FLASHBACK 2012: Amanda Seyfried vs Michelle Trachtenberg
It was, to say the least, an unorthodox contest…but nevertheless tantalizing to witness. The feud between Seyfried and Trachtenberg had more or less been a stalemate…sometimes Amanda narrowly won, sometimes Michelle squeaked by with the victory. But neither had been able to so dominate the other as to claim supremacy. They were simply too evenly matched in size, skill and abilities. It was almost like watching mirror images at war. Each would add new moves to her repertoire, only to find the other having inevitably mastered the necessary counter or means of escape. It was more than a little frustrating for the two beauties, who had come to loathe one another with a smoldering ire.
Each was known for their devastating scissorholds, as both had spent years studying dance, and the muscles of their shapely stems were magnificently sculptured. Always looking for an edge over her arch-rival…and ever-convinced of her own superiority…as the two beauties faced one another across the mansion’s large living room, Amanda smiled and suggested that they begin the fight with a dual of headscissors….
”Unless you’re afraid,” she tauntingly added. Michelle, no less confident in her own abilities…and never about to back down from a challenge by Seyfried…agreed.
And thus did one of the more unusual spectacles in celebrity catfighting unfold, as the two combatants willingly laid down on the floor, each on her side and facing the other, but laying in opposite directions. When the signal was given, each snared her legs around the head of the other, clamping her thighs down around her rival’s skull as they locked their ankles.
For the next several minutes they remained frozen in their violent tableau, each beauty pouring every ounce of strength in her body to their legs, with every muscle of their thighs pulsing with that power. The sounds of their shared distress filled the room…every gasp for breath, even grunt of pain, every whine, every whimper. Their faces, twisted into masks of sheer determination, grew darkening shades of red, as their eyes steadily began to glaze over. Beads of sweat dappled their alabaster skin.
As the contest neared the ten minute mark, it was obvious that whatever expectations that Seyfried and Trachtenberg had about swiftly driving the other into submission were long since dashed.
Their bodies now trembled from the relentless strain, and the competition had now become a test of endurance. Suddenly and simultaneously, both combatants gave sharp mewls of anguish, followed my long sighs. Their bodies went limp and their legs fell open as both Michelle and Amanda were squeezed into unconsciousness at the same time!
One of the spectators, a top physician, examined both and determined they were fine, just exhausted to the point of unconsciousness. The two slumbering beauties were gently lifted and carried to adjacent guest rooms, where they were put to bed so that they could rest and recuperate.
Several hours later, all of the guests were gone save for the doctor, who sat in the study with the mansion’s owner, who was the host of this evening’s event. As they finished their drams of single malt scotch, they got up to go and check on the ladies. Walking down the hallway, they spotted movement in the gloom ahead…a figure stepping out of one doorway (the room in which Amanda had been placed) and slipping into the next (where Michelle was ensconced), closing the door behind them. As the men neared that door, they suddenly heard the sounds of snarling and thrashing within the room.
Opening the door, the pair caught sight of the two arch-rivals resuming their battle, their lithe bodies, still clad in their one-piece suits with plunging 'V' necklines, tangled together as they brawled atop the king sized bed. The Doctor took a step forward to break them up, but his compatriot stopped him. “Let them do this,” he quietly said. “They had worked themselves up into a rage for tonight, and they need to expel it.” And so the two men stood there, silent witnesses to the savage spectacle unfolding before them.
Michelle and Amanda were still exhausted and somewhat dazed from earlier, but adrenaline and pure fury coursed through their bodies as they rolled back and forth across the bed covers, hands clutching and squeezing, nails raking, eyes blazing. They gave animal grunts and growls as they fought, and it was clear that neither had any strategy beyond hurting the other.
But the brawl went from reckless abandon to somewhat structured soon enough, as Trachtenberg managed to sit atop her foe and began slapping at Seyfried’s head, as Amanda used her arms to try and ward off the blows. The brunette knew if she could land just a few solid blows, it would give her control of the fight. The blonde knew it as well, which is why she wasn’t about to get her adversary achieve that.
With a roar of defiance, Seyfried suddenly managed to shove her nemesis off of her, and as Trachtenberg fell to her side, she tumbled off of the bed, the back of her head hitting the floor with a thud. She was in an awkward position, with her head and shoulders on the carpet, but her lower legs bent at the knees and still on top of the bed, and her body hanging vertically. Moving with viper speed, Amanda sat on Michelle’s legs, holding her in this inelegant yet effective trap.
From her position, the blonde was now able to stomp her feet at her rival’s head, and it was now Michelle’s turn to try and block the fight-ending blows from connecting, but her arms weren’t able to stop every kick.
Knowing she couldn’t endure this much longer, Trachtenberg grabbed her opponent’s ankles and with a sharp grunt, rolled to her side, pulling Seyfried down off of the bed and onto the floor. The two battlers now scrambled to get back up to their feet, but Amanda was an instant quicker, grabbing Michelle by the hair, pulling her head back, and stunning the brunette with a heartpunch that slammed flush between Trachtenberg’s pert breasts. It lacked the usual power of the blonde's striking blow, but it was damaging nevertheless. Letting out a pained moan, the brunette’s body went momentarily limp enough that she nearly collapsed to the floor. But she managed to stay on her feet…although at the moment, that might not be the best place for her.
Now grabbing her foe’s chestnut mane with both hands, the leering Amanda dragged her over to the wall, and attempted to slam Michelle’s face into the plaster! But at the last instant, the brunette recovered enough of her senses to lift her right foot up and place it against the wall, thus breaking the forward momentum. Moving swiftly, she not grabbed the confused Amanda by her own hair, and an instant later it was the blonde whose forehead was slammed into the wall!
Panting hard for breath, Michelle dragged Amanda back over to the bed and threw her atop it, but as she began to climb on top of her rival, the blonde rallied enough to swing up with her right hand, slamming her palm into the brunette’s temple.
Both now lay on the bed, battered and exhausted. Then, with no words spoken, both seemed to communicate on some wavelength only they could hear, and each roused herself enough to position themselves so that they could resume their headscissors dual of earlier that night. Ankles locked, bodies glistening with sweat, their grunts and groans filled the air as once again each tried to crush the other into submission, both determined to prove her scissors was the better. The contest seemed to go on forever, but in truth it was barely three minutes before history repeated itself. Amanda and Michelle, both already physically spent, simply could no longer go on exerting so much power while simultaneously enduring so much pain. Still, their iron wills refused to let them surrender, and thus they continued torturing themselves and one another, until in very nearly the exact same moment, they each again succumbed to the inevitable, and slipped into unconsciousness.
Twice in one night, they had battled to a perfect draw.
The doctor, after once more giving the two beauties a quick check-up and a good bill of health, carefully tucked Michelle into bed, while the host tenderly lifted the sleeping Amanda into his arms and said, “I think to avoid Round Three, I’ll relocate her to the guest house. In the morning I’ll have cars deliver each of them to their hotels…where I think something expensive from Tiffany’s will be awaiting each of them in thanks for this private display you and I have just enjoyed.”
