Selma Blair vs. Sarah Michelle Gellar by The Walkin’ Dude

PROLOGUE: The Silver Key, Talent Lounge, a half hour before the start of the show:
Feeling a lot like the last Spartan at Thermopylae, George Stark looked away from his assigned task just long enough to check his watch. Sighing silently, Fannin’s huge intermediary shook his head and muttered, “Where are you Rich?” With no response immediately forthcoming, Stark dropped his hand and resumed his vigil.

What was the source of George’s anxiety you ask? One only had to look to each of the lounge’s four walls for the answer. Erica Durance was to his left, Jennifer Love Hewitt was behind him, Selma Blair was on his right and directly in front of him was the champ herself, Sarah Michelle Gellar. Stark had been charged with bringing these four ladies together this afternoon with explicit instructions to keep them from laying a finger on one another. And given that Erica and Jennifer couldn’t stand the sight of one another, combined with the fact that Selma and Sarah would be competing for the World Title in a few hours made the job an unenviable one to say the very least.

Much to Stark’s relief the four had fallen into a tense silence over these last few minutes, but up to that point the sniping and catty remarks had had the promoter’s right hand man constantly moving about the room to keep the ladies from tearing into one another. Just when George was beginning to think he’d been forgotten, there was a shuffling noise outside the door followed by a sharp, snarky voice admonishing someone, “Slow down Johnny Tremain, if the door’s still intact it means George is doing fine. They can wait long enough for me to open the door for you.”

A moment later, the door creaked open and Kristen Bell stepped aside so Richard Fannin could shuffle into the lounge. Truth be told, the promoter didn’t look like he should be walking around just yet; his right hand in a heavy cast and his arm cradled across his chest in a simple sling. Moving into the center of the room, Rich stood next to Stark while Kristen stood to the promoter’s right.

Taking a deep breath, Fannin said, “Ladies, I’m currently swimming in a river of Vicodin and chicken soup and turning to face you all individually is not something I think I’m up to just yet. If you wouldn’t mind standing in front of me, I’d be most appreciative.” He looked between the four of them, got four nods and waited for the ladies to move to the front of the room. Appreciating that they kept their distance from each other, Fannin rubbed forehead and added, “And if you wouldn’t mind, save the protests for after I’m done, otherwise I’ll let Kristen go to town on you with the kind of scathing zingers that cut to the very core of your ego.”

Smiling wanly, Bell patted the promoter on the shoulder as she regarded the other ladies. Arching an eyebrow in their general direction, the petite blonde said, “I’ll do it too; don’t think I won’t…” K-Bell was still smiling, but it was obvious she meant what she said. Ever since Fannin’s accident last week, she and Allison had been spending all of their free time with the promoter to help speed along his recovery; even if they could provide nothing more than a sympathetic ear or an extra hand to open the occasional door.

Turning his attention back to the champion and assorted challengers, Fannin began, “OK, we all know why you’re here. Each one of you feels you have some claim on the World Title, or at least the number one contender’s spot. And while that’s a noble sentiment, tonight’s match is a one-on-one encounter and that’s how I want it to stay. The fans are screaming to see Sarah and Selma tear into one another and it’s important to me that they get to see that match with NO outside interference.” The promoter paused for a moment and shifted his gaze to Erica and Jennifer. “That’s where you two come in. I know you both feel you were cheated out of this shot and I can’t say you’re wrong. While Selma did win the number one contenders match, it wasn’t entirely on the up and up.”

Selma opened her mouth to say something, but Kristen cut her off with little more than arched eyebrow and an, “Ah…ah…”

She fell silent and Fannin used the opportunity to continue, “Don’t worry Selma, I’m not changing the match, I’m just supplying the back-story. Point is, Erica and Love want a shot at the belt too and each of them has the motive to make sure you don’t win tonight. I’m here to tell you that would be a bad idea. If the two of you can stay away from the ring tonight, I’ll guarantee that you each get a one on one title shot before the year is over. On the other hand, if you should let your emotions get the better of you and this fight doesn’t end decisively, getting a title shot is going to be the least of your concerns. Are we clear?” He looked to Erica and waited for the big brunette’s response.

After a few seconds, Durance shrugged her shoulders, “No guarantees, but I’ll try.”

Fannin turned to Jen and the diminutive brunette glared at Selma and Erica then said, “She stays away, I stay away.”

Finally unable to hold her tongue, Selma fired back, “It doesn’t matter what you two losers do. After I take Sarah out, I’ll be glad to give you rejects your first - and last - title match.”

Dark eyes flashing, Sarah grabbed Selma by the shoulder and whirled her around. Going nose-to-nose with her challenger, the Slayer threatened, “Don’t you dare look past me Selma. If anyone is going to defend the belt against those two, it’s going to be me.”

Selma didn’t back down one bit and sneered, “Not fucking likely!”

The tension that had been building ever since the four women came into the room came to a head and it looked like a four way skirmish was all but inevitable when Fannin cleared his throat and said, “Ladies, you’re so very close to getting out of here with no problems. Let’s keep things civil just long enough for everyone to leave the room. It wouldn’t be right to make George separate all of you; after all, it’s Thanksgiving for him too.”

Selma, Sarah, Erica and Jennifer continued to glare at one another, but they did as the promoter had asked. One by one they filed out of the lounge and headed in different directions (much to Stark and Fannin’s relief) When they were all out of earshot, Rich turned to his intermediary and said, “Many thanks George, I’ll make sure there’s some extra hazard pay in your next check.”

The giant only smiled and headed for the door himself. “No problem boss. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to head down to the bar, order a Reuben and settle in for the show. Either of you want anything?”

Fannin shook his head ‘no’ and Kristen replied, “I’m good. Besides, I’ve gotta be sharp to keep an eye on Captain Hook here.”

Stark grinned and headed out the door. “See ya round!” he called as he disappeared down the hall.

Turning his attention towards Kristen, Fannin asked, “First I’m Johnny Tremain, now I’m Captain Hook. Which am I, deformed hand or no hand?”

Bell gave him a light shove and replied, “Whichever is funniest at the time boss man. Now, are you going to sit on the couch and watch the show like a good patient or do I have to call the orderlies with straight jackets and needles?”

Adopting his best Rodney Dangerfield voice, Fannin mumbled, “No respect. No respect at all,” and headed towards the sofa.

Sitting down beside the promoter, Kristen grabbed the remote, flipped on the television and chided, “Nothing could be further from the truth Rich. Now if you and your robot hand could pipe down for a few minutes, we might be able to watch the show.”

Grinning despite the dull burning ache under his cast, Fannin settled back into his seat and said, “All right, all right. But if you’re going to continue to play nursemaid, we’re at least gonna have to get you into the proper uniform.”

Bell snorted. “In your dreams!”

Watching the show come to life, Fannin chided, “Given all the pills in my system, that’s probably not too far off…”

It was the last week of November and the good folks of Gatlin Nebraska were just shaking off the remnants of their tryptophan induced slumber and were gearing up for those last few frantic weeks before Christmas. But at the Silver Key pub, the patrons are kicking off their holiday with a different kind of celebration. For the first time in several months, Women’s Wrestling had returned to the Key and it had returned with a bang.

The card had been loaded from top to bottom and highlights included the debut of Jenna Dewan who defeated Lindsay Lohan in a hard fought opener; Allison Mack winning a non-title match with Evangeline Lily and defending Tag Team Champs Lacey Chabert/Kaley Cuoco defeating Salma Hayek/Eva Longoria.

But as exciting and entertaining as these moments were, there was only one real reason the Silver Key was jammed to capacity tonight and it involved the Main Event in which , after months of verbal sparring, interference and mind games, Sarah Michelle was finally going to get her hands on her old nemesis Selma Blair!

Though I’d love to tell you more, it looks as though the announcer is stepping into the ring, so I’ll step aside and hand him the reins...

Waiting for a lull in the crowd’s noise, the Announcer began, “Ladies and Gentlemen, the following match is scheduled for one fall and it is for the World Championship! Introducing first, she is the challenger and is currently undefeated; standing at 5 feet 3 inches tall, she is Selma Blair!”

‘Stricken’ rolled through the speakers and the fans went nuts, either cheering wildly or booing vehemently depending on their feelings for the brunette. The song crunched along for about twenty seconds and then Selma was there on stage, standing silhouetted in the entryway and watching everything with a calculated stare. Looking out at the audience, the slender brunette’s lips curved up in the tiniest of smiles and then she was moving down the ramp toward the ring. For her long overdue war with the Slayer, Selma was clad in a simple black 2-piece bikini with blue accents that looked almost like gas lamps viewed through a heavy fog. Her shoulder length black hair fell loose on her shoulders and her boots and pads were a simple dark blue. Approaching the ring apron, Selma hopped up onto the ring in one feline motion and in the next instant she had vaulted over the top rope and landed in the center of the ring. Staring at the crowd stoic detachment, Selma went to her corner and turned towards the entryway, silently awaiting the arrival of her opponent.

Taking a deep breath, the Announcer lets Selma’s music fade before he begins again. “And her opponent, she stands at 5 feet 3 inches tall; she is the Slayer and the World Champ, ladies and gentlemen allow me to bring to you… Sarah… Michelle...Gellar!”

'Man in the Box' roars to life and Sarah wastes no time in pushing her way through the curtain. Holding the golden belt in both hands, the Slayer raises the strap over her head and gives the crowd a confident smile. As is her tradition, the blonde is wearing her trademark red leather one piece outfit and the high black boots that go with it. The look is completed with a pair of fingerless black gloves. The ovation for the small blonde is thunderous, but Sarah seems to pays it no heed as she stalks down the aisle like a woman on a mission, sliding under the bottom and popping to her feet before stalking to the middle of the ring and raising the belt once again.

Whirling towards Selma’s corner, Sarah holds the strap out in front of her and lays it down on the mat at her feet. Taking a step back, the diminutive blonde hold her hands out at her sides and beckons Selma forward with an unmistakable, ‘You want it? Come and get it.’ gesture. When Selma just smirked, Sarah handed the belt to the official and went to her corner.

The bell hadn’t even finished ringing before champion and challenger were free of their corners, moving so fast that several members of the audience commented it looked as though blonde and brunette had actually been pulled toward one another by an invisible wire. When Sarah and Selma met in the center of the ring a few seconds later, there was none of the hesitation, none of the ‘feeling out’ process that’s often so prevalent in title matches. The fact was, they didn’t need to anticipate what the other was going to do because each KNEW what her adversary was planning. For Sarah and Selma might as well have been mirror images of one another and the similarities in their styles had only become more apparent after their classic four match series had come to an end.

These thoughts passed through their heads in the blink of an eye and by then they were already at each other’s fingertips and the fight was on! Displaying nothing more than a slight frown on her pretty face, Selma shot out both hands and gripped the Slayer around her right wrist and elbow. In the same blur of motion, Selma twisted her hips and dropped to the mat, tossing the blonde champion across her body with a simple Arm Drag.

Keeping her wits as she floated over the brunette, Sarah hit the mat with her shoulder and went into a low, tumbling roll that had her back on her feet before the crowd could even begin to cheer Selma’s attack. Ready, willing and able to match her old nemesis move for move, Sarah lunged forward, locked a two-handed grip around Selma’s right arm and sent the slender brunette spilling across the mat with an Arm Drag of her own.

Much like champion before her, Selma touched down on the canvas with a feather-quiet whisper and she was back on her feet just as Sarah was getting to hers. The exchange of Arm Drags had taken less than ten seconds and the mob fully expected the majority of the bout would be fought at the same frenetic pace. But just when they were settling in for another round of breathtakingly quick offense, the challenger slammed on the brakes by stalking up to the champ and just pasting her across the cheek with a Slap whose CRACK! echoed throughout the arena.

As the audience ‘ooohhhed’ Sarah rubbed the wince off her face and turned her head back to glare at the brunette. Green eyes narrowing in ‘how could you’ indignation, Sarah spat, “What the hell do you think you’re…”

CRACK! Selma slapped her again, just as hard, but on the other cheek this time. Tiny hands clenched at her sides, Selma snarled, “I’ve been waiting six years to do that to you Sarah. I hope it gives you just a taste of the anger I’ve been bottling up since you left me to rot on the West Coast.”

Refusing to rub the sting out of her assaulted cheeks, Sarah turned her head towards Selma and asked, “You think you’re the only one that’s angry?”

Sarah didn’t give Selma a chance to answer because the words were still coming out of her mouth when the Slayer exploded forward and banged a wicked right, left right jab combo off the brunette’s cheek. Her lips set in a grim, determined line, Sarah followed that up with a hard Palm Strike that crashed off Selma’s jaw and banged her teeth together with an audible CLACK. The shot to her chin sent the challenger reeling wobbly-butt into the ropes and Sarah followed her in, stalking her prey with a calm detachment that belied just how angry the brunette made her. Smearing Selma against the cables, Sarah took the challenger’s left wrist in both hands and Whipped her across the ring with all the strength her five foot three inch frame would allow.

Following her sprinting adversary into the center of the ring, Sarah kept her feet planted until Selma was no less than three feet away. As the distance shrank exponentially, the Slayer leapt high into the air and wrapped her strong thighs around the brunette’s neck. As she locked her ankles, Sarah twisted back and yanked Selma off her feet with a textbook Hurricanrana. But as was mentioned earlier, Sarah and Selma were reading from the same textbook and so Selma rolled with the disorienting motion of the ‘rana and was able to turn an awkward fall into a sinuous cartwheel that put the challenger back on her feet before the champion.

Licking her lips, Selma stlared a hole through the Slayer as she assumed a loose martial arts stance. Sidling to her right, Selma kept her eyes locked on Sarah as she said, “Don’t you DARE let up Sarah; not even for a second. If you even THINK about taking a breather I’ll make sure to embarrass you…BEFORE AND AFTER I take your title.”

Taking a martial arts stance of her own, Sarah circled right, slowly reducing the distance between them. Ignoring the pain as her nails dug into her own palms, Sarah replied, “Trust me Selma, I’ve been embarrassed enough by you to last a lifetime! This time, YOU’RE the one who’s going to feel my boot on your throat and, if that’s not enough to keep you down, I wouldn’t mind putting my ass on your face too!”

The thought of suffering through Sarah’s Face Sit made the brunette absolutely livid; but she kept her voice under control as she replied, “You should worry about kicking someone’s ass before you start bragging about what you’re going to do with yours. But then, I’m not surprised…you always were a self-serving, self-righteous bitch!”

Selma’s voice had risen from nicely modulated to a raging scream over the course of her sentence; one she punctuated by stepping forward and snapping a crisp Side Kick that hit the Slayer on her right hip. Using the welt-raising blow as motivation, Sarah hissed at the lissome brunette and returned the favor, cracking an equally stiff Side Kick of her own into Selma’s left thigh. Selma grimaced and then went in motion, unleashing a second Side Kick of her own toward Sarah’s ribs. The blonde grunted and took a stumbling step to her left, but recovered immediately and fired off a second kick intended for the brunette’s bare midsection.

The Slayer’s foot was on target but she’d failed to take into account that Selma might not want the blonde’s heel jammed in her navel. As Sarah’s boot rushed towards her flat abs, Selma shot her hands up and caught the champ’s ankle, forcing her to hop on one foot. Smiling as Sarah’s arms wind-milled as she fought to maintain her balance; Selma pulled her right hand away from the blonde’s foot, blew on her fingers and rubbed them against her chest in an arrogant show of her complete control.

Smirking as Sarah fumed; Selma cocked her head and asked, “Sucks being forgotten doesn’t it Slayer? You know what’s even worse than being forgotten? Being dismissed!” Her free hand snapped forward with cobra-quickness and WHAP tagged the champion’s cheek with another scathingly impudent Bitch Slap.

Roaring her anger, Sarah took several wild swings at Selma who stayed just out of range, taunting the blonde with her very proximity as the Slayer’s hands sliced by less than an inch from her nose. Finding her voice, Sarah growled, “If you slap me again Blair, I swear to God I’ll…”

“You’ll WHAT?” Selma demanded. “Leave again? Run off before I have a chance to expose you for the fraud you are? If you wanted to turn tail and run like the coddled, pampered bitch you are, you should have just said so.”

Selma bent her knees and pushed upward, lifting Sarah’s trapped leg straight up. This would have sent most women sprawling to the mat, but Sarah wasn’t ‘most women’ as she proved when she went with the toss, turning a potentially embarrassing sprawl into a Back Flip that landed her on her feet a few feet back from her nemesis. Unfortunately for her, Selma knew the Slayer would do that - just as she knew the blonde would be vulnerable for a split second as she landed. While Sarah was straightening up from her landing, Sarah was already in motion…her right foot stabbing into Sarah’s face!

Selma’s Super Kick clouted the Slayer right in the chin and the diminutive blonde went down instantly, felled by the first truly effective strike of the contest. Waiting for the last echoing CLAP of the Super Kick to fade, Selma stepped over Sarah’s body and pulled the woozy champ up using a double handful of blonde hair. Maintaining her firm grasp of Sarah’s locks, Selma spun around with her back to the champ, then dropping to one knee, she jerked Sarah forward and flipped her to canvas with a hair-assisted Snap Mare.

Not satisfied with one, Selma twisted her fingers in Sarah’s hair and purred, “You’ve got more of those in you I bet!” Tugging the Slayer back to her feet, the brunette again turned away and again deposited Sarah’s butt on the mat. Kneeling behind her, Selma brushed her lips against Sarah’s ear and hissed, “I don’t need anything complex to beat YOU, if I didn’t think it would bore the audience I’d finish you with a Snap Mare into a Rear Naked Choke. But seeing as how this is equal parts demolition and exhibition, I might as well make it fun for everybody.”

Pulling her fingers from the blonde’s mane, the challenger got to her feet and sprinted for the ropes directly behind her seated adversary. As Selma was making her return pass, she dipped down low and grabbed Sarah by the sides of her head. As soon as she’d clamped down, the brunette executed a Low Front Flip that brought her down on her back in relative comfort although for Sarah, her reintroduction to the canvas was much less pleasant! The champion was yanked down with all the force of Selma’s descent helping her along and she wasn’t even able to turn her head before her forehead was rammed into the canvas.

Selma felt the Rolling Neck Snap more than she saw it, but she only needed to hear Sarah’s pained gasp to know that the maneuver had been a complete success. Rolling off her back, Selma got to one knee and then to her feet. Standing over Sarah, she took a moment to adjust and smooth out her ponytail before pulling Sarah up by the scruff of her neck. Still wearing a startlingly detached expression, Selma switched her grip to Sarah’s right wrist and Whipped the dazed Slayer into the corner.

After Selma sent the blonde into the turnbuckles, she hung back just long enough to confirm that Sarah hit the thinly padded steel before taking off like a shot toward her stupefied opponent. Approaching the corner, Selma left her feet in a High Leap, twisting her body parallel to the mat as she smashed the back of her legs into Sarah’s face to complete the Heel Kick. That bit of offense was already impressive without any added modifications, but Selma couldn’t resist making every move her own! She claimed this one by continuing to roll with the momentum, her body going up over Sarah’s head to come to rest in a loose, almost feline crouch on the ring apron behind her.

Smirking as the crowd ate out of her hand, Selma put both hands against Sarah’s back and shoved, sending the spaghetti-legged blonde stumbling out to center ring. Lining up her next shot perfectly, Selma grabbed the top rope in both hands, leaned back as far as she could, pulling on the ropes until she looked for all the world like the world’s largest, cutest, slingshot.

Selma sprang forward and sprang straight up, landing with both feet to balance precariously on the top rope. She was there less than a second before she was airborne, heading straight for the oblivious Slayer. As she soared by on the blonde’s right, Selma spread her arms and wrapped up Sarah’s head in a loose Side Headlock. Jerking the Slayer in close, Selma merely had to let gravity do its thing as she came down and drove Sarah’s face into the mat with her wickedly augmented Bulldog!

Releasing Sarah’s head to show how well the blonde would bounce, Selma shoved the champ over onto her back and pounced across her helpless tummy. Hooking the far leg, Selma applied a tight cradle and bore down hard as the ref counted, ‘ONE… TWO…’ But Sarah bucked hard, breaking Selma’s grip and the count.

Kneeling beside her breathless opponent, Selma brushed the hair out of her eyes and said, “I didn’t think it would be that easy. I just wanted to see if you’d gotten worse since the last time we fought. Judging so far I’d say you’re still pretty tough, but the lack of offense on your part is somewhat disheartening.”

Sarah’s response was less than coherent so Selma got to her feet and for the first time in the match, addressed the crowd, “I want to thank all of you that have the guts to cheer for me, this next move is all for you. And for all you mindless sheep who would boo the girl that destroyed your overrated Slayer, this move’s for you too.”

Standing with her back to Sarah’s middle, Selma ran towards the ropes and hopped up onto the middle rope. Launching herself backwards, the agile brunette pulled off a 180-degree turn in midair and landed back-first across the defenseless expanse of the Slayer’s chest. Normally hitting a Springboard Corkscrew Senton would be enough for most wrestlers, but going one step further than anyone else was Selma’s raison d’etre and as soon as the Senton had driven the wind from Sarah’s body, Selma was back on her feet, heading for the ropes on the opposite side of the ring.

As before, she left her feet and soared towards the ropes, only this time she alighted on the uppermost cable, then in an amazing display of balance, she pushed off and floated through the air in a High Back Flip that brought her down chest-first across Sarah’s abused chest. The Slayer’s body convulsed violently as the Springboard Moonsault connected, but it wasn’t enough to throw the brunette off. Laying splayed across the blonde’s chest, Selma hooked Sarah’s leg and nodded in time with the official count of, ‘ONE… TWO…’

Sarah shot a shoulder off the mat, keeping the match alive for a few more minutes. Shaking her head as the ref backed off, Selma settled her hands in Sarah’s hair and pulled the blonde to her feet. Dragging the champion into the middle of the ring, Selma doubled her victim over and trapped her in a Standing Headscissors. Clamping down hard on the Slayer’s skull, Selma twirled her fingers in a cyclone motion and called out, “IT’S BLAIR RAID TIME!” The challenger bent down to lock her arms around Sarah’s waist, but before she got her hands locked, the blonde grabbed Selma behind the knees and yanked her legs out from under her, dropping Selma onto her back in a jury-rigged Double-Leg Takedown.

Looking down, Sarah panted, “If you’re going to try and spike me with your finisher, you might try not announcing it!”

Before Selma could reply, Sarah dropped straight back, landing flat on the canvas she jerked Selma off the mat and tossed her over the blonde’s body in an awkward but effective Slingshot. Getting to her feet, Sarah was about to roar a salute to the audience when she froze in her tracks. It had just occurred to her that she hadn’t heard the pained ‘OOFHH’ that should have followed Selma’s face-first return to the canvas. Cursing under her breath Sarah dropped into a low crouch and prepared herself for anything Selma might be willing to throw at her. And it’s an interesting coincidence that the Slayer had used that particular turn of phrase because Selma WAS throwing something at her - herself!

When the champion had tossed her overhead, Selma brought her amazing agility into play. Rolling into the toss, she corrected her flightpath in midair and landed on the second turnbuckle in the corner where Sarah had attempted to plant her. Making the most of her reprieve, Selma waited until she saw the flash of realization flutter through the Slayer. Preparing to pounce, the brunette smiled and mouthed, “Gotcha.” as she leaped off the ropes, flinging the whole of her 110 pound frame at the Slayer in a perfect Flying Crossbody Press.

As Selma swooped down to fill her field of vision, Sarah saw the tiniest opportunity present itself and she went for it. Taking a half step back, the Slayer sank into a crouch, then leapt straight up, blasting both feet straight out in a High Dropkick. Her gamble paid off beautifully and her heels caught Selma in the navel! The strong brunette didn’t even realize she was being wrapped around the champion’s boots before she crashed to the mat curled in the fetal position.

Quickly popping to her feet, the blonde felt much better than she had for several minutes, but she was also perfectly aware that Selma had a well-deserved reputation for recovering quickly and the Slayer wanted to make sure she didn’t allow the brunette to get her wind back. Bending down, she buried her hands in Selma’s dark hair and pulled her to her feet. Releasing the hair-hold, Sarah stepped forward and buried a gut-churning Knee Lift in Selma’s belly without so much as a word.

Leaving Selma doubled over and clutching her abused belly, Sarah sprinted into the ropes and charged back at her, then sprang into the air, her right leg extended as far as it would go. When gravity started to pull her down, Sarah’s outstretched leg slammed down hard across the base of Selma’s neck and shoulders, a devastating Axe Kick. Selma wasn’t so much knocked off her feet as she was driven from them, straight down into the mat! She hit with a dull THUD and lay still aside from the occasional twitch and her arms tightly crossed over the back of her skull.

Rolling out of her landing, Sarah spun onto one knee and hopped to her feet in a single motion that looked like it could have doubled for Break Dancing. As the crowd went nuts, Sarah brushed the hair out of her face and the confidence in that simple gesture spoke volumes. In just two moves, the Slayer had gone from victim to conqueror; and THAT ladies and gentlemen, is why she was currently holding the World Title! Flashing a quick smile to the Slayer faithful, the small blonde turned her attention to the slender brunette laid out at her feet. Selma had hurt her early in this contest and now that the shoe was on the other foot, Sarah wanted to make sure that Selma (and everyone else) knew she was more than capable of putting down any challenger that dared step into ‘her ring.’

Stalking over to the brunette’s festering ruins, Sarah planted her heel on the small of Selma’s back and said, “You’ve beaten me before Selma, I won’t deny that. But you NEVER beat me with gold on the line and I don’t plan on letting that change tonight.” After grinding her heel into the brunette’s spine for a few seconds, Sarah relinquished her perch and yanked Selma to her feet with a handful of hair. Taking note of the glassy, dazed look in Selma’s eyes, Sarah smiled sweetly as she grabbed her opponent by the wrist and pointed her towards a corner on the other side of the ring. Digging her nails into Selma’s wrist, Sarah stared the other girl dead in the face and said, “You’re not the only one who knows how to work in the corners. I’ll show you right now, but I’m guessing you’ll need to refer to the tape just to confirm how badly I fucked up your day.”

When Selma only groaned, Sarah pulled away and whipped her into the waiting buckles. As the TWANG of Selma’s collision with the corner faded, Sarah turned around and jogged towards the corner directly opposite of her opponent. Waiting just long enough to feel the pads press against her back, Sarah bolted out of the corner, charging at her helpless adversary like a runaway freight train. Waiting for the exact moment when Selma started to raise her head, Sarah left her feet in a graceful Vault and soared towards her prey, ending the short flight by lashing out her left leg and smashing her calf directly across Selma’s nose. There was a remarkably loud CLAP as Sarah’s toned gam snapped Selma’s head back and mashed her against the unyielding steel of the corner. Landing on her side after the Calf Kick connected, Sarah rolled back on her shoulders and then nipped up into her battle stance, eliciting another loud round of cheering from the mob.

Shaking her head ‘no’, Sarah called out, “Please hold your applause to the end of the show, I’m not quite done with this trick yet.”

Strolling up to Selma’s gut-shot form, Sarah clutched the brunette’s right wrist in both hands, tugged her out of the corner and immediately whipped her across the ring. Moments later, Selma crashed into the corner Sarah had just been occupying and the Slayer rushed to join her. Sarah’s approach differed this out, not because she didn’t hurt Selma, but because she chose to hurt her in a brand new way. When there was less than three feet separating her from Selma, Sarah exploded off the canvas and drove her right knee forward, smashing Selma across the cheek with a Flying Knee that looked more appropriate for an Octagon than a wrestling ring.

The maneuver proved effective. Selma’s normally sturdy legs unhinged and the brunette would have collapsed onto her knees if Sarah hadn’t been there to hold her in place. But helping her rival maintain verticality was certainly no act of charity on the Slayer’s part. The second her feet touched down, Sarah grabbed Selma by the straps of her top and shoved the brunette towards the center of the squared circle. Taking a quick step back, Sarah let Selma wander past her before running the ropes behind the brunette and sprinting back at her full tilt.

As she bore down on the stunned challenger, Sarah snagged her foe’s skull in one hand and leapt into the air gliding nearly six feet through the air before gravity reclaimed her and pulled her butt first to the canvas. The Slayer landed with a mere whisper but the came could not be said of Selma. The petite grappler was driven face-first into the mat, the impact of Sarah’s expertly timed Bulldog actually bouncing her whole body into the air before slopping back down on her side.

Nodding her approval, Sarah pushed Selma over onto her back and cradled the brunette tight. Focused solely on the referee’s count, Sarah’s pretty face remained stony as the zebra slapped the mat, ‘ONE… TWO…’ Selma kicked her legs out straight, tearing free of the cradle and the count simultaneously.

Undeterred, Sarah took Selma’s left ankle on both hands and got to her feet. Looking around to make sure they were far from the ropes, the blonde pulled the captive limb out straight and snarled, “I don’t care what else you learn this evening Selma, but I’m not going to let you leave this ring until you understand that YOU (STOMP!) ARE (STOMP!) NOT (STOMP!) BETTER (STOMP!) THAN (STOMP!) ME! (STOMP!)” The Slayer punctuated every word in her sentence by lashing her right foot forward to deliver a stiff kick to the back of Selma’s thigh.

The hobbled brunette moaned and tried to pull free, but Sarah only clamped down and kicked harder. Such a mean-spirited, methodically cruel style of attack wasn’t like the champ, but Sarah had taken a lot of crap from Selma over the last several months and she wanted to let the brunette know that wasn’t going to happen any more. After an especially hard kick from the blonde sent a delicious shudder up Selma’s leg, Sarah ceased her stomping only to yank Selma’s leg out straight once again. Breathing hard, Sarah glared down at Selma and said, “This might not be the Sharpshooter, but if you’ve got any brain left, you’ll tap out long before I have to use it.”

Falling silent, Sarah wrapped her right leg around Selma’s inner thigh and fell back to the canvas. The moment she touched down, Sarah brought her left leg up on the other side of Selma’s thigh and crossed her ankles. When Selma’s leg was securely scissored between her own, Sarah crushed down with her thighs, mercilessly mashing the brunette’s gam with a simple Leg Bar. The pain of the hold finally penetrated the fog roiling in Selma’s brain, but based on the pained shrieks pouring from the crippled challenger, it was easy to see that Selma wasn’t very appreciative of her new-found cognizance. Alternately relaxing and increasing the pressure on the Leg Bar, Sarah squeezed Selma’s thigh as hard as she could and compounded the brunette’s misery by driving short, sharp punches into her ankle. Ignoring the buzz of the official, Sarah propped herself up on her elbows to get a better look at the suffering etched on Selma’s face.

Quite pleased to have destroyed that air of smug confidence, Sarah bore down on the Leg Bar even harder and asked, “You ready to concede Selma?”

Wincing through gritted teeth, Selma scowled at the blonde and hissed, “Not a fucking chance Sarah.”

More than a little irritated by the steel in the brunette’s voice, Sarah fired back, “If you’re talking about your odds of walking out of this ring, I totally agree.”

The Slayer continued to stack those odds in her favor with another titanic constriction of her thighs. Roaring in pain as Sarah continued to torture her, Selma waved off the ref and concentrated on escape. Looking behind her, she saw the ropes weren’t impossibly distant and that gave her some hope. Digging her hands into the canvas, Selma began clawing her way across the mat. Howling like a Grizzly Bear with its leg caught in a trap, Selma managed to drag herself within inches of the rope, but just when it looked like she was going to force a break, Sarah released the pressure on the Leg Bar and hopped to her feet. Refusing the brunette event temporary sanctuary, Sarah dug her talons into Selma’s sweaty mane and yanked her to her feet.

Hauling Selma back to the center of the ring, Sarah noticed the brunette’s new limp and singled out Selma’s left leg for more punishment. Pressing her face into Selma’s, Sarah growled, “From the second you arrived, you have done nothing but question my place on the roster. You ruined my title celebration and interjected yourself in my business whenever you could. Well now you’ve finally got my undivided attention Blair, I just want you to answer one question; was it worth it?”

Selma’s eyes cleared and it looked like she was going to offer a reply when Sarah shoved her back, forcing Selma off balance. As Selma fought to regain her footing, Sarah dipped into her martial arts stance and slashed her right leg out, catching the brunette across her injured thigh. Selma let out a clipped moan and dropped to her hands and knees, which is exactly where Sarah wanted her. Resetting her footing, Sarah aimed for Selma’s temple and purred, “Here comes the tiebreaker, Selma.”

The words were still coming out of her mouth when she brought her right foot whistling out in a Buzzsaw-like kick that would have dimmed Selma’s lights IF Selma hadn’t ducked at the last second, allowing Sarah’s foot to pass harmlessly overhead. Lifting her head, Selma watched as Sarah’s momentum whirled her around on her heel. When the Slayer presented Selma her back, the brunette shoved aside the pain in her leg and scrambled to her feet.

Before Sarah could even begin to turn around, Selma laced both of her hands across the blonde’s chin and leapt into the air, tucking both knees tightly against Sarah’s back as she did so. In the next instant, physics brought Selma to the canvas and she landed lightly on her back while Sarah was hauled off balance and bent painfully over the brunette’s well-placed knees. The Lung Blower lived up to its name; all the wind was driven from the champ’s frame in an instant and she looked frighteningly limp when Selma released the Chinlock and pushed the Slayer off her knees.

Getting to her feet, Selma took several deep breaths before turning her attention to the steady, burning pain in her left thigh. Massaging the muscle with both hands, Selma grimaced when her fingers happened upon especially tender areas, but after several seconds the worst of the hurt started to fade and she believed she could still move with all or most of her trademark agility. Straightening up, Selma stalked over to the breathless Slayer and took a place by her side.

Watching silently as Sarah got to her hands and knees, Selma’s face twisted in a furious snarl as she said, “Kicking someone when they’re down, how did I know you’d love a tactic like that? Well let’s see if you can take what you GIVE!” Placing all her weight on her wounded leg, Selma pulled her right leg back and pistoned it forward, kicking Sarah directly in the ribs. There was a sound like a mattenklopper striking a thick rug and then it was replaced by a shrill scream from the champ as Sarah was knocked off her hands and knees and over onto her belly. Snickering under her breath, Selma said, “You’ve got nothing Sarah. Anything you do, I do five times better. As you’ve already seen, I kick harder and you’re about to find out that I can twist farther too.”

Selma walked over and stood between Sarah’s legs facing her feet. Bending down, Selma grabbed Sarah’s ankles and tucked them under her armpits, then stood up. With her arms looped around Sarah’s legs, Selma called out, “I was going to make her tap to her own finisher, but I thought that might be kind of cruel. I hope you like this one just as much.” She slowly pulled Sarah’s legs up as high as they could go, then she turned her nemesis onto her belly and sat down, applying a visually odd variation on an old wrestling standard.

Selma had Sarah’s body bent in the terrible C shape that was the hallmark of the Boston Crab, but facing Sarah as opposed to away from her. This peculiar inversion of the hold seemed to have no effect on the pain it caused, as evidenced by Sarah’s frantic clawing and slapping of the mat, not to mention the small of her back. Dropping into the deepest crouch she could while maintaining her balance; Selma poured every ounce of available pressure into the hold and demanded, “Submit you bitch! You know I could snap you in two right now and I will if you give me a reason!”

Down on the mat, Sarah was in nearly indescribably agony from the hold, and as much as she hated to admit it, she knew the Inverted Crab really could break her back if she didn’t get out of it soon. Drinking deep from the well of her reserves, Sarah stopped flailing around and got her hands down flat on the mat. With a scream born of pain and exertion, she pushed her upper body off the canvas, and very slowly started to drag both herself and Selma toward the ropes.

Limping along behind as she maintained the hold, Selma was surprised to see Sarah fight back with such vigor. Cursing the fact that Sarah was going to make the ropes in the next few seconds, Selma suddenly released the hold, letting Sarah’s legs fall to the mat with a sweaty SPLAT. With Sarah occupied with caressing her tortured back, Selma reached down, grabbed a handful of the blonde’s leather one-piece and hauled her to her feet. Cinching down on Sarah’s togs, Selma yanked the blonde towards her and drove her forearm across the small of Sarah’s back. Grinning sadistically as Sarah’s knees trembled, Selma cooed, “Does your back hurt baby? Maybe I can help you focus on something else.”

Sinking her hands into Sarah’s hair, Selma whirled her opponent around and SMACK slapped her hard. Leaving the Slayer stumbling and staggering in the center of the ring, Selma turned her back on the blonde and ran towards the edge of the ring. As she neared the ropes, Selma left her feet in a short hop that ended with both feet balanced on the middle cable. In the next instant she propelled herself backwards and twisted her whole body around to face Sarah before snapping out her right foot and catching Sarah square across the jaw with an innovative Springboard Enziguiri. Sarah’s eyes rolled back in her head and she hit the mat with a loud THUD that went virtually unheard over the roar of the crowd.

Springing out of her landing, Selma popped to her feet and offered the crowd an enthusiastic roar. Say what you want about Selma and her tactics, but no one could deny the slim brunette was fighting with everything she had. Selma stalked over to Sarah’s semi-coherent form and yanked the Slayer to her feet. Grabbing a handful of material near the neckline of Sarah’s red outfit, Selma pulled the defenseless blonde close and whispered, “I’ve waited years to do this to you.” She held Sarah at arm’s length as she used her free hand to SMACK-SMACK-SMACK Sarah’s face with great clouting Bitch Slaps that watered the Slayer’s eyes and reddened her cheeks.

When Sarah’s legs failed and she dropped to her knees, Selma kept up the demeaning assault, only now she added a vocal element. “YOU SEE THIS SARAH?” (SLAP!) “THE TITLE! (SLAP!) THE FAME! (SLAP!) THE ADORATION OF ALL THESE PEOPLE! (SLAP!) IT (SLAP!) ALL (SLAP!) SHOULD (SLAP!) HAVE (SLAP!) BEEN (SLAP!) MINE! (SLAP!)” When the last blow connected, Selma pulled Sarah back to her feet and pulled her in nose-to-nose. Staring deep into the blonde’s glazed eyes, Selma finished, “And tonight I take it all back.” Whirling Sarah around, Selma slapped a Half Nelson on Sarah’s right arm before using her left hand to capture the Slayer’s right wrist and pull it roughly across Sarah’s throat, cinching in the Cobra Clutch. Rag-dolling Sarah back and forth with violent twists of her hips, Selma pressed her lips to the blonde’s ear and whispered, “I know Scarlett’s done everything but trademark this move, but here’s a little variant that even she hasn’t thought up yet.”

‘Yet’ was still coming out of her mouth when Selma rose up on her toes and yanked herself backwards. Both girls hit the canvas hard, but Sarah got the worst of it; she landed flat on her back, skull jouncing off the mat a few times thanks to Selma’s newest bit of offense that was equal parts Cobra Clutch and Russian Leg Sweep. Removing her arms from around the Slayer’s throat, Selma rolled over onto her opponent’s belly and hooked the far leg in a loose cradle. Never ceasing to be amazed at the brunette’s creativity in designing new moves, the ref dropped to one knee and slapped the mat, ‘ONE… TWO…’ Ingenious move or not, Sarah still had fight left in her and she proved it by kicking free of the predicament before she could be counted down. Kneeling beside her adversary, Selma took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Looking down into Sarah’s face she implored, “Go ahead bitch, keep fighting out. I’ll turn you into a fucking showcase.” Landing a derisive two-handed SLAP to Sarah’s defenseless breasts just for the hell of it, Selma quickly pulled Sarah to her feet and trapped her in a Front Face Lock. Setting the blonde up for a Vertical Suplex, Selma gazed into the crowd and shouted, “What’s she going to do? Suplex, Piledriver, Neckbreaker or something even worse? You’ll just have to wait and see!”

Then she bent her knees and hoisted Sarah overhead for what still looked like your basic Vertical Suplex. It was only when she let Sarah pass overhead and then land on her feet with her back to the brunette that things began to get different. Sarah’s feet had barely touched the ground when Selma sat out hard, slamming butt first into the canvas and taking Sarah along for the ride, snapping the back of the blonde’s neck backward across her shoulder in an ingenious application of a Reverse Neckbreaker. Sarah moaned aloud and held her head in both hands as she rolled around on the mat, kicking her feet weakly as she tried her best to get back into the fight.

Rising easily to her feet, Selma jerked a thumb towards the corner and said, “Let’s take this thing to the air.” On a tide of applause from the mob, Selma scraped Sarah off the mat and marched her towards the buckles. Tossing Sarah into the thinly padded steel with little thought for the blonde’s comfort, Selma wasted no time in wrapping her arms around the Slayer’s waist and hoisting her into a seated position on the top turnbuckle. Releasing her grip on Sarah’s middle, Selma climbed up onto the top rope and grabbed Sarah’s head in both hands, meaning the champ’s face was roughly level with Selma’s crotch. Adjusting her perch on the ropes, Selma muttered, “Time for the next clip of the highlight reEEEEERRRGGGGHHH!”

Sarah gave her what she was looking for, but not in a good way. In the few seconds it took Selma to deliver her message, Sarah balled her left hand into a fist and drove it into the center of the brunette’s trunks. Selma’s legs developed a nasty tremor and it looked as though she might go tumbling back to the mat, but Sarah wasn’t going to let her go that easily. Grabbing the brunette by the hair, Sarah forced her opponent to bend over double even as she was trying to stand up on the top rope. After a few close calls, Sarah got her feet under her and managed to force Selma’s head between her thighs in a rough Standing Headscissors.

Wrapping her arms around Selma’s tummy, Sarah clasps her hands together and sneered, “Wrong! This’s going on your blooper reel, asshole.”

More than glad to contribute to Selma’s career lowlights, the blonde bent her knees and flipped over her foe, essentially taking Selma off the top rope and to the mat with a Sunset Flip that had all the impact of a Powerbomb thanks to the added height. Selma hit the canvas hard; she probably would have bounced up and over onto her belly had Sarah not been there holding her down for the count. Shaking off his surprise at the champ’s impressive counter, the ref dropped down and counted off, ‘ONE… TWO… THR - NO!’ It was close, but Selma rolled a shoulder off the mat, keeping her title aspirations alive for at least a few more minutes.

Shoving Selma away, Sarah got her feet and saluted a crowd that roared it’s appreciation for the champion’s resilience and tenacity. Pointing a hand towards Selma, Sarah shouted to the crowd, “SELMA KEEPS BITCHING ABOUT HOW I TOOK EVERYTHING FROM HER! WELL TONIGHT, I’M GOING TO TAKE ONE MORE PART OF HER AND MAKE IT MY OWN - HER SKINNY, WHINING, ASS!”

Feeling rejuvenated as the mob urged her on; Sarah strolled over to Selma and pulled the aching challenger to her feet. Leading the brunette into the center of the ring, Sarah removes her fingers from Selma’s mane only to clamp down on her right wrist. Pointing Selma into the cables, Sarah bends her knees and let’s loose, hurling her adversary into the ropes with all the force she can muster. The second Selma left her grip; Sarah whirled around on her heel and sprinted in the opposite direction. Bouncing off the ropes, the Slayer picked up a full head of steam as she careened out to meet Selma at mid-ring.

But instead of taking to the air for her acrobatics, Sarah instead went low, leaving her feet to slam both heels into Selma’s knees with a Low Dropkick. A loud SMACK was followed by an equally loud THUD as Selma’s legs went one way and her head another - face-first into the mat! She let out a pained groan as she cradled her head in one hand and her gut in the other; apparently unable to decide where the pain was worse.

Sarah, being the benevolent champion she is, strutted to the fallen challenger and decided to help make her decision a little easier. Grabbing Selma’s hair, Sarah jerked the blonde to her knees and tilted her head back, forcing smoldering eye contact with the groggy and demoralized challenger.

“Selma, the only thing you will EVER take from me is the worst beating of your life!”

Watching Selma open her mouth to reply, Sarah took great pleasure in using her free hand to deliver a vile Forehand Slap to Selma’s face that cut the brunette’s reply off with a neatness that was nearly mechanical. Still standing before her foe, Sarah ran the ropes yet again and hurled herself back at the penitent challenger. When instinct told her the time was right, Sarah hopped up and lashed her right leg out in a fast, vicious arc that culminated in her smashing her shin into the side of Selma’s face, completing the Shining Wizard.

Selma’s eyes went from glazed to glassy as she slumped over on her side, breathing weakly as Sarah scrambled over and shoved her onto her back. Hoping that her last shot had finally put the mouthy brunette down for the night, Sarah hooked both legs this time and bore down with all her strength. Seeing the cover made, the ref dropped to his knees and counted, ‘ONE… TWO…’ but Selma rolled a shoulder off the mat.

Slamming a fist into the canvas, Sarah grunted, “All right, so kicking your head off isn’t getting it done. Maybe I just need a little more leverage.”

Allowing herself a small breather, Sarah jogged around behind her wounded opposition, settled into a patient crouch and waited for Selma to get back on her feet. Moments later, Selma obliged her and that’s when Sarah sprang into action. Charging the brunette at a dead run, Sarah leapt and scissored her legs open. As her toned gams encircled Selma’s head, Sarah snapped them shut like a vise as she fell backward, taking Selma off her feet with a perfect Hurricanrana.

Sarah landed with her butt on Selma’s chest, the hapless brunette pinned to the mat in a Schoolgirl Pin. Bearing down with all her weight across Selma’s chest, Sarah leaned forward, hoping to end the match right there. The ref was right there and counted off, ‘ONE… TWO…’

Before ‘THREE’ however, Selma scissored her legs up and over Sarah’s shoulders at the same time as she wrapped her hands around Sarah’s thighs and pushed upward. With a startled cry, the Slayer was pushed roughly backward as Selma sat up. The blonde heard the ref counting and Sarah almost panicked when she realized it was HER shoulders that were down. Collecting herself, she pushed up as hard as she could and successfully rolled out of Selma’s makeshift Sunset Flip just as the count reached, ‘TWO.’

Infuriated that the brunette had nearly stolen the match and the title, Sarah left her feet again and slammed both heels home into Selma’s forehead in another Low Dropkick. Snarling happily as Selma’s head bounced along the mat, Sarah rolled to one knee and took a moment to realign the lower edges of her one-piece. Pushing to her feet, Sarah strode over to Selma’s wreckage and pulled the brunette to her feet with a showy handful of trunks. With Selma still light-headed from all the boot leather she’d been eating, Sarah had little trouble doubling Selma up with a trio of heartless Knee Lifts to the belly.

Making sure Selma didn’t lose her balance, Sarah held Selma in that position and then slapped on a skull-grinding Front Face Lock. Bearing down as Selma tried to twist free, Sarah tightened her grip even more and then rose up on her toes before falling backwards as hard as she possibly could. Selma was yanked violently off her feet as her skull was spiked brutally into the mat, the force of the Slayer’s Snap DDT, leaving her in a rather elegant looking headstand in the instant before she crumpled limp to the canvas.

Nipping up with an ease Shawn Michaels would envy, the blonde champion strutted over to her foe, placed the sole of one boot on the side of Selma’s face and rubbed it back and forth; literally and figuratively grinding Selma under her heel. Then licking her lips as the crowd cheered her show of dominance; Sarah brought her right arm up and drew her thumb across her throat. Smiling wickedly as the mob’s enthusiasm went up another several notches, Sarah whispered, “This ends now!”

Pulling her foot from the brunette’s face, Sarah bent down and hoisted Selma to her feet. Holding Selma under the arms, Sarah marched her to the center of the ring and then pushed her away, creating just enough distance for the champ to settle into striking mode. Lining up her shots with sniper-like precision, Sarah lashed out faster than most people could blink, hitting a vicious right-left SLAP-SLAP that rocked Selma’s head back and forth. But Sarah wasn’t done yet!

As the second SLAP was blurring the brunette’s vision, the Slayer spun through the blow, turning her back on Selma just long enough to complete the turn and deliver an eye-watering Forehand Chop to the base of Selma’s neck with her right hand. And even then, the blonde wasn’t satisfied; settling back into her stance, Sarah balanced all her weight on her left foot and blasted the right leg up in a Roundhouse Kick that crashed into Selma’s cheek. That buckled the brunette’s knees and Sarah was right there to catch her with a Standing Headscissors!

Breathing hard as she prepared for the end, Sarah panted, “I know this isn’t proper behavior for a babyface champion, but you REALLY deserve this, and I can’t help myself.”

She grabbed a double handful of Selma’s black and blue trunks, then with no theatrics or preamble, yanked upward, sending the slick material on a cold-hearted invasion of Selma’s most sensitive region. Jerking back and forth on her makeshift handle for a few seconds, Sarah finally released Selma’s togs to lock her hands around the brunette’s waist. Taking a deep breath, Sarah heaved Selma off her feet into Powerbomb position. Holding Selma with her thighs framing her face, Sarah began the trio of revolutions that gave the Spiral Bomb its name. When she completed the third revolution, she sat out…

…and that’s where things started to go wrong!

Instead of being driven into the mat like a good loser was supposed to do, Selma wriggled her legs off Sarah’s shoulders and managed to grab the Slayer’s head in both hands as she dropped to the mat, using Sarah’s own momentum to expedit her trip to the canvas. She hit with a cringe-inducing BWAM! as Selma’s impromptu Facebuster changed the champ from victor to victim in a heartbeat!

Scrambling back to a vertical base, Selma stalked over to where Sarah lay moaning and holding her face in both hands. Not bothering to disguise her fury, Selma grabbed Sarah’s hair and jerked her to her feet, then gutted the injured blonde with a Knee Lift!

Selma laced each of her arms under the Slayer’s arms and clasped her hands together across Sarah’s upper back, then as she tightened her grip, Selma panted, “People always marvel at how much backbone you’ve got Slayer. Not me though, I just want to know how much your backbone can withstand.”

Grinning malevolently, Selma bent her knees and lifted Sarah straight up. When she could raise her no higher, Selma flipped Sarah over with the helpless blonde’s back toward the canvas. Simultaneous with that move, Selma dropped to one knee and jammed the small of Sarah’s back directly across her bent knee. The Double-Underhook Backbreaker sent a nearly electric jolt of pain through Sarah’s body - plainly evidenced by her loud scream and the spasmodic twitching that ensued after the move connected.

Unclasping her hands, Selma shoved Sarah off her knee, sending the battered champion rolling out to mid-ring before coming to a stop with Sarah laying face down; her back deliciously exposed. Cracking her knuckles as she took in the situation, Selma knew Sarah couldn’t have much left. Of all the girls on the roster, Selma was the most well-versed in just how Sarah Michelle looked, moved and felt when she was on the brink of defeat. Getting to her feet, Selma turned to the buckles behind her and leapt to the top rope without so much as a thought.

Turning to face the inside of the ring, Selma raised both arms high over her head and screamed, “THIS IS IT SARAH! THE SIREN’S GOING TO START SOUNDING ANY SECOND; AND THAT MEANS THERE’S A NEW CHAMP!”

Ignoring the excited murmur of the audience, the brunette leapt out into the void and in an amazing display of agility, tucked herself into a ball, completed one and a quarter revolutions before unfolding and coming down belly-first across Sarah’s back in a devastating 450-Splash. Much like the Backbreaker before, Selma’s Splash wrenched a cry of agony from Sarah’s lips and another round of almost electrical jerks through the blonde’s petite frame.

Lying across Sarah’s back, Selma knew she couldn’t get the pin this way, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to stay here a little longer and make Sarah feel every last ounce of Selma’s weight bearing down on her. Flipping the hair out of her eyes, Selma pushed up off the semi-coherent champion, making sure to place both hands against the small of Sarah’s back as she did so. Dropping to one knee, Selma sank her left hand into Sarah’s sweat soaked mane and brought the Slayer to her feet.

With absolutely no wasted motion, Selma reached forward, grabbed a handful of Sarah’s hair and bent her awkwardly backward, nestling Sarah’s chin in her armpit to trap the helpless girl in a neck-wrenching Inverted Facelock. Holding Sarah prone in this position, Selma took long enough to sneer, “Fuck you Slayer.”

As the words were still leaving her mouth, Selma twisted her body around so that she was now standing in front of Sarah with the gutshot blonde’s chin resting on her shoulder. Not holding this position for more than a second, Selma jumped and sat out, landing on her butt, while simultaneously jamming Sarah’s chin into the point of her shoulder with a modified Stunner she called ‘The Whistler.‘ Sarah’s head snapped painfully backwards and the force of the landing actually stood her up on her feet for a second. The crowd held its collective breath as Sarah stood on spaghetti legs and then simply fell face first to the mat, unmoving except for a slight quiver in her hips and legs.

Roaring with delight, Selma exploded to her feet and exclaimed, “IT ENDS NOW!” Yanking the Slayer to her knees, Selma trapped the moaning blonde in a Standing Headscissors and wrapped her arms around Sarah’s midsection. Squeezing down as tight as she could, Selma added, “Remember this moment Sarah. Remember what it felt like just before I took your world from you.”

Selma bent her knees slightly and then executed a tight front flip that ended in her drilling the top of Sarah’s head into the mat with the Flipping Piledriver she called, ‘The Blair Raid.’

The sadistic impact of Selma’s amazing finishing maneuver was able to stand Sarah up on her feet for a second before she went down like a chopped tree, face-first onto the mat. Smiling from ear-to-ear, Selma scrambled over to Sarah and shoved her over onto her back. Looking to end Sarah’s reign with a memorable cover, the brunette straddled her victim’s waist and grabbed both of her wrists, pinning them high overhead. Staring Sarah dead in the face as the ref swooped in, Selma purred, “I guess we know who’s better now don’t we?”

She would have said more, but the official was already slapping the mat, ‘ONE… TWO… THRE…NO!’

In a moment that would be discussed, analyzed and replayed over and over for weeks, Sarah Michelle rolled her right shoulder off the canvas just before the ref’s hand came down a final time, making her the first woman in Fannin’s promotion to EVER kick out of ‘The Blair Raid!’

Selma couldn’t believe it. She just… couldn’t believe it. Staring at the zebra with wide, incredulous eyes, Selma was motionless for several seconds before she turned her attention back to the Slayer. Sinking her fingers deep into the blonde’s golden locks, Selma scraped Sarah off the mat and tried to figure out what to do next. For the first time in her career, Selma didn’t have an immediate answer. She had thoroughly exhausted her arsenal to defeat the Slayer and somehow she kept coming back for more. Settling on the first cogent think that crossed her mind, Selma switched her grip from Sarah’s hair to her wrist and pointed her towards the ropes. Getting her lips right up against Sarah’s ear, the brunette whispered, “I don’t know where that came from. But I GUARANTEE that it was your last act as champion.”

Pulling away, Selma set her feet and whipped the blonde into the ropes. As Sarah hurtled back her way, Selma was getting set for her next piece of offense when she noticed a slight change in the pace of Sarah’s movement. Cursing the Slayer’s apparently limitless reserves, Selma dropped down flat just as the blonde left her feet and soared towards her nemesis with a basic but very effective Flying Forearm. Selma’s luck became the official’s misfortune because the poor dope just happened to be circling around behind the brunette when she ducked out of the way. Sarah didn’t have time to adjust in midair and the zebra ate a full serving of Slayer forearm - going down and out for the night.

Groaning in pain and disgust, Sarah got to her feet and muttered, “That’s fuckin’ great. That’s all I needed!” Knowing she needed to get the ref back on his feet, Sarah bent over him, slapped his face lightly and urged, “Hey buddy, get up! This is no time for a nap; I’ve got a bitch to put dowNNUUGH!” The Slayer’s words degenerated into a mindless howl of pain as Selma’s left foot slammed up between her thighs.

Sneering at the fallen champ with abject hate in her eyes, Selma added, “You took the words right out of my mouth.” Limping over to Sarah’s feet, Selma bent down and grabbed hold of Sarah’s feet. Now holding the Slayer’s ankles in both hands, Selma got to her feet, looked down at her stunned foe and said softly, “You should have let stayed down after the Raid hit. Losing this way is going to hurt a lot more.”

And just because she could, Selma brought her right boot up and then smashing down heel first into Sarah’s womanhood and ground it in with heartless cruelty as the blonde screamed in anguish and tried to pull away. Selma held on for dear life and pulled Sarah back into the center of the ring. Maintaining her death-grip on Sarah’s ankles, she stepped through with her right leg, planting it on the mat next to Sarah’s left hip, then she crossed the captive limbs over her right leg and cinched the hold even tighter. Almost done now, she slowly turned Sarah over onto her stomach and sat down; locking Sarah in the very move she’d used to win the title, the Sharpshooter.

Pulling back on the submission with everything she had left, Selma bounced her butt up and down on Sarah’s quivering rump; she was perfectly content to destroy the blonde’s legs and lower back in the most humiliating manner she could think of. Looking over her shoulder, Selma glared at her victim and taunted, “Don’t you usually make people scream your name at this point? If you ever hope to walk again, I’d suggest doing that right now!”

Tears flowing freely down her face, Sarah shook her head ‘no’ and bawled, “FUCK YOU SELMA! YOU ARE NOT TAKING MY BELT, YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!” Refusing to waste more energy on words, Sarah planted both hands on the mat and pushed up as high as she could go. Using what little leverage this gained, she scratched and clawed her way toward the ropes, trying her best (and failing) to keep from sobbing in anguish.

Realizing what Sarah was trying to do, Selma tensed up and growled, “That’s right bitch, crawl…but it’s not gonna save you!”

When Sarah was only an arm length away from sanctuary, Selma stood up, loosening the pressure on the Sharpshooter considerably. But this was no act of charity; instead Selma merely yanked Sarah back towards the center of the ring and then sat down again, resting her butt rudely on Sarah’s sweat-streaked lower back. Bawling in frustration as Selma yanked freedom away from her, Sarah tried to get her hands under her again, but try as she might, she couldn’t push off the canvas. Reaching futilely for the ropes, her right hand shivered in the air for the longest time before she suddenly brought it down, slapping the mat over and over…surrendering…to Selma…to the pain…and her championship!

When Sarah submitted, Selma let out a roar of triumph, a noise that was almost lost in a burst of cheering from the crowd. Keeping the hold locked in, Selma looked around and said, “Where’s the frikkin’ bell?”

Suddenly, a voice from Selma’s left answered, “They don’t usually ring it when the fall doesn’t count!” She had barely time to turn her head before she got a boot in the face that knocked her off of the defeated Slayer. Smiling, Erica Durance acknowledged the crowd cheering her arrival, “Don’t get excited yet, I’ve gotta set things right first!” Returning her gaze to Selma, Erica sauntered over and hair-hauled her to her feet. Holding the woozy girl at arms length, Erica drew her thumb across her throat and snarled, “THIS’S what happens when you interfere in MY match, bitch; it costs you everything”

She reached up betweeen Selma’s legs with one hand as the other wrapped over Selma’s shoulder. Grunting, Erica lifted the smaller girl up onto her shoulder, then holding her belly down across her shoulder, Erica slapped one arm around her waist and the other behind her neck. Biting her lip in a coy smile, Erica rose onto her toes before she sat out - hard - drilling the back of Selma’s head into the mat.

Leaving Selma sprawled on the mat with ‘The Test of En-Durance’ Erica rose off the brain-rattled brunette, turned on her heel and strutted over to Sarah. Pulling her to her feet as the crowd’s cheers intensified, Erica looked into the Slayer’s face and said, “It should have been ME taking your title Sarah, but I’ll settle for sending you a messaUNNNGHHH!”

From behind her, an unseen interloper Cunt Punted Erica right between the thighs! “And what might that message be Erica? That I’m an interfering loser who can’t EARN her way into title matches?” Digging her hands in Erica’s hair, Jennifer Love Hewitt whirled her around and stuffed the big brunette’s head under her armpit, wrapping her arms under Erica’s and locking her hands at the small of Durance’s back. Before Erica could protest, Jennifer left her feet and fell toward the canvas, spiking Erica’s head into the canvas with a skull-shattering Double Arm DDT!

Rolling Erica away, Love got to her feet and scrambled over to her injured friend, took Sarah’s arm and pulled her to her feet. Standing with her arm around the waist of the woozy Slayer, Jen patted her belly and said, “The match is still on Sarah; you got enough left to finish Selma?”

Gasping for air, Sarah nodded, mumbling, “I think so.”

The curvy brunette nodded back and said, “Good, I’d have felt bad about THIS if your tank was empty…”

As Sarah lifted her head to look at her, Hewitt buried her fist deep in Sarah’s relaxed belly, doubling her over. As the blonde sagged against her, Jen lifted the red-clad beauty onto her shoulders in a Fireman’s Carry. Bouncing Sarah on her shoulder, Jennifer said, “I’m sorry to do it this way, but I want that title too. If I have to piss you off to get my shot, then that’s what I’ll do!” Love spun twice and fell to the side, driving Sarah’s head and shoulders into the unyielding mat with a Death Valley Driver she called ‘The Heartbreaker.’ Rising onto her haunches, Jen looked around and realized she was the only woman not flat on her back. “OK, looks like things are evened up again.”

Getting to her feet, she grabbed Erica’s ankle and dragged the bigger girl to the edge of the ring, then kicked her out onto the floor. Slipping between the ropes, Jennifer Love Hewitt sauntered over to the Timekeeper’s table and sat in an empty seat, watching intently as Sarah and Selma began to stir. “Now, let’s see how this plays out,” the brunette muttered to herself.

Inside the ring, Selma rolled over onto her belly and pushed up to her feet. Holding her head, Selma saw the ref starting to stir - that was all she needed! Fixing a murderous stare on Sarah, Selma limped over to her flattened adversary and pulled Sarah to her feet, trapping her in a Standing Headscissors. Then the brunette turned to face Love, sneering at the seated brunette as she said, “When I’M champ, you’ll be the first bitch I put dowUUUNNGHH!” Selma’s prophesizing was cut off as Sarah wrapped her arms around the brunette’s thighs and dumped her onto her back with a Double Leg Takedown.

Holding Selma’s legs spread in a rude V, Sarah glared down at Selma and sneered, “Let’s see how long you can last.” Attempting to determine the limits of Selma’s endurance, Sarah stepped through with her right leg, planting her foot on the mat at Selma’s left hip. Then she crossed the trapped gams over her right leg and locked them in place, rolling Selma over onto her stomach. Then Sarah sat down, treating Selma to her own stint in the Sharpshooter. Selma flailed wildly as the Sharpshooter destroyed her legs and back, but the lithe brunette refused to give in - at leaset, not just yet!

Getting her hands under her, Selma pulled desperately towards the ropes and was within inches of reaching them when Sarah rose up and marcher her back towards the center of the ring. Settling back down onto Selma’s stretched out back, Sarah pulled back as far as she could, nearly bending Selma in half. Flipping hair from her eyes, the Slayer drove her butt down into the small of Selma’s back one more time and screamed, “SCREAM MY NAME SELMA! SCREAM IT AS LOUD AS YOU CAN RIGHT BEFORE YOU QUIT!”

With her back and knee in shambles and her face being forced against the mat, Selma choked back a sob and made one final attempt to reach the ropes. Still several feet away from freedom, Selma let her hand hover in mid-air a moment, then she started frantically slapping the mat as a sign of her submission. A few feet away, the official’s head cleared just in time to see Selma tapping out. Groaning with relief, the zebra rolled over onto his side and waved for the bell as the crowd went wild.

But when the speakers kicked in, it wasn’t Sarah’s music, ‘Man in the Box’, that played, instead it was ‘You Wouldn’t Believe,’ Richard Fannin’s theme. A rumble of surprise ran through the club and everyone’s head turned to stare at the entryway as the promoter pushed through the curtain; looking as always save for the heavy cast on his right hand.

Sighing heavily, Fannin brought a mic to his lips, “Jeez girls, doesn’t anyone listen to me anymore? Before the match I told the four of you that all I wanted was a clean, screwjob free match and if you could give me that, everyone would come out ahead. But you couldn’t even do that; so I’ve gotta come out here with a hand that looks like a madman’s Erector Set and try to make sense of what just went down.

“Sarah Michelle Gellar won the match - at least the match that referee saw. But if our black and white friend had been conscious earlier, he’d have seen her tap out to Selma’s Sharpshooter and we’d have a new champ. Unfortunately for Selma, he didn’t see it - or any of the subsequent interference which seems to be all the rage these days.

Truth be told, I’m sick of matches that end in controversy; title matches especially! They should be have a clear winner and loser, so that’s what I’m going to give everyone. In my first show of 2007, we’re starting the year right. It’ll be Sarah Michelle Gellar vs. Selma Blair vs. Jennifer Love Hewitt vs. Erica Durance.” The crowd sat in stunned silence for a moment, then let out a huge roar.

“That’s right folks, a ‘Fatal Four Way’ for the World Title. And just to make things even more interesting, the ring will be inside a twenty foot high steel cage. Is that acceptable to all of you?” The four girls involved glared at one another, then all four heads began bobbing up and down like those dogs you see in the back windows of tricked out cars. “Very good. Oh yes, there’s one more detail that must be dealt with. As you can tell, I’m not in the greatest of shape at the moment, and I don’t want to subject myself to any more drama involving the Title until my hand is healed. So as of now, the World Title is vacant,” he said and a loud gasp came up from the crowd. “It will remain vacant until January when the winner of the four way match will be declared the NEW World Heavyweight Champion.” Sarah’s jaw dropped and the Slayer stepped forward to protest but Fannin cut her off with a glance that stopped her in her tracks. “Not now Sarah. I don’t want to hear it. You’re still getting a shot at the belt; be grateful for that!”

Having spoken his mind, the promoter nodded to the audience and disappeared through the curtain, leaving fans and wrestlers alike to mull over the possibilities of who would be the next World Champion.