Better Than a Booty Call

When a man's cell phone rings at 3:30 AM its a cause for instant anxiety because one of a few things has occurred: Mama's calling to tell you that Big Mama is Avery sick (grandmother for the Afro-Illiterate) and that you need to get home ASAP. Or that you forgot to put that d@^^#$ thing on silent and now you have to explain to the lady next to you who's calling you on the cell phone at that hour. Of course its not always a bad thing it could be a Booty Call from a young lady you have been dreaming of being with for some time.

Well my grandma has already passed, I was sleeping alone and so I had to pinch myself because I could not believe the voice I heard on the other end. It was none other than the beautiful Ms. Tyra Banks. Though she sounded a bit tipsy, the overly enunciating, mile-a-minute clearly feminine tone was the unmistakable soprano of Ms. Tyra.

Recognizing right away that she had been partaking of alcoholic beverages I abandoned any hopes that the night would be my lucky one. Tyra was upset about something and when she is she wants to vent not make love. Once again I found myself in the unenviable position of being big brother.

"Deacon! I can't believe that b!t@# came on my show and lied through her f( )@%in' teeth! After I was trying to be gracious and accommodating......... trying to clear the air, trying to bury the hatchet. Humph! Should have buried it in that h@#$ thick skull." (In my head I could see Tyra crossing her arms in disgust; she was probably using a head set so that she could pace back and forth, rant and be expressive with her limbs) "I all but kissed her black African limey @$$!@ To think I used to idolize that b!%h#! , no more nuh uhh now she ain't s#!t! to me in fact she less than s#!t! to me now!"

"Hello Tyra? Whoa Sweetness, who and what are we talking about?"

"F^ck! Deacon pay attention! I'm talkin' about that B!%@h Naomi! She has the nerve to say that she never bad mouthed me to designers and promoters in order to block me from work, lyin @$$ heifer!"

"I see" I said in a counselor-like lay down on my couch and tell me all about it type tone.

"Don't try to handle me n!&@@!"

"OK Tyra, then what can I do for you?"

"Set up a fight between me and that b!%@#!"

"Yea Right" (I could never get that lucky)

"I'm serious! I want to fight her, I'm gonna beat her black @$$! She said she wanted to fight me back in the day but you know I could not do that s#!%! I was at the apex of my career and all that b!%@# wanted was to scar me up and kill my reputation with a catfight! But now I'm established my career is set in stone, I have my own TV shows, foundations, products and all that s#!%!"

"So kickin' her @$$ now will not only give me an orgasmic satisfaction it will give me Kool points with the tabloids and gossip columns cause everybody hates that b!%@#! And wants to see her get her @$$! Kicked! I think she has been begging for it for years even having fairytale dreams about it! So now I will be Naomi's fairy @$$ whoopin' godmother and I'm gonna' break my magic wan off in her over muscular @$$!"

"Ok Tyra, thanks for the visual and the cheap thrill but I think you have vented enough and you need some rest", I said dismissively.

"F( )c%! you Deacon, I'm serious! Set this s#!t up or I will go to SIMBA!"

"Well we can't have that can we?"

"Ok T, tell you what, you call me in the morning with the same request, sober and I will set up a Top Model No Holds Barred Best 4 out of 7 Extreme Submission Catfight between you and Ms. Naomi complete with wardrobe changes, hair weaves, stilettos and make up, aight?

"Deal, I will call you in the morning 'Old man' (D@^^N! I hate when they call me that!)

She hung up and so did I with a smile on my face and visions of "Sueur feminine" dancing in my head; like Tyra's lustrous caramel and Naomi's milk chocolate swirled limbs tightly entwined in sensual feminine struggle. I knew this would never happen but a fella' can dream can't he?

The next day I got a call about 11:00 AM while I was at the gym. I was using the stair step machine at the 24 Hour Fitness off Westheimer at the end of the little street between Hollywood Video store and the Lucky Village restaurant. It was Tyra, no doubt she was calling to apologize and to admonish me not to write a story about the fantasy she supplied me the night before. I was wrong about that; Tyra was as hyped by the prospect of a secret match with Naomi as she was a few hours before or maybe even more so.

"So have you started working on the match yet?"

"You're kidding T, right?"

"D@^^! Deacon are you that old?! Hard of hearing and slow too?!"

"Lil' girl I thought you were playing!"

"Did I sound like I was playing?"

"No you sounded like you were drunk, Boo."

"Well I'm not drunk nor am I playin', Deacon this is the perfect time for me to get the b!%c#! Everyone thinks we squashed the beef, they think we have matured and gotten passed it. Even if someone hears of it they won't believe it. I have my charity work, I have retired from modeling I have two hit shows!"

"One hit show" I chuckled.

"F( )@%! You Deacon (no doubt she intuited I was referring to "Top Model" and implying that her recent Oprah Imitation was anything but a hit. But what do I know, I'm a dinosaur right?) So how soon can you we this?" Tyra inquired in a demanding tone?

"OK Mz. All Bitnez", I said still chuckling. "It will only take a day to get a hold of Naomi and I'm sure she will give her approval right away. Then it's a matter of negotiating terms, rules, a private venue and conditions of the fight."

"I don't care I will meet the b!%@#! Any Time! Anywhere! Under any circumstances!"

"Tyra, those are famous last words of many good fighters. Are you forgetting about "the spear"? Naomi, Beyonce and Kimmora are the three celebrities who have perfected it and have taken out many opponents with it. Plus Tyra realistically when was the last time you had a fight."

"No Deacon, I'm not stupid I know how dangerous Naomi can be with that move but I got something for her dirty @$$!. Realistically I have been fighting quite a bit secretly, Mr. Underground girl fight man!"


"Yes I have been fighting on the underground circuit for women in the "adult industries" and kickin' much tail! I thought you knew Deacon?"

(I heard rumors but because of Tyra's reputation and standing in the community I did not even seek confirmation). "So the gossip is true, huh? I heard you barely pulled those fights out Tyra. You can't run up on Naomi unprepared she fights all the time. Perhaps a little more time to train and…."

"F( )@%! That s#!%! Deacon are you gonna do this or do I go to the Sheiks?" (No doubt she was referring to the SIMBA organization again; our rivals from the Middle East who would not care if the ladies killed one another just as long as their constituent's blood lust for female combat was satisfied and their pockets where lined with cash.)

"Ok Tyra, I will set it up in a week; No Holds Barred, Best 4 out of 7 rounds, Submission or Knockout Extreme Catfight, Victoria Secret Bra-N-Panties with Scorpion gloves (the kind with fingers exposed for grappling as well as punching". Thinking naturally of their notorious looks I had to ask, "Tyra what about face shots and hair pulling?"

"Nigga' Please! This is gonna be a real fight between two rich B!%@es, that's what plastic surgeons and cosmetologists are for!

A sober week passed and both beauties wanted the other to "come get some" as it were. I was convinced at first that this was a harmless rivalry between competing models but down through the years the "thing" between these uncommon lovelies festered like an unattended sore. It was obvious in the rules that they settled on (or the lack of rules) that each wanted to hurt the other.

One fall, no time limit, no holds barred, win would be by submission knockout (or discretion of the ref) Catfight. Gear would be scorpion gloves, knee pads, head gear, plastic mouth pieces, padded sports bras and g-string-crotch protectors. Both women braided their hair in tight corn rows and glazed their faces and necks with petroleum jelly to avoid serious scaring. The venue was specially made for the occasion; it was an elevated circular stage with cascading steps that led to a narrow cat walk. The entire apparatus was incased by Plexiglas and the decks were padded with a thick tight carpet.

In most fight situations the stare down period is used by the combatants to psyche each other out but the stares from these to beauties were just pure hatred; well that and a kind of hunger. It seemed they could taste fighting each other no longer caring about their careers, their gorgeous looks or even their personal safety each beauty just wanted to hurt the other. They both refused to wear their head protection because the wanted clear shots at each other's heads. It was interesting to see the actual length of their hair, for me their beauty was not impaired at all.

At all this I was still not convinced that the battle would be of any great significance but we were all there and so I gave them the signal to fight.

Naomi rushed toward Tyra with a windmill-like flurry of punches that mostly landed on Tyra's shoulders. Tyra on the other hand countered with great skill, moving in a circular motion and popping off head snapping straight jabs to Naomi's level African proboscis until blood trickled down onto her full sensuous lips.

I would love to report that there was a lot of catty talk at this point but these two were not interested in conversation they just wanted to do damage. Naomi was not a stupid girl so she finally dived at Tyra's legs hooking one and taking her down. Tyra now on her back began immediately to kick at Naomi's head with her free right foot; mostly only grazing her head because of Naomi's close proximity to Tyra's thigh as she traversed Tyra's frame. This was not a friendly body climb Naomi was doing damage; biting scratching and punching as she worked her way toward Tyra's stunning visage. At the same time Tyra was knuckle punching Naomi in the top of her head and banging her free heel into Naomi's kidney area.

The visceral feminine snarls and the sumptuous flexing of their now moist extremities while entangled made my referee duties no less intoxicating than a visit to a Shanghai Opium Den. My being turned on aside these pugilistic beginning plus the post fight interviews let me know without a doubt that I was witnessing the first recorded Top Model Donnybrook.

They rolled and struggle for better position, Tyra working Naomi's head and face with solid punches and Naomi Tyra's body with equally effective knee strikes. This went on for almost three minutes until they seemed to telepathically agree to break roll away and got back to their feet circling each other with hands held high.

They panted like to great cats both creating space in their mouths by half holding their mouth pieces. Both beauties waited to be the first to gain second wind and be the first to initiate the second attack. I nearly went insane trying to pay equal attention to Tyra's ample sweat varnished mammary heaving for much needed oxygen and Naomi's moist cascading abdominal wall and oscillating glutei.

Naomi was first to catch her second wind so the sexy brown Britt rushed Tyra who instinctively fired off three jabs that Naomi slipped as she moved in on the peanut butter toned beauty like a python. Quickly Naomi wrapped her arms about Tyra as if to hug her and did the same about her torso with her mighty thighs. Naomi forced Tyra to exhale with a groan then Trya's legs began to quiver for lack of strength and buckled to a kneeling position. Now Naomi had gain superior position in a combination hold; she was cheek to cheek with Tyra with her arms wrapped about Tyra's neck (Naomi's right hand gripping her own left elbow and her left gripping her right tricep).

The lower hold was even more devastating; Naomi secured a vise-like scissor hold just under Tyra's breasts when Tyra exhaled Naomi constricted even tighter depriving Tyra of any external air supply. Tyra was not inactive during this assault she was busy pounding away with hellish hooks to Naomi's rib cage. Tyra swung so furiously that she dislodged one of her succulent perspiration drenched breasts; the fury of her movement created the allusion that even the emancipated tit was fighting Naomi as it banged against Naomi's spectacular frame.

Tyra began to rock forward seeking better position; wisely she never ceased her punching. Naomi, who was doing some adjusting of her own, did not ignore Tyra's repositioning. Naomi moved her leg scissors up Tyra's torso while holding her head until she locked on a perfect figure four triangular leg lock about Tyra's head and neck. python-like pressure. Tyra was loosing consciousness and knew she had to do something but what could she do? Naomi's triangle lock was perfect and she had the perfect apparatus to hold the lock almost indefinitely, well at least until Tyra passed out or lost her bowels (which ever came first).

Ms. Banks was determined not to let any of this happen; during the first part of Tyra's life she lamented the length of her arms and her fingers but not this day. With the arm locked into the hold Tyra reach for Naomi's throat; Naomi tried to avoid it but Tyra was too quick. Tyra then began to rise to her feet locking her knees in a standing releasing some of the pressure. Naomi tightened her hold and gripped her own ankle so as to cinch the hold even more, Tyra moaned in pain. Naomi mercilessly dug her nails beyond Tyra's brownish red tress into her scalp holding Tyra's head in position for the best affect. Nothing however deterred Tyra from gripping Naomi's throat and now that she was positioned just right Tyra took her left hand and began what some would consider a dirty tactic but there is no such thing in a "No Holds Barred Match." Tyra wedged her right hand into the side of Naomi's crotch guard then with a closed fist began to knuckle Naomi's pelvis area and her clitoris. Naomi's immediately started to yelp and whimper like a wounded pup but still she did not release her triangle lock knowing that if she relented the match was over. Tears and snot ran freely down the beautiful brown Britt's lovely face accompanied by a grimace and look of distress in her soft brown eyes

Tyra was crying also as she felt herself losing consciousness but she had the psychological advantage of her tears and cries being hidden from Naomi. Naomi was thrown by the fact that Tyra was on her feet, had her by the throat and was fisting her precious clit. So she released Tyra and rolled away for her in coughing and clutching her pain ridden vulva. Tyra would have come after her but she crawled away from Naomi chocking gagging and gasping for air.

Though both wanted this to be the end it was only round one of what would be a bloody Top Model grudge match (to think there was never any first match).

Tyra admitted in their interview that for a long time she was afraid of Naomi, but Naomi now knew that was a fear long past dissipated. The fear had turned to hatred and Naomi also knew that she no longer had that psychological advantage so she would have to "Byatch Break" Tyra or Tyra would break her.

Tyra only wanted to make Naomi pay; for the lies, for the treachery, the back biting and for the disloyalty as a black woman struggling in the same racist and sexist industry. Friends were/are hard to come by in that business and "we could have been great friends but she chose to be a backstabbing bitch!" she thought. So now it was time to pay the piper and that day Tyra was gonna' be the piper.

They both got to their feet and began to circle one another at a fighter's angle fists elevated and staring each other down with half peripheral gazes while struggling to catch their prospective wind. Trash talk was now occurring because they knew the other was potentially dangerous and they were in compliance that a fresh psychological advantage was necessary.

"Almost 'ad a bit of a Kip huh aye luv?" Naomi taunted with an evil ivory smile.

"We'll see who takes a nap when this is over limey B!%@#!" retorted Tyra with a sneer and a classic Black American girl neck crank.

After this they lit into each other with unbridled passion engaging in a sizzling seasoned dance of destruction. Peppering one another with punches kicks and elbows seemed to be second nature to these Top Models as they endured as much as they put out. However having watched all kinds of females battle over decades I knew that the amount of energy and passion expended demanded that the lesser woman break soon and she did.

Tyra foolishly engaged in furious head snapping a "toe to toe" exchange with the more experienced Naomi. As long as Tyra was moving side to side, bobbing and weaving etc she actually out classed and even frustrated Naomi, however standing in front of the Nubian beauty was just a mistake!

After Tyra's head snapped back from Naomi's brutal jabs Tyra dropped to her knees dazed and panting like a thirsty doe. She was only held up by Naomi gripping her tight sweat drenched maroon mane and a loose grip on Naomi's flawlessly globular Jamaican moon.

Naomi stood above the exhausted Tyra with her feet a little more than shoulder length apart tracing Tyra's face with her right index finger dipped in a sample of blood that trickled from Tyra's gentile West African nose as a part of her taunting. "Now little b!%@#! I will teach you to try to embarrass me on your dodgy little piss ant show." "Now what to do what to do how best to f()c%! This b!t@#! up", Naomi gloated with a phony contemplative look as she considered what would be her coup de grass.

Time and time again I told combatants to get it over with then do their victory dance alas arrogance seems to be greater than sound advice.

Suddenly Tyra clutched Naomi's buttocks and simultaneously unleashed a shoulder driven upper cuff into Naomi's crotch protector ramming it into Naomi's vulva. Naomi now on the balls of her feet, her legs locked and ridged, six pack flexed, ample butt aquiver while letting off a wordy scream of babbling that could only be interpreted as extreme sorrow. Much like the strung together utterances of grief heard at black American funerals as the coffin of a departed loved one is lowered into the grave. (Example: "AWELAWDHAMUCYJESUSWHYYOUTAKEMYMUTHAOHLAWWDTAKEMETOOOHJESUSWHYYYYY!!!!")

Naomi's eye immediately burst into a flow of blinding tears followed by her toppling to the deck face first. Naomi was holding herself with both hands ignoring the fact that her face had just crashed and dribbled on the floor like a new basketball.

Unlike her nemesis Tyra did not waste time gloating she immediately mounted Naomi's back, placed a finger lock under Naomi's chin, applied a camel clutch and bent Naomi's back like a brave's bow until she heard Naomi groan deeply unable to even submit. Not satisfied with a submission Tyra did not give Naomi a chance to relent she raised her hands from the beautiful Britt's chin to her mouth then began to head butt Naomi from behind until Naomi was unconscious. Humiliation was not Tyra's MO but she made an exception in Naomi's case; Tyra stripped her dragged her about the room while indulging herself in a bit of a neurotic soliloquy: B!%@#! Gonna come on my show lyin' talking about she never said S#!%! about me! Like I'm a d@^^%! Fool?! Oh H#!! No! Ms. TYRA is havin' the last word up in this m()%#@ f()@%@!"

Well believe it or not that is what happened. What?! Did Tyra and I ever get together? Well….a gentleman never tells does he? I will say this though; the end of this ordeal was …..Better than booty call ;-)

Ole Deacon