This is a fight between an 18-year-old volleyball player and a 31-year-old biker chick -- a mismatch because the girl (Sandy) is 6'2" and the biker chick (Heather) is only 5'5". It all started when the woman started running her mouth at a hotel -- one the girl and some friends were staying for a girl's high school state championship. The girl cheats a little by pulling a knife on the women in the parking lot. She then forces her to the woods where they commence the fight.
“What, you want to fight me now?” said Heather. “And try to put me in the hospital like the other girl you beat up?”
“You’re smarter than you look, bitch. But I will put you in the hospital . . . or maybe worse.”
“F*ck you.”
Heather charged the girl, but this time Sandy lunged forward and punched her in the jaw. The blow knocked Heather off her boots. She landed on her right side. She tried to push herself up amid some tall weeds, but Sandy kicked her in the side and knocked her on her back.
“Ohhhhh.”
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” said Sandy. “And I don’t give a f*ck which one you choose. I’m having fun either way.”
Heather got to her feet. She brushed the snow off her cut-off jeans and shirt. “Where to, high school girl? You want to fight me, just show me the way to your designated spot and we’ll fight.”
“Don’t be so agreeable, biker c*nt, because you don’t know what I’ve got in store for you.”
“Eat shit, school punk.”
“Big words coming from someone I just put on the ground,” said Sandy. She shoved Heather forward. “You sure act cocky for someone who’s about to get her ass kicked.”
Heather didn’t say anything. She kept walking. Ten yards into the woods, they came upon a steep embankment that led down to a concrete structure. Heather couldn’t make out what it was but soon heard water trickling below. A sense of dread stirred within her as they approached the concrete abutment several minutes later.
Part of the dread stemmed from knowing she wouldn’t get enough sleep for the motorcycle event tomorrow night. Her blind date was picking her up at the hotel at four o'clock in the afternoon. She'd met him on Match.com. But the girl’s threats rang large at the moment. The teen really meant to harm her. She could see it in her eyes. And Heather was starting to lose confidence that she could take the girl. Despite all the exercise and training she’d endured over the years, including wrestling calves, as she was also into horses, she knew the girl was stronger and more athletic.
“Keep going, bitch,” said Sandy, as Heather paused ten yards in front of a long oblong structure, where water flowed through an opening. It was a creek culvert that ran underneath one of the roads in the distance.
Sandy shoved Heather forward. She stumbled and nearly fell on a large rock. She regained her balance and stepped onto the concrete landing next to the water.
Heather stared at the five-foot opening in the culvert, which was shaped like an arch. The tunnel grew pitch black about fifteen feet inside, and she wondered how far back it went and where it led.
“You ready, cxnt?” said the teen, as she stepped in front of Heather, raising her fists in a fighting position. She crouched down in a stance that made Heather aware the girl was more of an experienced fighter than she led on. She seemed to enjoy the violence, like some blood-thirsty mobster.
Heather’s throat churned, and the girl saw it. She smirked.
“I’ll let you throw the first punch, biker slut,” she said. “It’ll probably be your last one, too.” She chuckled. “Come on. Let’s dance.”
Heather knew she had agreed to this fight. But it was more than a bit absurd. Never in her worst nightmares would she have thought her evening would end up like this. A nineteen-hour junket over two days now had her facing some maniac teen girl, who planned to either beat her, kill her or her both.
Heather crouched down.
“Come on, Daisy Duke,” said Sandy, mocking her short cut-offs and waving her forward with both hands.
Heather threw a waist-high roundhouse kick that the girl easily slapped away. She then followed up with a front kick that caught the girl in the gut. Sandy grimaced and backed up a couple steps, then waited for Heather’s next move.
Heather feigned a kick. She then spun around and lashed her boot out in a back kick maneuver. But she left her leg extended too long, as she pivoted her free boot on the cement, and the girl grabbed it. Sandy then lunged forward, pushed Heather’s leg away and took her down near the edge of the water.
Heather’s back smacked the concrete and knocked the wind out of her. Before she could react, the teen punched her in the mouth and knocked her head toward the water. She could feel the blood trickling down her jaw. Another punch smashed her lips again, sending a spurt of blood pouring down her chin.
Sandy hit Heather again, then picked her up by the shoulders of her shirt and slammed her down on the concrete. Heather’s head spun. She watched the girl stand up, grab her arm and pull her to her feet, but Heather had nothing left to defend herself. Her legs wobbled when the girl released her grip.
Sandy wasted no time as she punched Heather in the gut.
“Uhhhhhh!” Heather’s knees started to buckle.
“No you don’t, you little c*nt,” said Sandy, as she held Heather up under her armpits. “I’m not finished with you yet.” She released her grip and slugged Heather in the gut again.
“Uhhhhhh!”
This time, Heather dropped to her knees. Her head lolled forward and her chin sank to her chest.
“I told you, bitch. Not yet,” said Sandy, as she grabbed Heather by her armpits and pulled her up again.
Heather stumbled forward. She waved both hands in front of the teen’s face as she reached for the girl—eyes squinty and her body ready to collapse. Sandy laughed at her. She pushed her arms down, raised her right fist behind her left ear and smashed Heather across the face with the back of it.
Cusssshhhh!
Heather spun around and landed face-first in the water. She tried to push herself up, but Sandy jumped on top of her ass and shoved her face back in the water.
The water was only six inches deep in the center, more than enough to drown the woman. But Sandy had other plans. She tormented the biker woman by pulling her head out of the water for a few seconds, then shoving it back in. Heather gasped each time she pulled her up. After the fourth dunk, Sandy pulled the blonde up, rolled her around, lifted her head up by her hair and punt-kicked her in the face as hard as she could. The blow knocked Heather’s head back as her boot came out of the water. She landed on her back with a splash. Sandy dragged the woman out of the water and dropped her on the concrete near the mouth of the culvert. Heather lay spread-eagled on her back.
“You’re not tough enough to go running your mouth like you did,” said Sandy, though she knew Heather couldn’t hear her. “By the way, the girl I got in trouble for beating up would’ve murdered you. No question.”
Sandy stood and reached inside the right pocket of her sweatshirt. She pulled out a blue bandana. She walked over to Heather, lifted her head up and tied the bandana around her mouth. She then pulled some rope out of her left pocket and tied the blonde’s hands behind her back. She grabbed another piece of rope and tied the slut’s calves together, just above the tops of her boots. She then lifted Heather up by her armpits and dragged her inside the culvert, ducking to make her way beneath the five-foot clearance.
In a way, she felt sorry for the biker chick. She was weak and couldn't fight. That surprised her because she thought biker chicks were tough, though she outweighed the woman by 40 pounds. The average girl in her school couldve mop the floor with the blonde.
(There's more to the story if anyone's interested.)
