Carnival Cavalcade Wrestling
CCW Chaos, episode #10: A Home for Cassie Rae
In the arena…
Tiffany Green and Riley Slade are already in the ring for the opening match, a rematch from five weeks ago. Neither looks happy about it. Tiffany glances over at referee Roger Clayton.
TIFFANY: “I’d say we could just kick the ref in his balls, Cassie-style, but I feel like we’d get punished this time.”
RILEY: “I feel like this is my punishment for beating Tiana two weeks ago.”
TIFFANY: “And these two fucked us up last time…”
RILEY: “Well, listen, I want to start. And if they pin me, or make me tap, I don’t care. (she bounces on the balls of her feet, shaking her hands and arms out) I’m not afraid of getting hurt or losing. I’m a wrestler. Just like the rest of you guys.”
TIFFANY (smiling): “I like that. Little Cassie is growing up.”
RILEY (smirking back): “Yeah, ‘Little Cassie’ is probably gonna end up screaming or knocked out in this match.”
TIFFANY (shadow boxing): “If I can, I’ll end up right there with you.”
RILEY: “Oh man, girl. (giggling, shaking her head) We are living that underneath life.”
TIFFANY (laughing): “I know that’s right.”
They high-five.
The Tale of the Tape
Tiffany Green is 27, 5’7”, 140lbs, with black hair and brown eyes. She wrestles in a green-camo bra top, black athletic leggings with white stripes down the sides, and two-tone black & white boxing shoes. Tiffany is an underneath girl with an 1-8 record. The youngest wrestler on the roster, Riley Slade is 19, 5’4”, 115lbs, with light brown hair and hazel eyes. An underneath girl with an 1-7 record, she wrestles in a tee-shirt knotted into a crop top, cutoff booty jean shorts, and white Skippy sneakers. They are the opponents for the tag team champions. All-American Amy Steel, a star, enters with a record of 15-3. 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. Her partner is BRICKHOUSE, a brawling star. She’s 28, 5’9”, 160lbs, with dyed dark-red hair and green eyes. Her record is 19-4. She wrestles in a black, sleeveless bodysuit with a brick pattern down the front and red & black boots.
Ring announcer Jimmy Swift, Adam’s apple bobbing, introduces the recently crowned tag team champions, and Amy Steel and BRICKHOUSE make their way down the aisle to Steel’s loud, obnoxious patriotic music and pyro. Jokey and jovial with each other, sneering at the crowd, the tag champs climb into the ring, belts gleaming around their trim waists. They hand the titles off the referee, then BRICKHOUSE does some prep in the corner while Steel sneers at Riley.
STEEL: “Hey, little girl. Don’t think I’ve forgotten last time. You got a receipt coming to you, Princess Walmart.”
Riley, still bouncing, rolls her eyes.
In their match five weeks ago, Riley, wearing her Skippies for the first time, dropped Steel with a big kick in the face after the bell.
STEEL (pointing at Tiffany): “And you stay out of my way, Cabrini-Green, or I’ll make you scream for your mama like I did last time.”
TIFFANY (arms folded): “It’s Tiffany, and I’m from Oakland, you racist bitch.”
BRICKHOUSE collects the snarling Steel and brings her back to the corner as referee Clayton calls for the bell.
Non-Title Match
All-American Amy Steel & BRICKHOUSE vs. Tiffany Green & Riley Slade
Riley, looking cute and sexy, is moving smooth and quick, circling Amy Steel, who matches her step-for step. Riley looks for an opening, but Steel’s arms, hands, and feet are where they need to be to keep her at bay.
And Steel is just a better wrestler.
She snags Riley by the wrist and shoulder and shoots her into the ropes. Riley has the presence of mind to duck the wild clothesline on the rebound, but, when she hits the opposite strands, she realizes it’s a set-up.
RILEY: “Oh fu-”
The ropes sling Riley’s face right into Steel’s big boot and she splatters to the mat, barely aware.
Tiffany jumps through the ropes and puts herself between what’s left of Riley and Steel. She throws three big hooks — left, right, left — but the All-American times her blocks perfectly and drives three piledriver punches of her own to Tiffany’s abs, softened by five weeks out of the ring.
Stunned, Tiffany is easy prey for Steel to whip her into the champs’ corner, where BRICKHOUSE is waiting to turn her over in a tight spinning powerslam. Seeing stars and gasping, Tiffany rolls out under the bottom rope to the floor. BRICKHOUSE goes out after her.
Laughing, strolling, enjoying life, Amy Steel makes a show of peeling Riley up off the canvas. The youngest girl on the roster is out on her feet, mumbling something about being late for class. Steel takes her time and starts winding her limbs around Riley, setting up for the American Eagle, her standing-octopus-hold finisher.
On the outside, BRICKHOUSE has Tiffany up and easily locks in a full nelson on her. Tiffany, grunting, struggling, can’t escape as BRICKHOUSE angles her toward the ring, making her watch as Steel clamps down on Riley with the Eagle.
The pain of the hold brings Riley right back to reality and she screams her instant submission. The referee calls for the bell at 1:23.
Laughing, Steel keeps the pressure on as Riley, her throat already raw from screaming, kicks and waves her hands futilely on the mat. The referee gets in Steel’s face, demanding she break the hold.
On the outside, Tiffany, weakened by the full nelson and the earlier shots to her stomach, can only wave her muscly arms, helpless to break BRICKHOUSE’s lock on her.
TIFFANY: “Let’er go…fuckin’…bitch…”
BRICKHOUSE: “Ooo, you better watch your mouth, loser, and know your place.”
She releases the hold and shoves Tiffany headlong into the ring post with a resounding ping. Tiffany’s face slides down the post on the way to the floor and the blackness of dreamland.
In the ring, Riley has passed out from the pain of the American Eagle and lies spread-eagle on the mat with Amy Steel’s boot on her tight little belly. BRICKHOUSE slides into the ring and the referee raises the tag champs’ hands, shaking his head in disgust.
Effortless win for the tag champs, devasting defeat for the underneath girls…
In the star locker room…
Sunny Austin — barefoot, bikinied, beautiful — knocks again on the door. Tiana Miles, still in street clothes, opens it.
TIANA: “What does your skank ass want?”
Her face red, lower teeth digging into her upper lip, Sunny stares over Tiana’s head into the room.
SUNNY: “I’m looking for Scarlett.”
Tiana folds her arms, cocks a hip.
TIANA: “You gonna kiss her feet for giving you the chance to lose to her tonight? Or is that not something you’re into. (she leans in close) Bet you don’t know everything Cassie is into. (snide grin) I could tell you. (she looks at Sunny’s breasts, stomach, hips, legs, feet) Mmm, maybe I’ll show you too.”
Sunny blinks back tears, leveling her gaze to match Tiana’s directly.
SUNNY: “You’re going to lose next week.”
TIANA: “Am I?”
SUNNY: “Yeah, you are. And when you do, I’m gonna make Cassie scream my name so loud she’s gonna forget yours.”
TIANA (gaze piercing, voice even): After next week, you’re gonna nee-”
Scarlett Jackson, in her flashy ring gear, pulls the door open behind Tiana.
SCARLETT: “I heard my name. Come in, Sunny. I’m sure Tiana has someplace else she’d rather be.”
Without turning around, Tiana shoulders her way past Sunny and heads up the concrete corridor. Scarlett waves Sunny into the room. Tentative, almost testing the flooring with her toes, Sunny walks into the star locker room for the first time. With The Posse, Hannah Hammer, and Anna Konda — all wrestlers who’ve defeated her — watching from across the room, Sunny tries not to look at anyone as she sits next to Scarlett on the bench facing the lockers.
SCARLETT: “Sorry I didn’t get the door. Did she say anything?”
SUNNY (sitting ramrod straight, hands on her thighs): “Nothing unexpected. But I had sort of a sexual comeback to her at one point that I’m not sure made any sense. (she shakes her head) Anyway, I came to thank you for tonight. I wanted to last week but…things happened between Cassie and I and I didn’t get to. (she smiles) So thank you for giving me a title shot. It means everything to me.”
SCARLETT: “If you and I didn’t tear it down in that first match, there’s no fucking way I would have been at a level to beat Konda for this belt. (she makes sure she has Sunny’s eye) You made me a better wrestler that night. I owe you. I mean, I’m still gonna beat you. (giggles) But I owe you.”
Sunny kinda sorta laughs at the kinda sorta demeaning joke.
SCARLETT: “Listen, I want to go out there tonight and show everyone in this company we’re the future here. Of course I want to win, but I also want everything you’ve got.”
SUNNY (nodding): “You’ll have it. (she gets up, still careful not to look at anyone else) Thanks again. I’ll see you out there.”
She gets up and turns to go.
SCARLETT: “You worried Cassie Rae is gonna lose next week?”
Sunny gets glassy-eyed.
SUNNY: “I’m worried Cassie is going to get herself killed next week.”
SCARLETT: “Well, girl, the one thing I’d say about that is: It’s a Hardcore Match, (a big smirk on her face) anything goes. (she shrugs) Maybe that’s something we should all keep in mind.”
In the deputy commissioner’s office…
Jules Moreno shifts in her chair, the jacket of her blue power suit over the back. She drums a pen on the desk, her head propped up on her other hand, elbow on the chair’s arm.
JULES: “I want to make this right.”
Standing opposite the desk, Josie Myer — a gray sweatshirt over her ring gear, flip-flops on her feet — shrugs.
JOSIE: “There’s nothing to make right. I know what’s involved in being an underneath girl here. You guys fed me to the new star and she destroyed me. It’s my fault I froze up.”
JULES: “I have no idea how you can say that.”
JOSIE: “I guess because I know you guys would never knowingly take the only Jewish underneath girl on the roster and feed her a neo-Nazi monster without ever giving the Jewish girl a heads-up what was going to happen to her. (she looks Jules dead in the eye). I mean, is that why you signed me, Commissioner Moreno? To do something like that to me?”
JULES: “Josie, I am so sorry for what happened. And no, I did not know Commissioner Hollander was going to book you as Colonel Besiegen’s first opponent.”
JOSIE: “But you handle our contracts, right? Did Colonel Besiegen sign under a different name?”
JULES (staring at her bobbing pen): “No.”
JOSIE: “Listen, I’ve lived out here most of my life. I’ve always been the weird Jewish girl. I’m used to it. I’m also used to people looking at me and treating me like some…other form of human.
“Honestly, I was ready for that when I stepped into that underneath locker room, but all those girls, and all my opponents, have treated me like a peer, like another wrestler. It’s felt amazing.
“But last week…I felt betrayed. Punished. For no reason.”
JULES: “Josie, tell me what I can do. Please.”
JOSIE: “There’s nothing you can do. She’s here. I’m not going anywhere. And I understand I’ll have to wrestle her again at some point. Next time I’ll be prepared. Or I’ll try to be.”
JULES: “Let me alter your contract so you never have to wrestle her again. And I’ll expunge that loss from your record. Can I at least do that?”
JOSIE: “No, I don’t want those things.”
JULES: “Josie, please. I feel awful about this.”
JOSIE: “I’m not trying to make you feel bad or guilty, commissioner, I promise. I just want to forget last week and move on.”
JULES: “OK, if that’s what you want, I respect it. And Josie, I respect you. You’re an amazing young woman, and I’m so happy you’re here.”
JOSIE: “Thank you. I’m still happy I’m here, too.”
JULES: “I just want you to know I understand signing Colonel Besiegen was a mistake. I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have allowed Commissioner Hollander to talk me into it. You got hurt. Sarah Lawrence got hurt, and that’s on me.”
JOSIE: “I’m gonna head down to the locker room. I want to watch Cassie and Konda.”
JULES: “OK…”
Josie leaves, pulling the door closed behind her.
JULES: “Fuck!”
She throws the pen, then a small clock, against the wall and cries into her hands.
There’s a knock at the door.
JULES: “Just a sec.”
She wipes her face with tissues and does a flash fix on her makeup.
JULES: “Come in.”
Security Chief Duke Derringer enters the room, slowly, quietly.
DERRINGER: “I saw the Jewish girl was just in here.”
JULES: “Her name is Josie Myer.”
DERRINGER: “We have to talk about what happened to her last week. It’s not quite what you think.”
In the arena…
Cassie Rae is already in the ring, hands on her hips, her foot swiping at something on the mat. With one week between her and the potential end of her CCW career, is quiet and collected in her corner. She paces, drawing deep, even breathes and, in true underneath-girl fashion, waits for her star opponent to make her entrance.
The Tale of the Tape
Cassie Rae is an underneath girl with a 5-16 record. She’s 34, 5’3”, and 130lbs, with dark brown hair and hazel eyes. She wrestles barefoot in a half tee and low-rise cutoff jean shorts. Anna Konda enters this match at 19-3. 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.
Jimmy Swift introduces Konda, who, despite losing the Tri-County Championship two weeks ago and getting destroyed in a makeshift Handicap Match last week, remains patrician and deliberately sensual in her entrance. She ascends the rings steps, climbs through the ropes, and makes referee Clark Sierra help her slither out of her long, ornate robe. She bends and stretches her lithe body as the referee hands her robe off to a ring attendant.
Cassie sucks in a deep breath, holds it, and lets it out slowly.
The referee calls for the bell.
Anna Konda vs. Cassie Rae
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As good a ring strategist and as smart a wrestler as Cassie is, she’s in this match with a submission assassin who’s just lost a championship and a bit of her pride. Add to this Cassie’s ex-lover might end her career next week, and her current lover hasn’t spoken to her since last week, and it’s little wonder Anna Konda basically has her way with Cassie in this match.
With strikes to Cassie’s soft little belly and a few perfectly executed holds on both her arms, Konda has the veteran underneath girl worn, winded, and in pain when she winds her arms around Cassie’s neck at 3:02 and locks in her sleeperhold finisher.
Barely able to lift her arms, her mind divided between Tiana and Sunny, Cassie slips away quickly and easily in the sleeper, her stomach heaving rhythmically as the warm blackness takes her.
The referee moves to check Cassie’s arm, but Konda releases the hold and lays Cassie down on her back. Konda slithers across Cassie’s chest, her back arched, and gets the 1-2-3 at 3:45.
A quick and easy win for Anna Konda, who improves to 20-3. Cassie falls to 5-17. A loss next week will end her career.
As she’s announced the winner, Konda sits Cassie up and rubs the sides of her neck, bringing her around as the referee keeps a watchful eye.
KONDA: “Breathe, Cassie Rae.”
Cassie’s fingers and toes flex. Her eyes open and she starts at the sight of Konda on one knee next to her.
With not a drop of personal attachment but a healthy dose of dispassionate support, Konda lays her hand on Cassie’s stomach, which is divided into little rolls at her navel. Cassie’s body goes rigid, but Konda’s voice is soft, smooth.
KONDA: “Breathe into my hand. Clear your head.”
The referee hovers close as Cassie, eyes closed, does as the woman who just put her to sleep asks.
CASSIE: “Why are you doing this?”
KONDA: “You were my opponent tonight; so, I defeated you. But your mind and your body should be at peace for what you must do next week. (she gives Cassie’s stomach the slightest squeeze) I would prefer you are the winner.”
Konda gets to her feet, takes in what’s left of the boos she earned for pinning Cassie and the cheers she earned for doing it while sexy, and heads up the aisle.
On the mat, Cassie gets to her feet on her own and nods to referee Sierra, who holds the ropes open for her exit.
In the deputy commissioner’s office…
Jules, bolt upright at her desk, jacket on, looks from one of the two people standing opposite her to the other, and back again.
The two people are Derringer…and Colonel Besiegen.
JULES: “I’m not even going to get into what happened here last week…colonel, because I blame myself for it as much or more than I blame you. But, according to Mr. Derringer, it seems Commissioner Hollander may be more to blame than either of us.
BESIEGEN (thick German accent): “I do not understand what you mean.”
DERRINGER: “Rhonda, you don’t have to pretend. I told Deputy Commissioner Moreno everything.”
Besiegen, eyes narrow, glares at Derringer, then Jules.
JULES: “Mr. Derringer tells me he’s known you a long time. He tells me ‘Colonel Besiegen’ is a look and persona you used to use but had long since abandoned.”
The colonel’s glare returns to Derringer.
JULES: “Mr. Derringer said he took Commissioner Hollander to see you wrestle down south as ‘The Thresher,’ but you would only be offered a CCW contract if you agreed to wrestle as Colonel Besiegen again. Is that correct?”
Besiegen and Derringer share one last look.
BESIEGEN (Midwestern American accent): “Ma’am that’s correct. Commissioner Hollander said it would be great for your ratings here if I was Colonel Besiegen again. That there were folks here that would love what I could do to your underneath girls. Don’t get me wrong, I love destroying underneath girls, I just wasn’t comfortable with being the colonel again. But the contract was really good and I’m not sure how many years I’ve got left in the business. (her gaze wanders the carpet) So I agreed.”
JULES: “And did you know Colonel Besiegen’s first opponent was going to be Jewish?”
BESIGEN: “Not until I got to the ring and heard the girl’s name, but even then, I didn’t jump to any conclusions until I saw the tattoos on her stomach. At that point, I realized she’d probably been set up. And maybe I had too.”
JULES: “How were you set up?”
BESIEGEN: “Commissioner Hollander told me there’d be a rookie referee in the ring, so I’d be able to be…extra brutal to my opponent and she probably wouldn’t know what to do. When she started yelling about reversing the decision, I knew the commissioner wouldn’t want that, so I hit her. I didn’t know what else to do.”
Jules looks to the bald, mustachioed security chief.
JULES: “So he engineered the entire thing. He insisted she put on this disgusting persona and had her destroy a Jewish underneath girl — who’s an amazing young woman, by the way — specifically to further that persona.”
DERRINGER: “I’m afraid so, Ms. Moreno. Hollis was always a sunuvabitch, it made him a good manager back when we was running those southern territories, but since I’ve been here he’s…it’s too much.”
JULES: “I assume he plans to tell the board of directors I hired this person on my own?”
DERRINGER: “Yes, ma’am. He does.”
JULES: “Duke, would you be willing to tell the board the truth?”
DERRINGER: “I really need this job, Ms. Moreno.”
JULES: “I’m not going for a reprimand or a sanction this time. So, if I guarantee your job, will you tell the board what you told me tonight?”
DERRINGER: “I…yes, ma’am, I will.”
Jules looks to the colonel.
JULES: “What’s your real name?”
BESIEGEN: “Rhonda Thomassen.”
JULES: “Rhonda, your services as Colonel Besiegen will no longer be required.”
RHONDA: “Yeah. Figured we were headed that way.”
JULES: “But, if I agree to let you continue wrestling here, either under your real name or a different persona that I personally approve, will you tell our board of directors the truth about how you were recruited?”
RHONDA: “Yes. Definitely.”
JULES: “All right. I want you to go home for now. I’ll be in touch. Duke, go back to wherever Hollis expects you to be. We are the only three who know about this, so if it gets back to Hollis, I’ll know it was one of you who told him.”
Derringer and Rhonda nod, sealing the pact.
JULES: “Good. Go. I’ve got some calls to make.”
In the arena…
Already in the ring for the next match, Shauna Carson leans against her corner, arms draped over the top rope, one foot on top of the other. She knows exactly why she’s the opponent here: so Tiana Miles can destroy her en route to the Hardcore Loser Leaves CCW Match with Cassie Rae next week.
The odd comfort in that knowledge and the nervous fear in anticipation of it happening have a little tug-of-war in Shauna’s belly. They’re equally matched.
The Tale of the Tape
Shauna Carson is 21, 5’5”, 145lbs with blonde hair and blue eyes. She’s an underneath girl with a record of 0-4. Shauna wrestles barefoot in a cheetah-print singlet and black knee pads. Tiana Miles is 24, 5’5”, 135lbs, with black hair and dark brown eyes. She wrestles in a neon purple bra top, neon purple short shorts, neon purple knee pads, and black Chuck Taylor sneakers. A star, Tiana enters at 11-8.
The boos start as Jimmy Swift introduces Tiana and cascade down as she makes her way to the ring, her music barely audible. Looking tight and determined, Tiana hops up on the apron and vaults over the top rope into the ring.
Hands on hips, Tiana stares out at the crowd, soaking up the derision, and maybe also the atmosphere of the arena. Next week, it’ll be Tiana’s career on the line. This week, there’s no indication Tiana even realizes her opponent was in The Pack with her. She barely spares Shauna a glance before referee Sarah Lawrence calls for the bell.
Tiana Miles vs. Shauna Carson
Trying to show some degree of formidability, Shauna circles out of her corner quickly and smoothly, staying on the balls of her feet. But she’s not so much looking for an opening to attack as she is waiting for the inevitable move from Tiana — an aggressive tie-up, a kick to the belly — that will get Tiana started on the short road to beating her.
But Tiana keeps looking over Shauna’s shoulder, or over her head, taking in the crowd, the arena, and maybe just…thinking?
Shauna goes for it, getting two solid strides of momentum before running Tiana over with a clothesline. Tiana pops back up, and Shauna nails her with another clothesline. Tiana is a step slower to her feet and Shauna hooks her arm and takes her over with a solid arm drag.
Thank you, Jessica Kelly.
Shauna takes a moment to remember how to apply an arm bar and manages to cinch it on before Tiana can recover. Smiling, Shauna gets to one knee and applies leverage and pressure to Tiana’s arm as, for the first time, the crowd cheers her performance, not her looks. She concentrates, keeping the pressure on as Tiana looks for a way out.
And since it’s Tiana, still one of the most agile, technically sound wrestlers in CCW, she finds one. Twisting her hips to scissor her legs around Shauna’s soft, thick waist, Tiana locks her ankles and squeezes.
Shauna screams. Releasing the armbar immediately, she claws and slaps at Tiana’s cabled legs, desperately trying to free herself as the pressure quickly reduces her breaths to gasps.
The referee, shoving her blue hair out of her eyes, drops to one knee.
LAWRENCE: “What do you say, Shauna? You want to give it up?”
Tiana smiles as Shauna squeals and moans, her struggles getting weaker, slower, but she does manage to bark out a “No!” refusing to submit.
The referee circles, checking the hold.
Shauna, her breathing labored, her eyelids drooping, paws at Tiana’s legs, helpless to resist the body scissors any further.
With her ankles still locked, Tiana rolls to her stomach, putting Shauna’s shoulders on the mat and her shapely ass and bare legs in the air.
Moaning, defeated, Shauna waits to lose.
1…
2…
Tiana unlocks her legs and slides out from under Shauna, who splays out on the canvas, belly pumping as air is sucked back into her lungs.
The referee admonishes Tiana for not taking the win, but Tiana ignores her. Before Shauna can stir, Tiana jerks her into a seated position by her long, straight, blonde hair and snares her in a tight, perfect dragon sleeper.
With Shauna struggling and slapping at her anew, Tiana positions Shauna so they both face the hard camera.
The referee checks the hold from the front and back, but Tiana’s arm in locked around Shauna’s carotid arteries, not her exposed throat.
With no idea how to escape the hold or resist a sleeper, Shauna’s weak spasms of resistance fade. Her arms drop and her fingers, legs, and toes relax and go still.
As the referee checks Shauna’s limp arm, Tiana, tongue way out, sides her open hand down the sleeping girl’s throat…chest… stomach, squeezing Shauna’s soft, wide lower-belly swell.
TIANA (right down the barrel of the hard camera): “This is gonna be you next week, Cass. I can’t wait for this to be you.”
Referee Lawrence calls for the bell at 1:38. Tiana releases the dragon sleeper, letting Shauna flop to the mat, spread-eagle, fast asleep.
Nothing but a warm-up for Tiana, she moves to 12-8. Shauna falls to 0-5.
Tiana plants her Chuck Taylor on Shauna’s chest as the referee raises her hand.
LAWRENCE: “Enjoy this win. It’s gonna be your last.”
TIANA (sneering): “I’d’ve had you snoring faster than this fat bitch.”
LAWRENCE (dropping Tiana’s hand): “I hope I’m assigned your match with Cassie. I really do.”
They face-off over the sleeping Shauna.
TIANA: “No one is gonna stop me from doing whatever I want to Cassie next week. No one. She belongs to me.
“She’s always belonged to me.”
In the underneath locker room…
Melora O’Brien, Jessica Kelly, and Josie Myer, all in street clothes, file out of the room, leaving Cassie, still in her ring gear, and Sunny sitting on the long bench away from the lockers.
CASSIE: “I don’t want you to go into this match with…bad stuff between us.”
SUNNY: “That’s how I feel about your match with Tiana.”
They take each other’s hands.
CASSIE: “I love you. I want that to be the first thing I say.”
SUNNY: “I love you too. So much. But I’m still scared. We have no idea what Tiana is going to do to you. Or…try to do.”
CASSIE: “Did you mean it last week when you said we could go wrestle someplace else?”
SUNNY: “Of course. I’d be willing to start over anywhere el-”
CASSIE: “No, Sun, the ‘we’ part. (she squeezes Sunny’s hands) You said you’d leave with me if I lose next week.”
SUNNY (shaking her head, eyes narrow): “Of course I would.”
CASSIE (rubbing Sunny’s hands and forearms): “This place has been my home — as bad as that is — for 10 years. I’ve never wrestled anywhere else. I’ve never even been an adult anywhere else.”
SUNNY: “Baby…”
CASSIE: “The one…real fear I had about losing next week is it would mean losing everything I know. And everything I love.”
SUNNY: “I am going go out there in a few minutes and put my fucking…soul into winning the Tri-County Championship. Scarlett is going to have to kill me to beat me. I am going give her everything.”
CASSIE (tearing up): “I know, babe, that’s why-”
Sunny lays her fingers on Cassie’s lips.
SUNNY: “If I win that title, and you lose next week, I’ll put the belt down wherever I’m standing and we’ll tell the office where to find it.”
Cassie kisses Sunny’s fingers, then takes Sunny’s hand in both of hers.
CASSIE: “I am so afraid to tell you how much you’ve become my home. My whole life has been about being and feeling alone, homeless, helpless. And now you’re here and…I feel like home is wherever you are. So, when you said you’d leave here with me if I lose to Tiana…”
Sunny wraps her arms around Cassie and they stand, crying and holding each other, until a smile creeps across Sunny’s face.
SUNNY: “You’re gonna win next week.”
They relax their embrace enough for Cassie to smile up into Sunny’s eyes.
CASSIE: “This place is ours now. She’s not gonna take it from us.”
Sunny pulls Cassie in close again, feeling her the skin and the warmth of her face, her chest, her stomach, her legs. Sunny feels Cassie’s body against hers all over and two words fill her mind, and her heart.
Ours. Us.
In the commissioner’s office…
Hollander, his jacket over the back of his chair, paces in front of his desk in the other two-pieces of the suit. Security Chief Derringer, the lights glinting off his bald head while highlighting his generous mustache, is standing nearby, arms folded.
HOLLANDER: “I don’t like this. I can’t find anyone. Moreno is gone early. Where’d she go? The show is still on the air.”
DERRINGER: “I haven’t seen her.”
HOLLANDER: “I was supposed to talk to Colonel Besiegen, tell her she’s got to dial it back for a little while, and I can’t find her. Duke?”
DERRINGER: “Haven’t seen her. Maybe she left when she saw she wasn’t b-”
HOLLANDER: “And Zehra! (he shoves a hand at the empty chaise lounge) Where the hell is she? She hasn’t been back here since she, of course, lost last week.”
DERRINGER: “I haven’t seen her, Hollis.”
HOLLANDER (side-eyed): “Where’ve you been for most of the night? I haven’t seen you at ringside. And you haven’t been here.”
The commissioner steps nearer the security chief, but Derringer’s poker face holds up.
DERRINGER: “There was business I had to attend to earlier in the show. So, I attended to it. Commissioner.”
In the arena…
If Sunny Austin, already in the ring, has ever looked more beautiful, more at peace, or more ready to wrestle in the 24 years of her life, it would be difficult to imagine. No nerves, no smiles, no anger, no extra movement, just a gorgeous, striking young woman, never more a professional wrestler than in this moment.
She’s ready.
The Tale of the Tape
Underneath girl Sunny Austin is 5’11”, 140lbs, with blonde hair and blue eyes. Her current record is 6-13. She wrestles barefoot in an orange-and-white bikini. This is her first title match. The current Tri-County Champion, Sizzlin’ Scarlett Jackson is a star with a 12-3 record. She is 26, 5’5”, 130lbs, with dyed bright-orange hair and light-brown eyes. She wrestles in a shiny orange & white bra top, shiny orange booty shorts, shiny white knee pads, and orange basketball sneakers with white highlights.
Ring announcer Jimmy Swift gets this main event started.
SWIFT: “The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is for the Tri-County…Championship! Introducing first, the challenger, from the golden beaches of the west coast, Sunnyyyyyyy Austin!”
The crowd favors Sunny with the biggest, most genuine reaction of her career. It doesn’t break her concentration, or move her emotionally, but Sunny does hear it and does give the fans a wave and nod of appreciation before getting in some last-minute stretching of her lithe body, especially those long, strong legs.
SWIFT: “And her opponent, from the upside of downtown, she is the Tri-County Champion, Sizzlin’ Scaaaaarlett…Jaaaaacksonnnnn!”
The reaction for Sunny blends into the one for Scarlett, which just as energetic and loud. She still bobs and skips a bit to her music, but Jackson — the Tri-County title shining, at home, over her shoulder — commands the aisle with presence and exuberance as she makes her way to the ring.
In her corner, Sunny develops one, lone, last-second butterfly in her stomach.
Scarlett breezes through the ropes, hands her championship belt to referee Jack Blake, and whips off her shiny white ring jacket. Under it, her ring gear hosts her compact, cut body beautifully. Scarlett runs both hands through her orange hair then, bouncing in her corner, smiles across the ring at Sunny.
SCARLETT: “Goddamn, girl, you look ready to put my ass away.”
SUNNY (allows a smile back): “I am.”
SCARLETT (still smiling, head shaking): “Can’t let that happen.”
SUNNY: (smile and a shrug): “Then I guess you’ll have to put my ass away.”
Scarlett laughs.
The referee motions both wrestlers to the center of the ring.
BLAKE: “Ladies, this is for the Tri-County title here tonight, so I want your best, and let’s keep it clean.”
Both women nod and share a brief, strong handshake.
The referee calls for the bell.
Tri-County Championship Match
Sizzlin’ Scarlett Jackson [c] vs. Sunny Austin
They circle, bouncing on the balls of their feet, moving flawlessly.
But Scarlett breaks her gait for a moment to adjust her knee pad and Sunny smashes her across the jaw with a standing spinning heel kick. Scarlett, wonky eyed, spins to the canvas face down. Sunny slides to her side, flips Scarlett onto her back, and leans across her chest, hooking her far leg with both hands.
The referee is right there.
1…
2…
Scarlett spasms from her core, just barely pushing her shoulder up before three.
Sunny re-positions, cradling Scarlett’s legs and rolling Scarlett up onto her shoulders. Sunny pushes up onto her toes for extra leverage.
1…
2…
Scarlett’s abs and hips shove her shoulders off the mat and Sunny back to her knees.
Sunny gets to her feet and takes Scarlett over in a side headlock, but Scarlett slips out and turns it into a hammerlock, forcing Sunny onto her stomach. Scarlett pushes the pressure, forcing a cry from Sunny, who twists into the hold, splits her legs, and pulls Scarlett into a triangle choke. Wide-eyed, Scarlett wrenches herself out of the hold before Sunny can lock it in.
Both women get back to their feet, and the crowd applauds them. They circle anew, both smiling.
SCARLETT: “A fuckin’ triangle choke?”
SUNNY (grinning): “Surprise.”
SCARLETT: “Ninja bikini bitch in here.”
Another quick little handshake and they tie-up.
The next eleven minutes are a class in catch-as-catch-can professional wrestling. There may not be two better matched wrestlers in CCW than these two women at this point in their careers.
Scarlett is stronger than Sunny, faster and surer on and off the ropes. Sunny can’t match upper body strength or overall endurance with her and Scarlett knows it.
But Sunny knows it too, and her ring awareness; smooth, graceful agility; striking power in her long, strong legs and feet; and the occasion surprise power or submission move never let Scarlett get into a groove to chain together the moves necessary to put Sunny away and secure her title.
It’s a beautiful push-pull between two beautiful women, the main event of the evening in the CCW Arena. And the crowd who paid to see it hang on every move, reversal, and kick-out.
At 12:32, Scarlett ducks a high standing side kick, slips her arms around Sunny’s thigh and shoulder and, torquing her own back against the bikini girl’s height, takes Sunny to the mat hard with an overhead exploder suplex. Sunny bounces onto her hip, hand on her back, wheezing, mouth hanging open. Scarlett pulls Sunny onto her back, straddles her chest and snatches up both of Sunny’s legs, pinning her knees and feet together.
Referee Jack Blake slides into position with Sunny waving her feet, wiggling her toes; anything.
1…
Sunny powers one leg free.
2…
She plants her foot, screams, and shifts enough of her weight to throw Scarlett off balance and break the pin.
Scarlett pounds the mat.
SCARLETT: “Goddammit…”
They rise and Scarlett drives her fist into Sunny’s trim belly, but it’s the bikini girl who wraps her limbs around the Tri-County champ and rolls Scarlett up with an inside cradle.
1…
2…
Scarlett powers out against Sunny’s momentarily weakened abs.
Sunny rolls to her feet just in time to drop back to the mat, doing the splits to avoid a hard-charging Scarlett clothesline…
…but the referee is not so lucky and he gets blasted with it. He sprawls into a roll on the canvas and falls to the floor under the bottom rope.
Scarlett and Sunny look to where the referee disappeared to the floor, then re-lock eyes with each other. Sunny fakes another high kick, then scoops Scarlett up and bodyslams her to the mat. Sunny hits the ropes, and cartwheels into a hard leg drop against Scarlett’s chest.
Referee Jessie Motley is down, checking on Jack Blake at ringside.
Pressing her advantage, Sunny pulls Scarlett to her feet, then puts her back down with a short-arm clothesline. Sunny dashes to the ropes, forward rolls into a handstand on the rebound, pivots on her hands, arches her back, and drops all her weight onto Scarlett’s midsection, navel-to-navel. Scarlett jackknifes off the mat, then settles out under Sunny, breathless.
Moving quickly, surely, Sunny scissors one of Scarlett’s legs between hers, hooks the other one, and spreads herself across Scarlett’s chest. Scarlett, shoulders pinned tight to the canvas, offers nothing but a helpless groan…
…but there’s no referee.
SUNNY: “Jessie! Jessie, goddammit!”
Referee Motley props referee Blake up against the ring post, then slides headlong into the ring, arriving right next to Scarlett’s shoulders.
1…
2…
Scarlett uses her elbow to leverage her shoulder an inch off the mat. Sunny looks hopefully, happily to Motley, who waves off the pin.
MOTLEY: “She got the shoulder up, Sunny. Gotta keep wrestling.”
SUNNY (seated on the mat, hands gripping her hair): “Fuck!”
Scarlett, on her feet but still woozy, looks for a double ax-handle from behind, but the referee moving out of the way alerts the bikinied blonde and Sunny caves Scarlett’s side in with a swinging side kick from one knee. Scarlett, anguished, groaning collapses to the mat on her side.
Sunny pounces, shoving Scarlett onto her back, straddling her hips, and pinning her wrists to the mat above her head. Sunny uses her hips, abs, and arms to stretch Scarlett on the canvas. Scarlett cries out as the Motley drops down.
1…
2…
Teresa Salazar pulls the referee out of the ring by the leg. Motley hits the floor on her side and stays down.
Stunned, Sunny gets up and grabs the top rope with both hands, eyes flaring down at Teresa.
SUNNY: “What the fuck are you doing?”
TERESA: “This should be mine. You don’t deserve it.”
Screaming her rage, Sunny grabs at Teresa, but the veteran finds a spot and drills Sunny between the eyes with a right hand.
Sunny staggers backward, where Scarlett, just getting to her knees, snags Sunny from behind and rolls her up.
Referee Jack Blake, back in the ring, dives across it and tolls the 1-2-3 at 15:03.
Despite her fury a moment earlier, Sunny didn’t resist the pin at all.
Scarlett retains her title, moving to 13-3. Sunny falls to 6-14.
Scarlett gets to her feet and Sunny flops out spread-eagle, eyes closed, belly heaving slowing, rhythmically. She’s unconscious.
Scarlett stares quizzically at Sunny while referee Blake raises her hand and Jimmy Swift announces her the winner.
Then she sees.
On the outside — standing next to referee Motley as she struggles to her feet — Teresa Salazar smiles up at Scarlett, a pair of brass knuckles on her right hand.
SCARLETT: “Oh no…”
With the crowd cheering her victory, Scarlett takes her title belt from the referee and stares down at Sunny — KO’d, defeated, cheated — on the canvas.
Fade Out
