It was determined by the event organizers that a coin flip would be made to ascertain which team would choose first from their eight squad members. WB co-captains Sarah Michelle Gellar and Katie Holmes gave the call a quick back-and-forth and went with tails. Tails, it was. But instead of choosing, they deferred and forced the Fox squad to pick first. The WB could then choose who would be the best match-up for the initial encounter after seeing what Fox was offering up. The choices in the following matches would then alternate with each team picking first then second.
*****
Match #1 - Jennifer Love Hewitt vs. Sarah Michelle
Gellar 12-1-99
Leading off for the Fox team was one of their two
co-captains, the ever-perky Jennifer Love Hewitt. A bold maneuver,
to lay one of their key personnel up front. The WB team now had
the opportunity to pick anyone from their ranks. They could go
for an upset or meet force with force. When Sarah Michelle Gellar
stepped into the ring, that question was answered emphatically.
Love had already entered the ring in a pink bikini top with black bicycle shorts, a pink stripe trailing down from each hip to the outside of Love's slender thighs. Sarah had gone with a black sports bra and a rather diminutive pair of black satin boxing trunks. With the ring of the bell, they circled each other tentatively. The first match could set the stage for the entire series and each woman was obviously a little leery at making an opening mistake. Sarah snapped a couple of probing kicks at Love, who deftly deflected them away. Then a couple more, this time with more behind them, the second sneaking through, connecting with Love's solar plexus.
She stepped back, a grimace taking the place of her seemingly ever-present smile. She smirked at Sarah, lesson learned. Yet again, Sarah jabbed with her feet, but this time Love sidestepped and kicked Sarah's remaining leg out from underneath her, sending her crashing to the mat - momentarily stunned. Love quickly grabbed both of Sarah's legs and spread them wide apart. She delivered a well-placed knee to the crotch that had Sarah coughing and sputtering. Much to everyone's surprise, Love had gained early control.
Again she spread Sarah's lithe, tanned legs and again she came crashing down between them. Sarah struggled for air, rolling into a ball for protection, but there was none to be found. Love raised Sarah to her feet and threw her against the ropes meeting her with a clothesline that caught Sarah underneath the chin. She landed heels pointed to the sky and the back of her head slamming hard against the canvas. Love didn't want to give away a moment's advantage, she knew she couldn't afford it. Seeing Sarah's eyes swimming, she knew where to forward her attack.
Love clamped on a vise-like head scissors, sliding one thigh underneath Sarah's head and the other atop it, applying intense pressure to the temples of her victim. Love squeezed with all the strength she could muster, the sweat now beading and running across her face and body. Sarah's attempts to pry herself loose were ineffectual and slowly but surely, she felt herself slipping away. The blackness of her view between Love's legs turning a telltale gray, as the blood flow to her brain became less with each squeeze of Love's muscular makeshift tourniquet. Sarah became panicked and prying soon became clawing, her legs flailing wildly.
Love, seeing the increased activity, became concerned. Instead of seeing the final throes of a body in desperate straits, she saw Sarah as being unaffected. She released the hold and stood over Sarah, who had ceased her struggles and was now trying to recover, as best she could - a little color returning to the face.
Love was intent on bringing it yet more color. Kneeling down to a straddling position, she sent a right cross slamming across the prone girl's chin, then a left to the gut that released a guttural "ooof" from Sarah. A small line of spittle dropped out of the corner of her mouth. Love's smile had reappeared, at best she had to be considered a slight underdog, she was sure many had considered her worse. She also considered Sarah's heaving breast before her, expanding and contracting, trying to give her the air she so desperately needed.
Love's smile widened as she removed the mammaries from their confinement and snatched one in each hand, twisting and turning, causing a high-pitched shriek to escape Sarah's lips. But unfortunately for Love, also causing her knees to reflexively lift, catching Love partially in the ass, but also a generous portion of the groin was met with the spastic blow. She flew forward on top of Sarah, squealing even higher than Sarah had moments earlier, clutching at her crotch.
Sarah had the wherewithal to throw Love off of her, but for precious moments could accomplish little else. Finally making her way to her feet, she moved toward Love, who was now on all fours turned away from the approaching Sarah. Time to make this perky little pest pay, she thought. Not only for the physical pain, but the embarrassment of being dominated by someone she should have handled easily. Sarah gave a boot to Love's ass sending her sprawling back down to the canvas face first. Once again, she made it to all fours before Sarah landed a kick to her ribs that had her coughing and rolling to the other side of the mat.
"Please...please," Love cried, as she raised her hand and started crawling away from Sarah.
The WB star reached down and grabbed one of Love's legs, "Looks like the shoe's on the other foot, little Lovey Dovey."
Love shook her foot free from Sarah's grasp and landed a blind mule kick that caught Sarah square in the cunt. Shock filled Sarah's eyes, as she fell to her knees. Her mouth formed the shape of an O, but no sound escaped. Love turned in time to see Sarah fall over sideways into the ropes, still grasping her privates. She hastily got to her feet and dragged Sarah about ten feet from one of the corners. She proceeded up to the top turnbuckle and waved at her Fox cohorts, who instead of cheering were wildly motioning for her to go for the pin. They needn't have worried, as Love dove off the turnbuckle quite gracefully and caught the gasping, nearly motionless Sarah across the breadbasket. She remained atop Sarah rather nonchalantly for an easy three count and an opening match win.
Fox 1 WB 0.
****
Match #2 - Keri Russell vs. Gillian Anderson by Hawkeye
05-Dec-99
With her team down 1-0, the WB's Keri Russell climbed
pensively through the ropes and bounced in the corner. The task
at hand was huge, pull off a major upset against the heavily favored
Gillian Anderson and get her team back to square with a hyped
Fox team still on cloud nine after Jennifer Love Hewitt had convincingly
ousted Sarah Michelle Gellar from the competition in the initial
match. Keri was the vision of an angel, if heaven was R-rated.
She stretched along the ropes in a white lace skirt that unsuccessfully
covered the white satin panties underneath. Topside was a skin-tight
white cotton shirt, the sleeves consisting of a diaphanous material
that only accentuated her otherworldly beauty.
As Gillian clambered under the bottom rope, Keri's big green eyes darted around the arena looking for her team and with it, a little moral support. Michelle Williams caught her eye with a wave and pumped her fist in encouragement. Keri nodded unconvincingly and turned back toward Gillian, who was all business; no motion, just concentration, her gaze never leaving the slender beauty, the piercing stare causing Keri to look away.
The X-Files star had worn a rather provocative black-and-white checkered two-piece outfit. A top that scooped low across her chest revealing her milky white breasts that frankly Keri couldn't match and a matching pair of checkered shorts, the top button of which Gillian had left unfastened so she could roll them over a time or two, exposing a little more of her curvaceous figure.
Gillian moved forward slowly, seemingly calculating each step. But there really was little to theorize on, as Keri had not moved a muscle and appeared to Gillian, as if a deer caught in the headlights.
As Gillian closed in, Keri leaned back into the corner and brought up her long, limber legs more to ward off, than to attack. However, instead of backing away, the redheaded beauty grabbed her legs at the ankles and pulled her away from the corner, Keri hanging on for dear life. After several tugs, Keri's grip gave way and she fell to the canvas, the back of her head connecting with a sickening thud. She reached back with both hands, holding her head tightly and groaning. Realizing Gillian still had a hold of her, Keri began wildly twisting and turning, trying to extricate herself from Gillian's grasp, but she was clamped on tight. Holding Keri's legs high, Gillian stomped repeatedly on the back of her thighs, first one leg then the other, each time bringing a yelp of pain. She then wrapped her legs around Keri's right leg and fell to the mat using her momentum to twist the knee. Keri's face contorted from the pain and as Gillian grapevined around the injured knee and added more pressure, she began screaming.
"Please!"
Gillian twisted again.
"PLEASE!"
Keri didn't get more specific, it wasn't necessary. Gillian broke the hold and made her way to her feet, but before releasing the leg, gave it one final buggywhip that sent Keri rolling on the mat in agony, clutching at her knee. The pain was incredible, a pain she thought must be similar to a searing open flame.
Gillian stood back and enjoyed her handiwork, a slight smile creasing those incredible ruby-red lips. Not until Keri started inching her way back toward her corner - dragging herself, one leg essentially without life - did Gillian move in. Once again, she grabbed Keri's right leg and brought her back out to the middle of the ring causing Keri to scream bloody murder. Her Fox teammates even looking slightly uncomfortable, if Gillian went too far with this, one of them might be in line for payback somewhere down the line.
Gillian helped her hobbling opponent to her feet. With Keri standing on one leg, Gillian bent her over with a knee to the gut, and while struggling to keep her victim standing, the redhead threw her arm over the back of Keri's neck and planted her forehead straight to the mat with a textbook DDT. Gillian reclined next to the nearly motionless form, smirking and taking a sideways glance over at Keri, who had managed to stay semi-conscious and roll on to her side. Gillian looked deeply into her eyes, not even fear there anymore. But there was still fear to be placed in others, so the task was not complete.
Gillian pushed Keri on to her back, kneeled beside her and laid into her taut abs with a double ax-handle blow that brought Keri - coughing and choking - back to the world. She continued to hold the interlocked fists deep into Keri's belly, not allowing her to drag in any substantial inhalation. Keri pushed at the arms, as her breathing became more labored, but they would not budge.
Gillian, who as of yet, had remained silent, suddenly released her hold leaned over to Keri's ear and whispered, "Not quite yet, honey."
She gave the Felicity star an almost playful slap, laid her out spread-eagled and moved up onto the nearest turnbuckle. Calmly, coolly, she laid in wait, like a spider surveying her fly caught in the web with nowhere to go. She savored the moment for a second or two and launched herself, coming down in a cannonball dive, with both knees landing squarely across the ribcage. The blow rendering a guttural "ooof" from the young WB starlet, as precious oxygen was once again driven from her body, the force bringing Keri reflexively up on either side of the impact making a "V", but this one wasn't for victory, as she quickly slumped back to the mat.
Gillian rolled over Keri's body after delivering her little gift and rose to her feet. She was obviously playing with Keri now; she might as well be in there with a well-shaped bag of potatoes. She grabbed Keri by her long blonde tresses and struggled to bring her to her feet, or really foot at this point. Grabbing her around the neck, she rotated to a back-to-back position. The height difference Keri enjoyed made Gillian's reverse neckbreaker perhaps less effective than it might have been, but by now it hardly mattered. She sat down causing Keri's head to snap back upon impact with her shoulder. If Keri was as good as out before, she was truly unconscious now.
Gillian wiped away some of the sweat-soaked, flaming red hair that was draped across her forehead and looked down at Keri, passed out before her. She rolled over and pinned her, getting the one...two. Suddenly, she got up and the referee was forced to break his count. Gillian had other ideas. In a show of strength, Gillian maneuvered the deadweight of Keri over her shoulder and off the ground. She then placed her arms tightly around Keri's midsection and began squeezing her in a front bearhug. Gillian danced oddly around the ring, showing the inanimate Keri off to both her teammates and the WB team assembled in the crowd, the tips of the taller girl's toes dragging on the mat.
With her demonstration completed, Gillian made her way back to the referee and offered one of Keri's arms, which was summarily raised three times, dropping lifelessly to her side each time. Gillian disdainfully tossed Keri to the canvas and wiped her brow in an exaggerated fashion, throwing the perspiration down on her vanquished foe. Not waiting for the referee to lift her hand, she slid out of the ring and into the waiting arms of several congratulatory hugs from her teammates.
FOX 2 - WB 0.
Match 3: Felicity second banana and Pink Power Ranger Amy Jo Johnson vs. ex-Melrose Place and current "Ally McBeal" star Courtney Thorne-Smith.
****
Match #3 - Amy Jo Johnson vs. Courtney Thorne-Smith
by Hawkeye 12-9-99
The crowd was still milling about the ring area.
It seemed the third match of the WB-Fox series had been delayed
and they were becoming restless. The stage had been set for a
must win by the WB, as they had fallen behind 2-0. Tonight's action
would bring together Felicity costar Amy Jo Johnson, a petite,
but athletic dynamo and veteran Courtney Thorne-Smith, a veteran
who certainly knew the ropes. With a 2-0 lead, Fox captains Neve
Campbell and Gillian Anderson could afford to play things close
to the vest and so the choice of Thorne-Smith, rugged and reliable,
if not spectacular. This match figured to be a contrast in styles,
with Amy Jo, the former gymnast, looking to exploit a considerable
advantage in speed and athleticism. And while Courtney was not
known as one of the most accomplished brawlers around, it seemed
clear that she would have to take up those tactics, a dose of
counter-programming as it were.
The analysis proved all too accurate for Amy Jo as she came flying out from backstage, hitting the cement of the arena floor with a smack, her right shoulder taking most of the blow. She continued down the aisle in a sideways roll. Courtney popped her head out, a wide smile beaming from ear to ear. She sauntered down to the prone Amy Jo, picked her up and tossed her further down the aisle. Amy Jo, through her great balance, managed to stay upright until...BANG...she said hello to the mat apron, collapsing in a heap with a whimper.
Amy Jo wore a pink gymnastics outfit; a few daisies sprinkled in to apparently up the cuteness factor. Her brunette locks had been tied back in twin pigtails. Courtney did not miss the effort in Amy Jo's apparel, after rearing back and giving her a hard kick to the gut; she picked up Amy Jo by the tails and tossed her into the ring.
"Sorry bitch, but you can't play that young anymore."
Courtney followed closely behind in a tight-fitting silver tank top cut to reveal the midriff and black bicycle shorts cut just under the curve of her still sublime buttocks. As Courtney reached down to regain contact and control, Amy Jo wisely rolled out under the bottom rope to gain time, but Courtney would have none of it. Reaching though the ropes, she once again grabbed Amy Jo by the hair and dragged her kicking and screaming back into the ring.
She landed a forearm shiver that sent Amy Jo backpedaling into the far turnbuckle and followed right behind her with a powerful splash that dropped Amy Jo to her knees. Courtney quickly brought Amy Jo back to her feet, throwing her arms over the top rope to keep her upright. She crossed to the far corner and once again came flying back for a repeat performance. Amy Jo had the wherewithal to duck and roll out of the way of the oncoming blonde, but a lack of blazing speed sometimes has it advantages and Courtney was able to slow her charge enough to take but a glancing blow from the now vacated corner.
Courtney rubbed her tits gently through the shimmering top that seemed painted on for those more than a few feet away. Meanwhile, Amy Jo staggered to her feet, shaking out the cobwebs. She grabbed onto the ropes for support and turned toward Courtney in time for her to see another headlong rush by the Ally star. Once again, she was able to dodge her slower opponent and caught her with kick to the side of the knee that had Courtney crashing wildly into the ropes, meeting one of them face-first. But Amy Jo did not follow-up, instead dancing to the opposite side of the ring, as Courtney quickly recovered, making a quick tooth count with her tongue. She again approached Amy Jo in a straight-line attack, albeit this time in a more deliberate fashion.
"WHAP" came the response, this time with a jab that connected with Courtney's nose.
Amy Jo circled and yet again Courtney closed.
"WHAP, WHAP."
First a kick, then a lightning backhand to the face landed, not with enough force to send Courtney to the mat, but enough to push her back, and to perhaps reconsider her strategy. However, Amy Jo was no longer waiting. She rolled toward Courtney to close the gap between them and rose with a jumping sidekick that was the first forceful blow of the night for the brunette beauty. Courtney fell back into the ropes, splayed across the bottom cable. Amy Jo shot into action again, this time with a sliding dropkick that didn't fully meet the mark, but was enough to send Thorne-Smith to the outside, where she lay gasping for breath. Again, Amy Jo did not follow and she eventually let Courtney back in without any harassment.
The dance recommenced, but this time Courtney lay in wait and when Amy Jo attempted to roll into another attack, Courtney simply sidestepped her, buried her head, and dropped the astonished Amy Jo with a vicious spear that nearly separated the brunette from her footwear. "You've had your fun, bitch. Now, it's time for a fight," Courtney spat at Amy Jo, who feebly wriggled underneath her. Courtney cocked her right and let loose with one...two...three shots to the chin that had Amy Jo's eyes spinning. With the whirling dervish now sufficiently docile, some good old-fashioned nastiness was afoot.
Courtney now slid Amy Jo's arms out of her leotard and stretched the material, now dewy with sweat, down to her waistline revealing her pert breasts. Courtney snatched the mounds of flesh and brought them skyward causing screams of anguish from Amy Jo, who swatted weakly at Courtney's hands trying vainly to drive away the source of this suffering. She then tried to roll out of Courtney's grasp, but this only added to the waves of pain, as her tits were being wrenched by her own movement. Courtney released her grip and placed her palms down atop Amy Jo's bosom.
She leaned all her weight into this crushing maneuver, then let up. She continued this alternating pattern of up and down, up and down, seemingly trying to pancake Amy Jo's tits, just a small portion of the flesh seeping through Courtney's fingers. The pressure applied was excruciating and Amy Jo wailed for Courtney to stop, which she did, but only after Amy Jo's chest had turned a shade that was a considerably deeper red than her outfit, her nipples at strict attention from the increased blood flow.
In the process of working over Amy Jo's chest, Courtney had progressively ridden higher up her torso far enough that when her attack ceased for a split second, Amy Jo was able to kick her legs up and throw Courtney's body up and off. The brunette scrambled away at the same time massaging her aching breasts.
Leaning in the corner, Amy Jo braced herself for the inevitable assault to come and she didn't wait long. Courtney threw herself toward Amy Jo recklessly, but not without purpose. Amy Jo slowed her with a sidekick to the belly that bent the blonde over and followed with a beautiful European uppercut that sent her stumbling back to the middle of the ring, a small trickle of blood flowing from her nose. She angrily wiped it away and made another charge, this time running into a nicely executed dropkick that put Courtney in reverse until she landed hard on her ass, her eyes wild, a sly grin on her face.
Strangely, the quicker Amy Jo remained in her now comfortable corner and so Courtney advanced again, this time taking a right to the chin, still she advanced; a left to the chest, she grimaced, but closer still; a knee to the gut, "ooof", but now in range. Courtney grabbed the ropes on either side of Amy Jo and flung herself forward landing against Amy Jo's bare chest with a smack, then again and again battering her own body against the smaller girl. With each blow she felt Amy Jo weaken, until she was nearly out on her feet.
Courtney moved around behind Amy Jo and pushed her out of the corner, Amy Jo's back to her. She climbed to the second turnbuckle and launched herself, grabbing Amy Jo around the back of the neck mid-flight and following through with a devastating bulldog that sent Amy Jo packing to la-la land.
However, Courtney was far from ready to roll her up for the pin. She grabbed Amy Jo by the crotch, took a handful of material and stretched it up between Amy Jo's rock-hard butt cheeks bringing the WB star back to consciousness with a start. She yanked again even harder, actually causing a tear at the seam of the tights; Amy Jo's moans turning to squeals. She tried to crawl away, but the blonde's grip was too tight and what's more with the tear widening, Courtney now had access underneath.
Sticking first her fingers then her entire hand through, she struck straight for Amy Jo's womanhood slapping on a clawhold that had Amy Jo groaning in what appeared to be pain. Amy Jo's eyes turned wild, as the total desperation of the situation had become all too obvious. My God, what was that - a finger insider her? She closed her thighs tight on Courtney's arm. "Bitch," Courtney screamed, pulling her hand out of the tights and massaging and rolling her wrist.
"OK slut, maybe we'll do a little leg work then."
With that Courtney caught one of Amy Jo's legs in a grapevine and grabbed the other with her hands, laying back she began stretching Amy Jo's legs as wide as she could, the hole in the fabric ripping wide, leaving the brunette's privates, much less so. But no sounds of agony filled the ring. Courtney glanced to see if she was knocked out from the pain, but she most certainly was not. It didn't make sense, she stretched wider still, Amy Jo lay there sucking in air desperately, but no sign of distress. Courtney released the hold, stood and applied a spinning toehold, nothing more than a look of slight discomfort. This was not working, time to return to more fruitful ground.
But before she could reach the promised land that lay before her, Amy Jo extended both legs up like pistons smashing into Courtney's unprotected pussy. She stood frozen in pain unable to utter a sound. Unable that is, until Amy Jo backrolled up to her feet, slid between the wide inviting stance of Courtney and landed a karate chop to her crotch from underneath. "Ooooh," she groaned, but still somehow managed to stay on her feet.
Amy Jo shook her head in awe.
"Unbelievable," she whispered under her breath, as she climbed the nearby turnbuckle.
Despite the show of fortitude, Courtney was nearly immobile and an inviting target. The athletic Amy Jo sprang from the top catching Courtney around the neck with her muscular legs, finally bringing the stubborn blonde to the mat with a flying headscissors.
Now Amy Jo was in her element, she climbed the turnbuckle again and landed the point of her elbow into the sternum of the collapsed Courtney. One more ought to be enough she thought and once again she scrambled to the top turnbuckle, only this time as she readied to launch, she felt a tug on her ankle. Calista Flockhart had made her way onto the apron and held onto Amy Jo for dear life. Amy Jo quickly kicked herself free, but now Calista shook the rope wildly - only the ex-gymnast's superb balance kept her up.
She grabbed a handful of Calista's hair and landed a right uppercut that sent her tumbling to the floor below. As Amy Jo watched Flockhart slam into the first row, she felt a tug at what material was left around her waistline. Before she knew it, Amy Jo was flying through the air in the process of being powerslammed, but as she tumbled, she instinctively held on to Courtney's arm at the elbow and countered with a perfect flying armdrag takedown. Amy Jo clambered to her feet and dropped a head butt into Courtney's solar plexus softening her belly.
After searching for Calista's whereabouts and seeing her only now making her way unsteadily to her feet. She went up once more, this time coming down with a frog splash, using Courtney's navel as an effective bulls-eye.
Courtney's eyes bulged for a moment, as the air left her lungs - her body finally saying 'no more' - passed into unconsciousness. Amy Jo, spent from the frequent flyer miles piled up throughout the grueling match, simply tossed her body on top of Courtney's limp form and took the 1-2-3 for the win, the WB contingent's first of the challenge series, closing the gap to 2-1.
Amy Jo raised her hand in victory, then exhaustedly let it fall to the mat. Suddenly realizing her state of undress, she stripped Courtney of her bicycle pants leaving Courtney only her black thong for cover. It was quite an undertaking as the lycra clung like a second skin to Courtney sweat-soaked thighs. Amy Jo slipped them on, using what was left of her tattered outfit to cover her chest.
"First task complete," she thought.
"We're off the schneid," she shouted to her squad. "Now, let's win this damn thing."
Fox 2 WB 1
Next match: WB co-captain and Dawson's Creek 'It Girl' Katie Holmes vs. Party of Five 'Little Sis' Lacy Chabert.
****
WB-FOX Match #4 Katie Holmes vs. Lacey Chabert by
Hawkeye 26-Dec-99
As WB co-captain Katie Holmes made her way to the
ring, her cohorts cheered wildly with newly found optimism. At
one point down 2-0, a devastating upset loss by Sarah Michelle
Gellar included, they now looked to be a favorite to even things
up at two apiece.
Katie strode confidently down to the apron and climbed through the ropes, every bit the teen dream, girl-next-door. The wispy brunette with the doe eyes dressed in a tight, white cotton tanktop and faded cutoff jeans. She leapt around the ring barefoot looking something akin to a Calvin Klein model crossed with the very definition of a tomboy. She bounced against the ropes, chatting amiably with those in the front row, until she noticed the fans' attention being diverted by the entrance music of her opponent, Party of Five star Lacey Chabert. Katie casually looked over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of her adversary, nothing too impressive she reckoned and resumed stretching against the ropes.
Lacey hopped up from the floor to the mat and slid into the ring. Not waiting for the bell, she rushed Katie from behind and hit her with a double axehandle chop to the back of the neck. Katie, more stunned than hurt from the diminutive girl's effort, stumbled away with Lacey in hot pursuit. With an approximate half-foot difference in height, Lacey decided that lowering her sights might be more practical and she spun the still-disoriented Katie around slamming another double chop deep into her belly.
The brunette doubled over in anguish letting loose with a primal "ooomph!"
Lacey followed with a European uppercut that caught Katie flush under the chin and sent her stumbling back into the ropes where she tried to steady herself, a slight trickle of blood dripping from her pursed lips. Lacey trailed quickly behind, grabbing Katie around the waist and throwing her into the corner. She went to work on Katie's chest and gut, rapidly punching and slapping until the portions of Katie's torso that escaped concealment glowed with a bright scarlet hue. Throughout the battering, Lacey had turned her short stature into a positive; successfully ducking and weaving Katie's return blows that were glancing, at best.
Out of desperation, Katie grabbed onto the baggy, oversized pink shirt that Lacey wore and threw her out of the corner. Lacey was sent backpedaling a few steps before falling on her ass. She adjusted her shirt, which had been tied in a bow at the bottom to reveal her midsection. In addition, she had gone with black sweatpants and though they were not exactly baggy, they left plenty to the imagination, disappointing a great deal of the fans in attendance.
Chabert sprang to her feet with all the ease and energy of the jail bait she was. But Katie wasn't exactly chronologically challenged and her recovery was quick. She had slid out of the corner and though still massaging the sting out of her modest but still exquisite bosom, she was obviously ready for war.
"C'mon you little runt," Holmes yelled. "Let's see how you do when my back's not turned."
Lacey obliged, running headlong at the Dawson star. Katie swung her left arm out and shot forward for a clothesline, but once again Lacey ducked under her attack, bounced off the rope and jumped aboard for a little piggyback ride. She grapevined her legs around Katie's thighs, threw one arm around her neck and began raining a series of blows to Holmes' right cheek and temple, simultaneously cutting off her airflow, as her left arm constricted around Katie's windpipe.
Within seconds, Katie's vision was becoming clouded and her steps unstable. She struggled for air, but this little bitch of a pit bull was having none of it and with a thud Lacey had brought her opponent to her knees. However, Katie still had a few synapses firing and noticing she was in close proximity of the ropes, she fell forward and to the side, rolling under the ropes and down to the floor below with Lacey still attached. Both ladies landed stiffly against the cement, their left sides slamming hard, forcing Lacey to release her grip.
Lacey quickly clambered to her feet and threw the gasping Katie back into the ring. She attempted to follow her in, but was unable and turned around to see Michelle Williams - who had jumped out of her ringside seat - holding her by the left ankle, a wide grin beaming from ear to ear. She tried to kick loose of the young blonde's grip, but with no result. Katie was gaining valuable recovery time and Lacey knew it. She jumped into the air and swung her right foot around catching Michelle with an expertly executed enziguri kick to the back of the head sending her face first to the floor.
With Michelle now rolling in pain, Lacey couldn't help but take another moment or two to place a well-directed kick to the crotch that had Michelle wildly snatching at her - well - snatch. Her beautiful hazel eyes seemingly ready to pop out of her head, she brought one hand away from the incredible pain emanating from her c--- and waved it pleadingly at Lacey.
"No...no," Michelle shrieked and she pointed at the ring - at Katie.
Helping out her teammate had seemed like a good idea, but now self-preservation had taken precedence. Lacey, seeing Katie struggle to her feet, knew that time was short and she dove under the bottom rope, but Katie was waiting and landed a stomp to the nose that had Lacey clutching at her face and rolling back out of the ring.
Michelle began to limp over to where Lacey had fallen out to dispense a little revenge. But as she struggled over, Fox co-captain Neve Campbell made her way over to end any further shenanigans. She raced past Lacey, a folding chair raised overhead and caught Michelle squarely on the forehead knocking her out cold. She then swung the chair against the apron with enough force to catch Katie's attention. The brunette acquiesced to her demand and let Lacey reenter without any additional harassment.
"Over here, little girl," Katie said, motioning Chabert to come toward her but Lacey stood her ground with a bemused look.
Katie was still in worse shape than she, but she knew better than to take such a blatant invitation. Instead, she called to Neve for a little assistance and soon the chair that had moments earlier sent Michelle to dreamland was in the hands of Lacey. Katie approached but maintained a safe distance as a wild swing by Lacey missed its mark.
Seeing her opening, Katie lunged at the young brunette but had failed to anticipate that Lacey could quickly reverse the chair's motion with a backhanded swipe that struck Katie in the jaw. She collapsed in a heap at Lacey's feet. The swing was more defensive in nature, but it still packed a wallop and Katie lay on the mat, her eyes swimming. Seeing her golden opportunity, Lacey placed the chair against her chest and dove against Katie's beckoning belly.
"Awwwohhhh," Katie bellowed, as anticipation of pain became reality.
She felt as if several ribs had been cracked and the struggle to bring in air caused intense pain in itself. But Lacey had not escaped without some consequences. As she threw the chair away, a pained grimace filled her face from the very blow that was about to give her victory, a small price to pay she thought, as she covered Katie for the one-two-thr...Lacey was forced on her side and off Holmes. She looked over at the referee in disbelief. She couldn't have done that...it had to have been three. The ref shook his head and waved his arms wildly, no pin.
Lacey sat stunned. Looking for Neve in the crowd but unable to find her, she turned back toward Katie still writhing on the mat. Again she covered, one-t...again a kick-out. Lacey got to her feet and grabbed Katie by one of the straps of her white cotton halter to bring her up. Halfway to her feet, the garment snapped and Katie fell back on her ass, her left breast bouncing free on impact. Disregarding her newly created fashion statement, Lacey seized Katie under her arms from behind and again attempting to bring her to her feet. However it lasted only for a moment.
Again, Katie fell to the mat, this time to her knees. And, by design, the crown of her head cracked Lacey's chin with a polished jawbreaker. Lacey fell back and away as Katie struggled to the ropes and her feet. She looked down at her halter hanging loosely from her right side and totally gone from her left, her flesh only now starting to return to its natural tan from the deep red it had been minutes before. Disgusted and enraged, she tore into the garment and ripped it off her body throwing it into the first row.
Filled with rage and a sudden burst of adrenaline, she threw herself at the still-dazed Lacey. First connecting with a knee to the already swollen chin of the youngster, then sending her into the opposite ropes and upon her return, planting her with a vicious sidewalk slam that had Lacey staring blankly skyward, the arena lights providing a halo effect around Katie's angelic features.
"So you want to get personal," Katie screamed, "we can get personal."
Katie landed an elbow to Lacey's chest and she jerked involuntarily. Then Katie began to violently tear at Lacey's oversized shirt and within a few tugs it slipped off easily, sharing Chabert's surprisingly large bounty with the world. Katie took several shots at each with palm heel strikes. Lacey squealed in pain as her tits were cruelly smacked from side to side and then excruciatingly compressed by straight-on shots. Not satisfied with simply getting even for her humiliation, Katie quickly moved down the simpering Lacey's body, readily stripping her of her sweatpants.
To Katie and the crowd's surprise, it seemed that nothing came between Lacey and her designer sweats. Lacey reached to conceal her privates out of both self-consciousness and fear, but before she could cover up, Katie had dropped to her knees and slapped on an iron claw, her fingers clamping in through Lacey's sweaty bush. Lacey screamed and swatted at the intruding digits, but Katie used her free arm to keep the youngster's increasingly weaker attempts at bay. As the pain muted Lacey's reactions and allowed Katie to gain total control, she introduced Lacey to five more friends, these journeying further between her legs, pinching her lips, the middle finger gently breaking the surface. Lacey's pain-filled howls were now occasionally interspersed with hushed moans. Several times she was moments away from submitting, anything to end the torture. Yet each time, Katie loosened her claw and would gently circle and probe her femininity - hesitation.
Katie, relishing the ultimate control that she now enjoyed, had lost sight of the struggle going on outside the ring.
Neve, no longer willing to watch this degradation, was fighting her way through both Shannen Doherty and Alyssa Milano. Katie quickly realized the time for play had ended. She dug both hands into Lacey's crotch and squeezed with all her might, fluid dripping between her fingers. The moans had stopped and rapidly the screaming did as well. Katie glanced up at Lacey's face still contorted in pain, but only in remembrance of the point where she had left consciousness behind.
Neve had now fought her way to the apron and Katie hurriedly motioned for the referee to check Lacey. Three times he raised her arm and three times watched it slump lifelessly to the mat.
"Katie Holmes winner by submission," the ref shouted and turned to raise Katie's arm in victory.
Instead Neve was in the ring, shouting at the now-departed Katie and covering Lacey as best she could. Katie curtsied, her breasts swaying casually up and down, and ever so sweetly blew a kiss into the ring, whether for the irate Neve or the slowly awakening Lacey, who could say.
The score: Fox-2, WB-2