Match by: Lord Pumpkin (The darkened lights flash to varied degrees of excitement. Spotlights swirl
as the cameras zig-zag back and forth, coming in and out of focus on fans that
show their dedication to the sport through screaming, yelling, and other acts,
desperate for the chance to be seen on television. Some wave signs. Some bear
T-shirts. Others merely wave their hands in the air, screaming. A large
contingent of bear banners proclaiming the words: ‘Dream-O-Phobic’ as well
as ‘Sisterhood Seduce Me.’ Finally, the camera comes down to Garry and
Sandra, the erstwhile hosts for the program.) Garry: Welcome back, everyone. During the break I decided to get an umbrella. Sandra: (glancing at him suspiciously) OK. I’ll bite. Why did you
get that umbrella? Garry: (laughing maniacally) Because, my dear colleague, it is going
to be raining blood with Evonne and Tiffany. Sandra: Wonderful. (looking at the cameras) And remember ladies, he
actually IS available . . . Garry: My mother has to approve, though. Sandra: Sheesh. During the break I was informed that Tiffany and Evonne both
declined comments to our reporter, Jenna Jamestown. Better luck next time, Jenna. (The haunting sound of Madonna’s ‘Frozen’ begins, inciting the crowd
into frenzy. The eerie tones focus on merely the music and the humming. All the
lights go off and a red spotlight circles around the arena. Then a firecracker
explodes at the top of the stairs above the fans. Lights flash on and off. Then
a red spotlight circles a descending Tiffany from the ceiling with a hanger.
Tiffany meets with the ground and amid the screaming and wild fans the Boston
blonde climbs the announcer's table. She stands tall and confident, looking
around. Then she removes her coat off and throws it aside, revealing her black
bikini top and bottom, rushing into the ring and circling around for a while.
The capacity crowd can barely contain their excitement for the fan favorite.) Garry: Hey! She had no right to jump on this table! This is exclusive
property of BRA and I highly think what she did was a violation of the fire
code. Further - Sandra: As Fire Marshall Garry continues his analysis of mundane and useless,
it looks as if Evonne is ready . . . (Sandra is wrong. The camera clicks back to behind the curtain, to one of the
many dressing rooms. ‘Hotel California’ in a Spanish remake, is bouncing
around the room, the Latin beat hot and excited. The room is filled with
balloons and banners reading ‘Congratulations Evonne.’ The plush room is
filled with exotic snacks, caviar and champagne. Nurse Ansalong, the lackluster
lackey to Dr. Cosmo McKinley wears her tight fitting nurse’s uniform and
dances around the room shaking to the beat. McKinley’s other assistant, the
blonde and lethal Ms. Blush, stands with arms folded and darkened eyes, focusing
on the nurse. For his part, Dr. McKinley is pleased with slightly moving to the
music and prying off the cock of an expensive bottle that sets off with a loud
pop. It appears as if the room is well prepared for an Evonne Carmikel victory.
Who set it up and who invited the Dentonvale crooks is unknown. Regardless, they
appear to be having a relative good time on Evonne’s dollar.) Garry: Did you see that? I think I see the New York Strip and those great
Swedish meatballs I like! Sandra: I am certain if you asked real nice they would give you some. Garry: Yeah, and maybe the redhead comes with it. Sandra: Perhaps. But I think she is looking for more of a commitment. Garry: Ugh. I’m not hungry anymore. That is the worst joke I have heard in
weeks. (The lights in the arena dim down as the theme from ‘Goldfinger’ begins
to play. A chorus of boos and jeers rise from the audience as the Angeltron
comes alive. Only the drowned cheers of the Bag Heads of Camikelholics show any
sign that anyone in the building is happy to see the CEO. One image is on the
screen, the spinning golden dollar sign of the Syndicate. A single gold
spotlight shines on the wrestler entrance as the six foot frame of Evonne
Carmikel steps forward. She cracks an evil grin, soaking up the boo’s as if
they were cheers. She is in her patented gold and black singlet. Her Black Gucci
wrestling boots and kneepads, adorn her legs, silver dollar signs shimmering in
the light. Behind her, laptop and cell phone in hand is Ivana Harlote, Evonne’s
Executive secretary. Evonne stops halfway down the ramp and smiles into the
ring. Ivana hands Evonne her phone and the Carmikel CEO begins to chat about
business.) Garry: I’m surprised Evonne even showed up for this. She’ll make quick
work of this pretender. You might say she’ll ‘wrap her up.’ Ha! Sandra: And you thought MY joke was bad?! At least mine required some kind of
thought to it. (Tiffany and the official wait impatiently as Evonne finishes her phone call.
The fans show their displeasure by continuing to verbally harass her. Evonne
ignores them and speaks to Ivana in a most harsh tone, as if reminding the woman
of something. Finally, Evonne finishes with her call and enters the ring,
keeping a sinister eye on Tiffany, who seems equally as stoic.) Evonne: Who are you again? The Wrap? (Ignoring the nasty statement, Tiffany continues to glare but not before
muttering something that causes Evonne to raise an inquisitive eyebrow. As soon
as the official calls for the bell, Tiffany comes alive, immediately attacking
Evonne. Evonne attempts to duck the short, but Tiffany’s precision is intact,
sending a hard left into her jaw. The tall brunette falls into the turnbuckle
with a terrible impact.) Sandra: Ha! You might say Tiffany’s hit on the Dollar Lady was right on the
money. Garry: Ugh. Shut up! (Back in the ring, the Tiffany who was silent and patient mere moments ago is
now a fury of punishment, sending lefts and rights into the powerful CEO. Oddly
enough, Evonne seems to be concentrating less on defending herself or mounting a
counter attack than she is interested in screaming at the official to make
Tiffany stop. After a moment of Tiffany’s attacks the official seems to come
alive and get the blonde to stop her assault. Evonne responds by slipping out of
the ring for a break. As she turns, livid to her assistant, she starts in with a
horrible and ruthless verbal barrage. Pleading her case, Ivana tries to explain
her inactivity and then the secretary lets out with a fearful squeal as Tiffany
flies over the top ropes, landing on Evonne, both women crashing to the
concrete. Ivana’s eyes grow wide with fear and confusion, then decides to lash
out with a kick to Tiffany. The only response it seems to have is to get the
blonde off Evonne for a moment as she stiff arms the smaller woman, sending her
back into the rail. As Evonne slowly comes to her feet, Tiffany slams her fist
into the larger woman’s lower stomach and applies a power bomb, pounding
Evonne’s back into the concrete. The crowd cheers with satisfaction and
excitement as Evonne screams out in utter pain. The official counts the numbers,
each moment getting closer to a disqualification. As Tiffany reaches down to
further some plan, Evonne manages to collect her thoughts and actions enough to
slam a fist into the intimate area of the blonde, eliciting a scream of terror
and pain from ‘the Wrath.’) Evonne: You are a pathetic loser, like your Big Sis. (Evonne reaches into the face of Tiffany and with a sinister laugh rips away
at the woman’s eyes and face. Instinctively Tiffany tries to protect her vital
area but Evonne continues to attack with several kicks, allowing Tiffany to
stumble backwards. Evonne shouts something out to her assistant, and Ivana
complies by seizing Tiffany from behind, holding her tightly. As Evonne does a
running drop kick, Ivana seems shocked, as she and Tiffany fall to the mat.) Ivana: (mumbling under Tiffany) Hey! You didn’t tell me you were
gonna do that! (Ignoring the underling, Evonne manages to roll back into the ring as the
referee gets dangerously close to the final count. Dazed and on the outside,
Tiffany clears her head and offers Ivana a punch and a kick to the stomach for
her dirty trick with Evonne. She then crawls back into the ring with
determination and anger. Evonne spies Tiffany in pain and still hanging over.
The sinister brunette then bounces off the ropes and applies a ruthless DDT to
Tiffany. The blonde crumples in a heap, causing Evonne to slither like a snake
across her opponent’s prone body for an arrogant pin. The official begins to
count, but Tiffany suddenly comes alive with anger, wrapping her arms around
Evonne and applying a crushing hand to the taller woman’s windpipe. Evonne’s
eyes widen with the sudden turn of events, her arms flailing around sputtering
for air. The official calls for Tiffany to break but she is like a woman
possessed with anger and intensity. With each scream from the official, Tiffany’s
hands seem to grow tighter, her muscles flexing and her eyes narrowing with her
features becoming ever darker. The referee sees that Evonne is turning
interesting hues of blue and begins to pry away Tiffany’s fingers, releasing
the evil CEO from her grip.) Tiffany: Do you feel the Wrath? No? Not yet? I have some more. (As Evonne struggles to get to her feet, Tiffany attacks with merciless
blows. A fist to the brunette’s face, throws her to her back. Tiffany reaches
down and grabs hold of her neck, wrenching it slowly and painfully. The
bloodthirsty crowd cheers as they see the torture of the hated woman continue.
Tiffany brings the taller woman to her feet and with ruthless precision slams
Evonne’s back upon her knee and rolls her off to the mat. Evonne lets out a
terrible scream as she arches her back in pain. She crawls towards the ropes,
slowly moving but desperate to get a breather, perhaps an escape. As she reaches
for the ropes she turns around to see Tiffany coming down up her like a hungry
creature upon its prey. Before Tiffany can attack, Evonne waves her hands in a
worried frenzy.) Evonne: You said before you were lonely, I’ll be your friend. (Tiffany bends down to attack but stalls for just a moment as Evonne’s
words come out, pleading. However, that is all the time that was needed for
Ivana to reach in and slam down the laptop computer atop Tiffany’s head. The
Wrath screams out in pain, holding her head. As the official begins to yell at
Ivana she shrugs her shoulders claiming that the piece of equipment ‘slipped.’
Evonne scrambles to her feet and comes to the outside of the ring apron. She
reaches in and grabs Tiffany’s arm as she comes to her feet. Evonne wrenches
the arm in a strange position and drops off the apron, landing on the outside.
Tiffany falls to the mat, holding her arm and moaning in pain. She thrashes
around wildly as Evonne takes a moment to composer herself and reenter the ring.
As Evonne approaches the blonde, taking pleasure in her suffering, she reaches
down takes the hurt arm and slams her foot underneath the Wrath’s arm. She
pulls tight and falls backwards, laughing as she hears the pained screams of
Tiffany. Evonne then gets to her feet and looks into the crowd raising her arms
taking in the reaction of boos and jeers towards her. As if listening to cheers,
she smiles and taunts them by bowing and winking slyly.) Sandra: Evonne is terrible. That is the sign of a poor wrestler - someone who
grandstands before the show is over. Garry: Look at Tiffany. She is suffering - greatly, I might add. I think its
over. Sandra: Think again, wiseguy. She’s getting up. (Evonne turns slightly and sees Tiffany rising. The brunette is taken back as
she seems to wonder how the blonde can continue to take her punishment and still
walk. She makes her way over to the struggling Tiffany and kicks her with a
cheap shot to the groin, sending the blonde back to the canvass. Evonne then
begins to work on her with tactical precision and a certain amount of hellish
grace. Tiffany finds herself rolled over to her stomach as she still clutches
the target of Evonne’s recent attack. Seizing of the blonde’s legs, Evonne
begins to wrench and twist, positioning herself in a way where Tiffany can not
reach her. The blonde thrashes away in pain and anger but refuses to submit when
the official asks, only making Evonne more frustrated. In response she twists
harder much to the displeasure of the crowd. After a moment of agonized screams,
but no submission, Evonne throws down the leg with great anger and fury,
screaming out some insult. She then drags the pained opponent to the turnbuckle,
gets out and begins smashing her leg against the metal post. Tiffany clutches
away at Evonne but cannot reach.) Evonne: Wrath? You know nothing of fury you insignificant Trollop. I am
Evonne; I am the Harbinger of Doom; I am the face of Wrath Incarnate. Garry: Wow! Strong words by Evonne. (Evonne has gotten back in the ring and has started a series of smashes
against Tiffany’s already ailing leg. With each impact, the blonde brawler
screams out in pain, thrashing and trying to escape. Evonne seems in complete
control of the woman and appears to relish every moment of her domination,
handing out punishment in a way she seems most proud. Evonne, intent on crushing
the leg more crouches down to apply some hold but she is greeted with a low blow
from Tiffany. As Evonne falls to the mat, Tiffany gets up and hobbles around,
trying to walk off the damage that had been caused. With her unhurt leg she
drives her knee into Evonne’s back and seizes her hands, forming a surfboard
maneuver, gritting her teeth and stretching the brunette as far back as she can.
Evonne wails loudly but like Tiffany, does not submit, no doubt keeping a plan
up her sleeve and desperate to use it. The crowd cheers on Tiffany, showing
their hatred of the dreaded and detested Evonne.) Garry: Listen to these tasteless people. They know nothing! I think it is
disgusting the way that they cheer against Evonne. A disaster, really. Sandra: We live in a free country. Besides, they hate Evonne. Garry: I am certain that the feeling is mutual! (Tiffany has picked up Evonne and put the weakened woman in a bow and arrow
stretch over her back, pulling and stretching with all her might. Evonne
thrashes and uses her larger size to escape the hold. She slides off Tiffany’s
shoulders, her back intense with pain. Tiffany tries to stand but her leg gives
way, falling to the mat. Both women are in pain, after having taken a toll on
one another. Evonne, with a sinister glare, begins to crawl her way towards the
turnbuckle and hoists herself to the padding. Once there she begins to agitate,
looking for some way of removing the protection. She barks down at Ivana as she
is slowed due to her pained back. Ivana shouts a warning as Evonne gets attacked
from behind, Tiffany’s good foot impacting squarely with the brunette’s
back. Evonne slumps to the mat on her knees and howls in pain from the ruthless
attack. Tiffany grabs her by her long hair and throws her to the center of the
ring. Meanwhile, Ivana leaps to the apron and starts finishing the job Evonne
had started.) Sandra: Its obvious that whatever high-flying moves either of them had in
mind have now been altered. Both women have taken a considerable beating at each
other’s hands. Garry: Well, duh! I bet the viewers at home could have figured that out,
Sandra. (Tiffany continues to drop herself on Evonne’s back. Each blow seems to
take more and more out of Evonne, but she refuses to allow herself to go under
or to allow Tiffany too much satisfaction. She waits, apparently trying to
reserve her strength, watching as Ivana attempts to remove the protective
cushioning to the turnbuckle. Seeing that her lackey has finished with the
cushions, Evonne reaches behind her and uses all of her strength to grab Tiffany
by the neck and flip her over on her back. As the blonde lands with a painful
thud onto the canvas, Evonne slowly rises, and throws Tiffany into the ropes and
catches her with a kick to the face upon her return. As she lifts up the blonde
she is preparing to throw her into the dangerous turnbuckle. Tiffany, groggy
with the impact, manages to kick backwards, hitting Evonne in the stomach.
Switching places, Tiffany launches Evonne into the corner, resulting in the
brunette’s head, snapping down off the steel and getting thrown backwards,
with blood cascading from her. Ivana grabs her face, terrorized at what had
happened. As Evonne falls backward, stunned and dazed, Tiffany stands firm and
scoops Evonne up. She quickly throws the larger woman to the mat and begins a
most terrible move. Within moments she has put Evonne in a Boston crab followed
by a double armbar and body scissors quickly turning it into a back rack.
Evonne, bloody and pained, screams out. Her pained cries are drowned out by the
crowd but suddenly stopped as Tiffany hoists her up and slams Evonne into the
mat. Tiffany goes for the cover and Evonne lies motionless. The bell sounds
after a three count and Tiffany rises to the sound of the cheering fans.) Garry: Oh, crap! (Tiffany, looking down at the near unconscious Evonne, takes away her hand
from the official, and scoops Evonne up. Ivana comes to the ring apron and
begins making threats and pleas to Tiffany who subsequently ignores her. As
Evonne slowly comes to, she escapes the hold, by putting Tiffany in a DDT,
smashing her into the ground, then makes her way towards Ivana, pushing her off
the apron, angry over the mishap with the turnbuckle. Ivana escapes up the ramp
as Evonne slowly follows. Tiffany has gotten up, and raises her arms in praise
from the crowd.) Sandra: See, Garry. This is how a true champion treats the audience. Garry: (glaring sideways) You’re a nitwit.