Carnival Cavalcade Wrestling
CCW Chaos, episode #15: Needed in the Room
In the arena…
The house and ring lights are dark as the opening pyro and music flash and blare overhead.
In ring, Josie Myer, already barefoot, flip-flops tucked under the bottom turnbuckle, stretches and bends in her corner. Despite the crowd roaring under the cacophony above, Josie is calm, breathing deep through her trim stomach. She twists, tests the ropes, smiling across the ring…
…at Jessica Kelly, always fit, but with a trace of bulk these days. She nods across the darkened ring at her opponent as the last of the pyro fizzles out and ring announcer Jimmy Swift brings mic to mouth, center ring.
SWIFT: “The following is our opening contest of the evening, scheduled for one fall!”
The Tale of the Tape
Jessica Kelly is 23, 5’4”, 125lbs, with light brown hair and blue eyes. She wrestles in a backless blue singlet, blue knee pads, and white boots. An underneath girl, she is currently 2-9. Josie Myer, an underneath girl with an 0-8 record, is 24, 5’6”, 125lbs, with a curly mop of dark brown hair and brown eyes. She wrestles barefoot in a plain, black sports bra and cuffed, gray, low-rise sweatpants.
Referee Jessie Motley calls for the bell and, still smiling, the wrestlers circle; Jessica smooth, determined; Josie bouncy, her wild hair distracting.
Jessica Kelly vs. Josie Myer
This is the first match in Interim Commissioner Jules Moreno’s promise to give the underneath girls more opportunities to compete, including against each other. Conventional wisdom might suggest a tentative opening, with both wrestlers afraid to lose to a fellow underneath girl, but there’s none of that here. Jessica aggressively tries to use her grappling ability to ground Josie, wear her down, but the agile former high-school gymnast is able to stay away, landing some light but effective strikes in the match’s first two minutes.
At 2:32, Josie risks a flying dropkick off the ropes and catches Jessica square in the chest with both feet. Kelly is sent to the mat, shoulders first, and Josie swoops down to cradle her legs for a roll-up pin.
The referee is in position.
1…
2…
Jessica uses her bolstered abs and quads to power out of the pin, pushing Josie back to a vertical base. She snares the gymnast’s limbs with her own and rolls Josie’s shoulders to the canvas with an inside cradle.
1…
2…
Josie’s abs and glutes are equal to the task, and she breaks the pin, but it’s a slightly bigger effort for her and she’s a hair slow to her feet, where Jessica runs her over with a running clothesline and lays across her chest and shoulders. Josie’s form and control of her body allow her to kick out right after the two-count, but Jessica doesn’t flinch.
Because now she’s got hold of Josie, and she can go to work.
Over the next three minutes, Jessica keeps Josie on mat with a series of grinding holds, each designed to force Josie to carry Kelly’s weight to maintain her breathing. Through a side headlock on the mat, then a body scissors, then a full nelson, Josie endures the pain and the pressure of the holds, but the weight of Jessica constantly leaning into her starts to sap the strength from the gymnast’s muscles and the breath from her lungs.
Referee Motley, staying with the action, asks Josie for a submission several times, but Josie refuses to quit.
At 5:32, Jessica, as cool and calm as she’s ever been in a wrestling ring, uses a simple Greco-Roman knuckle lock to power Josie’s shoulders onto the mat. Grunting, sweaty, starting to fade, Josie plants her feet and twists her hips to force her shoulder off the mat at one, but Jessica’s re-doubled attempt to overpower her has Josie panting and crying out. She bucks as hard as she can and gets a shoulder off the canvas…at two and three quarters.
Jessica releases the knuckle lock and stalks Josie, who spins onto her belly and claws at the mat, reaching for the ropes. Jessica pulls Josie up by her wild curls and moves behind her for another hold, but Josie throws a back elbow that smashes Jessica’s jaw. Staggering, hands on her face, Jessica wanders to the center of the ring, where, Josie, screaming, hits her in the abs with a spear.
It’s enough to send Jessica sprawling to the mat, but Josie’s simple cross-body pin isn’t nearly enough, and Kelly pushes her shoulder up at one.
Red-faced, panting, Josie pulls Jessica up and goes for a scoop slam, but the cumulative effect of the holds she’s endured is too much. Her back arched, stiff, she drops to one knee with a sharp cry.
Her stance wide, Jessica brings both hands down on Josie’s back with a hard double ax handle, sending her to the mat, chest first.
Jessica straddles her fallen opponent and sits down on the small of her back. Josie, groaning, offers no resistance as Jessica pulls her arms up and into position for a camel clutch. Jessica wraps her hands around Josie’s jaw and uses her weight and legs to bend Josie’s back at an unholy angle. Josie’s groans burst into screams, her feet pounding the mat, her fists clenched.
The referee drops to her knees in front of Josie.
MOTLEY: “You want to give it up? C’mon, Josie, let me ring it.”
Her face scarlet and twisted with agony, the skin stretched taut across her exposed throat, Josie, forces the words out.
JOSIE: “Fuck…No…No!”
Shaking her head, Jessica pulls Josie’s head back further and sits down on her back harder. She winces at the sound of Josie’s anguished shriek.
MOTLEY: “Come on, Josie, that’s it now. Let me ring it. Please!”
Her toes curled tight, fists clenching frantically, tears bursting from her eyes, Josie reaches back for something…anything…but it’s not there.
JOSIE: “Fuckfuckfuck…yes! I give up! I submit!”
Jessica releases the hold before the timekeeper can ring the bell at 7:32. She gets to her feet, ecstatic, and celebrates her first-ever CCW singles win. Motley raises her hand, and she climbs to the second turnbuckle, hands high overhead, drinking in the glory the crowd gives her.
It’s just Jessica’s third-ever win, but she dominated. She’s now 3-9. Josie remains winless, and now she’s lost to a fellow underneath girl. She’s 0-9.
Josie tries to push up from the canvas, but the searing pain lancing through her back, neck, and shoulders keeps her face down. Her tears, drool, and sweat collect around her red cheek, pressed to the mat.
Jessica watches as the referee gets down on all fours next to Josie, then makes her way up the aisle before the cheers die down.
MOTLEY: “I’m not gonna touch you, Josie. Can you roll out? Then I’ll help you to the back?”
JOSIE: “I can’t move, ref…hurts so much…”
MOTLEY: “OK, babe. Stay still. I’ll get the docs.”
In the underneath locker room…
Cassie Rae, Sunny Austin, and Riley Slade, dressed to wrestle; and Melora O’Brien, Gothica, and Tiffany Green, in street clothes, are gathered around the small, cracked monitor. Gothica is in a full-length black catsuit and platform flip-flops. That just bears mentioning.
On the long bench away from the lockers, Zehra, who’s always barefoot in her harem gear, sits with her feet on the bench and together, knees up, arms wrapped around them.
Over at the lockers, Teresa Salazar’s is open, and her gear bag is on the floor in front of it, but she’s not in the room. That doesn’t stop Sunny from periodically throwing a scornful look at the open locker.
On the monitor, referee Motley and Brit, the assistant trainer, are rolling Josie, who looks like she’s been in a car accident, slowly onto a backboard.
MELORA: “Jesus Mary, I’ve never seen Jess Kelly that aggressive.”
TIFFANY: “I know. She made Josie her bitch. Damn.”
Gothica looks sidelong at Tiffany, arms folded.
CASSIE: “It’s definitely not a Jess we’ve seen, but I’m proud of her. She went out there and made a statement. (glances around at the others) Feels like this is the time for that.”
SUNNY: “I do feel bad for Josie, though. That was a little hard to watch. And she tries so hard.”
CASSIE (rubbing Sunny’s lower back): “Maybe I should head to trainer’s room and make sure sh-”
GOTHICA: “No!”
Everyone looks at her.
CASSIE: “Aubrey?”
GOTHICA: “I’d like…if it’s OK, Cass. I think…it should be me who’d like to…that I be the one to…to check on Josie.”
CASSIE: “Of course, babe. You don’t need permission.”
GOTHICA (fidgety, gaze wandering): “I know, I just…I’d like to be, y’know, the one who, the only one…who goes.”
It’s suppressed smiles among the others as Cassie gives the nod. Gothica shuffles to the door and opens it.
GOTHICA: “Oh. Hey.”
She slips out past Sizzlin’ Scarlett Jackson, in gear, who steps into the room as far as the first lockers.
SCARLETT: “Hey, y’all. I came to see if Tiffany is available.”
Tiffany looks at Cassie like a child when the ice-cream man is outside.
CASSIE (laughing): “You know, I’m not actually any of your moms. Jeez.”
Giggling, Tiffany goes to meet Scarlett, who looks past her to catch Sunny’s eye.
SCARLETT: “Hey, you take of business tonight, my girl. I want a trilogy with you.”
Cassie, rubbing Sunny’s back, smiles at her while Sunny nods at Scarlett.
SUNNY: “I want that too.”
Scarlett returns the nod. She and Tiffany leave, pulling the door closed behind them.
Riley, palms up, turns to the others.
RILEY: “So…does Gothica like Josie or something?”
At the Sideshow Stage…
Wink McLean, impeccable, just impeccable, stands before the backdrop with CCW Champion Betty Magnum, who still bears the marks of her steel-cage war with Outlaw Annie Hook. The title belt, also battered, is strapped around her waist.
MCLEAN: “Betty Magnum, congratulations on retaining the CCW Championship in that violent cage match against a dastardly opponent.
BETTY: “Thank you, Wink. I doubt we’ve seen the last of Annie Hook, but I’m ready to look ahead.”
MCLEAN: “Speaking of, tonight, The Iron Maiden and Anna Konda, who are both gunning for your title, are partners in a tag-team match. How do you think they’ll function as a team?”
BETTY: “Well, that’s up to them. Both those girls are forces of nature in this company, but they’ve always worked alone, like me. I’ll be watching tonight. If Maiden and Konda can work together, it could be a long night for Hannah Hammer and Cassie Rae.”
MCLEAN: “All right, fans. That’s the word from Betty Magnum, still your CCW Champion. Thanks, champ.”
BETTY (smiling): “You got it.
In the arena…
Chloe Suzuki and Shauna Carson are already in the ring for the next match. Shauna, beautiful and thicc, leans in the corner, arms draped over the top rope, one foot on the bottom turnbuckle. She tosses her long blonde hair and smiles at the men ogling and catcalling her. But then her gaze wanders to her partner and she wilts.
SHAUNA: “What’s wrong?”
Chloe is in her usual gear but she’s got a white Okinawans Are Hot tee on over it that extends down past her waist. She wipes her feet on the mat, shaking her head.
CHLOE: “We’re gonna get fucking killed in this match, for one thing.”
SHAUNA (straightens from the corner): “I mean, yeah, but it’s the tag-team champs.”
CHLOE: “I get that. I just feel…I dunno, stiff? Sorry, babe, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
SHAUNA: “Do you want me to start and just stay in?”
CHLOE: “I can’t ask you to do that.”
SHAUNA: “It’s OK. You shouldn’t be in there if you feel…off like this. Plus, I mean… (shrugs) we’re gonna lose anyway. Might as well be the blond bimbo who gets pinned.”
CHLOE: “Shauna, come on.”
Shauna stretches her arms and shoulders.
SHAUNA: “Chloe, please, let me do this for you.”
Her head down, gaze on the mat, Chloe’s hand wanders to Shauna’s arm and gives it a squeeze.
The Tale of the Tape
Chloe Suzuki is 20, 5’, 115lbs with black hair and hazel eyes. An underneath girl with a 1-7 record, she’s wrestling barefoot with a long tee over her red bra top and red booty shorts. The red wrist and ankle tape is in place as usual. Shauna Carson is 21, 5’5”, 145lbs with blonde hair and blue eyes. She’s an underneath girl with a record of 0-7. Shauna wrestles barefoot in a cheetah-print singlet and black knee pads. They are the opponents for the tag team champions. All-American Amy Steel, a star, enters with a record of 17-3. She is 26, 5’8”, 160lbs, with dirty-blonde hair and blue eyes. She wrestles in a garish, patriotic-themed bra top with matching short shorts, knee pads, and boots. BRICKHOUSE, a brawling star, is 28, 5’9”, 160lbs, with dyed dark-red hair and green eyes. Her record is 21-4. She wrestles in a black, sleeveless bodysuit with a brick pattern down the front and red & black boots.
The tag champs are all smiles, smirks, and sneers as they make their way down the aisle to Steel’s over-the-top red, white, and blue music and pyro. Chloe is already on the apron, feet together, tee-shirt still on, when the All-American and the tall brawler hit the ring. Steel eyes Shauna, who’s standing in her corner, hands on her hips.
STEEL: “You ready for me, pork chop?”
SHAUNA (rolling her eyes): “Whatever.”
STEEL: “Ha! I think maybe I’ll let BRICKHOUSE have you. And maybe your little worthless partner too.”
Shauna glances back at Chloe, who’s looking out at the crowd, her expression blank.
Referee Randy Hickman calls for the bell.
Non-Title Match
All-American Amy Steel & BRICKHOUSE vs. Chloe Suzuki & Shauna Carson
It’s indeed BRICKHOUSE who starts against Shauna. She effortlessly overpowers the barefoot blonde off the lockup, forcing Shauna into the corner, and drives a knee into her soft belly. BRICKHOUSE beals Shauna out of the corner before the referee can chastise her, then stalks her prey.
Shauna, hand on her back, struggles to her feet and turns around just in time to eat a big boot to the forehead from BRICKHOUSE.
With Amy Steel watching and snickering from the apron in one corner and Chloe staring into space — the male fans closest to her booing her for staying covered up — in the other, BRICKHOUSE takes her time picking Shauna apart over the next 90 seconds. A body slam, a leg drop, and a back suplex take all the fight out of Shauna, who, panting, moaning, crying out in pain, but never makes a move toward her partner.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Satisfied, or bored, BRICKHOUSE scoops Shauna up onto her shoulder, holding her there with one arm. With her mushy middle draped over BRICKHOUSE’S brawny shoulder, Shauna struggles to breathe while the tall brawler parades her around the ring. Steel, laughing, gives her partner the thumbs down, and BRICKHOUSE buries Shauna in the mat with a running powerslam.
Breathless, helpless, hopeless, Shauna lays out spread eagle and groans her total surrender to BRICKHOUSE’S two-handed press pin on her chest and stomach. The referee tolls the uncontested 1-2-3 and calls for the bell at 2:16.
The tag champs notch an effortless victory in a virtual handicap match against a hopelessly outclassed opponent.
BRICKHOUSE gives Shauna a nice, hard slap across the face before getting to her feet to get her hand raised. Steel, who did absolutely nothing in the match, plants her star-spangled boot deep in Shauna’s heaving belly and raises both hands, bellowing in victory.
Chloe, feet on the concrete floor, hands on the mat, watches the tag champs humiliate Shauna, but stays put. She wipes a tear from one eye.
In the underneath locker room…
Cassie, Melora, and Riley watch the monitor, where Steel and BRICKHOUSE soak up the boos as the referee rolls what’s left of Shauna out of the ring, somehow touching her breast and her ass along the way.
CASSIE: “Fucking Hickman. Jules should fire him.”
MELORA: “Isn’t he the one you kicked in the balls that time to get DQ’d.”
CASSIE: “Yep.”
Melora and Riley giggle, but the look on Cassie’s face makes Riley’s brow knit.
RILEY: “What is it? I’m sure Shauna will be OK.”
CASSIE: “It’s not her I’m worried about. (her gaze narrows at the screen) There’s something wrong with Chloe.”
At the Sideshow Stage…
Back in front of the CCW backdrop, Wink McLean stands between The Coal Miner’s Daughters, who are already glaring at him.
MCLEAN: “Shannon, Brianna, we’ve just seen the tag team champions decimate their opponents in a scene that must look familiar to you.”
SHANNON: “McLean, do you try to insult us when we’re out here?”
MCLEAN: “Of course not, but you have to admit-”
BRIANNA: “We don’t have to admit anything, least of all to a man like you. (turns to the camera) Here’s something we’ll tell everyone in this company. All-American Amy Steel and BRICKHOUSE have nothing on us. They’re just holding our tag-team belts until we’re ready to take’em back.”
MCLEAN: “Does that mean you let Steel and BRICKHOUSE beat you for the titles in the first place?”
The Daughters stare until McLean offers up the microphone. Shannon takes it.
SHANNON: “Amy Steel and her lackey can wait. My sister and I are on a mission to purge CCW of all the amoral scum seeping out of the walls of this arena. Women like Sunny Austin, Chloe Suzuki, that chubby blonde, that sleazy belly dancer…and Gothica. (she shakes her head, so does Brianna) That disgusting whore is the worst one of all. She has no business being in a wrestling ring. If Bri and I ever run across her, we’ll send her back to her street corner, right on the spot.”
Brianna takes the mic.
BRIANNA: “That’s the way our daddy taught us, and that’s the way we’re gonna teach you.”
She shoves the mic into McLean’s chest and the Daughters leave the shot.
MCLEAN (rubbing his chest): “For her sake, I hope Gothica is nowhere near the CCW Arena tonight.”
In the trainer’s room…
Josie, lying on her stomach on one of the exam tables, arms at her sides, blinks awake to find Gothica sitting next to her on a folding chair, their eyes level.
JOSIE: “You look hot.”
GOTHICA: “Thanks, crazy person. How do you feel?”
JOSIE: “Where are we?”
GOTHICA: “In the trainer’s room. You were asleep when I got here. Brit said she gave you some stuff to relax you. Guess it put you to sleep.”
JOSIE: “Not the first time I’ve been put to sleep in this building.”
GOTHICA (head tilted): “Poor baby. Brit gave you pain killers too.”
JOSIE: “Good, cuz I’m pretty sure Jess broke my back.”
GOTHICA: “She didn’t. But, Jo, she did tweak it. Brit said you should probably stay out of the ring for a couple weeks.”
JOSIE: “Oh good. At least I won’t lose any more matches that way.”
GOTHICA: “Come on, none of that. You guys went like eight minutes out there.”
JOSIE: “I thought I could beat her. (she pushes herself up, Gothica springs from the chair to help her get to a seated position) Usually, I go in knowing I’m probably gonna lose, but I try to learn from it, y’know?”
GOTHICA (nodding): “I do know. I love that about you.”
JOSIE: “This match, I dunno. (shrugs) I love Jess, and I know she’s a good wrestler but…she’s one of us. I thought I could maybe I beat her.”
GOTHICA: “You could have.”
JOSIE: “No, come on, dude. Most of that eight minutes was her kicking my ass. (she shakes her head) And submitting was embarrassing. (she looks Gothica in the eye) I feel like I’m getting embarrassed in there a lot lately.”
GOTHICA: “Babe..”
Gothica takes both of Josie’s hands, then jerks her hands back, wide-eyed.
GOTHICA: “Oh god, Josie, I’m sorry, I…I wasn’t...”
Smiling, Josie, reaches out and takes Gothica’s hands.
JOSIE: “It’s OK. I don’t mind.”
Josie’s toes brush the front of Gothica’s legs.
JOSIE: “Come here.”
Gothica steps close to the table. Still holding hands, she and Josie lean forward until their foreheads touch. Josie slowly wraps her legs around the backs of Gothica’s thighs.
JOSIE: “Is this OK?”
Eyes closed, smiling, Gothica’s breathing hitches, quivering in her throat.
GOTHICA: “Yes…”
In the arena…
Sunny Austin, angry; and Teresa Salazar are both in the ring for the next match. Teresa smirks across the ring as she loosens her wrists and shoulders.
The Tale of the Tape
Underneath girl Sunny Austin is 24, 5’11”, 140lbs, with blonde hair and blue eyes. Her current record is 8-14. She wrestles barefoot in an orange-and-white bikini. Teresa Salazar is an underneath girl with an 5-7 record. She is 44, 5’8”, 135lbs, with brown hair and brown eyes. She wrestles in a backless, blood-red singlet, cut high over her hips, black knee pads, and black boots with a blood-red flame pattern embroidered in them.
Referee Clark Sierra keeps a wary eye on both wrestlers as Jimmy Swift clears his throat.
SWIFT: “The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it will determine the number one contender to the Tri-County Championship!”
The intros are quick and to the point, but Teresa’s is largely drowned out by cheers for Sunny, who, staring across the ring at her opponent, doesn’t acknowledge them at all.
The referee calls for the ball.
Sunny Austin vs. Teresa Salazar
Sunny starts fast, but not frenetic. Her face pink, her jaw set, Sunny keeps control of her emotions, and her body, and goes to work.
Not good news for Teresa, who has to wrestle defensively from the outset. She’s able to counter and escape the basic holds Sunny attempts, but most of the kicks from the bikini blonde’s long, strong legs get through and, at 2:03, Teresa bails to the outside, holding her back and stomach.
The referee begins the 10-count to bring Teresa back in the ring. Sunny, cool and calm, hops up to sit on the top turnbuckle and gives the crowd a little cheesecake pose to a huge cheer.
On the floor, Teresa bangs the mat with both hands. A lot can happen outside the ring, but Sunny knows Teresa has to get back in or she’ll lose by count-out. Teresa takes a deep breath, one hand on the bottom rope, and rolls back in with the referee’s count at six.
Adjusting to Sunny’s demeanor, Teresa changes tactics, trying to go on the offensive. But Sunny falls back on her speed and agility, and Teresa can’t lay a hand on her. Worse, Sunny picks spots and lands some sharp kicks to Teresa’s sides, back, and thighs. Panting, hobbling a bit, Teresa rolls out to the floor again and, again, slams her hands on the apron.
TERESA: “Fuck!”
Some in the crowd laugh as Sunny’s reaction to Teresa’s raging frustration is another sexy pose, this time with her back draped over the top turnbuckle.
Screaming, Teresa slides back into the ring and charges at Sunny, who calmly snares her in a flying head scissors and takes her over onto the mat. Sprawling, Teresa can’t scramble fast enough before Sunny rearranges her legs into a body scissors. Sunny locks her ankles, feet rigid, and bears down.
Teresa screams.
The referee is on the case.
SIERRA: “Come on, Teresa, you give up? You wanna quit?”
TERESA: “No! Never! (she looks right at Sunny) Never!”
Sunny, sweaty, squeezes, teeth grit. Teresa’s shriek pierces the rafters. Grunting, desperate, she stabs elbows down into Sunny’s thighs. There’s not enough leverage or power behind them to break the hold, but one of them catches Sunny in just the right spot and she yelps. Teresa targets the spot again, but Sunny rolls to her stomach before Teresa can strike. Sunny’s roll turns Teresa onto her back, her legs up over her head, her shoulders on the mat.
TERESA: “No! Noooo!”
Referee Sierra is in position.
1…
Teresa, wide-eyed, reaches, stretches, but the bottom rope is much too far away.
2…
Her legs flailing, useless, Teresa twists her hips just enough to bring her legs into the arc of the referee’s counting arm and he gets tangled in them up to the shoulder.
The added weight pushes Teresa over onto her side and breaks the body scissors. Sunny scrambles to her feet, palms up.
SUNNY: “What the fuck, Clark? Was that three?”
On his knees, the referee yanks him arm from between Teresa’s legs and gets to his feet.
SIERRA: “She got in the way, Sunny, I didn’t hit the three. I’m sorry. It was an accident.”
SUNNY: “That should be three, Clark. Goddammit!”
SIERRA: “Sunny, I can’t give you the match. We got tangled up. I’m sorry.”
Sunny, hands gripping her blonde mane, bellows her frustration.
Teresa, on her knees behind Sunny, reaches up with two fingers and unties Sunny’s bikini top.
Sunny’s hands spring to her breasts, elbows tight to her sides, holding the top in place. But then Teresa’s arms encircle her waist and lock over her stomach, the front of Teresa’s hips pressed to the back of hers, and Sunny closes her eyes.
SUNNY: “Fuck…”
Her boots planted, her grip on Sunny’s waist cinched tight, Teresa pops her hips and, with everything she’s got left, cranks Sunny over backward with a perfect German suplex. Sunny’s shoulders and upper back crash to the canvas to a thunderous slam. With a guttural bellow, Teresa bridges up, forcing her hips in the air and Sunny’s shoulders into the canvas.
Starry-eyed, head lolling, Sunny’s hands slip from her breasts, and her arms flop out on the mat. With the bikini top askew but still in place, Sunny’s legs wave weakly as the referee counts the pin and calls for the bell at 5:42.
Teresa finds yet another way to steal one. She’s now 6-7. Sunny drops to 8-15.
Teresa releases Sunny and pushes her over on her side. Still dazed, Sunny lies limp as Teresa reties the bikini strings before pushing to her feet. Referee Sierra, his face twisted with guilt, raises Teresa’s hand, then drops to his knees to check on Sunny.
SWIFT: “Here is your winner and the number one contender for the Tri-County Championship…Teresa Salazaaaar!”
A lopsided mix of boos and some cheers pours onto Teresa, who drops to her knees, fists up over her head.
TERESA: “Yes! Fucking yes, baby!”
In the interim commissioner’s office…
Her hair, makeup, and maroon power suit on point, Jules Moreno watches the big, pristine monitor, where Sunny, still looking woozy, is back on her feet, the referee hovering nearby.
JULES (shaking her head): “Damn, Teresa Salazar is one crafty bitch. I thought, for sure, Sunny had that match in the bag.”
Sarah Lawrence, standing alongside Jules’ chair, shrugs, clipboard clutched to her chest.
SARAH: “I guess that’s why we have the matches. Isn’t that the old cliché?”
JULES: “It’s an old cliché, anyway. (they look across the desk) Sorry about that, Chloe. Just wanted to see how that turned out. What can we do for you?”
Chloe Suzuki, eyes glassy, is in her street clothes — a red athletic tank and leggings, with red sneakers — hands wrapped around her elbows.
CHLOE: “I want to quit, Ms. Moreno.”
Jules and Sarah exchange a worried look.
JULES: “What’s…why do you want to quit?”
CHLOE: “I just do. (shrugs) I don’t want to be here anymore.”
SARAH: “You don’t want to wrestle here, or you don’t want to wrestle at all?”
CHLOE (shrugs, shifting her weight): “Does it matter? I want out of my contract, Ms. Moreno, whatever that takes. (tears up) Please?”
Jules and Sarah share another look.
JULES: “Chloe, if there’s something wrong, maybe we can help you.”
CHLOE: “There’s nothing wrong. I just don’t want to wrestle anymore, OK? That’s it.”
SARAH: “Then why are you crying?”
CHLOE (crying) I’m not! (throws her hands up and drops into one of the two chairs opposite Jules’ desk) I’m not…”
Sarah leaves the clipboard on Jules’ desk and goes around to sit in the chair next to Chloe. She reaches out and touches Chloe’s shoulder.
JULES: “Chloe, you’re a talented wrestler. I know your record might not reflect that now but-”
CHLOE: “It’s not about that. God. (Sarah pulls her hand back) I know what being an underneath girl here is.”
SARAH: “OK, babe, we just want to help you if we can. You’re so amazing, we don’t want to lose you.”
JULES: “Chloe, if you want to be released from your contract, I will accommodate you. No penalties; a clean break. I’ll even make sure you’re paid through the end of the month. But if there’s something Sarah, or I, or someone else can do for you, we’d like to know.”
SARAH: “Do you want to maybe talk to Cassie?”
CHLOE: “God, no! (fresh wave of tears) I’d be so fucking embarrassed…”
SARAH: “Why?”
JULES: “Chloe, please look at me.”
She does.
JULES: “You wore a tee-shirt to wrestle tonight, and you didn’t tag into your match. Those things aren’t you.”
CHLOE: “I know…”
JULES: “If I were to say I think, as brave as you are, and as strong as you are, there are things that’ve happened to you here that are still bothering you, would that be true? At all?”
CHLOE (nodding): “I’m so sorry, Ms. Moreno. I tried to be OK. I tried so hard…”
SARAH: “Oh god, babe…”
Sarah gets up and wraps her arms around Chloe, who grips Sarah’s forearm with both hands and sobs.
Jules pulls a box of tissues from a drawer and slides them across the desk.
JULES: “Chloe, listen to me. If you want to quit, I get it, and we’ll arrange it. But I will tell you I would very much like to help you through this and see you flying around our ring again. If that’s possible, I’d like to keep you under contract, and we’ll arrange some help for you. On the company’s dime.”
SARAH: “I’m sure we can get you that help even if you don’t stay here, right commissioner?”
Jules and Sarah exchange an intense look. Jules shrugs.
JULES: “Sure, yes. We can get you the help either way. But Chloe… (catches her eye) you can be a star here.”
Sarah puts herself between Chloe and the desk and kneels, blocking Jules from Chloe’s line of sight. She lays her hands on Chloe’s knees.
SARAH: “Go get better. It’s the only way to really come back.”
Sarah snags some tissues and hands then to Chloe.
CHLOE (wiping, sniffling): “OK…OK, I’ll do it.”
Chloe and Sarah hug. Jules comes around the desk.
JULES: “We’ll consider it a leave of absence, Chloe. You stay under contract, you stay on the payroll, and, when you’re ready, you come back.”
Sarah clears the way for Chloe to get up and share a brief, awkward hug with Jules.
In a backstage hallway…
Hannah Hammer and Cassie Rae, in gear, head for the ring.
Sunny Austin sits slouched on a folding chair against the wall, head in her hands.
Cassie tells Hannah to hold up, then lets a few techs pass and crosses to Sunny. She kneels down, hands on Sunny’s thighs.
CASSIE: “Hey, beautiful girl. Shouldn’t you be with the trainer?”
SUNNY (head still down): “I’m fine.”
CASSIE: “Then what’re you doing here?”
SUNNY (looks up, wraps her arms around her middle): “I cannot believe I lost, Cass. That sneaky bitch is gonna get a title shot now. All because I’m fucking…Malibu Barbie out there.”
CASSIE: “So maybe… (she slides her hands down Sunny’s calves to her feet and massages the arches) we get you some new gear.”
Sunny closes her eyes, moans slightly.
SUNNY: “That feels good…”
CASSIE (smiling): “Good.”
SUNNY: “You think the office would let me wear something different?”
CASSIE (still massaging): “I think you’re gonna be a star. There’s no stopping it. And stars wear what they want.”
SUNNY (blushing): “I love you.”
Cassie pushes back to her feet, her hands on Sunny’s thighs.
CASSIE: “I love you too, superstar. We’ll talk more about this later.”
They share a soft, passionate kiss.
CASSIE: “Now wish me and Hannah luck. I think we’re gonna need it.”
In the underneath locker room…
Jessica and Teresa sit at their open lockers, both somewhere between ring gear and street clothes.
JESSICA: “Good win. (slight smirk) Clever win.”
TERESA: “Thanks. You really took care of business tonight. Never seen you like that.”
JESSICA: “My first singles win. Just the start. I hope.”
TERESA: “Josie’s a good girl.”
JESSICA (looks over): “What?”
TERESA: “I’m saying, Josie, she’s a good girl.”
JESSICA: “Yeah. She is.”
TERESA: “Kinda…I dunno, you really cranked her back there at the end.”
JESSICA (glances around the room): “Did she…she never came back?”
TERESA: “I don’t think so. Gothica went to see her in the trainer’s room. I don’t think they came back.”
JESSICA: “I… It was my first singles win, Teresa. I wanted it.”
TERESA: “Girl, I hear you. And I’m the last bitch in here who should be talking about what’s right. But this room needs Josie, y’know? Just like it needs Cassie. Just like it needs you.”
They share a look. And a nod.
In the arena…
Hannah Hammer and Cassie Rae, hands on hips, watch from the ring as Anna Konda slinks her way down the aisle.
The Tale of the Tape
Hannah Hammer is a star with an 9-3 record. She is 23, 5’7”, 160lbs, with brown hair and hazel eyes. She wrestles in short denim overalls, a yellow tee, and brown work boots. Cassie Rae is an underneath girl with a 6-17 record. She’s 34, 5’3”, and 130lbs, with dark brown hair and hazel eyes. She wrestles in a half tee, low-rise cutoff jean shorts, and short black wrestling boots. A towering, powerful star, The Iron Maiden is 35, 6’, 175lbs, with dyed silver hair and gray eyes under mushroom cloud contacts. She wrestles in a black & silver, sleeveless, full-length bodysuit, a silver-studded black belt, and chunky two-tone black & silver boots. She’s 12-3. Anna Konda enters this match at 20-3. A star, she is 32, 5’7”, 138lbs, with golden brown hair and light brown eyes. She wrestles in a snake-print bodysuit and ballet flats laced up her calves.
This is Hannah’s first match since Teresa Salazar knocked her out with brass knuckles to steal a win three weeks ago. For Cassie, this is her first match in a month. The last time she wrestled she beat Tiana Miles, her ex-lover, banishing her from CCW forever.
Her bodysuit glinting in the ring lights, Anna Konda struts around the ring, sparing her opponents only a quick glare.
Jimmy Swift fires up the pipes to make the last introduction as referee Jack Blake moves Konda into her corner.
In the other corner, Hannah turns to Cassie.
HANNAH: “I feel weird.”
CASSIE: “Are you sure this is the time for this?”
HANNAH: “I never been on this side of it, the underdogs. And I lost my last one.”
CASSIE: “Well, I won my last one. And I never win. So, we’re even.”
It takes a second for Hannah to see Cassie’s smile.
HANNAH (smiling, shaking her head): “Do we have any chance here?”
CASSIE: “They’re competing with us, and with each other. We’re just competing with them.”
HANNAH: “Well, I’ll be damned.”
CASSIE: “That’s the chance we’ve got. Just don’t let them isolate me. I’m not a match for either of them.”
HANNAH: “I…OK, got it.”
The Iron Maiden & Anna Konda vs. Hannah Hammer & Cassie Rae
The referee calls for the bell and Hannah starts with Konda, who tries early and often to wrap Hannah up in one of her deadly submissions. But the down-home strong girl, who Melora once said was like wrestling a refrigerator, is determined. She shakes Konda off repeatedly, never getting trapped in any hold for any length of time.
Then, at 3:34, Hannah does a little grappling of her own, snaring Konda in a side headlock. She takes the beautiful Brazilian over her hip and to the mat, but Konda wriggles out the back door and tags The Iron Maiden.
As one of the strongest women in CCW, Hannah can match power with Maiden, but she’s nowhere near the wrestler. Slowly, surely, Maiden wears Hannah down. But Hammer remains resilient. She kicks out of a Maiden suplex at two, and a hard Maiden clothesline is only good for another near fall. Still, Hannah is losing. Cassie can see it, and her encouragement from the corner isn’t doing much good.
At 6:21, with Konda steaming on the apron, Maiden boots Hannah in the gut and sets her up for the Fallout Power Bomb.
CASSIE: “Fuck…”
Maiden hoists Hannah up like she’s just a small icebox and buries her in the canvas. Hannah splatters out, belly heaving under her overalls. Maiden, grinning, puts a knee on Hannah’s chest, and referee Blake drops down.
1…
2…
The sole Cassie’s brand-new little black boot blasts Maiden in the temple and she tumbles back.
Cassie rolls Hannah toward their corner, then hops over Maiden and grabs Konda by the hair with both hands. She pulls the screaming Brazilian’s ear to her mouth.
CASSIE: “If she wins, she’ll get the title shot.”
Using her body weight and leverage, Cassie pulls Konda over the top and into the ring, where the submission assassin crashes to the mat on her backside.
The Iron Maiden is up. She lunges for Cassie, but a dive delivers Cassie through her legs. Cassie hops over Hannah and, grabbing her overall straps, drags her toward their corner.
Seething, Maiden turns, looking to stalk Cassie down, but Konda drives a flying knee into her back. Maiden staggers forward, trips over Hannah’s legs, and tumbles head-first through the ropes to the concrete floor. The referee begins his count.
With Hannah sufficiently dragged and starting to come around, Cassie hops back out to the apron, makes sure the referee sees her, and tags Hannah’s back, making herself the legal woman for her team.
On the outside, Maiden regains her feet just in time for Konda to suicide dive through the ropes and straight into her chest. They both go down in heap near the timekeeper’s table.
Hannah, groggy, pulls herself to her feet on the apron, using the ropes. Cassie is in her face.
CASSIE: “Can you give me a dive to the outside?”
HANNAH: “I…what?”
The referee’s count is at five. On the floor, Maiden and Konda untangle.
CASSIE (hands on Hannah’s shoulders): “Babe, we can win this if you trust me. Do you?”
HANNAH (still a little unsteady): “Yeah…I do.”
CASSIE: “Come in, hit the far ropes, and come right at me.”
The count is at seven. Maiden and Konda are back up. Maiden, the legal woman, floors Konda with a back elbow, then staggers to the apron
Nodding, Hannah steps through the ropes and charges to the far side.
Maiden gets a hand on the bottom rope.
8…
Hannah, with a huge head of steam on the rebound, chugs straight for Cassie, who’s standing with her back to the ropes Maiden is about to climb through.
9…
Timing her move, Cassie hits her own partner with a drop toehold. Hannah bellyflops onto the mat and slides straight under the bottom rope, knocking Maiden back to the floor.
10.
Konda, kneeling on the concrete, screams in horror as referee Blake calls for the bell at 8:03. He raises the cackling Cassie’s arm as Jimmy Swift makes it official.
SWIFT: “Here are your winners as a result of a count-out, the team of Hannah Hammer and Cassie…Rae!”
The crowd half cheers, half laughs as Konda gets her kick on all over the fallen Maiden.
Hannah struggles back to her feet. Cassie slides out to help her up the aisle.
HANNAH: “So help me, girl. How the hell did we win that?”
CASSIE: “I was legal, so you leaving the ring didn’t restart the count. The rest was physics.”
HANNAH (shaking her head at Cassie’s grin): “I don’t like to cuss, but that was the goddammedest match I ever been in. You are smart as hell, Cassie Rae.”
CASSIE: “We do what we can, Hannah Hammer. We do what we can…”
Fade Out
