeze off the ropes.  I piston my right fist twice into that tight bare belly, just below the navel, and loosen her grip.  As I stand, I twist my hips and swing my right arm up, cracking my inked bicep under the Angel's jaw, snapping her upright with a European uppercut. 

"I got her," I hiss at Gemma, who laughs and drops off the apron just as the ref finally disentangles himself from the philosophical conversation with Calli.  I grab a handful of Layne's hair and yank her forward, twisting into another CRACKING European uppercut, leaving her groaning and sagging against the ropes.  I shove those strong arms back over the top rope, her back arched and her breasts pushed up for me.  My pierced tongue runs over my glossy black lips. "Grazie per l'offerta," I purr in Emily's ear, stepping to the side and bringing my arm back across my chest, whipping my knife-edged hand out to *CRACK* across her lush tits!

"DOW! OFF THE ROPES!" the ref snaps, beginning his bothersome count immediately.

"One second," I purr, caressing Emily's cheek with my left hand as she gasps and crosses her arms across her aching chest. I grab her wrists and throw her arms wide, pressing myself up against her deliciously.

RP: That's what I'm talkin' about.

LvK: Dow turning the tables with the help of those thugs from the Countdown, and now taking CLEAR advantage of Emily Layne!

RP: Yeah. HOT advantage.

LvK: Settle down, Perle.

"I am gonna *BEEP*ing DESTROY you," I purr softly against Emily's silky lips, and then I step to the side and SNAP my arm in a bullwhip again, hitting across that ample duo with another *CRACK*.  The ref hits "FOUR!" as I snatch Emily's wrist off her aching chest and yank it over my shoulder.  I thrust my hips back into her and haul forward, leaning to TOSS her over me with my own Ipponzei, slamming that sexy ass of hers to the mat.

"THAT's how you *BEEP*ing do THAT," I smirk, and slither out between the ropes, perching on the apron. I wrap my taped fists around the top rope and bend low, dropping it like it's hot as the audience boos (and wolfwhistles).  Emily gets to her feet, showing that resilience that I've come to know all too well over the last decade or so of us feuding, but as she gets up and staggers around to find me, I'm already moving. I neatly sling myself upwards, perching on the top rope and crouching there with perfect balance before I SPRING off the steel strand and launch myself through the air.  My flying forearm pistons across Emily's jaw and drops her flat to a roar from the crowd as I land in a stagger, throwing my fist up in a rock hand and basking in the way the crowd hates my athletic prowess.

I can't blame them. I'd be upset if someone as awesome as me made them look bad by comparison, too.

I decide it's time to bust her spine now that I've got her good and dazed.  I haul the leaning tower to her feet and set her up, taking her wrist and adding a smack to that fine ass before I bullwhip my shoulders, readying to sling her into the ropes - only for the stubborn bitch to pull up short, and YANK me back into a short-arm clothesline!  Spittle flies from my lips as I'm taken ass over teakettle to a huge cheer from the crowd!

Yeah, yeah.  Comeuppance.  Fuck off, nerds.

I shake my head to clear the ringing bells, my punkytails dancing on my shoulders, and Emily growls and drags me upright, taking my arm and whipping ME to the ropes instead.  Fuck THAT, I think to myself, twisting to hit the cables with my back and hips, my skirt fluttering.  I splay my arms out wide and snag the rope tight in both fists, my feet kicking up as I slap Newton across the face and conserve my own damn momentum.

"BITCH!" Emily snarls, since she was clearly waiting to do something unpleasant to me when I came off the ropes.  Impatient, she rushes at me, a malevolent force of revenge.  Fortunately, I'm utterly fearless and can meet her head on.

I mean, I CAN, but instead I just duck down and yank the top strand down as I thrust the heel of my Doc Marten into the front of her knee.  She gives a pained cry and staggers - and with the low bridge in front of her, she topples over and out to land with a rough thud on the mats.

... she should be more careful.

There's dangerous people out there.

[Callista]

When Emily tumbles out of the ring and onto the floor, the ref looks first in my direction. After a pause, I lift an arm and yell, "Go Punkers!" like a cheering fan, (albeit an incredibly intelligent and devastatingly beautiful fan who's slightly distracted from the proceedings, perhaps thinking about her dinner that evening.)

Gemma and Red, of course, head straight for her, and as Megan reminds the ref that he's supposed to be paying attention to HER, (Megan's so vain,) the pair of them begin to put the boots to Emily, stomping and kicking at her.

Deciding quantity of kicks rather than kickers is the more important statistic to increase, I climb up on the apron, give a slight tug to the tie of the top corner pad around the turnbuckle and yell out, "Hey, ref! Why are you giving Megan *BEEP*? Look at what Emily's been doing over here?" pointing at the loosened pad.

RP: Why that dirty little cheater.

LvK: ...you're just NOW noticing?

RP: She's clever about it, but she couldn't fool Callista! She spotted that loosened pad from a mile away!

LvK: *sigh*

Meanwhile, back on the fun side of the ring, Red is standing over Emily, holding her legs apart. Gemma races in and drops down into a Roxslide, landing one boot RIGHT on the button.

Red looks in my direction, and I give him a 'wrap it up' sign, as the ref is tiring of this conversation. The masked Countdowner lifts Emily up, prompting Gemma to get up as well and uppercut Emily in her left tit, before rolling the Italian back under the bottom rope. "Oh FINE!" I say, not entirely sure it fit the context of the conversation, but job done anyway, so I jump down off the apron and back onto the floor.

[ThePurpleVixen]

"Hey, Gerry!  C'mere!" I rub at my forehead as I get to my feet, intercepting the ref as he turns away from suspiciously glaring at Calli, and slinging an arm around his shoulders as I rub the heel of my taped hand into my head, guiding him away from the carnage on the outside.  "I think that bitch had a razor in that glove!  Why the *BEEP* didn't you check her?  You know Italians are all *BEEP*ing crazy!"  I lift my hand with a hiss of air through my teeth and let him look at my forehead.

"Is it bad?" I ask as Red and Gemma stomp a proverbial mudhole into Emily Layne on the outside.  "I ... I don't see anything," he says, concerned.  "Shit!  That means she must have used POISON! Get the antidote kit!" The referee looks briefly panicked.  "THE WHAT?!"

LvK: Oh, for the love of God.

RP: That's a SERIOUS, LEGITIMATE CONCERN, van Keel! Italians are FAMOUS for poison. You don't watch "The Borgias"?!  IT'S ALL THERE.

LvK: ... that's fine, Rick.  Tell me all about the gripping Showtime drama.  We'll have a fine chat about it while the COUNTDOWN STOMPS THE LIVING HELL OUT OF EMILY LAYNE.

RP: ... as long as she doesn't interrupt.  So Jeremy Irons plays RODRIGO Borgia, see, and he ...

I risk a glance over my shoulder as Gerry is distracted from his search for the antidote kit by looking at Calli's loosened turnbuckle pad.  Larry van Keel, that huffy old stickler, is trying to wave his attention over to the hard camera side where Red and Gemma are STILL laying into Emily.  I roll my eyes a little, twisting my fingers in the "wrap it up" symbol.  I don't mind a little gang violence but this is starting to verge on being insulting.

It's not like I can't take the bitch myself.

Calli seems to see my gesture but takes her SWEET TIME before she does anything - and from the wail of agony and the sympathetic groan of the crowd, I'm going to assume that Gemma just booted Emily in the goody basket.  Call me a connoisseur of agony.  I narrow my eyes a little at Quinn.  There's never a time the leader of the Countdown isn't fucking up to something.

I move to the ropes to gather up Emily as Red starts to roll her in, impatiently hauling her to her feet.  She's pretty messed up, so I shove her back into the corner and throw her arms over the ropes so she'll stop cradling her aching mound, and then I set my boots and lace into her body and those pillowy punchable breasts with a flurry of taped-fist punches so there's a plausible reason for all the bruises and groaning.  The ref earnestly rushes over to administer another five-count. "I'VE GOT 'TIL FIVE!" I growl at him as I turn away, letting Em slump down in the corner, her arms hanging from the top rope by her elbows and her hair curtaining her face.  Red grins at that.  Calli just smirks.  A little. 

I flicker my dark shadowed eyes across the Countdown - they seem to be back into their posts.  Good enough.  I subtly flip my right hand from my hip twice as if shooing something away, waving them off before I take Em by the wrist and drag her from the corner.

"Time for a ride," I purr as I push her into the ropes on Red's side, bending the steel back with a press of my body into her lush, aching form - and then I hop-step back and THROW my weight into whipping her to the far side, immediately planting my Doc Martens. My hands come up, fingers curling in anticipation. 

I'm gonna scoop this bitch up onto my shoulder, spin her around once to show her off to the crowd and then break her fucking back over my knee. Maybe push her by the chin and the hot pants to see if she wants to give.  Gonna soften her up for the Dollbreaker.

She'll break just like fucking Rowan did.

Yeah.  Just as soon as she comes back off those ropes.

[Callista]

I see the whip coming, I see which way the ref is looking, and I pick my spot. When Emily's back hits the ropes, I reach out under the bottom rope, grabbing hold of one of her ankles, hanging on as her momentum sends her upper body forward while my grip keeps one foot firmly in place. Emily face-plants into the mat, and the first thing I hear is, "YOU!"

RP: How sportsmanlike of Callista to help fix Emily's untied boot like that!

LvK: ...

RP: Ok, that was a bit of a reach.

LvK: Even for you...speaking of reaches though, I think the ref caught that reach by Callista!

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I didn't touch her!" I say, lifting my hands as if that were evidence. "All I did was put my hands up cuz I thought she was gonna kick me!"

It's a long-shot, but the ref's not having any of it. He points to me, then to Gemma, then to Red. "You! You! You! YOU'RE OUTTA HERE!!!"

"WHAT?" I yell, getting up on the apron to argue. "That's ridiculous! First she pulls hair, then she tries to loosen the corner pad, you miss all of that, but you're kicking us out cuz I put my hands up to protect myself?" It's not going to change his mind, but it should give Megan a chance to get some more work in behind his back.

"GO! GET OUT OF HERE!" he shouts to the cheers of the crowd.

I slap the corner pad, shaking the ropes in apparent frustration at the injustice of it all, but as Gemma and Red approach, I hop down, walking back up the aisle with the pair of them. I glance back to the ring, locking eyes with a visibly upset Punk briefly, before turning to Gemma and saying, "Looks like you're off the hook for the bar bill, tonight." Fair's fair, after all.

[Emily Layne]

I slowly recover from the nasty meeting between my face and the mat of the ring.
Stirring up I try to understand what is happening around me.
I feel pain pretty much everywhere, those stomps and kicks worn me down,not to mention that blow to my crotch from Rox while Red was carefully holding my legs wide opened!
Anyone of them will pay!

Lets say that since when Punky started with those nasty knife chops on my breasts, things went not very nicely for me.

I notice that the ref is throwing The Countdowners out of the ring area and Punky is watching in shock to what its happening.
Not only shocked, she is totally frustrated about it and glaring down to her buddies.

A evil smile appears across my face and I lick my glossy lips in anticipation, I feel energies getting back, my breasts heaving inside my tight black top.
I don't care a lot about Punky feelings right now, my target is to take her down, now!

Megan wastes a couple of seconds more to look outside the ring, I  waste one single second to meet Callista eyes and smile at her, makin sure she sees my middle finger up just a second later I sneak behind my American opponent, to her left side, my right arm wraps around her strong shoulders.

"sorry darling" I purr before driving my right leg between hers and suddenly drop on my back, forcing her down with me in a Russian leg sweep, forcing her down on ass and back.

I do a backflip and roll on my feet while she arches on her side, with one hand rubbing the small of her back.

RP: this move should be banned from the wrestling circuit! I know for sure that its not legal in 27 states! Its from behind and plus it has a really not nice name! It implies our longest time enemy in the history!

LVK: I think I saw you perform that a couple of times!

RP: it wasn't me!

Meanwhile the announcers arguing, I move the side of my victim and drop down on my ass with my right leg extended, slamming my thigh against her throat in a leg drop!

The crowd likes it and shows support with some loud roars.
I grab Punkys hair with both hands,forcing her up and roughly shove her to the closer ring post.
The ref is about to warn me about the hair pulling but as soon I glare at him he gulps.
Her back and ass lean over the turnbuckles, her arms over the middle rope as I can tell that my last two moves worn her down some.
My lips curl in a snarl, my nostrils flare, eyes on fire as I have in my eyes what happened in the ppv when I was in the ropes and then in corner, worked by Gemma and Megan together in some brutal moves.
Plus tonight it seems this freaking bitch has a weakness for my breasts...and its not that kind you're thinking about!

Revenge best served cold!
And now its cold enough!

I rush forward,toward the corner where Punky is hanging there and I grab the middle rope driving my shoulder forward into her mid section.
Once, twice, three times!
The ref gasps in surprise again and this time he is counting me.
I send my shoulder once more into her body, not caring about the ref and climbing over the first rope with both feet at Megan right side.
My left foot stays on the rope, bending it down with my weight as I drive my right sole up at Punky throat, spreading wide my legs as my hands grip on the top rope to have more leverage.
My boot is choking out the countdowner and I'm lifting her off the mat,putting as much effort I can in this illegal corner foot choke.

The ref is shocked, most part of the crowd too but they still keep cheering on, in the end I'm simply fighting fire with fire

LVK: Layne is attacking Dow with a not really clean move now!

RP: the ref must call for the bell,now! He is clearly pulling for Layne in this match! That's not professional!


The ref does his job and starts to count me.
As soon he reaches for 4 I jump off the rope and I raise my hands up, stepping backwards while Dow s body slump down in a sitting position, her back leaning on the bottom buckle.

RP: I know guys that are in jail for much less!

The ref looks at me, he is about to warn me to not do it anymore, I give him a look like saying
"I know, I got that, but now shut the f*beep*k up!"

Seeing my tattooed rival down in the corner, I realize its the perfect time to finally show my Heaven Sent to this audience.
I stand in the middle of the ring and lift my right fist up, taunting the crowd before running like crazy toward the corner and turn at the last second to SMASH Megan face with the side of my hip in a hot hips smash that makes the arena roars in excitement!

RP: this is disgusting! That's exactly why Quinn wants to save wrestling!

LVK: did you really use the word "disgusting" for a butt in the face?

Dow face rests on the side as she using her hands to wipe on her face like she is tryin to clean her face from something.
I smile and give a slap to my ass before moving again toward her.
She is stirring, slowly making her way up to her feet as I knee her belly to set her up, her head between my hip and my arm, I squeeze her tight before kicking my feet up and dropping on my ass and nailing a DDT on her.

Her sexy strong body shakes and end on her back, perfectly settled for the pin.
I cover her chest to chest hooking her right leg up for the most classic of the pins.

"ONE...

TWO..."

And she kicks out by lifting her left shoulder up.

[ThePurpleVixen]

Fuck.

FUCK.

What the HELL, Calli?  I had her!  I FUCKING HAD HER.  I'd have been working her off a backbreaker and punishing her spine right now, setting her up for passing out from sheer chiropractic destruction in the Dollbreaker.  But no.  You had to fucking channel Freddie god-damn Blassie and ANKLE TRIP her.

I know I have a few moments here to work over Emily, and I throw a stomp at the back of her head ... but my heart's not really in it.  My eyes are locked on the Countdown, and on Quinn.

She looks awfully fucking happy for someone picking up the bar tab tonight.

God damn it. It's ALWAYS a fucking plot.

I give Layne a little too long to regain her feet, and she snakes me over in a Russian legsweep, hissing through my teeth at the sudden flare of pain in my back as we crash to the mat.  I don't even get time to think of some Russian-Italian joke (something about drunks) before Em gives me a long look at her shapely ass and drops a leg across my neck and commences a quick, efficient attack that drives me into the corner.  There's fire in her eyes.

She impresses me, shoving her boot into my throat and blatantly choking at me.  Even with my head pushed over the ropes and barely balancing on my toes as Em's gorgeous body stretches me out, I grin upside-down.

There's only one thing better than misrule, and that's anarchy.

In misrule, you do what you want and they try in vain to stop you.

In anarchy, EVERYONE does what they want.  Do as thou wilt is the whole of the law.

If what Emily wilt is grinding her boot into my throat?  Fuck it, baby.  That's anarchy.

And now she's beginning to understand.

I chuckle a little, rasping as I slump down to the bottom buckle, resting my head against it. My cheeks are pink, my tight body starting to glow with sweat.    I see the rage in Emily's beautiful face as she races across the ring - she's still playing to the crowd, but she'll learn.

She'll learn.

She rushes in and SLAMS that fine ass into my face and for a moment everything goes into stars, a flare of darkness as her weight crashes into me at high speed.  I'm hauled up and stumble straight into a knee buried into my tight belly, folding me up before she spikes me with a DDT.

She lays across me and I take a moment to relish the pressure of her and the lovely hook of my leg, but I've been DDT'd into fucking concrete floors and kicked out before two. I roll my shoulder before the ref's hand smacks the mat a second time, although he rounds it up to two when he stands and throws up his fingers for the timekeeper.  Refs.  Such drama queens.

There's a brief respite as Emily unhooks.  I grin to myself even with my head ringing and my belly bruised, laying in the glow of the overheads.  I know what she's gonna do.  And she does.

"TWO?" she snarls.

Well, it was really more like one, but I'm gonna let her get her steam up.

She gets right in Gerry's face, and he's still surprised.  Emily's one of the NICE ones, one of the GOOD girls, one of the pretty public faces of FTW.  She's not supposed to argue with referees or curse or choke people for 4-counts.  He looks like someone who's being savaged by a kitten.

That gives me time to roll to one knee, tossing my punkytails back over my tattooed shoulders.  With a little grinning snarl, I take Em's shapely hips and SHOVE her forward into the ref!  "HEY!" he yelps, staggering backwards, no doubt shocked as the beloved Italian superstar suddenly attacks him!  Emily gasps, bringing her hands up in protest - and I purr and ball my right fist, swinging a golf club shot between those shapely thighs to give her a zesty uppercut in the calzone.

The crowd groans in sympathy as Layne clutches herself and crumples to the mat.  "She's out of control, Gerry," I grin as I slink up to my feet, moving to the referee and ostentatiously brushing his shoulders off, straightening his bowtie before he splutters and waves me away.  "Don't worry, sugardick.  I'll get her out of your hair."

LvK: GERRY, COME ON!  YOU'RE BETTER THAN THAT!

RP: I think it's nice of Punky to straighten the official's bowtie AND give Layne a free pelvic exam.

LvK: ... I ...

RP: Right?  I didn't even know she was a licensed physician.

I don't make the mistake of keeping my back turned on Emily, swiftly moving into her.  "C'mere, sweet tits," I hiss softly, yanking her up with a handful of hair - and while she's still bent over and cradling her aching goody basket, I kindly slam my right knee up a few times to hammer those tits she's so proud of flat against her ribs, finishing by dropping to one knee, chambering my right arm and launching a brutal palm thrust under her jaw. The heel of my palm strikes her chin, snapping her upright with her eyes crossed.  She wobbles, nearly falling and I stand up, shaking my hands out with a purr.

"LOOKS LIKE IT'S ABOUT *BEEP*ING TIME!" I roar.  I twist and slam my hips back into Em's tight belly.  I bend both knees and drop my hands, caressing the Angel's lovely legs and hooking both her knees as I straighten up, lifting her up.  I yank her legs forward so they hang on my hips, and my left hand keeps her knee locked as I bring my right hand up and cradle the back of her head, pulling her chin tight against my right shoulder.

"Let's go for a *BEEP*ING RIDE!" I snarl with a grin, wearing Emily Layne like a sexy backpack as I take three running steps to mid-ring and KICK off the mat, bringing both legs up and TWISTING in the air, spinning us gracefully as we both drop, our combined weight CRASHING down and compacting Em's spine, her jaw SNAPPING off my shoulder as we ride gravity to beautiful destruction.

LvK: GREAT CAESAR'S GHOST, PUNKY HITS THE FOREVER TIME BUSTER!

RP: The backpack jawbreaker's like a friggin' Stone Cold Stunner that snaps your neck with your own body weight.  Hits like a damn truck.  Layne is DONE.

LvK: And here's the count!

I hook Em's outside leg and lay my body across her belly, my legs curled in to vine her inside leg, nodding along as the ref makes the count!

ONE!

TWO!

- FUCK, who said she could kick out?!

[ThePurpleVixen]

For a moment, I'm SO DAMN FURIOUS that she kicked out that I almost forget to follow up, lost in a moment of unfocused boundless rage as Emily kicks my grip free and gets her shoulder up.  Then I remember that I want Emily Layne in a state of constant agony for daring to defy me, and that clears my mind nicely.

Taking her shoulder, I roll the still-aching Italian beauty over to her belly and slither across her lower back. I plant my knees on either side of her hips, resting my full weight across her lower spine.  I sinuously bend down, pressing my pierced chest against her strong shoulders with a lascivious smirk for the hard camera as I run my taped hands down her arms, crossing at the elbows to take a reversed grip on her wrists.  I hiss softly as I sit up, pulling her left arm to the right and her right arm to the left, crossing them and then yanking back like I'm setting a hook to trap her own throat in her crossed wrists.

I cinch her in the GOKU RAKU GATAME!

LvK: And Dow looks to sink the mounted Japanese Strangle!  An absolutely VICIOUS hold!

RP: THAT'S the move we were missing during that bit back on First Strike.

LvK: What?

RP: The bit about the American giving the Italian a German with the Brit ... somewhere ... we needed a Japanese something in there!

LvK: Sometimes I find myself morbidly curious about how your brain works, Rick.

RP: It's mostly dark lewd fantasies that I come out of for a few seconds at a time to drop a non-sequitur on you.

I plant my Doc Martens and LEAN back, thrusting my hips forward and YANKING back, my long tattooed biceps going hard and lean, twisting my grip on Layne's wrists as I pour pressure into the hold, my weight crushing at the small of her back as I move to choke her with both arms in the center of the ring.

"God DAMN it Dow, if that's a choke, so help me, I will throw this damn match to a DQ even if the TV producers jump down my damn throat over it," Gerry growls. The man has apparently reached his limit.

"SO *BEEP*ING CHECK IT, YOU BALD OLD *BEEP*, IT'S A GOD-DAMN GOKU RAKU GATAME! YOU HEAR THAT, VAN KEEL?" I snarl before growling softly, leaning closer to Em's ear. "Now, Em - let's see if you can SCREAM," I snarl in her ear, ignoring the referee's hysterics as he tries to check her crossed, locked arms across her throat to see if the Gatame qualifies as a choke.  I LEAN back, my punkytails almost brushing her hips as I arch viciously into the hold, trying to soften up Emily's pretty little neck and weaken her back.

To my frustration, though, Layne DOESN'T scream - she groans, she growls, but she FIGHTS.  She tenses her shoulders, twisting side to side, yanking at her arms to try to free them as I ride her like a bucking bronco.  Snarling, I LEAN back harder, my inked biceps standing out as I yank Layne backwards into a brutal curve. She cries out - but she keeps fighting, twisting under me!

Damn stubborn witch!  Can't you just lay down and let me break you in half?!

[Emily Layne]

I think that my jaw and neck had snapped out of the rest of my body after the brutal impact of the forever time buster!
I lay there, Megan is holding my leg up but this is still not over!
I kick out, lifting my right arm and shoulder up between the cheer of the crowd but I am not in conditions to roll away and my rival takes easily advantage on me by climbing my back and trap me in a nasty gatagame submission hold.

My own biceps are pressing on my throat and my face contorted in pain, but I don't want to give her some satisfactions. She asks me to scream, I will die before scream!
I focus on tryin to escape the hold, my body furiously shakes in any directions, and so my arms.
She leans back in a incredible angle.

RP: I wonder what would happen if these two would meet in my bed, that would be interesting

LVK: ...

My breasts now are pushing against the fabric of my top, and it looks like the top is about to rip in two halves in any moment for the joy of the guys in the first rows who are taking pics and videos to catch the hot moment!
For their disappointment, the top doesn't rip.
I use all my effort and after some seconds I can feel the grip finally  loosening.
Megan realizes that too and releases the hold getting up and arguing with the ref.

I roll on my back, rubbing my neck.
Probably still frustrated cause Callie interference and my kick out of before, the freaking Punky is jawing with, complaining about the earlier pin, yelling in his face as he is rubbing his ears before moving to me to re group her assault.

As soon Punky sinks her hands on my hair and lifts me up to set her next move I swing my right arm forward and up, my forearm smashes right between her legs in a frontal low blow which causes a loud buzz mixed with roars from the crowd!

RP: And another blatant low blow from Layne!

LVK: Another? It was Punky who nailed a low blow on Layne only few moments ago!

RP: That was a pelvis exam! Anyway, this girl is showing the real Italian nature!

LVK: what are you sayin Perle?

RP: we all know that 90 % of the world criminals have Italian origin!

LVK: I'm still surprised they didn't fire you!

I pant meanwhile Punky clutches her crotch with both hands, staggering around the ring.

The ref looks at me with a suspicious look.
I smile and wink at him, adjusting my top to distract him before quickly running to the American freak from behind and wrap my arm around her collar, I force her running forward with me before leaping feet first forward and send her down to meet the canvas face first with a brutal running bulldog!

LVK: And the ring is shaking!

I stay in a sitting position for some seconds, recovering from the gatagame of before,clutching my neck, then I make my way up,curling my legs to the side and lean down to grab Megan leg and lifting it up.

"time to hurt you freak *beep*"

My right leg raises up, then drives down against her thigh in tension.

Once, twice,three times!
Each blow is followed by a gasp from the crowd.

LVK: Layne is showing her brutal side right now! She is tryin to wear Dow leg down with some cruel stomps!

"how's that uh?" I growl between gasps, but I don't wait for any response and I bend my right knee back, my knee pointing forward and suddenly I drop down, aiming my right knee right on Dow quadriceps in a knee drop!

Its such a pretty scene to see Meg holds her leg with both hands!

I lick my lips and get up again, walking around my prey before hauling her up by the hair and force her to stand before slipping behind her and hook my both arms around her, I bulge my muscles as much I can and grunt in effort before lift her toned body in my double arm chicken wings!

LVK: oh my goodness! Emily is ready for her Falling Angel devastating move!

RP: Come on Dow! Kick her between her legs!

LVK: That's not professional!

RP: You ever been professional?

LVK: I hate you!

I put all effort in the hold, lifting Dow body up, as higher I can, my legs muscles are trembling, holding our both weights together, my face showing the big effort as I start to parade my victim for the audience to see.

LVK : what a impressive hold!

Gerry is asking Punky if she wants to submit but she shakes her head and curses at him in some kind of weird dialet.

I hold her in this position one second more before extending my arms up high, my hands suddenly slide down and hook on her thighs while I drop on my ass and force her down on her face and chest in another brutal impact!

The crowd roars, thinking that this can be the end of the Main Event.
I lick my lips and look around before shoving her body on her back and I climb over her, my body sinuosly slides over her, chest on chest, legs on legs,face on face for the pin, like we are about to something else more than a pin as my sore breasts are crushing down on hers!

RP: where is my Galaxy s5???

ONE

TWO

Punky lifts her shoulder up,breaking the sexy and kinda arrogant pin.

[ThePurpleVixen]

I feel like Emily Layne is trying to take me through a CrossFit workout, giving me EXTREME muscle confusion with her relentless assault.  I admit, I lost my cool a little bit, letting out some of my seething frustrations with Layne's stubbornness and with ... whatever the hell happened with my Countdown earlier.

Still, pissed off or not, I should've kept an extra eye on her.  I've been so used to fighting her little fan-kissing rule-loving ass across Europe and the States that I didn't take her recent darker mood into consideration, and I paid for it with a free uppercut to the Easter basket.

Layne's attack after that was furious, but a little undirected. She rang my bell with a bulldog but then went after my right leg, hammering my quad like she was getting ready to drop her kneepads, do a Fargo strut and put on a figure-four.  Instead of that, though, she yanked me up into her fucking Falling Angel, which did my shoulders no favors and pissed me off to no end, being paraded like that for the howling monkeys in the FTW audience, but left my leg be. 

Still, I kind of wished she HAD gone for a leglock after she swung me down into the canvas with my arms yanked behind me back.  Faceplanting from eight feet up is never much fun and I think she drove my nipple barbells into my lungs.  I dizzily run my tongue stud over my teeth, counting the little metallic clicks to make sure they're all there.

She takes the time for a sensual cover that I'd appreciate in other circumstances, and I snarl and shove free of it, breaking the count.

LvK: These two women are showing FURIOUS determination.

RP: AND they're both showing a willingness to fight dirty that I think speaks very well of them!

LvK: Well ... I .. look, Rick, Emily Layne has been put under a great deal of stress by the Countdown, and ...

RP: And that makes it okay for her to hammer Punky in the hot pocket?

LvK: ... I just ... hey, look, Dow is fighting to her feet.

RP: I have you wriggling in the crushing grip of reason, van Keel.

Layne tries to drag me up again - the ref watching closely this time to make sure neither of us goes for a crack to the clam - and I thank her for her interest with a few short, driving jabs to her tight abs.  She's still a bit bruised from the beatdowns she's taken, and loses her grip, and I grab her shoulder and lunge to my feet, slamming her jaw with a right forearm. She staggers back and I regain my boots, favoring my right leg a little, but Emily comes right back at me, driving me back towards a corner with a quick flurry of forearms to the crowd's delight - but I stop her cold, catching her arm and driving a palm thrust between her breasts to break her breathing! 

She gasps, staggered, and I shake my head with a snap of my violet punkytails and grab her by the back of the head, shoving her against the ropes on the timekeeper's side.  She comes off the ropes and hits a slightly stumbling right fist that snaps my jaw to the side.

"YAY!", exclaim the ruminants in the crowd.

I reply with a fist hammered between her eyes.

"BOO!" offers the crowd in all their wisdom.

Emily hits an open-handed shot across my chest that makes a SMACK.

"YAY!" cries the mindless crowd beast.

I stagger back a step - and pivot on the ball of my foot, snapping my Doc back and up and driving my heel deep into Layne's navel with a Zbysko belly kick.

"BOO!" opines the drooling crowd.

That last shot leaves Layne bent and gasping, so I take her shoulders and piston my knee up into her belly a few times, yanking her into me with each shot like I'm mugging her in a Portland alley and trying to make sure she can't scream, and eventually she collapses to her knees and slumps back against the bottom rope.

The referee dares to intercede at this point, trying to push me back as Emily is left clutching her stomach and gasping like she accidentally ordered a hot phaal at a curry joint.

LvK: Layne is showing TREMENDOUS resilience and will - but it's just so damn difficult to go toe-to-toe with a slugger like Punky.

RP: She comes at you like a hurricane made of razor blades.

LvK: ... are you reading that off Countdown stationery?

RP: I get a little baksheesh every time I push one of their new slogans.

LvK: You're a model of professionalism, Rick Perle.

RP: Yeah?  Well, Punky is - *paper rustles* - a dervish of devastation!

Emily is just starting to pull herself up on the middle rope - and my eyes gleam as I suddenly shove the balding ref out of the way and BLAZE forward, boots slamming the canvas.  I drop low, legs folding under me and then unfurling in a brutal snap, launching me like I'm spring-loaded to slam my shoulder into Emily's battered belly and tackling her right out through the ropes, all the way to the thinly-padded concrete where we land with a brutal *THUD*.

RP: HOLY *BEEP* BALLS!

The crowd seems torn on starting a chant and protesting the injustice done to Layne's body, but at least they're making a riot of noise. I like that.  I clear my head and grin, dragging myself to my feet.  Emily is still folded up and kicking her boots softly, but she shows sparks of life as I drag her up by that slutty top, firing a few fists into my tight belly. I grunt and sputter a little, and she claws her way up and drives a cracking right across my black lips, and I spit a little red as I'm knocked back.

First blood.

Oh, she'll pay for that.

Layne comes after me, breathing hard and painfully but with revenge in her eyes, and snatches me by the punkytails to drag me forward, racing me across the mats and intent on slamming my pretty face into the steel ringpost!  Fortunately for all my admirers, I'm WAY too awesome to let that happen.  I snap my right foot up, slamming my boot into the steel post, and my leg accordions up as I snarl and resist Emily's furious attempt to hammer my good looks into the metal - but then I snatch my left fist in my right hand and PISTON my left elbow back, hammering it DEEP into the Italian's battered belly!

She folds up with a DELICIOUS moan of pain, and I snatch her dark hair and yank her head WAY back - and then ...

*CLANG*

LvK: GREAT CAESAR'S GHOST!

RP: OOOOOOOH, that's an Excedrin headache!

Emily is SMASHED into the post and she slumps against it like a blackout drunk hugging a lightpost on the way home - and I lick my split lip in pleasure seeing her pretty forehead split open and scarlet coloring that furious beautiful Raphaelite angelface.

The referee DEMANDS we get back in the ring.  "You got it, candyballs,", I purr.  I drag Emily up and roll her roughly under the bottom rope, and I slither in after her - glance up to ensure that Gerry acknowledges the count out is broken - and then I slither back out to a chorus of boos.

"GET BACK IN HERE, DOW!"

"Shut your *BEEP*ing yap, Gerry. I'll be with ya in a *BEEP*ing second or two.  Or *BEEP*ing FIVE."

I reach under the bottom rope with my shoulder leaning against the bloodied steel ringpost.  My arms stil ache a bit from the Falling Angel, but I snatch Layne's ankles and YANK her forward, planting my boot on the steel and thrusting back for a little extra pep as I SLAM her into the post hard enough to make her sit up groaning and then flop back down, clutching at herself.

LvK: Folks, I probably don't need to mention this, but don't try any of this at home.

RP: Unless you're short on cash and need some emergency birth control.

LvK: ...

"Let me show you how *I* cripple someone's leg, tesoro," I purr.  I yank her firmly forward, drawing another groan and quickly fold her left leg into a four around the post, her ankle braced on her right knee. I take a deep breath and gracefully bring my left leg up, hooking my knee over her boot, gripping her right ankle tight in both hands ... and then I KICK off my aching right leg, hooking the heel over her foured left leg and letting all my weight hang from her foured legs!

Bret Hart innovated the ringpost figure-4 and Gail Kim made it an infamous part of her arsenal - but I NAMED mine.

RP: HOLIDAY IN CAMBODIA!  PUNKY'S GOT HER IN THE HOLIDAY IN CAMBODIA!  Layne's GOTTA give now!

LvK: Tapping out to an illegal submission does NOT lose you the match, Rick. You should remember that from your days of using the infamous Grape Pulper! Punky has five seconds to let that hold go!

I rock my hips back and forth as I swing from her trapped legs, twisting her right ankle and flexing my left leg, snaking it over her ankle to put unbearable pressure across her barred knee.  I can tell from her sweet musical agony that she appreciates my efforts, but I make sure not to lose myself in the fury of the crowd or the delicious operatic pain of the Angel, listening instead to Gerry's furious and all-too-quick count.  Just as he draws breath for "FIVE!" I snake my hooked legs free and drop her foot, slithering down to the concrete and back-rolling over my shoulders neatly, coming up on my knees and bringing my hands up innocently.

A long moment is taken to bask in the sweet rage of the crowd, rolling over me like a wave of fury.  I crane my head back, my eyes shut in bliss, listening to the insults and mindless roars woven in with the sonorous boos and laid over with Emily's soft groans of pain.

I throw my punkytails back over the shoulders and look up and back at the hard camera with an enchantingly mischievous grin that draws a fresh rain of hatred, and I  smirk as I snake my way up from my knees.  I slither under the ropes, breaking the count out the ref hurriedly resumes, and take Em's ankle, dragging her out of the ring as she clutches at her aching knee.

"Mind if I borrow this?" I grin at the fuming official.

LvK: You might want to send the kids to bed, folks.  This might get out of hand.

[Emily Layne]

My hand checks on my face after the unforgiving fist that Megan threw to my head.
I find some blood there, but I have no time to recover as she rolls me in the ring and snaps me in a tremendous figure four against the ring post!

I scream like a dog,in huge pain,my hands squeezing my hair and raking down on the mat,tryin to eat as much pain I can.

God!
My leg is on fire!
I feel my right knee about to snap in any moment!
The crowd tries to distract my rival but without success.

The ref finally reaches the five count and Punky releases my legs.
They dangle out of the ring apron before I slide backward

"No no no no!" the ref shakes his head as Punky forces me outside the ring with her by my ankle, I wonder what he is thinking in this moment.
Probably he is wondering why he is not home watching baseball with his family!

As soon I'm standing on the concrete I launch my right hand forward to her dark eyes and nail them in a vicious eye rake which catches her surprised!

The question is, why shall I follow the rules when she keeps using dirty tricks every *beep*ing second?

The crowd gasps out

RP: This Italian really pissed me off now! Someone must stop her!

LVK: Looks like Emily decided to fight The Countdown on their terms, and the audience seems to like it!

ONE the ref started the count.

With Punky staggering around and rubbing her eyes, I move toward her, reaching her side, my right knee hurts and everyone can notice that as I stalk her but I ignore the pain, wanting to take advantage on the quick moment she has her guard off and I bend on my knees to wrap my right arm around her legs and shift up, flipping her legs behind me and hold her body over my right shoulder by her stomach as we both face in the same direction.
I struggle to stay on my feet, clenching teeth to eat the pain on my right leg and rushing forward, letting her body drop forward and her face brutally smash over the steel barricade in front of us which separate the ring area from the first rows of the crowd!

The crowd gasps in shock once again as this match is getting very cruel!
This b*beep* must have a iron skull!
The impact is hard and loud, a metallic noise echoes in the arena.
I hope I busted her opened!

LVK: Holy s*beep*t! Emily just nailed Punky with a terrible snake eyes over the railing!

The ref looks outside the ring, it looks like he is seeing ghosts!
He paused, shocked by the snake eyes but now re group the slow count.

TWO

I crumble down on my side, both hands are now holding my right leg, panting but little light of joy are forming at the view of my unfortunate rival holding her skull with both hands as her boots are kicking the concrete floor.


RP: how can you like that kind of woman? She is mean, and she doesn't smell good as Punky!
Plus she is Italian!

I make my way up and also Megan does, slower than me but still she has the energies to get up.
I move to her, one hand goes to her purple hair,the other on her shirt and I tug on her to throw her body right against the announcers table where she ends laying over it.

Papers, pencils and stuffs are flying from the table.

THREE


LVK: Oh no! The picture of my wife! The holy picture of Pope Francis!

RP: Oh NO! My newest Sudoku! The holy picture of Jenna Jameson!

Punky rolls and she is with her back laying on the table, I move to her while the ref keep counting us.

FOUR

I climb up the table,glaring at Perle and close my fist in a tight ball and drive it down to Dow face.
But a brawl is something that she will never back up!
Her fist aims for my face and we start to throw fists into each other faces and chests while we roll across the whole table!

FIVE

LVK: Those girls are officially some of the most crazy I ever met!
Perle, we will need a new table!

RP: *on his knees looking on the floor for something*

LVK: Perle! What are you doing?

RP: She made me an autograph over that holy picture! I need to find it!

SIX

I end on top of Punky again and I slam her nape down on the hard wooden table but she suddenly tug on my hip and I fall off of her and off the table too, not before swinging my right foot at her hip and she falls too!

RP *with a piece of paper in his hands and kissing it* there you are!

LVK: is this going to end with a double knock out?

RP: that means that Quinn can be crowned tonight!

SEVEN

EIGHT


I shake my head as I get on all fours, rubbing my jaw as one of Punky fist hit me straight there.
I crawl to the ring and roll under the bottom rope as the ref reaches for Nine and so does Megan on another side of the ring.