Hobbs End Vermont, Richard Fannin’s Mansion, early evening…Leaning against the double doors that were the entrance to his newest project, Richard Fannin checked his watch for the third time in five minutes and groaned. The promoter had a group of thirty or so talents and office staff milling around the anteroom in front of him and he didn’t want to keep them waiting much longer. Anxious to see what the holdup was, Fannin was just about to sneak a peek through the doors when his phone trilled. Flipping the gadget open, he said tensely, "What’s up?"

"Everything’s a go Rich. Camera and lights, everything’s fine. Consider this place open and waiting for guests."

Relieved, he replied, "Many thanks Smother. Grab yourself a seat and just chill for a few minutes. We’ll all be in shortly."

"See ya inside." the engineer said as he signed off.

Turning his attention to the podium Stark had carted in earlier that evening, the promoter stepped up, cleared his throat and tapped the mic. Assured that he would be heard, Fannin addressed his guests, "Evening everyone. First off, I’d like to thank you all for making your way out here for the last staff meeting of two thousand six. Now I can tell from the puzzled looks I’m getting that you all have questions. Questions like: Why are we meeting at night? Why does it have to be here at my place? And perhaps most importantly, what’s with the formal wear? Rest assured that all these queries will be answered in short order, but first, I want to introduce a guest. She contacted me several days ago and asked for a moment of our time. And seeing as how compassion, understanding and forgiveness are three huge tenets of the season, I couldn’t very well say no. So, please join me in welcoming, Ms. Natalie Portman."

Fannin started to clap and the guests did too, but not before a surprised buzz passed from one end of the room to the other. Since Fannin’s accident in November, the three members of Destruction Inc had been persona non-grata in the locker room and as far as anyone knew, this was the first time since the incident that either Megan, Elisha or Natalie had appeared at a company function. Entering through a door to Fannin’s left, the slender brunette strode to the podium and after a few silent words with the promoter, she turned her attention to her peers.

Taking a deep breath, Natalie let it out and then began to speak. "I’m here to make an apology; to my fellow wrestlers, to the office staff and most importantly, Richard Fannin. Last month I helped carry out an attack that went well beyond the bounds of decency and common sense. My actions nearly cost Neve Campbell her career and they helped shatter Richard’s hand. I was too loyal to the wrong people and it almost ruined the best job I’ve ever had. I’m aware that the majority of you are disgusted with my actions and that you probably won’t accept my apology, but that won’t stop me from trying to make amends for that night." Portman paused for a moment and turned her gaze to Fannin. "If you’ll do me the privilege of a second chance, I’ll make you proud to have me as a member of this roster."

Having said her piece, the brunette stepped away from the podium as Richard took her place. Looking between Nat and the crowd, Rich said, "I can only speak for myself, but consider your apology accepted." Portman nodded and gave him a hug, which he returned despite the continued presence of the cast on his right hand. The applause came slowly at first, but it began to build in volume and intensity until it seemed that some freak rainstorm had manifested itself inside the mansion.

Somewhere near the edge of the throng were two girls who were NOT clapping. They were in fact, seething at Natalie’s remarks and wanted nothing more than to heckle her publicly, but they refrained if only out of deference to the season. Leaning in to address her smaller companion, Allison Mack whispered, "Please tell me you aren’t buying that crock of shit."

Kristen Bell shook her head ‘no.’ Not for a second. Hey, are you OK Alli? You’re not looking too jolly." Truth be told, the powerful blonde looked ready to chew glass, but Bell didn’t want to say that.

Still staring a hole through Natalie, Mack answered, "Don’t take this personally Kris, but I wish to God I’d won that coin toss."

The diminutive grappler reached out and touched her on the shoulder. "Hey, look at me." Allison did. "She’s not going to get off easy you hear me? I didn’t face down you AND Neve just to go soft on that bitch."

Mack sighed and brushed a strand of hair off her forehead, "Just promise me you’ll hurt her."

Bell smiled, formed her right hand into a fist and extended her index and pinkie fingers out at a wide angle. "Total destruction is the only possible outcome when you mess with the bull Allison."

Mack laughed and was about to respond when Fannin broke into his speech again.

"OK, now that the sentimental stuff is out of the way, it’s time to answer those questions. As you all may have guessed, there isn’t going to be an official Christmas Party this year because I’m still in no shape to host such a giant shindig. But, given how amazing the last twelve months have been for the promotion, I couldn’t very well let the year end without properly thanking our amazing office staff and the best roster on the continent today." That brought more cheers and clapping, so Rich stopped and waited for the noise to die down. "So without further adieu, ladies and gentlemen, for one night only, I’d like to invite you all to be my guests at… the Cobalt Club."

As if the words were a signal (which in fact they were) the double doors behind Fannin swung open, revealing nothing but darkness beyond. A second later, soft blue lights bloomed into existence, revealing a large but somehow cozy room that looked like an eccentric combination of art deco theater palace and prohibition era speakeasy. The floors were black and white marble tiles and the walls were of some dark, highly polished wood. In the center of the room, in a large sunken area that would normally hold a dance floor, a standard size wrestling ring had been erected. Around the squared circle were three rows of your typical steel folding chairs and beyond those were booths and stools for those guests that wanted a more comfortable vantage point. The whole surreal scene was completed with the lights; almost every fixture shown with a soft blue glow and what would have looked garish and out of place anywhere else looked delightful here.

Allowing his guests several seconds to take it all in, Fannin finished his welcome. "As always, eat, drink and be merry. I’ve got five great matches in store for tonight, so we should have something for every taste. Sarah Carter and Mila Kunis will be starting us off with some great highflying action. After that, two impressive rookies will make their debut as Anne Hathaway battles Emmy Rossum. From there, we’ll be treated to a war between blondes as Scarlett Johansson will face off with Billie Piper and our penultimate contest will pit Jessica Biel against Monica Bellucci.

“As for our Main Event, well, you’re in for an early Christmas present, I promise you! The most intense, hotly contested, Best of Seven series I’ve ever seen will come to a head when ‘Scream Queen’ Neve Campbell does war with ‘The Auburn Avenger’ Rachel McAdams." A fresh round of applause and cheering started up, so Rich talked over them. "It may be Christmas, but I’m throwing one hell of a party. Join me won’t you?" With that, he turned around and strode into the club with the guests following closely behind.
******
A few minutes later…Resetting her grip on the brunette’s wrist, Sarah locked her ankles and leaned back as far as she could, trying to deliver her gift of a hyper-extended elbow a little earlier than usual. Growling in pain and frustration as the Cross Armbreaker sent fire racing from her shoulder to her fingertips and back again, Mila balled her free hand into a fist and jabbed short, stinging punches into the meat of the blonde’s thigh. Wincing when Sarah cranked up the pressure again, the tiny brunette snarled, "Lemme GO, Sarah."

Pressing the full weight of her thighs down across Mila’s face and chest, Sarah fixed her opponent with a chiding look and asked, "I’m sorry, did you submit and I just didn’t hear it?"

Banging out an angry, staccato tattoo with her feet, Mila snarled, "NO! I didn’t give up."

Rolling her eyes, Sarah replied, "Then why would I let you go?" The trapped brunette started to reply but Sarah cut her off by jerking back on the Armbreaker again. Being careful to keep one shoulder off the canvas, Sarah worked the hold like a pro, frequently increasing and then relaxing the pressure to wear out the targeted joint as quickly as she could. Reminding herself that it was better to give than to receive this time of year, Sarah added to Mila’s misery by bending her wrist back at a sharp angle while simultaneously crunching her fingers together. Bouncing her intruding gams into Mila’s face, Sarah sat up and said, "Give up now Mila. Or I’ll have to trade in that festive sling I got you for a full blown cast"

Shaking her head ‘no’ Mila shot back, "I’ve heard you had trouble cracking a wishbone after Thanksgiving Sarah, what the hell makes you think you could do the same to my arm?" Deciding it wouldn’t be prudent to allow the blonde too much time to answer, Mila stretched out as far as her 5’3” frame would allow, but even with all the contortions, the tips of her toes were still a solid two feet from the ropes. Gritting her teeth to block the pain, Mila planted her feet flat on the mat and bridged up. It wasn’t much of a bridge, but it gave her more leverage than she had before so it qualified as a success. While Sarah wrenched and tugged on her arm, Mila inched her feet closer and closer to the sanctuary offered by the cables. Finally, after ten endless seconds, she could feel the rope against the sole of her boot and she instantly wrapped both ankles around it. Panting with the exertion of her escape, the brunette demanded, "BREAK."

Complying with the official’s order after a few seconds, Sarah muttered, "You just might."

Rolling to one knee, the blonde submission expert popped to her feet and buried both hands in the brunette’s dark locks. Backpedaling into the center of the ring, Sarah pulled the protesting girl well away from any ropes before she sank down into a crouch and posted her left knee directly between Mila’s shoulders. Releasing the hold on her opponent’s hair, Sarah quickly leaned forward and took hold of the brunette’s wrists, one in each hand. In a slick, oft-practiced motion, Sarah crossed the arms over one another and pulled back hard, scissoring the limbs across Mila’s throat in a Straightjacket Choke. Pulling with her arms and pushing with her knee, Sarah flipped hair out of her eyes and grinned out into the dimly lit confines of the faux nightclub Fannin had created. Speaking more to the small assembly of guests than to her opponent, Sarah demanded, "You ready to give it up yet Mila?"

Mumbling something that sounded an awful lot like ‘no’ Mila started banging her right heel into the mat, hoping to get the crowd behind her. After a few seconds, they did just that and soon the Cobalt Club was echoing with a good-natured cacophony of claps and stomps. Feeding off that energy as best she could, the brunette surged forward, managing to get a knee under her. Ignoring the dark purple sworls that were blooming in her field of vision, Mila tugged forward again and got both knees under her. Nodding in time with the increased tempo of the audience’s beat, Mila slowly pushed to her feet, forcing Sarah to come along for the ride. Able to breathe a little easier now, she brought her foot up and was preparing to Stomp when her blonde captor suddenly released her grip on the brunette’s wrists and shoved her away.

Unprepared for this eventuality, Mila stumbled forward and landed in the ropes. Just glad to breath again, she mopped the hair out of her eyes and pushed free of the cables. Whirling around to meet her opponent, Mila was saddened to find that Sarah was already there to meet her, and she’d brought a gift too; a hard Toe Kick to the belly that doubled the brunette up in boozy shock.

Irritated by her tenacity, Sarah stepped in and said, "I was really hoping for a Tap-Out this Christmas, but if all they had left was a Pin, I won’t complain. Merry Christmas, Mila!"

She grabbed Mila’s right arm, folded up the injured limb and forced it around behind her foe’s back. Keeping her grip tight, Sarah worked the Hammerlock with one hand while she threaded the other between Mila’s legs. Rudely grabbing an uncharitable handful of brunette buttocks, Sarah scooped Jess up for a Body Slam and held her prone. With the Hammerlock still in place, Sarah sat out fast, dropping Mila on the crown of her skull with her own version of Michelle Trachtenberg’s ‘Trachtenberg Special.’

Ignoring a voice from the crowd screaming, ‘HEY, THAT’S GIMMICK INFRINGEMENT!’

Sarah placed both her hands on Mila’s chest and pressed down hard, hoping to keep her in place for the three. More than ready to make the first count of the evening, the ref swooped down and slapped the mat, ‘ONE… TWO…’ Mila shot her unencumbered arm off the mat, halting the count before it could reach completion. Sighing, Sarah got to her feet and took a moment to snap her forest-green bikini bottoms back into place across her hips. She was about to go back to work on Mila when another voice called out, "MINE WOULD HAVE BEATEN HER!"

Flashing a grin that was only partly friendly, Sarah glanced over her shoulder, swatted her butt and replied, "KISS MY ASS TRACTHTENBERG!"

Smiling at the laughs that went up, Sarah turned her attention back to the brunette that was only just now getting off the canvas. Putting her game-face back on, the blonde stalked forward, grabbed hold of her foe’s wrist and tossed her hard into the corner. Taking a second to collect herself, Sarah shot towards the corner; intent on making sure that Mila’s stay was not a pleasant one. But Sarah had made a mistake in taking a respite (no matter how brief) because as she charged in to squash the brunette, Mila grabbed hold of the rope on either side of her and suddenly pulled her legs up, slamming them shut around Sarah’s neck as she approached the corner. Stopping the blonde cold, Mila rubbed her thighs against Sarah’s cheeks and grinned into her started features.

Openly taunting, the brunette said, "And a Merry Christmas to you too bitch" as she pushed out of the corner and twisted her hips, tossing Sarah onto her back with a makeshift Hurricanrana! Basking in the support of the audience, Mila hopped to her feet and posed for her fans. Whirling on her heel, she settled into place behind the flattened blonde and called out, "TIME TO TUNE UP THE BAND FOR A HOLIDAY TWIST ON AN OLD FAVORITE!"

She started stamping her right foot against the mat in an exaggerated manner, and once again, the whole crowd got into it. When Sarah got to her feet a few seconds later, the whole room was ringing with clomps and stomps but the blonde was too fuzzy-headed to remember what that meant. She found out the hard way a second or two later. As Sarah stumbled around to face her, Mila took a neat little step to her left, hopped forward and blasted her right leg at Sarah’s face, catching the blonde squarely across the chin with a Super Kick. There was an echoing THWAP that stood out above the rest of the din as Mila nearly decapitated her rival with the simple strike. But amazingly enough, Sarah didn’t fall down; instead she went rocking and rolling back into the corner, landing slumped and helpless against the thinly padded steel.

Grinning from ear-to-ear, Mila purred, "Now that the band’s had their say, it’s time for your Silent Night Sarah."

Acting on her holiday laced wit, Mila exploded forward in a dead run that put her on a collision course with the helpless blonde. When Sarah was only a few feet away, Mila leapt off her feet and brought her left knee up, catching her oblivious foe across the temple with a gorgeous Leaping Knee Lift. As the audience offered up a sympathetic ‘OOOHHH’ Mila hit the canvas and immediately wrapped Sarah up in a tight Side Headlock.

Never breaking her stride, Mila roared out of the corner and then leapt into the air, gliding nearly six feet through the void before gravity reclaimed her and brought her back to the canvas. The brunette landed with only a slight bump, but the same could not be said of Sarah. The green-clad beauty was driven face first into the mat, the impact of Mila’s expertly timed Bulldog bouncing her body nearly eight inches into the air before flipping her over onto her back. Hoping the lightening fast pace of her offense had finished Sarah for good, Mila straddled her victim’s waist and put her hands on her hips as the ref dropped down to count, ‘ONE… TWO…THR-NO!’ Sarah bucked the dark-haired girl off of her with very little time to spare.

Frowning, Mila got to her feet and said, "Fine, you want to hurt some more, who am I to deny you?!”

Giving the blonde what she wanted, Mila pulled Sarah to her feet and helped herself to a double handful of sweaty blonde hair. Doubling her adversary over with a Knee Lift to the belly, the brunette bent her knees slightly and then leapt straight up before stretching her legs at a rough 45-degree angle. Physics pulled her down a moment later and Mila landed comfortably on her butt while Sarah was driven face and chest-first into the mat compliments of the X-Factor. Noticing the frighteningly boneless way that Sarah flopped over onto her back, Mila scrambled to her feet and sauntered over to the edge of the ring directly behind the blonde. Slipping through the ropes, she took up residence on the apron and grabbed the top rope in both hands. While she waited for Sarah to get her legs under her, Mila wiggled her rear end the tiniest bit, she knew it didn’t take much to get the crowd back on her side and she was right.

Looking over her shoulder, Mila smiled and cooed, "I know you guys like it, but I don’t think Sarah will."

Returning her attention to the task at hand, the brunette watched Sarah struggle to her hands and knees and she began her preparations in earnest. Making sure her grip on the top rope was secure, she leaned back as far as her slender frame would allow. The moment Sarah got to her feet and started to turn, Mila lunged forward and leapt onto the top rope. She was there for less than a second before she hit a second jump, one that sent her soaring towards the recovering blonde. A heartbeat later, Mila’s legs enveloped Sarah’s head and it looked like the Seated Senton would be an unmitigated success.

That is until Sarah shot her hands up and wrapped them around the brunette’s thighs. Before Mila’s face could even register surprise, Sarah dropped to her knees and absolutely DROVE her opponent into the mat with a makeshift Powerbomb. Mila took the brunt of the impact on her head, neck and shoulders, and judging from the boneless way she slopped over onto her side, it was quite a lot of impact. More than ready to punish the brunette, Sarah rubbed the sweat off her forehead and snarled, "All right, time to end this. I’ve got a party to enjoy and you’ve got a bed in the infirmary that needs warming."

Pulling the semi-coherent girl to her feet, Sarah stepped in close and stood to Mila’s right. Taking possession of the brunette’s right arm, the blonde drew the tenderized limb across her chest and held it tight. Without a word of warning, Sarah snapped back, taking them both to the mat, smashing Mila’s face, against the mat and wrenching her captured arm at a hideous angle. The Single Arm DDT worked perfectly as another monstrous bolt of pain raced down Mila’s already wounded arm and she rolled over onto her back, clutching weakly at the injured extremity. Rolling to one knee, Sarah wasted no time in shoving the brunette over onto her belly and pouncing across her back. Laying perpendicular to Mila’s body, Sarah took hold of the brunette’s left arm and stretched it out as far as it would go.

Trapping the helpless limb between her thighs, Sarah used her left arm to hook Mila’s right arm around the elbow. Pulling back with vicious force, Sarah completed the hold by using her right hand to cup the brunette’s right shoulder and yank back, adding even more pressure. The audience let out a low whistle as the blonde cinched in her finisher, a deadly Scissored Double Arm-bar she called the ‘Sarah-rizer.’ Wrenching and tearing with everything she had left, Sarah glared up into the lights and screamed, "GIVE IT UP BABY! I’VE GOT YOU DEAD TO RIGHTS!" She added with another heartless tug on Mila’s shoulder.

Sobbing at the hellish pain that was ripping through her shoulders, Mila tried to thrash and wriggle her way to the ropes, but it was no use. With both arms tied up and Sarah’s weight bearing down on her, she was practically immobilized. After a final frantic burst of motion brought nothing but fresh waves of agony, the trapped brunette started nodding her head and bawled, "I GIVE! I GIVE! GAWWWD JUST LEMME GOOOO!"

Hearing the submission, Sarah waited for the bell and then released the hold. Getting slowly to her feet, Sarah stood over her vanquished adversary and rewarded the crowd with a confident smile. Raising both arms over her head, she clasped her hands, forming the loose ring shape that was becoming the call sign for her finisher. Breaking her grip, the blonde warrior put her hands on her hips and told the crowd, "I hope you all liked that, because there’s going to be a whole lot more of it in the coming months. Two thousand seven is my year!" Basking in the applause for a few more seconds, Sarah quickly slipped out of the ring, leaving the officials to clear the ring of her opposition before the next match began.
******
Meanwhile…Sighing heavily, Natalie Portman cupped her hands under the faucet, let them fill with water and then splashed her face. Keeping her head down, the lithe brunette reached for a towel only to be interrupted by a quiet, slightly challenging voice from somewhere behind her. "How appropriate, a beautiful backless dress for the most spineless girl on the roster."

Dabbing her cheeks and brow, Portman straightened up, looked into the long mirror and spied Kristen Bell leaning against the closed door of one of the stalls. Turning to glare at the blonde, Natalie sneered, "Do yourself a favor and keep your mouth shut just this once Kristen. I have no urge to listen to your shit tonight."

Considering the conversation over, the brunette gave her little black dress a final once over in the mirror and then strode past Kristen on her way to the door. Natalie’s hand had just touched the handle when Kristen said, "You’re getting real good at walking away from people Natalie. Maybe you could turn it into your new finisher, call it something cool like ‘The Wussies Way’ or something. Of course you’d lose a lot of matches by Count Out, but winning and losing doesn’t seem all that important to you any more."

Natalie’s eyes narrowed and her grip on the handle tightened, but she still held her tongue. Wanting nothing more than to get back to the party, the brunette tugged on the door only to find it didn’t budge. Letting out a long, slow breath, Natalie turned around and fixed her visitor with a cool, measuring look. "Open the door Kristen."

The blonde nodded. "Certainly… just as soon as you listen to my message."

The brunette’s small hands balled into tight, white-knuckled fists. "Cut the bullshit Kristen, I’m in no mood for games."

Bell’s delicate features were set in an equally cold stare. "It’s no game Portman, just a message in two parts; a statement and a question. Which do you want first?"

Deciding it would be best to play along with the irritating bitch if only to get out of here a little quicker, Natalie sighed and said, "The question."

Kristen arched an eyebrow and said, "The question is; what are you going to do about it?"

Rolling her eyes in exasperation, Portman prodded, "And the statement?"

Kristen pushed away from the door and walked across the room, her dark blue dress making whispery ‘whicking’ noises as she got closer to Natalie. Going nose-to-nose with the slender beauty, Kristen whispered, "You’re a pitiful, gutless coward."

Natalie’s jaw clenched so tight it almost creaked. Replying in a whisper of her own, she asked, "WHAT did you say?"

Bell’s blue-gray eyes were merciless as she repeated, "I said, you’re a pitiful, gutless COWARD and I want to know what you’re going to do about it."

Natalie took a half step forward, now their noses really were brushing. Speaking softly, the enraged brunette answered, "I think I’ll start by beating your fucking face in…"

Kristen smiled, but it wasn’t the endearing, snarky look her fans knew. This was a nasty, hateful thing, a predator’s leer. Never letting her gaze leave the brunette’s, Kristen chided, "I’m begging you Portman, lay a finger on me. I’d set a timetable for all this, but if you want to get things started early I will gladly redecorate this room with little pieces of you."

Natalie paused for a moment. She wasn’t about to let Bell get away with speaking to her like this, but she wasn’t sure if getting into a physical altercation in the bathroom was how she wanted to end her year. Keeping her anger in check, the brunette snarled, "What is it that you WANT Kristen?"

That evil smile faded, only to be replaced by a flat hate that was somehow even more disconcerting. "What I WANT is to break every bone in your right hand and then take a sledgehammer to your knees; ya know, give you a little empathy for what you and your crazy cunt friends did to Rich. But what I’ll SETTLE for is beating you to within an inch of your life."

Natalie smirked. She was actually beginning to feel good. "You really don’t want that Kristen. You wouldn’t stand a chance against me in a match right now…"

Bell shook her head ‘no.’ I don’t want a match Natalie. I want a barely controlled mugging. You’ve got a beating coming one way or the other, the only choice you have is whether or not you get to see me coming."

Relishing the thought of a knockdown, drag-out fight with the smart-ass blonde, Natalie sneered, "And what does Richard Fannin’s misguided little avenger have in mind? Pistols at twenty paces? Sabers at dawn?"

Kristen wasn’t amused. "There’s a show at the Yellow Sign early in February that neither of us is working. Meet me in the ring after the place closes down. It’ll be you, me and a ref to make sure I don’t go too far."

Natalie’s grin got several sizes larger. "I seriously doubt that will be an issue. And why exactly can’t we do this in front of a crowd? Humiliating you in public would be much more cathartic."

Kristin chuckled low in the back of her throat, a noise that sounded more like a growl. "Because this isn’t going to be a pretty little one fall deal. We’re going to start fighting and we won’t stop until one of us can’t or won’t go on. The number of pins or submissions won’t mean a thing and there’s no time limit. It’ll only end when you QUIT and even then, it won’t be over. So do you accept, or do I have to track you down in a parking lot some night?"

Natalie was silent for several seconds but then she nodded once. "You don’t know what you’re getting into Kristen. I’ve been praying for someone to run their mouth about my role in that farce Elisha called a plan. How fortunate it gets to be someone as obnoxious and fun to hurt as you."

Kristen licked her lips, another remarkably predatory gesture. "You better pray you’ve got enough to finish me off Natalie. Because win or lose, one of our careers is going to end in that ring." Pulling away to keep from lacing into the brunette right then and there, Kristen brushed past Natalie and knocked three times on the door. There was a shuffling, followed by a little click as Allison undid the lock.

Pushing the door open, Kristen looked back over her shoulder and said, "Get angry Nat. I already am." Then the door closed and Natalie was alone again.

Steeling herself for the war ahead, Portman muttered, "So am I Kristen. So am I." Moments later she was back in her seat trying to watch the match in the ring but suddenly all she could think about was the empty ring in the Yellow Sign Tavern, and all the terrible things she was going to do to Kristen Bell therein.
******
Back in the ring…"EIGHT… NINE… TEN!" The audience counted off that magic number with an air of obvious expectancy and Anne Hathaway didn’t disappoint. When the mob reached double digits, the tall, curvy brunette dropped backwards, slamming her inverted opponent onto the canvas with a Delayed Vertical Suplex that would have done the late Davey Boy Smith proud. Smiling joyously as the ring shook with the force of their landing, Anne sat up and casually smoothed the out the edges of her ponytail. Hathaway thought about adding a little pose to the proceedings but she heard the other brunette moan and start to get up, so she cut the theatrics short. Quickly getting her feet under her, the powerful newcomer spun around and helped her adversary up with a gentle tug of her free flowing chestnut locks. Reeling the pale beauty into her clutches, Anne said quietly, "C’mon Emmy, nap time’s over."

“Emmy” was Emmy Rossum, a slender 5’7” brunette stunner who’d been half of the women’s division in a very small -but very impressive - New York City promotion in which Hathaway had been the other half. She and Rossum had developed a rivalry as the only women in the promotion and the ensuing feud had been intense enough to attract the attention of Fannin’s head talent scout, ‘Pseudonym’ Smith which had in turn attracted the attention of Richard Fannin. Deciding that it would be a shame for two such promising talents to languish in obscurity, Fannin had gone about buying out their contracts to bring them onto his roster. As soon as the ink was dry, the promoter had the pair flown up to Hobbs End and asked them to debut against one another at the Christmas Party. They’d agreed and for the last several minutes, the small audience at Fannin’s gathering had been treated to an amazing back and forth bout pitting Hathaway’s power against Emily’s technical mastery. And as you can see, Anne’s power was definitely in charge of the proceedings.

Hoisting the dazed girl up across her chest in the stall position for any number of slams, Anne turned in a slow circle, allowing everyone to take a good look at Emily squirming in her midnight blue one-piece. Brown eyes twinkling mischievously, Anne asked, "You all like what you see?" The guests replied that they did and Anne’s grin only got bigger, "Well you’ll like this a lot more."

Rising up on her toes, the 5’8” beauty held the pose for a second before dropping to one knee and bending Emmy across her thigh with a perfectly administered Rib Breaker. Tightening her grip just enough to keep Rossum under control, Anne immediately straightened up, lifted the other brunette up over her shoulder and tossed her straight down, spattering her rival against the canvas with a Body Slam. Taking up position next to Emmy’s head, Anne snapped her black briefs back into place and then dipped her knees in a low crouch. Demonstrating incredibly leaping ability for a girl her size, Anne shot straight into the air and extended both legs straight out in front of her. She hung at the apex for less than a second before gravity pulled her down and helped complete the big Leg Drop.

Emily groaned and flopped onto her side as Anne’s thigh crashed down across her delicate features, but the injured brunette wasn’t down for long. She started to get to her hands and knees just as Anne was regaining her vertical base. Unfortunately, that meant Anne still had the high ground and she proved as much by hoisting Emmy up with another handful of hair. Her face set in a grim, determined smile, Anne reached around the left side of Emmy‘s body and then wrapped her arms around Emily’s abdomen, completing the Waist Lock.

Flexing her knees a bit, Anne lifted up and then fell back, tossing Emmy from one end of the ring to the other with a Gutwrench Suplex that had more height on it than most girls got with a Beal Toss. Grinning expectantly as Emmy soaked up the pain of her landing, the tall brunette settled into an expectant crouch. Resting with her hands on her thighs, Anne rocked back and forth and whispered, "Get up Emmy. Get up so I can show all these nice people how much better than you I really am."

A few seconds later, Emily obliged and Anne charged. Crossing the ring on a diagonal, Anne waited until she was only a few steps from her rival before blasting her left leg up and aiming it towards the other brunette’s face. The wounded grappler’s dark eyes went wide as Anne’s boot filled her vision but Emmy narrowly averted disaster by ducking low and surging forward to pass harmlessly under the vicious strike. Whirling around on her heel, Emily balled her hands into fists and lunged in to pepper the taller brunette’s face with a series of quick snapping jabs. Anne grunted and sagged back into ropes; Emmy certainly wasn’t known for her brawling, but a punch was a punch, and the technician could string a few shots together when the situation was right.

With Anne slumped in the cables, Emily brushed the hair off her face and muttered, "Don’t you get it Anne? Regardless of locale, season or weather, I’m always just thiiiis much better than you. And I don’t mind proving it to a whole new group of fans."

Emmy chested into the stunned beauty and took possession of her right wrist. Stepping back, Emily whipped Anne across the ring, waited just a second, then bounced off the ropes at her back to meet the other brunette in the center of the squared circle. When the distance between them had closed sufficiently, Emily leapt and spun towards her rival, meaning to take Anne’s head off with a Spinning Heel Kick. And the funny thing was, Emily didn’t miss, but she didn’t connect either. In one of those moments that only an O. Henry or a Rod Serling can appreciate, Anne plucked the other brunette out of the void and held her tight in something most closely resembling a cradle.

Grunting with the effort, Anne hoisted the other brunette up onto her shoulders in a Fireman’s Carry. Licking her lips in anticipation, Anne called out, "LET THE GOOD TIMES ROLL!" Busting out with a little roll of her own, Anne took two loping steps forward and went into a beautiful tumble with Emily still trapped on her shoulders. There was a meaty THUD leaving Emmy flattened out on the canvas as Anne popped to her feet to complete the Rolling Samoan Drop. Fighting the urge to play to the crowd, the dominant brunette whirled around, pounced on her hapless foe and hooked the far leg. Resting with her right forearm across Emily’s face, Anne kept her gaze locked on her old adversary as the ref counted off, ‘ONE… TWO…’ Emmy snapped her left arm off the canvas, ending the count at ‘TWO.’

Shaking her head in disappointment, Anne rocked back on her haunches and said, "OK fine. It’s not like I won’t mind beating you with something a little flashier."

Getting nothing banter-able from Emily, Anne pulled the other brunette to her feet and pointed her towards the ropes. Grabbing hold of the shorter girl’s left wrist, Anne whipped her into the ropes and waited patiently for Emily to get back within grappling distance. This proved to be a mistake because as Anne came forward to meet her foe’s charge, Emmy executed a beautiful sidestep and palmed her right hand against Anne’s chest.

In the same blur of motion, Emily slipped her right leg behind Anne’s right knee and swept Anne off her feet, following the curvy vixen down to the mat with a ring-rattling STO. Thoroughly enjoying the glassy, dazed look that currently occupied Anne’s face, Emmy tucked her hair behind her ears and purred, "How’s the head feeling Anne? Little sore? Don’t worry sweetie; this won’t take too much longer."

Scraping the black-clad girl off the mat, Emmy marched Anne to the center of the ring and forced her to stand in front of her. Lacing her hands behind Anne’s neck, Emmy tucked the crown of her skull under the shelf of Anne’s chin, bent her knees and left her feet in a short hop. When she felt herself start to descend, Emily shot her legs out at a 45-degree angle and sat out, cracking Anne’s chin against her skull with a picture-perfect Jawbreaker.

In all their previous meetings, the Jawbreaker had taken Anne off her feet, but this time around, the big brunette stayed vertical, albeit a very wobbly, knock-kneed version of vertical. Scrambling back to her feet, Emmy eyed her opponent and said, "Well now I don’t know what to do. Wait, how ‘bout this?" Settling into a crouch of her own, Emily shot straight up and at the apex of her momentum lashed out her right leg and caught Anne across the back of the head with a beautiful Standing Enziguiri. Anne’s head snapped to the side and she staggered back a few more steps, but she still didn’t relinquish her verticality. Getting back to her feet, Emily shook her head in disbelief and muttered, "I’ll be; an honest-to-God Christmas Miracle."

Quickly taking a position to Anne’s right, Emmy locked up the dazed girl’s left arm in a loose Half Nelson and used her unencumbered right hand to cup the back of Anne’s neck. Sprinting forward, Emily jumped up and sat out, slamming Anne down onto her face and chest with an innovative Half Nelson Facebuster. Muscling the shuddering brunette over onto her back, Emmy smeared herself across Anne’s chest and hooked the far leg. Bearing down with all her weight, Emily waited impatiently as the ref counted off, ‘ONE… TWO…’ Anne got a hand under Emmy’s chin and shoved hard, breaking the count with only a second to spare.

Rolling onto one knee, Emily fixed the other brunette with a peeved look and muttered, "Pushing is very rude Anne. I guess it’s time to give you another lesson in manners." Scooting in behind the taller girl, Emmy pulled Anne into a sitting position and slowly snaked her legs around Anne’s hips. Locking her ankles, Emmy poured pressure into the Body Scissors and said softly, "I know you’ve been in this position before Hathaway, but I’ve added a little something for our debut in our new home. Tell me what you think of it when you wake up."

Snaking her right hand under Anne’s chin, Emmy extended her thumb and pressed it into the hollow of Anne’s windpipe. Cupping the back of Anne’s skull with her other hand, Emily pushed forward, adding an ingenious choke to go along with the debilitating Body Scissors.

Anne’s pale face went a frightening shade of crimson almost immediately. Fighting desperately to keep from blacking out, the trapped vixen used one hand to try and pry Emily’s thumb from her throat while she reached for the ropes with the other. Finding limited success on both fronts, Anne drew the deepest breath she could then rolled over onto her hands and knees with Emmy still riding her back. Moving blindly, Anne clawed her way forward and didn’t stop until she felt the ropes brushing against her forehead. Grabbing the cables like a lifeline, Anne croaked, "GET OFFA ME!"

Releasing the choke, Emmy held the Scissors until the ref hit ‘FOUR’ on his count. Breathing hard, Emily said, "Still tough as ever. But this night belongs to me Anne. I have no intention of starting my tenure here with a loss."

Wrapping her arms around the taller girl’s waist, Emmy hoisted her prey off her feet and trudged back to the center of the squared circle. Digging her clasped hands into Anne’s gulping tummy, Emmy set her feet and bridged back, trying to take Anne up and over with a German Suplex. But Anne wasn’t going to let herself be led to the slaughter that easily and she proved it by grabbing hold of Emmy’s hands and bearing down with all her weight. Acting fast, Anne released her grip and blasted her right elbow over her shoulder, catching Emily right across the forehead with a lightning fast shot across the bridge of her nose. Smiling happily when Emmy cried out in pained surprise, Anne wrenched out of the smaller girl’s grip and strode forward a few steps. Spinning around on her heel, Anne formed her hands into a single fist and sprinted towards her rival. Bringing her arms up fast, Anne swung for the fences and caught Emmy square in the sternum with a beautiful Running Sledge. Emily went down like she’d been hit with a two by four and nothing could have made Anne happier. Roaring with satisfaction, Anne raised her right hand high over head and shouted, "TIME TO END THIS!"

Enjoying the enthusiastic applause that greeted her proclamation, Anne stalked over to Emmy and pulled the other brunette to her feet. Standing to Emily’s left; Anne threaded her right arm across Emmy’s chest and looped her left arm behind her foe’s back, trapping her in a loose loop. Bending her knees, Anne was a heartbeat away from hoisting Emmy off her feet when Emily re-gifted the elbow Anne had tagged her with earlier. Tearing free of her nemesis’ grip, Emmy stalked after Anne only to have the bigger girl recover almost immediately and charge her with a sadistic Lariat.

Calling upon all her instincts, Emily ducked under the blow and was right there to meet Anne with a boot to the gut when Anne rushed back to meet her. Moving fast, Emmy slipped into place and laced an arm across Anne’s chest. Holding her victim tight, Emily sank into a deep crouch and then pushed up fast, hoisting Anne up in what looked like the beginnings of a Rock Bottom but things got interesting when, at the highest point of the lift, Emmy violently twisted to the right and dropped to one knee, bringing Anne’s back down across the posted joint in a devilishly modified Backbreaker. But Emmy wasn’t done! After her second Backbreaker connected, Emmy straightened back up and pulled Anne to her feet. She occupied this position for less than a second before she yanked backwards and dropped Anne face-first onto the canvas. The crowd roared appreciatively as Rossum demonstrated her finisher, the oddly, but aptly named Emmulator.

Shoving the other brunette over onto her back, Emmy hooked the far leg and said, "New place, same ending. Merry Christmas Anne." Not paying attention to Rossum’s whispered taunts, the ref dropped down and counted off, ‘ONE… TWO… THREE!’

Peeling herself off Anne’s chest, Emmy climbed onto the second rope and saluted the crowd. Glancing out over the small crowd, the brunette grappler looked at several of her new coworkers and mouthed, "See you soon ladies; I’m sure we’ll have lots of fun together." Hopping down from the corner, Emily spared Anne one last look and said, "And I can’t forget you Anne. Any time you get tired of getting whooped by these girls, I’ll be happy to give you a trip down memory lane."

More than ready to get back to the party, Emmy slipped through the ropes and headed back to her room. For Emmy Rossum, this felt like more than just a win. It felt like coming home…

At ringside, several minutes later…

Billie Piper and Scarlett Johansson had been at one anothers throats for the better part of ten minutes and Michelle Trachtenberg couldn’t be happier. Eschewing the more comfortable booth seating, the slender brunette had settled into one of the more traditional steel chairs in the front row and took in the show with undisguised glee. Watching her oldest nemesis tangle with a girl who had quickly risen to the top of her ‘blonde asses in need of kicking’ list, Michelle was so enraptured with the battle that she didn’t hear the slender brunette stroll up beside her.

Casting her glance from the ring to Trachtenberg, Camilla Belle cleared her throat and asked, "Mind if I sit down?"

Michelle checked out her new visitor and then turned her attention back to the fight in the ring. "Just don’t block my view. I want to see every second of this."

Settling into the chair next to Trachtenberg, Cam took a small sip from her drink and said softly, "Must be an early present to watch two of your enemies pound the snot out of one another. Who’re you rooting for?"

Chuckling the tiniest bit, the auburn-haired beauty replied, "Neither. It is my sincerest, purest hope that they pound one another into smoldering, Christmas themed wreckage."

Belle kept her eyes on the action in the squared circle as she replied; "Tidings of comfort and joy huh? Something like that?"

Trachtenberg nodded as Billie slammed Scarlett to the mat. "Something like that." she answered. A comfortable silence ensued as the two brunettes watched the two blondes put one another through their paces. Another minute passed and then Camilla shifted in her seat, crossing and uncrossing her legs with the tiniest ‘shick’ of nylon on skin.

Michelle’s eyes darted toward the noise, and then looked away, but suddenly she wasn’t interested in the match. The gesture was innocuous; probably completely innocent, but something inside the brunette had twitched and she couldn’t shake the feeling that the brief glimpse of Camilla’s legs had been done for her benefit. Pretending to watch the match, Michelle mulled over what to do next. Occam’s Razor said Camilla was just shifting her weight, but Michelle had been challenged in odd ways before. Just in case this was one of those cases, she wanted to let Cam know the message had been received.

Waiting another minute, Trachtenberg extended her right leg and bent over, pretending to adjust the strap on her heel. She didn’t do anything so obvious as glance in Belle’s direction, but she held the pose just long enough to let Camilla take a peek. When Michelle straightened up in her chair, she flicked her eyes in Cam’s direction and saw the other brunette intently studying the grappling blondes. ‘Bingo’ Michelle thought.

Keeping her attention focused on the battle before her, Camilla tried to sound casual when she asked, "Michelle could you clear up some locker room gossip for me?"

Arching an eyebrow, the slender brunette said, "I can try. But if it’s about Lindsay Lohan’s real hair color, I’m as clueless as everyone else."

Belle laughed and it wasn’t feigned. "No, this one’s a little easier. I was sparring with Alexis Bledel a few days ago and she mentioned that your Double Leg Grapevine has never been broken. Is that true?"

Trachtenberg finally turned from the match to the other brunette. "Why do you ask?"

The cautious smile returned. "Let’s call it professional curiosity."

Michelle nodded and confirmed, "Yeah it’s true. Now answer my question. Why does my little corner of the record book interest you so much?"

The other brunette tugged at the slit on her dress as she replied, "Because it’s my record too. I’ve pinned quite a lot of girls with the Double Leg, submitted plenty too."

Michelle said, "No offense Camilla, but I’m not overly thrilled with the thought of an asterisk next to either of our names."

Belle waited just long enough for the latest round of shrieks and groans from the ring to die down before she replied. "Neither am I. That’s why I’m here. I was hoping you might be interested in getting rid of that asterisk before anyone else knows it’s there."

Michelle’s blue eyes glittered. Nothing like a good challenge to liven’ up the evening huh? Shifting in her seat, Trachtenberg caressed her knee and mused, "I suppose I could find the time to show you how it’s done. How about two out of three falls, Double Leg Grapevines for the win, falls held for a fifteen count?"

Cam brushed a strand of hair off her forehead. "Perfect, except for one little detail."

Michelle leveled her gaze on the other brunette. "What’s the problem?"

Cam leaned forward the tiniest bit. "Let’s make it three out of five. That should remove all doubt."

Trachtenberg had no problem with that. Tilting her head to the side, the auburn haired grappler challenged, "You sure your legs are strong enough to endure a three fall sweep?"

Belle tapped her newest opponent’s thigh. "Are yours?" she countered.

Michelle licked her lips. "I guess you’re going to find out."

Cam’s eyes were glittering, if an onlooker was to view them in profile, it would be like taking in a very intense staring contest. Finding her voice, Belle cooed, "As will you. Well Michelle Trachtenberg, now that the rules of our game have been defined, would you care to name the stakes?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"It doesn’t matter. Anything your imagination can produce. Just keep in mind you’ll be facing the same test after I beat you."

The pale brunette thought about the best way to humble this new challenger and came up with the perfect solution almost immediately. "All right; after the deciding fall the winner, that would be me, doesn’t have to release the Grapevine until the loser, that would be you, admits the superiority of the winner’s legs. And after that, just to drive the point home, the winner gets ten minutes to scissor up the loser any way she wants. Those stakes high enough for ya Cam?"

Belle thought about it for a moment and then said, "Definitely. But you’re going to wish you’d settled on five minutes Michelle. Ten minutes is a long time to suffer."

Michelle’s reply was a barely disguised purr. "Well I might let you go a few minutes early, but only if I see tears. There’s nothing fun about scissoring out a blubbering quitter."

Camilla leaned in close, her lips were almost brushing Michelle’s ear. "I disagree. See you soon Michelle." Before Trachtenberg could answer, Belle got to her feet walked away.

Watching the other brunette leave, Michelle was about to say something when there was an exceptionally loud ‘THWAM!’ from the ring. Turning her attention back to the battle, she pondered, "Could this night get any better?"
******
On the other side of the ropes...There was a slightly painful, but very satisfying ‘THUD’ as Billie exploded forward and smashed Scarlett across the throat with the full length of her forearm. The pale-skinned blonde let out a choked cry and tumbled to the mat in gagging, breathless heap. Not bothering to adjust the rumpled edges of her black briefs just yet, Billie ran a hand through her battle-tousled hair and snarled silently at her injured foe. Her ego still stinging from the brunt of Scarlett’s last ploy in the ropes, Piper bent down with a jerky, knifing motion and plunged her hand into the other girl’s golden locks. Digging her nails into Scarlett’s scalp, Billie hauled the blonde to her feet and immediately trapped her in a Front Face-Lock. Cranking down hard on Scarlett’s neck, Billie rose up on her toes for a split second and then dropped backwards, spiking the crown of Scarlett’s skull into the mat with a DDT. Johansson let out a loud groan and rolled onto her side, with both hands flying from her neck to her head in one painful spasm.

Getting to her feet, the vindictive blonde’s face was a portrait of contemplation as she sought out the best way to pay the curvy vixen back for her latest indiscretion. Another second or two gave Billie all the time she needed and her frown was replaced with a small, malevolent smile. Getting the toes of one boot under Scarlett’s sweat slicked belly, Billie nudged her rival onto her side and stalked over to her feet. Shooing the ref aside, Billie grabbed hold of an ankle in each hand and pulled them off the canvas, trapping Scarlett’s lovely gams at a rough forty-five degree angle. Holding the blonde’s legs prone, she had a very strong urge to taunt Scarlett, but she knew that to do so might clear the other blonde’s head, so Billie held her barb in for another moment and went to work on making Scarlett suffer.

Pulling her left hand away from Scarlett’s right ankle, Billie leaned forward and grabbed hold of the American blonde’s right wrist. Pulling the captive limb towards her, Piper threaded Scarlett’s arm through the V of Johansson’ legs and pulled it tightly across the back of the blonde’s knee. Making sure Scarlett’s hand was palmed roughly against her own shin; Billie shifted her grip and repeated the arm-threading tactic on Scarlett’s left arm. Taking possession of Johansson’ ankles she quickly crossed them over one another, effectively pinning Scarlett’s hands in place. Almost ready to go now, Piper slapped Scarlett across the face and waited for the blonde’s gaze to clear. When Scarlett’s eyes showed the first hint of recognition, Billie pressed down even harder on Scarlett’s folded legs and taunted, "Not lookin’ so tough are ya Scarlett?"

Johansson struggled wildly against Billie’s hold, but for the now the Briton held her firmly in place. Grinning up ferociously, Scarlett shot back, Talk all you want Billie, I already proved to these people that I can do whatever I want with you. How’d you like the feel of my jaws on your throat?"

Billie was silent for a moment, but it was obvious that she was bristling with rage. Recalling the feel of Scarlett’s tongue and teeth licking across the defenseless expanse of her neck, Piper replied, "You made a big mistake Scarlett. Ya ‘ad the chance ta bite down and ya let me get away. Now I’m going to teach ya what embarrassment is all about."

Still trying to fight out of the convoluted predicament, Scarlett squirmed violently and growled, "LET ME GO!"

Billie only smirked, "Just a second." Starting to make good on her word, Billie dropped to her knees and shoved Scarlett over, leaving the pinned blonde with her rump jiggling in the air while her knees and cheek were planted firmly against the mat.

Work finally done, Billie let go of Scarlett’s wrists and got to her feet. Making a little show of snugging her bottoms back into place, Billie admired her handiwork and chided, "Well, Scarlett I let ya go. Now you gonna get off the canvas or are you gonna sit there and show off yer arse to the whole party?"

Blushing a deep crimson that had nothing to do with her circulation, Johansson struggled valiantly against the human knot Billie had tied her in, but the best she could manage was a frantic flailing of her wrists and hips and aside from giving the assembled guests a better view of her butt, she wasn’t able to free herself. Growling low in her throat, Scarlett glared murderously at Billie and hissed, "GET ME… OUT… OF… HERE!"

Piper just shook her head and kept smiling. Sauntering over to Scarlett’s bundled up form, Billie placed a bare foot on the blonde’s exposed back, Billie pressed down a bit and insolently rubbed her fingers against her chest. Placing both hands on her hips, Piper grinned out at the crowd and exclaimed, "Scarlett promised she’d make me tap, but the only way that’s going to ‘appen is if I ‘afta keep lookin’ at ‘er lumpy backside."

Scarlett’s growl became a full-fledged roar. "BILLIE, IF YOU DON’T LET ME OUT OF HERE, I’LL KICK YOUR ASS!"

Her face twisting in disdain, Piper sneered, "Newsflash Scarlett, you’re tied up and your arse is on display for the enjoyment of the guests. If anyone’s getting her arse kicked tonight, it’s you. But a plain old curb stompin’ is a little too good for an overrated uppity bitch. Ya need to be taught a lesson in respecting yer betters."

Seething with rage, Scarlett hissed, "You’re not better than me. You’re the English Michelle Trachtenberg."

Barely containing the urge to stomp down on Scarlett’s back, Billie pulled her foot away, straddled Scarlett’s prone form and took a seat on her foe’s lower back. Looking down at the defenseless expanse of the blonde’s backside, Billie placed her fingers against Scarlett’s back and let her fingers walk down Scarlett’s spine to the very top of her opponent's red bikini briefs. Tracing her fingers lightly across the sweat tacky togs, she let her hands glide down to the bottom of Johansson tights and pinched the material between her fingers. Wanting Scarlett to know what was coming, Billie tugged the bottoms gently, exposing a bit more of Scarlett’s rump than Johansson had ever intended.

Realizing what Billie had planned; Scarlett redoubled her escape efforts and panted, "YOU WOULDN’T DARE."

Billie chuckled coldly. "One thing you’ll learn about me Scarlett; when it comes to winning a match, there’s not much I won’t dare to do. Especially if in involves ‘umblin mouthy little Yanks that don’t know what a real fight is all about."

Her fury getting the better of her, Scarlett shrieked, "I’M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU!"

Her voice dropping several decibels, Billie’s response dripped poison. "And I’m goin’ to show all these people what your pert little ass looks like in a thong." Ignoring Scarlett’s cries of protest, Billie tightened her grip on Johansson’ briefs and YANKED up as hard as she could, instantly turning the formerly modest bottoms into the skimpiest of thongs. Bouncing her own perfectly comfortable butt against Scarlett’s flailing back, Piper pulled her makeshift handle back and forth, letting her incapacitated foe’s recently bared backside jounce and sway as she did so.

Releasing one half of her grip, Piper gave Scarlett’s butt a disapproving glance and said, "Ya should really get more sun Scarlett, especially if you keep wearing brightly colored briefs. Maybe I can help reduce the contrast a bit, and put a whiny baby in ‘er place at the same time." Forming her hand into a flat, paddle like shape, Billie brought her hand up high and then whistling down. ‘SPANK!’ Scarlett’s butt cheek jiggled madly and the blonde’s shriek of painful indignation could be heard at the back of the room. With her lips set in a thin line, Billie brought her hand back up and slapped it down over and over in a brisk, echoing storm of blows. SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!’

After nearly thirty of these tushy-tenderizing spanks, Billie took a break to rub the ache out of her numb hand. Looking over her shoulder at what little she could see of Scarlett’s face, Billie asked, "Are ya cryin yet?"

Refusing to let Billie have the satisfaction of the truth, Scarlett blinked the moisture from her eyes and sneered, "No but I’m thinking about it. Having your fat ass riding me really sucks."

Piper wasn’t satisfied with that answer. Taking a good bit of Johansson’ battered rump between her thumb and forefinger, Billie answered, "I think you’re lying. The truth is yer barely ‘oldin back a sob and I want to FEEL the last bit of that control snap. So I ask you again Scarlett Johansson, are you CRYING?" Simultaneous with her last word she pinched her fingers together, torturing Scarlett with a tactic that would be regarded as piling it on in most other situations.

Unable to ignore the tears rolling down her cheeks, Scarlett was able to keep her voice fairly even as she gasped, "Yes, I’m crying bitch. But that doesn’t mean I’m tapping out. You’ll never get me to tap."

Getting off of Scarlett’s back in a sudden burst of movement, Billie stalked around to Scarlett’s side and taunted, "I don’t really care if ya tap or not, I just wanted ta embarrass ya." Scarlett was starting to form a reply when Billie pulled her right leg back and pistoned it forward, delivering a brutally unprotected kick to the helpless blonde’s ribs.

Scarlett let out a sickening "OOFFH" as the kick knocked her loose from Billie’s hellish pretzel hold and sent her sprawling across the canvas. Staying several paces away from her downed opponent, Billie cracked her knuckles and waited silently as Scarlett got to her hands and knees, then to her feet.

Meeting Johansson hateful stare; Billie smiled viciously as Scarlett reached behind her back and gingerly pulled her distended briefs back into a more tenable position. Glaring the blackest murder at Billie, Scarlett’s breath hitched in her throat as she whispered, "I am going to put my boot on your throat. And then I’m going to stomp down. Your career is OVER."

More than willing to twist the knife she’d stuck into Scarlett, Billie turned her back on the blonde and slowly pulled up her own briefs. Looking over her shoulder, she smiled evilly at Johansson and answered, "You want me bitch? Come and get me." Scarlett sank into a low crouch and hurled herself at Billie. Apparently, Scarlett was more than ready to take the British babe up on her challenge, but this proved to be a mistake. When Scarlett was almost upon her, Piper lashed her right leg straight out behind her and caught Johansson directly between the thighs. Scarlett let out a long, trembling scream and sank to her knees, but Billie wasn’t done with her yet, not by a long shot. Digging her claws into Scarlett’s golden mane, Piper pulled the other girl off her knees and back to a slightly more elevated state of verticality.

As soon as Scarlett’s feet were safely under her, Billie reached out and snagged her foe’s left wrist with her right hand. Acting quickly, Piper pinned Scarlett’s arm up behind her back in a Hammerlock and held the limb in place while she reached around Scarlett’s back with her left arm. Taking possession of Scarlett’s wrist with her left hand, Billie used her recently freed right arm to reach down and grab a hold of Scarlett’s left leg, just behind the knee. Filling her lungs a deep breath, Piper fought through all her aches and pains, then bent her knees and hoisted Johansson off the mat, lifting the smaller blonde up high enough so that her crotch was resting against Billie’s navel while her legs were Scissored around the Piper’s hips. Smiling happily at the crowd cheered her on, Billie let go of Scarlett’s knee and snaked her right arm across the back of Scarlett’s neck before pulling her head down into a tight Front Face-Lock.

With the hardest part behind her now, Billie rose up on her toes, executed a smooth half turn and sat out hard, landing easily on her butt with Scarlett still in her lap. The return-trip to the mat was not nearly so pleasant for Scarlett; her Hammerlocked arm was nearly wrenched out of socket and her head was bent down and forward at a hideous angle with the point of her chin disappearing into the top of her cleavage. The moment they landed, Piper released her holds on Johansson and the blonde sprawled backwards, landing stretched out on the mat between Billie’s legs. Scarlett had just been caught right between the eyes with what was becoming one of - if not the - most popular finishers in the promotion, The U.K.O.

Sliding her legs free of Scarlett’s, Billie quickly crawled up the battered girl’s quivering frame and took a seat on her waist. Placing her hands on Scarlett’s shoulders, Piper flipped the hair out of her eyes and rattled off the count in time with the official. ‘ONE… TWO… THREE!’

The bell sounded and Billie Piper’s six month undefeated streak extended for another night. Getting to her feet, the British Bombshell regarded the guests with a grin and a little bow. She didn’t hang around the ring for long though; the party was going well and she wanted to wash Scarlett’s stink off of her so she could rejoin the festivities as soon as possible. Slipping on the robe she’d worn to the fight, Piper exited via the steel steps and walked along the front row. Spotting Michelle Trachtenberg glaring at her, Billie cocked her head toward the ring and said, " ‘elp yourself ta the leftovers love." The brunette’s face remained expressionless as Billie passed her by, but inside she was seething. As much as she loathed Johansson, a small but vocal part of her had been hoping she’d be able to take Billie down tonight. Seeing the undefeated blonde humble her old nemesis so convincingly was almost too much to take.

Leaving Michelle fuming in her seat, Billie continued her trek to the back of the room and had almost cleared the throng when a voice from her left said, "Looks like you got what you wanted Billie Piper, your undefeated streak will continue into the new year."

Piper turned toward the source of the interruption and smiled. Sauntering forward, she stopped less than a foot in front of Allison Mack and answered, "Beating Scarlett was nice, but my real present comes in February. That’s when I get ta take that Intercontinental Title of yours."

The sturdy blonde champ flashed that megawatt smile, but there was no trace of holiday cheer therein. "You can’t always get what you want Billie."

Unable to resist, the Briton finished, "But if I try, I just might get what I need."

Allison’s pretty face went cold and hard. "The only thing you need is to have your ass whipped up and down that ring. And I want to give you what you need."

Billie closed the gap between them, going nose-to-nose with the American blonde. Brown eyes smoldering, the One Woman British Invasion replied, "Ya can’t beat me Mack. That will become quite obvious when ya ‘ave ta strap that belt yer so proud of around my waist.

Refusing to back down from her challenger, Allison fired back, "WHEN I retain MY title, I’d love to make you put it around my waist, but unfortunately, you’ll still be unconscious. I’m gonna squeeze you out Billie. You won’t just lose the match, I’ll make you give up your streak, and you’ll do it of your own free will."

Piper shook her head ‘no.’ "Keep thinkin’ that way champ, you’ll sleep better. Now if you’ll excuse me, I 'ave ta go wash loser sweat off me." Without another word, she turned around and headed for the door to the changing rooms.

Watching her go, Allison whispered, "You’ll be in for a long shower then." A trifle disappointed at the lack of audience for her zinger, the first ever IC champ headed back into the crowd where her wit would not go unappreciated.

******

Over at the bar…Sarah Michelle Gellar was sidled up to the bar on the west wall of the Cobalt Club, waiting for her drink to be freshened when a familiar voice said, "Hello Sarah." Gellar turned towards the source of the noise and her pretty face pursed in a frown. Drink instantly forgotten, the Slayer slipped off her stool and stalked away from her visitor. But Jennifer Love Hewitt wasn’t so easily dissuaded and she trailed behind the blonde saying, "You can’t keep ignoring me Sarah. We need to talk."

Sarah whirled around. The former champion did not look happy. "Yes I can. And no we don’t." Through talking to the brunette, she started to turn away and that’s when Love reached out and grabbed her arm.

Wearing an expression that was a bleak mixture of sadness and anger, Jen said firmly, "Don’t turn your back on me Sarah."

Gellar pulled her arm away and fired back, "You’re right, why should I make it any easier for you to plant the knife between my shoulders?" Unless you’re here to apologize for being a cheap-shot taking bitch, you and I have nothing to talk about."

Hewitt appeared to struggle to hold her tongue, but when she answered; her voice was still cool and calm. "You won’t get an apology, but I owe you an explanation. And if you’d stop being a stubborn twat for five minutes, you might get one."

Sarah’s upper lip curled in a little snarl, it was taking quite a lot of her restraint to keep from slapping the taste out of Jennifer’s mouth. "I don’t want to hear it Love. After everything you and I have been through, you were the last person I’d expect to sabotage a match. If you’d wanted a title shot, all you had to do was…"

Now it was Hewitt’s turn to get angry. Chesting into the Slayer, she hissed, "WHAT Sarah? What did I ‘just’ have to do? Ask? You were always too busy preparing for the next big threat and I was too busy helping you. The truth is Sarah, I’ve been your friend for years, been up and down the road with you but you NEVER saw me as anything more than a glorified sparring partner."

Sarah’s glare softened considerably. "You know that’s not true." she murmured

Furrowing her brow, Jen asked, "Is it? Then answer me this. Why has Selma Blair, a woman you hate more than just about anyone else received more title shots in six months than I have in my whole career?"

Gellar grimaced at the mention of Selma’s name. "You know why. Selma got in my face and tried to punk me out. It’s not like I was overlooking you…"

The diminutive brunette jabbed her index finger into the Slayer’s chest. "That’s EXACTLY what you were doing Sarah! No one can get your attention until they throw down your fucking punk card! I didn’t want to drill you with the Heartbreaker, but I don’t regret it either. I’m not going to throw away our friendship over a stupid belt, but I’ve busted my ass to succeed in this business just as much as you have and I WILL NOT let my career be summed up as ‘Sarah Michelle Gellar’s Sidekick.’"

Brushing the brunette’s finger aside, the Slayer raged, "So why’d you do it during the title match? You think Selma will be more likely to give you a shot at the gold? All you had to do was lay out a challenge. I would have accepted."

Hewitt shook her head, a slow, sad gesture. "Maybe you would have… but before it could go down, someone more ‘in your face’ would have come along and you’d have to deal with them first. I was sick of waiting for you to get around to me Sarah, so I got your attention, even if I did have to drop you on your head to do it."

Gellar closed her eyes, then opened them. "Congratulations Love, you succeeded. Now what are you going to do?"

Love smiled as she filled the Slayer in on her plans. "I’m going to take out Selma Blair and Erica Durance on my way to you. When the posers are gone, you and I can settle this."

Sarah nodded once, and then said, "You’re good Jen, but you can’t beat me. Not when it really counts."

Love stepped forward, just enough for the Slayer to feel the pressure of that vaunted rack. "Yes I can. And I will. I’ll shake your hand when it’s over, but it’ll be a conciliatory gesture. Because that title is going to be mine."

Sarah was impressed, but she wasn’t intimidated, not in the slightest. "I’ll offer you my hand to help you off the mat, after I’ve won MY title back."

Love’s lips curled in a small smile. "I guess we’ll just have to wait and see." She paused and extended her hand to the blonde. "Good luck Sarah."

Sarah returned the smile and the handshake. "Same to you. Friends?"

"Friends. But that won’t stop me from kicking your ass Slayer."

Back at ya Love. Now let’s go find a good seat. All this talk of ass kicking has got me in the mood to watch a good fight." Extending an arm in the direction of the ring, Jen replied, "Lead the way Sarah…."

And the Slayer did just that, threading her way through the crowd to find an appropriate seat to observe the action taking place in the squared circle.
******
Shortly thereafter…Working the tips of her fingers just a little bit deeper into the meat of her foe’s trapezius muscles, Monica Bellucci smiled down into the face of her penitent foe and taunted, "I promised that you would kneel before me Biel, and as you can see, I keep my promises."

The Italian Amazon finished her sentence and squeezed down as hard as she could, sending fiery veins of anguish coursing through the American’s beefy shoulders. Ignoring the brunette’s voice as best she could, the grounded blonde fought back to one knee before whipping her hands up and securing a death-grip on each of her tormentor’s wrists. Groaning with the strain of it, Jessica poured everything into prying Monica’s talons out of her shoulders, but what would have normally been an easy task for the statuesque beauty was rendered almost impossible thanks to the pain of the Nerve Hold.

After several seconds of exhaustive pushing produced no discernible relief, Jess released the pressure and sagged back, weakly shaking her head from side to side. Absolutely eating up the sight of the American grappler suffering by her hand (or in this case, hands) the curvy brunette flipped the hair out of her face and asked loudly, "Are you ready to surrender Biel?"

Pulling her chin off her chest, Biel looked up into Monica’s smug face and panted, "Not a chance bitch."

In the split second it took her rival to process the response the blonde balled both hands into fists and sent a wicked left-right combo into Monica’s belly, just above the line of her charcoal pinstriped briefs. The Italian’s Claw Hold on her shoulders slipped considerably so Jess took the opportunity to power to her feet. She had just regained her vertical base when the brunette shook off her stupor and roared forward, impaling Jessica’s undefended paunch with the broadest part of her left thigh.

Jess started to sink to her knees, deflating like a leaky balloon but Monica wasn’t going to let her impertinent adversary get away that easily. Working patiently to hold Jess upright, Monica took hold of Jess’s left arm and forced it around behind her foe’s back, applying a simple Hammerlock. Keeping her right hand balled up in a fist, Monica drew her arm back and aimed it at Jessica’s defenseless chest. Pausing to enjoy the murmur of anticipation that ran through the small crowd, Monica purred, "Enjoy your heartbreak Biel."

Not letting the blonde wriggle free, Monica pulled her arm back a little further and then speared it forward, nearly caving in Jessica’s left breast under her fist with a debilitating Heart Punch. Jessica’s face went several shades paler and her legs collapsed, sending her to her knees. Smirking down at Jessica’s bleary face, Monica yanked up on the Hammerlock, pulling Jessica back to her feet. Keeping her grip on the American’s wrist, Bellucci demanded, "Tell them you’re beaten."

Shaking her head ‘no’ Jess glared defiantly at her tormentor and spat, "Go fuck yourself."

Monica made a ‘tsk-tsk’ noise at the back of her throat, "How very vulgar! Perhaps you’ll be more respectful after I’ve squeezed all the obscenity out of you."

Before Jessica could fire off another comeback, Monica yanked her younger adversary forward and traded her Hammerlock for a snug Waistlock around the blonde’s hips. Grunting quietly, the Italian Amazon hoisted Jessica up off the mat, letting most of the American’s weight come to rest on her hips. Knowing Biel was right where she wanted her, the brunette clamped down on the Bear Hug, putting insidious pressure on Jessica’s midsection and back. Grinding her clasped hands into the small of the blonde’s back, Monica laid her cheek on Jess’ shoulder and whispered, "Scream my name you tramp."

Gritting her teeth to keep from sobbing aloud, Jessica used Monica’s voice like a beacon and followed it back through the fog that was roiling in her skull. Opening her eyes, Biel saw things more clearly than she had in several minutes and with her newfound clarity, she engineered an escape attempt with relative ease. Lifting her arms up from her sides, Jessica slowly grabbed two handfuls of Monica’s jet-black locks and tugged her head back, forcing the Italian stunner to look her in the eye. Her words coming in breathy little gasps, Biel enunciated very carefully when she said, "FUCK… YOU…"

As righteous indignation started to flood the brunette’s face, Jessica yanked Monica’s head forward and cracked her across the bridge of the nose with a simple but brutal Headbutt. Completely unprepared for this show of resistance, Monica cried out and released the Bear Hug, letting Jessica return to the mat unhindered. Feeding off the rush of her sudden escape, Jess whirled around and sprinted into the ropes directly behind her. She’d just bounced off the cables and was heading back toward Monica with every intention of plowing through the Italian when Monica roared to life, lunging forward three steps and shooting her right boot off the mat, directly into Jessica’s face. There was a loud clapping THWAP as the evocatively named Mafia Kick took Jess from sixty to zero in less time than it takes most people to blink. Infuriated that the American had been able to wriggle free from her clutches, Monica stalked into place on Jessica’s right side and snarled, "I’m going to CRUSH you Biel! There will be nothing of you left to mourn when this battle is over."

Planting her feet at a rough 45-degree angle, Monica dipped her knees in a deep crouch and then exploded up in a vertical leap, at the apex of which she flattened herself out and came crashing down across Jessica’s chest in a Splash. Laughing aloud as Jess spasmed beneath her, Monica pushed up off of Jess, if only to savor feel of her victim’s sweat-tacky tummy peeling away from her own. Biting her lower lip in a coy smile, Monica laid across the blonde’s belly, making sure the American Grappler felt ever ounce of her weight as she initiated the cover. Not even bothering to hook a leg, Monica merely glanced at the ref as if she EXPECTED him to make the count before Jessica could escape. Ignoring the Italian Amazon’s gaze entirely, the official dropped to one knee and counted off, ‘ONE… TWO…’ Jess broke the lackadaisical cover by simply rolling onto her side.

More than a little irritated with the blonde’s continued resistance, Monica grabbed Jessica’s teal bikini top and dragged her to her feet. Moving with the deliberate malevolence that had become one of her hallmarks, Monica drove three stomach churning Knee Lifts to the pit of Jessica’s stomach to double her over. When the blonde offered up her head, Monica helped herself by trapping her in a tight Front Facelock. Shrugging Jess’s near arm across her shoulders, Monica used her free hand to grab a hold of Jess’s tights. (And it should be noted that the brunette did not pass up the opportunity to tug the bottom harder than she had to, giving one lucky portion of the audience an unobstructed view of half the blonde’s butt.)

Pausing to catch her breath, the Italian stunner bent her knees slightly and then hauled upwards, lifting Jessica off the mat and into position directly over her head. For a moment it looked as though she would be replicating the offense Anne Hathaway had used earlier in the evening, but just as the audience started to count, Monica dropped her hapless rival face-first onto the mat compliments of a classic Arn Anderson Gourdbuster.

Relishing the sight of the blonde battler splayed out on her face, Monica indulged in a bit of psychological warfare. Stepping forward, she planted both feet on Jessica’s upturned rump and proceeded to balance there while she made several small adjustments to the modified suit-jacket/bustier that comprised the top half of her outfit. Finished with her alterations, Monica allowed herself a few more jiggling bounces before hopping off Jess’s butt and strutting towards the corner. Slipping between the top and middle ropes, Monica surprises everyone in attendance when she goes from the apron to the top turnbuckle.

Bellucci was highly regarded in many aspects of professional wrestling; but high flying ability wasn’t one of them. Regardless, that didn’t stop her from perching carefully while she waited for Jessica to get her feet under her. Just as the woozy blonde started to turn around, Monica leapt into the void, soaring towards her nemesis with a Flying Crossbody Splash of all things. As Monica shrieked towards her, Jessica pushed aside all other thoughts and simply brought her arms up. A second later, Monica slammed into her - but Jess didn’t tumble over, she was rocked back a step or two but otherwise she held Monica across her chest, trapping the suddenly panicked brunette in a very dangerous position. Grinning ferociously, Jessica sauntered around the ring and shouted, "I DIDN’T KNOW SHE COULD FLY!"

Some wit in the audience called back, "I DON’T THINK SHE CAN!"

Laughing, Jess nodded and replied, "I think you’re right. I guess the best thing to do would be to put her back where she belongs."

Finishing her thoughts with a cruelly taunting pinch of Monica’s quivering butt, Jessica rose up on her toes and immediately fell forward and down, emphatically mashing the brunette between her body and the mat with a Front Power Slam. Reenergized by her impressive counter, Jessica got up off her knees and took a second to pull her distended briefs back into place before going back to work on her disoriented opponent.

Scraping Monica off the mat, Jess forced her into the ropes and took hold of her left wrist. Stepping back, she dropped into a quick crouch and hurled the Italian Amazon across the ring with all the force she could muster. Keeping an eye open for any more of the brunette’s tricks, Jessica waded into the center of the ring and waited impatiently for Monica to come stumbling back into her arms. When Monica was no more than two feet away, Jess ducked down and lunged forward to secure a tight Waistlock just above the taller woman’s hips. Moving with the explosive speed that had made her one of the most formidable (and popular) grapplers in Fannin’s promotion, Jessica rose up on one foot, pivoted around 180-degrees and dropped back to the canvas, nearly driving her nemesis through the ring with a Spinebuster.

Forgoing the pin for the second time in as many minutes, Jess grabbed a hold of Monica’s pinstriped top and jerked her back to a standing position. Her movements a study in wrestling simplicity, Jessica threaded an arm through Monica’s thighs and lifted her onto her shoulder in the stall position for a Body Slam. But it was no mere Slam the American had planned! Turning towards the nearest set of buckles, Jess trudged her way over to the corner and slammed Monica forward, tying her to what no one but your erstwhile narrator would be willing to call the Christmas Tree of Woe!

Taking a small breather after Monica was safely ensconced in the Tree, Jess gripped the bottom edges of the brunette’s top and tugged it down, exposing a good four inches of sweating Italian tummy. Caressing the veteran’s gulping abs with an insolent hand, Jessica teased, "How’s that flabby belly of yours holding up Monica? Seems like you might have gotten even softer since the last time I whooped you, and I didn’t think that was even possible."

Sneering in humiliated rage, the inverted Amazon bellowed, "GET ME DOWN FROM HERE!"

Beautiful face twisting in a cruel frown, Biel answered, "You asked for it."

Straightening up, Jessica grabbed the top rope for support and simply UNLOADED on her rival’s midsection with a series of rapid-fire Toe Kicks that ‘TU, TUP, TUPPED’ off Monica’s exposed undercarriage. After more than a dozen of these undefendable blows connected, the ref stepped in and started his count, but that was just fine with Jess, she had one last present in store for Monica and it wouldn’t take all that long to deliver.

Jogging out to mid-ring, Jess sank into a runner crouch and charged forward. When the distance between her and Monica had grown slim, Jessica lowered her shoulder and leapt forward, nearly driving her right shoulder straight through Monica’s midsection with a sadistic Spear. The force of Jess’s collision finally succeed in tearing the wounded brunette down from the Tree of Woe, but she wasn’t able to properly enjoy her freedom because Jessica buried both hands in her hair and peeled her off the canvas. Dragging the mewling Amazon into the middle of the ring, Jessica put her lips against Monica’s ear and sneered, "You loved submitting me with this hold so much, let’s see how long you can stand it."

Standing in front and slightly to the brunette’s side, Jessica bent down, looped one hand between Monica’s legs while the other snaked its way around her captive’s chin. Baring her teeth in an expression that was equal parts grin and grimace, Jessica let out a triumphant roar and lifted Monica off the canvas, draping the Italian Goddess across her shoulder in the Torture Rack. Wrenching the hold as hard as she could, Jessica paraded around the ring with the Monica on her shoulders. Bouncing the hold up and down, Jess snarled hoarsely, "C’MON BITCH, GIVE UP! LET ME HEAR YOU SCREAM MY NAME!"

Squealing in pain and rage, Monica growled, "I’ll die before I beg you for anything Biel." Moving as fast as she could, Monica curled her right hand into a Claw and Face Raked the blonde’s eyes. Jessica howled in outrage as Monica tugged free of the Torture Rack and dropped behind her. Before Jess could turn around, Monica slammed a knee up between Jessica’s thighs, dropping the American to her knees with a hideous Low Blow. Stalking around in front of her hobbled adversary, Monica grabbed a dual handful of Jessica’s locks and jerked her forward, ramming the gasping girl’s head between her thighs. With Jess’ butt on display for the audience, Monica made the sight memorable by yanking her victim’s tights up in an ass-bisecting Wedgie. Jessica sobbed and tried to pull free but she was held fast in Monica’s Headscissors for the moment.

Her lip curling up in a smug smile, Monica released the Wedgie only to wrap both arms around Jess’s waist. Looking down at the curve of Jessica’s back, she roared, "YOU LOSE BIEL!"

She hoisted the blonde into the air, bringing her to a stop in the stall position for a Powerbomb, with Jessica’s crotch uncomfortably close to Monica’s face. The Italian Goddess didn’t hold her there long though. With a little push down, she hurled Jess back towards the canvas, smiling wickedly as Jessica nearly folded in half when she slammed into the mat. Looking to add a little dominance to her cover, Monica moved forward and sat on Jess’s upturned butt, keeping her nemesis folded in a tight Matchbook Pin. As the ref began to count Monica raised her arms and bellowed in triumph as the official counted off, ‘ONE… TWO… THR--NO!’ The blonde kicked free a heartbeat before the ‘THREE’ ensuring that the match would continue for at least a few more minutes.

Smacking her fist into her palm, Monica cooed, "I’m going to CRUSH your body against my own Jessica. It’s going to be a joy to feel you break in my grasp." She pulled Jessica to her feet and pointed her towards the corner. Grabbing Jessica’s wrist in both hands, Monica tossed Jessica full force towards the turnbuckle and watched in sadistic fascination as the blonde rammed back first into the thinly padded steel. Sauntering towards the corner on a diagonal from her victim, Monica reached behind her back and unhooked her top. Peeling the sticky garment off her shoulders, she tossed it aside and declared, "And now your story ends!"

Monica set her feet and then set off towards Jessica’s corner in a dead run. With about three feet between her and Jess, Monica left her feet and soared towards Jessica, moments away from completing the Avalanche Splash that was the precursor of her humiliating finisher. Indeed, Monica connected with the Avalanche, but Jessica wasn’t around to see it. The battered young woman had just enough energy left to step aside when she saw Monica rushing in to meet her and poor Monica went rack-first into the top turnbuckle. Screaming in breathless agony as she stumbled out of the corner, Monica managed to make a clumsy half turn before she was nearly decapitated by Jessica’s Lariat. The force of the Clothesline knocked Monica off her feet and sent her sprawling head over heels before coming to rest right near the edge of the ring. Knowing she’d have to finish this fight right now, Jessica limped over to the brunette and hoisted her up with a double handful of pinstriped briefs.

Whirling the devastated Italian around to face her, Jess pulled both hands back and made a show of snapping them forward to fasten a two-handed choke around Monica’s neck. Using the last bit of her strength, Jess lifted her nemesis into the air and held her there for only a moment before sitting out, landing on her butt with her legs spread at a 45-degree angle. Monica was smashed wickedly into the mat and she laid groaning and quivering between Jess’s legs. Releasing her grip on the brunette’s throat, Jess scooted forward and planted her center on Monica’s nose, pinning her with a humiliating Front Face Sit.

Wiggling her hips, Jess rewarded her fans with a lingering double bicep flex as the ref counted off, ‘ONE… TWO… THREE!’

Biting her bottom lip in a tense smile, Jessica panted, "Feels like I got my present a little early. Hope you liked it as much as I did."

When Monica didn’t reply, so Jessica got to her feet, favored the crowd with a brilliant smile and strutted her way out of the ring. Moving quickly through the crowds of guests, Jessica made a beeline for her locker-room, she wanted to be back in time to get a good seat for the Main Event…
******
Later…After giving the guests an appropriate time to get their breath back following the spectacular conclusion of Monica and Jessica’s battle, Richard Fannin climbed into the ring and waited patiently as the old time microphone descended from the ceiling.

Holding the bulky device in his good hand, Rich said, "Ladies and Gentlemen, the hour is growing late, so that means it must be time for our Main Event. Now before I bring out the combatants, I should make you aware that both of these ladies have requested that this be made into a Submission match, meaning as you well know, that the only way to achieve victory is to make your opponent submit, be it physically or verbally. Now, with the boring stuff out of the way…. Introducing first, she stands 5’5” and during the year she has become one of the most popular wrestlers on the roster. She also became the first woman in the history of this promotion to WIN a ‘Pandora’s Box’ match and in 2007 she’ll be among the first to compete in a ‘Demon’s Nest’ match! They call her the ‘Auburn Avenger’…honored guests, please welcome RACHEL MCADAMS!"

A spotlight shown on a door on the wall to Fannin’s right and shortly thereafter, Rachel Rachel made her presence felt. Gliding through the open door, the beautiful redhead’s battle attire was a mystery as the whole of her form from shoulders to mid-thigh was covered in a sheer white silk robe. Smiling appreciatively for her fans, Rachel climbed the steel steps at the corner and strode into the squared circle. Turning to all four corners of the room, she smiled mischievously as her hands went to the knot at her waist. Undoing it with a tug, she shrugs the robe off to reveal a blazing red bikini that stood out as a perfect compliment to her snowy complexion. Soaking in the cheers of the guests, Rachel raises her arms in appreciation and then strides to her corner.

Catching his breath, Fannin let the crowd settle before he continued his duties. "And introducing her opponent, she stands at 5’6” tall and in the course of the last year has defeated just about every top talent the roster has to offer. She’s been a cornerstone of this promotion from the very beginning and tonight she makes history by being the first woman on the roster to Main Event TWO Christmas Shows. Fan, friend and foe alike call her the Scream Queen, ladies and gentlemen; I give to you NEVE CAMPBELL!"

The spotlight came back on, this time illuminating a door to the left of the promoter. After a moment’s worth of anticipation, the brunette stepped into view. Much like her adversary for the evening, Neve’s impressive chassis was draped in a silk robe, though hers was black where Rachel’s had been white. Favoring the guests with an almost imperceptible nod, Neve strode to the ring and climbs the steel steps. Slipping through the middle ropes the Scream Queen brushed by Fannin and takes her place in the center of the squared circle. Making sure her back was facing Rachel, Neve slowly undid the sash on her robe and let it fall to the floor.

The crowd offered an appreciative gasp, not to mention some quiet buzz, because Neve was also wearing a blazing crimson bikini. While there was no real rule about opponent’s showing up for a fight in the same color, thought it was generally accepted one stayed away from colors favored by an opponent. In most matches, Neve wore black, gray or midnight blue. Red was Rachel’s color and judging from the mildly irked expression on her face, Rachel wasn’t pleased with Neve sampling from her wardrobe. It was hard to say if the dirty look bothered Neve because the Scream Queen never looked at Rachel. With the robe properly discarded, she headed for her corner and waited for the match to begin.

BONG!

The as of yet unseen bell chimed a single, solitary note and the Main Event was officially underway. Rachel took several deep breaths and tried to steady her thoughts. She knew that the Scream Queen was capable of beating her; after all, she’d done it three times before. So Neve deserved all her focus but Rachel’ couldn’t stop thinking about another brunette; one in the audience. It would be a mistake to let Katie Holmes’ presence get in her head, but try as she might, Rachel couldn’t shake the urge to make an example of Neve, to toss her at Holmes’ feet as a warning. Of course, Neve wouldn’t just let that happen! She’d fight tooth and nail until one of them could no longer stand. It seemed certain that this would be a fight to the finish, and that was something that Rachel had been looking for ever since her humiliating ‘win’ in Pandora’s Box. The thought that it might be Neve who bore the brunt of her rage had never occurred to her, but she couldn’t say it didn’t have a certain dark appeal. The redhead smiled, turning her cool blue gaze to the young woman on the other side of the ring.

Rachel stepped away from the buckles and murmured, "No more questions, no more doubts, no more holding back. We’re going to finish this tonight Neve. I hope to God you’re ready for this fight because if you aren’t…." she trailed off into silence and stalked forward, setting herself on a collision course with Scream Queen.

On the opposite side of their arena, Neve Neve’s thoughts were eerily similar. She KNEW Elisha wasn’t in attendance, even Rich wasn’t so forgiving he’d let the girl who smashed his hand show up at the Christmas Party, but somehow Neve could still feel the blonde’s presence and it made her angry. And while a little bit of anger was a good thing (sometimes a great thing) Neve had been wrestling long enough to know that anger caused stupid mistakes and those were to be avoided against a girl who had already demonstrated that she could pin your shoulders to the mat. Still, her anger wouldn’t fade and the Scream Queen decided not to fight it any longer. Operating at a slow, barely controlled boil, the brunette recalled Rachel’s previous wins and used them to focus her rage on the redhead. Rachel may not be Elisha, but she was after the same thing, and Neve sure as hell wasn’t going to let her position be usurped by either, even if that meant taking years off their careers.

Comforted by the steadiness of that cold thought, Neve quieted all the other voices in her head, rolled her shoulders and stepped out of her corner. Setting her eyes on Rachel, the Scream Queen whispered, "You’re going to be the message I send to Elisha, Rachel Rachel. And to tell you the truth, I couldn’t think of anyone else I’d want for the job." Neve strode away from her corner to meet Rachel at center ring.

The brunette and redhead came within grappling distance and unlike earlier fights on the card, there was no feeling out between these two rivals. Each knew the other’s style as well as they knew their own; and even if they hadn’t, Neve and Rachel weren’t in the mood for cautious circling. Someone needed to hurt and they needed it to be the other…NOW. The second their fingers brushed, the Scream Queen and the Auburn Avenger lunged forward and applied a tight Collar and Elbow Tie-Up. They shoved forward, putting all their considerable strength into the simple contest as biceps strained, foreheads rubbed and thighs trembled. But neither was able to gain an advantage, at least not this early. Totally oblivious to everything around them, the rivals stamped their way around the ring, smearing backs and buttocks against the ropes, careening off the turnbuckles and nearly bowling over the official several times in the process.

Through it all, Neve and Rachel remained silent, save for a few moist grunts and breathy sighs. The truth of the matter was, they already had enough voices in their head and neither thought it necessary to add to that number. The stalemate continued in this fashion for more than a minute and looked to be well on its way to the two minute mark when Rachel’s right foot passed over a rough spot on the canvas, causing her to stumble the tiniest bit. That was all Neve needed and before Rachel knew what had happened, the brunette twisted her around and bull-rushed her to the nearest corner. Cursing under her breath, Rachel refused to let Neve take their first skirmish, no matter how inconsequential it was. Trying her best to halt their momentum, Rachel shifted her grip on Neve’s left shoulder up just enough to feel the Scream Queen’s hair on her fingers.

Without thinking, Rachel sank her hands into her rival’s thick mane and tugged savagely to her left. Neve let loose with a pained yelp that quickly transformed into a groan when the redhead reversed their positions and pasted her against the buckles. Releasing her hold on the Scream Queen’s hair, Rachel pressed in tight against the other woman and sneered softly, "I don’t care what it takes Neve. You WON’T beat me tonight."

Rachel gave the brunette’s shoulders a final hard shove before backing up with her hands up at her shoulders to indicate the clean break. Still wincing at the burning sensation in her scalp, Neve managed to hold her anger in check, but she’d be lying if she said it was easy. Keeping her eyes locked on Rachel, the pale beauty sank into a wrestler’s crouch and curled her fingers at the redhead, inviting her to do the same. When Rachel accepted her challenge, Neve lunged forward but she didn’t go for another clinch. Instead, she darted her right hand between Rachel’ defenses and grabbed a handful of dark red hair.

Yanking with much more vigor than she’d normally use, Neve smirked a little as she wrapped her nemesis up in a tight Side Headlock. Squeezing Rachel’s skull in the crook of her elbow, Neve managed about three steps before her captive shot her free hand up and secured another huge handful of hair. Neve grimaced and choked back a snarl as Rachel pulled, forcing her head back at a sharp angle. More than willing to match the redhead move for move, Neve used the hand that had been cupping the top of Rachel’s skull to grab hold of her foe’s locks and shake them like a terrier shakes a rat.

Rachel ‘unngghed’ in discomfort and that made the Scream Queen very happy. But her happiness couldn’t hide the fact that the hair pull was an illegal move and shortly after the follicular Tug of War had begun, the official stepped in and started his count. Normally Neve would have released her hold on Rachel’s locks just after ‘ONE’ but she was uncharacteristically vindictive tonight and kept pulling until ‘FOUR.’ When the ref got really insistent, Neve released the hair and the head where it rested simultaneously.

Rubbing her chin, Rachel brushed a cascade of crimson tresses out of her eyes and glared angrily at the brunette. Regarding Neve from a few paces away, she asked, "Do you really think I won’t play rough?"

Neve responded with an almost imperceptible shrug of her shoulders. "I don’t really care how you play Rachel. In the end, it won’t make any difference."

Seething at the none too subtle dismissal of her wrestling prowess, Rachel surged forward and went low, wrapping her hands around the brunette’s right leg. Stepping back and pulling up at the same time, Rachel demonstrated her knowledge of the basics by dumping Neve onto her back with an extremely fast Single Leg Takedown. Dead-set on teaching her rival a little humility, Rachel rolled Neve onto her belly and pounced, throwing herself down across the Scream Queen’s back. Keeping all her weight pressed across the brunette, Rachel allowed Neve to get to her hands and knees then twisted to her left, rolling Neve onto her left side. Again, the brunette righted herself, this time attempting to sit out of Rachel’s Gut Wrench but the redhead would have none of it and clung tenaciously to Neve’s hips. When her foe stopped to take a breath, Rachel glanced up and noticed that Neve’s hands were only a few feet from the bottom cable. Laying her cheek down between Neve’s shoulders, Rachel said softly, "Hey loser, the ropes are in front of you."

The brunette’s head jerked up and she plowed forward, tugging Rachel along behind her. A second later, Neve demanded, "BREAK" and the redhead gave her what she asked for.

Releasing the Waistlock, Rachel shoved the Scream Queen over onto her back and scrambled up her prone frame. Stopping when her crotch was brushing Neve’s chin, Rachel reached down and tweaked Neve’s nose. Grinning as her nemesis fumed, Rachel’ voice dripped challenge as she asked, "You starting to care how rough I play it Neve?"

When Neve opened her mouth to reply, the redhead pushed up off her, making sure both hands palmed the Scream Queen’s flushed face as she did so. Strutting back to the center of the ring, Rachel smoothed out the edges of her sporty red bikini and waited for Neve to get to her feet. A few seconds later, she did and even at a distance, Rachel could see the sparks in those dark eyes.

Settling into her crouch once more, Neve beckoned Rachel in, asking, "You wanna try that again?" Rachel nodded.

"Yes I do." she purred. The redhead’s words were still coming out of her mouth when she roared forward to meet her foe and like the last two times, the clinch was textbook in execution while the intensity was anything but. Just when the audience decided it was OK to breathe, Neve broke her grip and whirled around behind her startled adversary. Rachel started to turn into her challenger but it was too little, too late. Before Rachel could even make it halfway around, Neve dropped down, gripped the redhead around the ankles and jerked her legs out from under her, sending the Auburn Avenger crashing onto the canvas. While the guests were between breaths, Neve poured herself across Rachel’s back, sliding up until she was straddling the prostrate girl’s upper back. Digging her hands into Rachel’ shoulders, Neve hissed, "THIS’s how you play rough sweetie."

Demonstrating that sudden speed that made her so dangerous, Neve administered four ear-ringing SLAPs to the back of Rachel’s head, paying special attention to muss the redhead’s mane as thoroughly as she could. When Rachel’ grunted and tried to buck her way free, Neve splayed out full length and spun around 180-degrees, essentially using nothing but her abs as the pivot point. Resuming her straddle facing the redhead’s legs, Neve took the edges of Rachel’s togs in both hands and pulled up violently, nearly baring her buns with a totally disrespectful Wedgie.

Sawing the distended garment up and down, Neve slapped Rachel’s thrashing glutes with one hand and cooed, "There’s plenty more where this came from, sweetcheeks."

She stood up and stalked away, blatantly ignoring her nemesis as Rachel regained her vertical base. Gingerly pulling her togs back into the proper alignment, Rachel had to give credit to Neve for one thing. For the first time in months, the redhead wasn’t preoccupied with Katie Holmes or Alyson Hannigan. In the span of a few seconds, Neve had been able to redirect all of Rachel’s rage onto her and that gave her a clarity she hadn’t had in a very long time. Deciding to thank her adversary properly, Rachel stalked forward and went nose-to-nose with the brunette. Not bothering to disguise her fury any longer, Rachel spat, "I want you to know right now, your time as the measuring stick for talent in this promotion ends tonight. I’m going to HURT you. I’m going to EMBARRASS you. And I won’t need any weapons or gimmicks to do it. I’m going to take everything that makes you, you, and spatter it all over the canvas."

Matching the redhead’s anger with some of her own, Neve chested into her opponent and fired back, "When the time comes for me to leave this promotion, I’ll do it on my own terms, not those imposed by a delusional wannabe. The record book may say we’re tied Rachel, but they lie all the time. When these people see you laying broken and sobbing at my feet, they’ll see that the so called gap between us is actually a gulf. But you’re welcome to prove me wrong, maybe your good friend Alyson can show up and help out."

THAT was the exact wrong thing to say to Rachel at the moment. Roaring her fury, Rachel lashed her right arm out in a wild Clothesline aimed at Neve’s jaw. But the emotional reaction was just what Neve had expected and she was ready for Rachel’s strike. Ducking low, the Scream Queen whipped around behind the off-balance beauty and wrapped her up in a tight Waistlock. Smiling wickedly, Neve planted her feet and popped her hips, taking the redhead up and over with a German Suplex. Rachel hit hard on her head and shoulders, her legs thrown back over her head, toes touching the canvas for a moment before she slumped over onto her side. Rolling onto one knee, Neve launched herself onto Rachel back, assuming a tight straddle as she tried to snake her left arm under the redhead’s chin to secure the f.

Though still reeling from the German Suplex, Rachel realized what Neve was trying and knew she wanted no part of it. Digging her chin into her chest, Rachel clawed at the brunette’s forearm with one hand while she used her free hand to claw her way across the mat. Desperate not to give up her throat, the Auburn Avenger flailed around until she felt the bottom rope against her fingers. Roaring in triumph, Rachel surged forward and gripped it like a lifeline. Panting hard, the redhead shouted, "LEMME GO!"

Pulling her arm away from Rachel’s throat, Neve taunted, "Not just yet Rache." Sinking her hands into Rachel’s dark locks, Neve got to her feet, pulled the redhead along for the ride and then wedged Rachel’ head between her thighs. Letting go of Rachel’s hair, Neve reached down and trapped her arms in a nearly inescapable loop. Clasping her hands together, she snarled, "On the ground or standing up, I’ll kick your ass either way Rachel."

Neve bent her knees and lifted up fast, hauling Rachel off her feet. The trapped redhead was held aloft in Neve’s grip for a few seconds before she slammed down spine-first courtesy of the brunette’s Double Underhook Suplex. The moment Neve’s back hit the canvas; she unlocked her hands, somersaulted backwards across the redhead’s chest and popped to her feet. Pulling the dazed girl to her feet, Neve took her left wrist and Whipped her into the ropes. Watching for any signs of resistance, Neve waited until Rachel was almost on top of her before spinning around behind the redhead. Staying close, Neve pressed in tight against Rachel’s back and reached around her opponent’s body with her right leg so it looped around Rachel’s side and between her legs, hooking Rachel’s right leg with the entangling limb. Then, using both hands, she pushed down on Rachel’s head and neck, stretching the trapped redhead’s torso painfully across Neve’s knee. The Abdominal Stretch was locked in perfectly and Neve poured on the pressure, wrenching the redhead’s torso at a hideous angle. Working the stretch as stiff as she could, Neve demanded. "QUIT!"

Rachel shook her head ‘no’ and snarled, ‘Fuck you!"

Curling her free hand into a claw, Neve dug her fingers into Rachel’s exposed belly and raaaaaked her talons along the smooth white flesh. "What was that?"

Shaking hair out of her eyes, Rachel screamed, "FUCK YOU!"

Pulling her hand away from Rachel’s paunch, Neve cupped the redhead’s left breast and squeezed as hard as she could. Jiggling her claw, the Scream Queen asked, "That all you got bitch?"

Wincing through the pain of Neve’s dual holds, Rachel gasped, "When I get out of here, I’m going to FUCK YOU UP!"

Mauling the redhead’s defenseless rack for a few more seconds, Neve suddenly disengaged from the Abdominal Stretch only to tie up Rachel with a Full Nelson. Reefing down on the redhead’s neck, Neve tugged her foe back and forth, putting Rachel on display with one of her own favorite submissions. Gulping her hips against the redhead’s taut buttocks, Neve purred, "What’s the matter Rachel can’t get free? I thought this was supposed to be your best movUNNNNGH!"

Rachel cut off her nemesis with another simple move, namely a vicious Mule Kick between the thighs. Neve’s grip fell away leaving her stutter-stepping and helpless as the redhead spun around to face her. Snarling callously, Rachel charged forward and when she was less than a foot from the brunette, Rachel lifted her right knee and spun into her victim. There was a viciously meaty THUMP as Neve was impaled on Rachel’s knee and flipped over the intruding limb to land flat on her back.

Voicing her pleasure with a sibilant hiss, the redhead stalked over to her felled opponent and pulled her to her feet with a fistful of hair. Shaking Neve’s head back and forth, Rachel forced the Scream Queen to bend double in preparation for her next bit of offense. Controlling Neve’s head with her left hand, Rachel raised her right arm over her head and flexed it, lining up the point of her elbow with the base of her opponent’s neck. Pretty face contorting in a ferocious snarl, Rachel brought her elbow down once, twice, three times, connecting with the same spot each time. After the third Elbow Smash, Neve’s legs started to waver and she sank to one knee, but that didn’t mean Rachel was going to let her fall. Tugging the brunette’s head into place, Rachel brought her elbow up a fourth time held it there. Breathing hard, the redheaded warrior spat, "That’s right Neve. Kneel. Show some humility and I might let you leave this ring with a fraction of your dignity still intact."

The last syllables were still hanging in the air when she brought the bony joint smashing down across Neve’s neck. There was a dull but ominous PEK followed by a groan from Neve and that was followed by another massive yank of the hair by Rachel. Forcing the spaghetti-legged girl back to her feet, Rachel bent Neve over and cupped her chin with both hands. Looking to continue the work she’d started on the brunette’s neck, Rachel tightened her grip on Neve’s chin and twisted around, forcing the two wrestlers into a back-to-back position, with Neve’s trapped head resting snugly against the point of Rachel’s right shoulder. Pulling the Scream Queen in as close as she could, Rachel purred, "Told you I was gonna fuck you up Neve. And this is just the beginning. The pain will be a whole lot worse by the time this match is over."

Electing to not allow Neve a response, the Auburn Avenger sat out fast and hard, wrenching the base of Neve’s neck back across her shoulder with a beautiful Reverse Neckbreaker. The move had a terrible whiplash effect on the brunette’s neck, as evidenced how fast she curled up onto her side and covered her head with both hands in a vain attempt to protect it from more harm. This tactic would have worked perfectly if not for the presence of another wrestler in the ring, specifically, one that wanted to do all sorts of terrible things to the injured brunette. Enjoying the way Neve’s head had snapped off her shoulder when they hit the mat, Rachel tore her way through the Scream Queen’s pitiful defenses and took possession of her hair once more.

Peeling the brunette off the canvas, Rachel immediately switched her grip to Neve’s chin and spun her into place for a second Reverse Neckbreaker. Adding a bit more show to the presentation this time around, Rachel rubbed her backside against her rival’s and asked, "ONE MORE TIME?"

One of the more vocal guests (later reports indicated it might have been Simguy) answered, "SURE, WHY NOT?"

Grinning, Rachel continued her grind as she cooed, "You heard the man Neve. Hold on tight, the landing is a bitch."

The redhead took a single giant step forward and sat out a second time, adding a little more impact to her second application of the Reverse Neckbreaker. Resting on her haunches, Rachel brushed the hair off her face and glanced over at her opponent. Noting the deliciously prostrate way the brunette had landed; Rachel crawled onto Neve’s back and straddled her at the waist. Planting her left hand on the mat beside Neve’s head, the redhead brushed the hair off the back of her foe’s neck in a gesture that was at least gentle, if not kind. But kindness was the last thing on Rachel’s mind, she just wanted to humiliate Neve the way she’d been humiliated earlier in the fight. Leaning on both hands now, Rachel leaned down until her lips were less than three inches from Neve’s exposed neck. Blowing softly, Rachel moved up, puffing a light breeze from Neve’s shoulders all the way up to her hairline. Leaning in a little closer, Rachel put her lips against the brunette’s ear and whispered, "You should never offer your back Neve; it’s a sign of surrender."

Hating the feel of Rachel’s weight bearing down on her, Neve grumbled, "Fuck You."

Rachel smiled, "That’s my line, loser." The redhead bit down on Neve’s ear, not enough to break the skin, but hard enough to make the brunette squirm. Pulling her jaws from Neve’s face, Rachel rose up on one knee and said, "That was fun, but I think it’s time to get back to the task at hand; namely, stretching your sorry ass over every inch of this mat." Taking one of Neve’s wrists in each hand, the redhead got to her feet and planted her right foot between the Scream Queen’s shoulders, doing her best to tear the brunette’s arms out of socket with the Standing Surfboard. Simultaneously stepping down and yanking back as hard as she could, Rachel pulled Neve’s upper body off the mat, and even though no one could see the brunette’s face through the thick tangle of her hair, the loud screams coming from the leggy girl made guessing her feelings no challenge at all. Relishing the sensation of her boot grinding Neve into the mat, Rachel pulled back a little harder on the Surfboard before asking snidely, "You ready to give it up Neve?"

Thrashing her head in a frantic gesture that looked like ‘no’ Neve roared, "YOU DON’T HAVE WHAT IT TAKES TO MAKE ME TAP RACHEL!" and tried to tug her way free, but Rachel held fast.

Rachel’s face went from pert to malevolent in a flash as she released the tension on Neve’s arms for a moment before redoubling her efforts to cripple the brunette. Ignoring Neve’s cries, Rachel taunted, "I don’t have what it takes to make you tap? That’s odd; I seem to have enough to make you squeal like a little bitch. I’d have guessed the two weren’t very far removed from one another."

Blinking back tears, Neve growled, "Enjoy this while you can Rachel, because I’ll make you scream before we’re done!"

Breathing hard, Rachel replied, "Maybe when I’ve mounted your face; but even then I don’t think you’ll be good enough."

The cruel barb was still leaving her lips when she suddenly removed her foot from the brunette’s back. With no pressure holding her down, Neve’s upper half was lifted off the mat by almost a foot. When she’d lifted Neve as far as gravity would allow, Rachel let go, sending Neve into a short freefall that ended with her head and chest hitting the canvas with a muffled THUMP. As soon as Neve’s upper half had rejoined the rest of her on the mat, Rachel scooted into position on the brunette’s right side and leapt into the air. Sticking her legs straight out in front of her, the Auburn Avenger returned to the ground and brought Neve a present in the form a Leg Drop across the back of her head.

Rolling off Neve’s quaking frame, the redhead was about to say something when she felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise. Knowing that gaze anywhere, Rachel looked over her shoulder and spied Katie Holmes watching from the second row. Trying and failing to control her hatred for the tall brunette, Rachel kept her eyes locked on Holmes as she jerked Neve to her feet and trapped her in a tight Front Facelock. Staring a hole through the silent brunette, Rachel pointed her unencumbered hand at Holmes and said, "This one’s for you bitAAAHHHHNNGH!"

Rachel got cut off when a heretofore out of it Neve shot both arms up and locked them around the redhead’s waist. In the same instant, the Scream Queen bridged up and back, tossing Rachel to the other side of the squared circle with a Release Northern Lights Suplex. Understanding that Rachel had been distracted by some outside influence, Neve’s rolled off her back and stared hatefully at the woozy redhead. Waiting for Rachel to get to her hands and knees, Neve backed up half a dozen steps, then sprinted forward and snapped her left leg up, catching Rachel right in the temple with the point of her knee. Rachel was spun around in a drunken lurch by the force of the strike and her normally sturdy limbs failed her, resulting in a shorter but no less painful return trip to the mat. Adjusting her kneepad, Neve glanced over her shoulder; saw Katie clapping and mouthed, ‘Keep out of this.’

Holmes’ lips turned up in the faintest suggestion of a smile, mouthed back, ‘She’s all yours.’

Neve returned her attention to Rachel, pulling the battered girl to her feet and marching her to the center of the ring. Making sure that Holmes would get a good view of what came next; Neve buried her boot in Rachel’s navel and then dumped the breathless girl onto her ass with a simple Snap Mare. Sitting down behind her foe, Neve reached forward and took hold of Rachel’s wrists, grabbing one in each hand. Pulling the redhead’s arms out behind her, Neve lay back on the canvas and brought her legs up around Rachel’s arms, making sure the insides of her knees were roughly level with Rachel’s armpits. Almost done now, Neve crossed her ankles at the base of the redhead’s neck and pressed down, cinching the Lotus Lock in tight.

Despite the convoluted set-up, the Lotus was really nothing more than a Full Nelson applied with the legs, but given the limber brunette’s leg strength, it didn’t need any other gimmicks attached. Letting go of Rachel’s wrists, Neve put her hands palms down on the mat and rose up, adding even more pressure to the hold. Watching coldly as Rachel’s legs started to flail helplessly, Neve only took that as more motivation to continue her torture and she crushed down as tightly as she could. The brunette didn’t normally consider herself a vindictive fighter, but there was just something about Rachel that inspired her to work as stiff and unforgiving as she could.

Working her constrictions in time with Rachel’s breathing, Neve waited for Rachel to quiet down before she taunted, "Still think your Full Nelson is strong Rachel? How does it stack up against the Lotus?"

Defiant despite the crippling pain in her neck and shoulders, Rachel growled, "You’ll find out when I fuckin’ BREAK you with it!"

Settling back down on her butt, Neve replied, "You won’t get the chance honey. I’m going to submit you right now." Attempting to do just that, Neve reached forward and slowly laid both hands across the swell of Rachel’s chest. Easily locating the redhead’s nipples through the slick fabric of her bikini top, Neve purred, "Remember what this feels like the next time you want to chew on my fucking ear."

Then she clamped down hard on the soft flesh, pinching and twisting the hard nubs to their elastic limits! Rachel could do nothing but shriek in pure, unadulterated agony. Suffering through the dual torment of Neve’s Breast Claw/Lotus Lock; the thought that kept Rachel from submitting was how much Katie must be enjoying this. Determined to thwart the nemesis outside the ring as well as the nemesis within, Rachel shoved aside the pain in her breasts as best she could and tried something she hoped the brunette wouldn’t expect. Planting her feet flat on the mat, Rachel pushed up hard, somersaulting over the brunette and rolling Neve onto her shoulders in the process. Now the redhead herself had agreed to make this a submissions only affair, so the pinning combination was useless, but it HAD brought her feet to within inches of the ropes and the redhead wasted no time in crossing both ankles over the most easily accessible cable. Her voice a trifle distorted thanks to the Lotus, Rachel gasped, "BREAK!"

More than a little pissed that Rachel had rolled her up so flawlessly; Neve broke the Lotus and bucked Rachel off of her. Scrambling to one knee, Neve shoved Rachel onto her back and grabbed hold of her ankles. Straightening up, the Scream Queen dragged Rachel to mid-ring and again dropped to her knees. Fixing Rachel with a hard look, the brunette panted, "I only save this for girls that have embarrassed me or made it a point to be a pain in my ass. You managed to qualify on both fronts."

When Rachel gave her nothing to work with, Neve folded her prey’s legs up and positioned them under one another, as if Rachel had been sitting Indian Style when she just decided to take a nap. And though that wasn’t the case, even if it had been true, what Neve had planned next would certainly wake her up. Scootching forward, she planted both of her knees on Rachel’s inner thighs, pinning them against the canvas. Forming both hands into Claws, Neve lashed out and sank her talons DEEP into the muscles of Rachel’s upper thighs, just below the edges of her briefs. It might not have been a real Crotch Claw, but only the most vigilant fans could tell the difference. And for Rachel, the hell of it was, this move, while unorthodox, was completely legal. Soaking in her foe’s suffering, Neve kneaded the quivering muscles like particularly stiff bread dough. After an especially hard dig forced a high shriek from Rachel’s lips, Neve relaxed the pressure a bit and demanded, "BEG!"

Doing her best to ignore the fire that was rapidly consuming her groin, Rachel pushed up off the mat and growled, "Never."

She tried to slash a hand at Neve’s face, but the brunette clamped down on the hold again, sending Rachel back to the mat in a heap. Acutely aware that there was no way for her to fight out of this, the redhead chose escape and began trying to scoot / crab her way to the ropes. The going was slow, but she did make progress. Unfortunately Neve made the trip with her and the Scream Queen made sure every second was agony. Continuing to burrow her claws into the defenseless muscles, Neve nodded and sneered, "That’s right Rachel, CRAWL. Crawl or beg, it’s the only way you’re going to get away from me."

Continuing her endless journey to safety, Rachel addressed her tormentor through gritted teeth. "I’ll make you do the same…. I’ll make you do… laps around the room… make you cry… plead for mercy… eventually… I’ll let you go. But not until I know… that you know…YOU WERE BEATEN BY ME!’

Bellowing in triumph, Rachel surged back one more time and gripped the bottom rope.

Ignoring the ref, Rachel turned to Neve and said, "BREAK IT."

‘ONE.’

Neve squeezed a little tighter, "Make me!"

Never letting her gaze waver, Rachel demanded, "LET GO."

‘TWO!’

"What if I don’t?"

"I’ll make you sorry."

‘THREE!’

"Beg me to let go."

"Fuck you!"

‘FOUR.’

"Then suffer!"

Neve pulled her right hand up, balled it into a fist and drove Punch straight into the crotch of Rachel’s red trunks. She howled in pain and the guests gasped in surprise. Such a heartless, vile tactic was very out of character for the normally rule-abiding Scream Queen. Dismissing the official with a glance, Neve got to her feet and strode away from the wreckage. The fight wasn’t over yet, but she really didn’t care. As long as Rachel understood what she’d unleashed, Neve was happy. Down on the mat, Rachel blinked the tears out of her eyes and rolled over onto her knees. Pushing up slowly, the Auburn Avenger flipped hair out of her eyes and stared the blackest murder at the brunette.

Getting her legs under her, Rachel sank into a low crouch and growled, "I’ll KILL you for that!"

Neve’s reply was equally callous, "Try it… PUSSY."

Through with restraint, Rachel hurled herself towards the Scream Queen. Seeing the world through a shimmering crimson haze, the redhead swept aside Neve’s hands and jammed her thumb into her foe’s eye. Lips pulled tight in a savage grin, Rachel trapped Neve in a Front Facelock, slinging the pale skinned vixen’s near arm over her shoulders while reaching down to hook Neve’s left leg with her right arm. Pausing for just a second to catch her breath, Rachel pulled Neve up and off her feet, bringing Neve crashing down hard with a Fisherman’s Suplex.

Releasing the bridge on contact, Rachel rolled to one knee and shoved Neve over onto her belly. Blue eyes gleaming with sadistic intent, the redhead yanked Neve to her hands and knees, straddled her upper back and strung Neve’s arms across her thighs. Almost done, the sturdy beauty made a show of reaching down and lacing her fingers under the Scream Queen’s chin. Rachel leaned forward for just a moment before pulling back viciously, trapping Neve in the Camel Clutch. Remembering the hell Neve had put her through with the Claw Hold, Rachel was merciless with the hold, pulling and twisting at Neve’s neck like someone trying to open a very stubborn pickle jar. If that wasn’t enough she also added an almost constant smashing of her butt against the brunette’s lower back, bending her even more awkwardly while simultaneously putting Neve’s underrated décolletage on abundant display for the guests.

Neve suffered in the vertebrae twisting anguish of the Camel Clutch for the better part of a minute before Rachel said, "Beg! Beg real loud or I’ll twist your head off your shoulders."

Then she leaned back even further, making the brunette’s response all the more difficult to deliver. Struggling against the white hot pain in her back and neck, Neve nonetheless managed a perfectly cogent reply, "Kiss my ass."

Infuriated beyond the point of a rational reply, Rachel released her grip on Neve’s chin and stood up over her victim. Staring down at Neve with something beyond hate, Rachel brought her right foot up and pistoned it forward, kicking the brunette square in the ribs. Neve doubled up in bleary hurt. No matter how tough you were, no one shook off a straight kick to the ribs.Digging the toes of her boot into the Scream Queen’s defenseless undercarriage, Rachel spat; "Feels like you’re getting SOFT Neve. I always knew you were shit." Bending down, the redhead grabbed hold of Neve’s waistband and peeled her off the mat. Letting her gaze fall on Katie for a second, Rachel shouted, "SEE THIS KATIE? THIS IS NOTHING COMPARED TO WHAT I’M GONNA DO TO YOU!"

Not waiting to see if the brunette gave her a response, Rachel booted Neve in the gut and trapped her in a Front Facelock. In the same breath, Rachel fell back, using all her weight and momentum to spike the top of Neve’s skull into the mat with a DDT, a move that was almost synonymous with Katie Holmes.

Neve let out a mumbled groan and flopped onto her back, able to do little more than clutch feebly at her battered skull. Seeing an opportunity for more punishment, Rachel got to her feet and sauntered over to Neve’s feet. Bending down, Rachel grabbed hold of Neve’s right ankle and got to her feet. Tucking her prey’s ankle snugly under her armpit, Rachel wrapped her arms around Neve’s thigh and lifted up before turning her over and sitting down, applying a Single Leg Boston Crab. The Auburn Avenger had held this position for less than five seconds when she let Neve’s leg fall from her hands. In the same move, she shifted her position so that she was laying on the brunette’s back facing her head, while at the same time scissoring her legs together, keeping Neve’s right leg bent and trapped between her thighs. To complete her hold she looped her left arm under Neve’s chin and locked her hands together. With the STF in place, Rachel pulled back as far as gravity would allow, now putting pressure not only on Neve’s knee and back, but her neck as well. Feeling the Scream Queen squirm helplessly in the STF, Rachel spoke softly to the captured brunette, "Take my weight bitch, take it all. Beg for mercy, otherwise I’ll snap your neck AND shatter your knee. How are you gonna avenge Fannin if you can’t even walk?"

Not really caring if Neve actually responded, Rachel reefed the choke back and forth, bending the helpless Scream Queen at an unholy angle. Being tortured both mentally and physically by the redhead, Neve’s mind would not entertain the thought of submitting, let alone the thought of having her body broken by a girl that was nothing but ‘Neve Lite.’ Reaching her hands out in front of her, Neve clawed the mat desperately and croaked, "ALL I HEAR IS TALK!"

Shelving any and all thoughts not involving her escape from the STF, Neve poured all her reserves into dragging her way across the mat towards the sanctuary of the ropes. The going was painful and much slower than she would have liked, but after several seconds, the cables were in sight and se reached for them the way a drowning person seeks a lifeline. Her grasping fingers had just brushed the bottom rope when Rachel released the hold and got to her feet. Helping herself to a savage fistful of the brunette’s hair, Rachel jerked Neve away from the ropes and dragged her back into the center of the ring. (It did not escape the audience’s notice that the redhead forced her wounded nemesis to crawl along behind her.) Reaching a spot she liked, Rachel yanked the Scream Queen to her feet.

Going nose-to-nose with the other woman, Rachel smiled sweetly into Neve’s pain-drenched face as she cooed, "I believe this is yours." Dropping to one knee, the redhead reared back and put all her strength behind a short Uppercut that caught Neve flush between the thighs. Sobbing in utter anguish, the brunette’s normally indomitable legs failed her and she crumpled forward, but Rachel swept her up in a loose Bear Hug and straightened her back up with a little grunt of exertion. Holding the decimated Scream Queen tight against her chest, Rachel shoved her head under Neve’s chin and pushed up, forcing Neve to look at her. Hoping to feel the first signs of real quit in her adversary, the Auburn Avenger whispered, "The pundits got it all wrong Neve. I was never your second coming, you were my herald."

Her grip unbreakable, Rachel lifted her victim off the mat and in one brutally smooth motion, pivoted 180 degrees before driving them both back to the canvas, slamming Neve’s spine into the mat while landing with her full weight on the trapped brunette. Impressed at the ring-shaking power of her version of the Belly-to-Belly Suplex, Rachel slooowly pushed up off her victim and secured a greedy handful of the Scream Queen’s crimson top. Scraping Neve off the mat, Rachel pointed her toward Katie’s side of the ring to ensure that bitch saw the look on Neve’s face when she bounced off the ropes. Digging her nails into the brunette’s wrist, she Whipped Neve toward the cables and let go, leaving Neve to lurch away from her in a drunken stagger. Keeping a careful eye on Neve’s movements, Rachel was convinced Neve was too punch-drunk to counter anything she had planned; so she set herself for another Belly-to-Belly Suplex.

Unfortunately for Rachel, Neve recovered faster than most and the Scream Queen proved it on the rebound. With Rachel set for her throw, Neve threw a massive wrench into the plans by dipping low and lunging forward, catching Rachel across both knees with a simple, but highly devastating Chop Block. Rachel’s legs were sliced out from under her and she went down like a felled tree, smacking her face hard on the mat in the process. A few feet away, Neve took a deep breath and pushed her way off the mat. Allowing herself the time to regain her composure, the brunette wiped the sweat off her forehead and assessed the situation. Rachel was currently down and hurting, but she wasn’t screaming. This was a condition Neve meant to rectify post-haste.

Glaring hatefully at the redhead, Neve stalked over to her downed opposition and raised her right boot as if to stomp down on Rachel’s knees. Rachel saw the tactic coming and tucked her legs up into her chest, effectively protecting the joints. Sadly, Neve wasn’t interested in Rachel’s knees! Moving with viper-speed, Neve shifted her weight and stamped down full force on Rachel’s left hand, mashing it under her boot. Smiling as she felt Rachel digits writhe beneath her boot, Neve ground her heel against Rachel’s hand until the ref started his count. Rolling her eyes, the Scream Queen pulled her boot clear only to grab the redhead’s squashed fingers in both hands and pull her to her feet. Shifting her grip, Neve tucked her right hand under the Auburn Avenger’s chin and tilted her head up. Speaking softly, Neve said, "Look at me."

When Rachel’s blue eyes started to clear, Neve stabbed her head forward, bashing the unsuspecting vixen across the bridge of the nose with a stiff Headbutt. Ignoring Rachel’s bleat of agony, Neve pulled her nemesis in close and explained, "You messed up your fancy H words Rachel. I’m not your herald. If anything, I’m the harbinger that foretells the end of your pathetic career."

Maintaining her position, Neve looped an arm around her opponent’s waist and threaded the other between Rachel’s legs, making sure to give her opponent‘s rump a light, taunting pinch. Her grip in place, Neve popped her hips and tossed Rachel up and over, dropping her hapless captive almost straight on her head with a ring-shaking T-Bone Suplex. Invigorated by the sound of Rachel’s skull bouncing off the canvas, Neve rolled to one knee and snapped her briefs back into place, then after running her hands through her hair, Neve stood up and looked out into the audience. "Ever seen a girl tap to a Knuckle-lock before?"

The guests replied, “NO” they hadn’t so, smiling ever so slightly, Neve answered, "You will now!"

Walking over to Rachel with a noticeable bounce in her step, the Scream Queen drops to one knee and easily straddles the redhead’s waist. Pinning Rachel’s right hand with her left, Neve laces the fingers of her right hand with those on Rachel’s left. Pulling Rachel’s arm off the mat, Neve’s face was curiously dispassionate as she squeezed down with bone-cracking force, torturing Rachel with a brutal Knuckle-lock that looks an awful lot like a totally one sided game of the old schoolyard favorite, Mercy.

Bending the Auburn Avenger’s wrist back while she continued to pour on the pressure; Neve glared into her victim’s sweating face and panted, "Quit!"

Grimacing, Rachel shakes her head and gasped, "Go to hell."

Increasing the pressure of her submission, Neve countered, "I’m sick of your shit Rachel. You want to prove you’re better than me? Then fight your way out of this hold. If all you’re going to do is sit there and whimper, just tap out and save us both a lot of time."

Breathing raggedly, Rachel pulled her head off the mat and looked Neve dead in the eye. "You CAN’T submit me." she stated bluntly.

Neve’s eyes went hard. "Really?"

When the redhead nodded, Neve pulled Rachel’s trapped hand up, and brought her head down. Finding the tips of Rachel’s fingers, Neve bit down hard and listened to her shriek. Watching the action unfold, the referee noted the illegal maneuver and started his count. The zebra had made it to ‘THREE’ when the Scream Queen spat Rachel’s digits from her maw.

Licking her lips in a violent parody of someone savoring the last hint of a delicious meal, Neve got her feet under her and jerked Rachel up too, dragging the redhead along by her bad hand. Still working the Knuckle-lock, Neve held Rachel at arms length and proceeded to wear her cheeks out with a scathingly disrespectful series of slaps. But batting Rachel’s head back and forth wasn’t enough; Neve had to taunt her while she was doing it. Dark eyes flashing, the Scream Queen followed each shot with the same taunting question;

"Is that all you’ve got?"

SLAP!

"Is that all you’ve got?"

SLAP!

"Is that all you’ve got?"

SLAP!

Finally after almost a dozen repetitions of her query yielded no answer, Neve released her hold on the redhead’s hand and whirled around behind her. Moving in close, Neve finally succeeded in tying Rachel up in the Full Nelson she’d attempted much earlier in the contest. Forcing Rachel’s chin into the top of her own cleavage, Neve shook the hold from side to side and snarled, "I’d really like to make you submit to your own move, but quite frankly I always thought this was a little boring."