Carnival Cavalcade Wrestling
CCW Chaos, episode #9: The Point of No Return
In the commissioner’s office…
Hollander, in a new three-piece suit, sits at his desk, hands folded on top, with Deputy Commissioner Jules Moreno, her blue power suit immaculate with heels to match, standing alongside.
Underneath girl Sarah Lawrence, her blue hair recently redyed, stands opposite the desk. She hasn’t been seen in the CCW Arena the last two weeks. Her Doc Martens together, fidgeting with her nails, Sarah looks from commissioner to deputy commissioner and back…then her brows knit as something over Hollander’s shoulder catches her eye.
SARAH: “What’s she doing here?”
Everyone looks to the corner, where Zehra, in a sheer black robe and…probably something beneath it?...reclines on a red-velvet chaise lounge.
JULES (eyes rolling): “Don’t ask. Anyway. Sarah, we wanted to discuss your proposal.”
SARAH (stops fidgeting, hands at her sides): “Yes, awesome. So, I realize that, as an underneath girl, I’m basically here to lose — and I have — but I also know there are girls in that room busting their asses to get out of it...”
HOLLANDER: “Mmm, too many.”
SARAH: “…and that’s never going to be me. I feel like I’m just taking up a spot.”
HOLLANDER: “So why not just quit? You’re not drawing any ratings, Christ knows.”
JULES: “Hollis, please. He does have a slight point though, Sarah. If you don’t want to be here, I’ll release you from your contract with no harm done. Wrestling, CCW especially, isn’t for everyone.”
SARAH: “That’s just it, Ms. Moreno. I do want to be here. This business, and this place, fascinate me. That’s why I took a year off to come out here. I want to write my thesis on this place.”
The commissioners share a nervous look.
SARAH: “With all the names changed, of course. Anyway, that’s why I proposed what I did. I think it would be a great role for me to accomplish my goals and still contribute to the company. (she folds her hands, tight, against her chin) I’ve read everything you gave me.”
The commissioners look at each other. Hollander nods.
JULES: “You understand there’d be a slight pay cut?”
SARAH (smiling, rocking back on her heels): “Uh huh.”
HOLLANDER: “And we’d need you to start tonight.”
SARAH: “OK. (nodding) I’d love that.”
JULES: “All right, we’ll make the change. Starting tonight.”
Sarah squees, twisting in place.
JULES: “Consider your wrestler contract terminated. I’ll draw up a new contract for you to sign later tonight. (she takes a sealed package from Hollander’s desk and hands it to Sarah) And you’ll need that.”
SARAH: “Thank you so much, Ms. Moreno. (she nods) Commissioner Hollander. I will not let you guys down.”
Giggling, Sarah scampers out of the office.
Shauna, formerly Blonde of The Pack, comes into the office, a gym bag in her hand, a sheepish smile on her face; sneakers and plain, CCW-branded sweats on her body.
SHAUNA: “Hi. I was told you wanted to see me?”
JULES: “Yes, Shauna. There’s a couple things Commissioner Hollander and I want to go over with you. (she smiles) How do you feel your first night?”
SHAUNA: “Excited. Nervous. (she squints across the room at Zehra, then returns her gaze to the commissioners)”
JULES: “Did you decide on a ring name?”
SHAUNA: “Yeah, and I know it’s not very exciting, but I want to be ‘Shauna Carson.’ It’s my real name. I just figured, if I’m going to do this as myself, I should really be myself, you kn-”
HOLLANDER: “Yeah, that’s fine. You’re booked tonight.”
SHAUNA: “Oh, I…I am? OK. Awesome.”
HOLLANDER: “You’re going to be the opponent for Hannah Hammer. She lost last week, so I imagine she’ll be pretty angry.”
SHAUNA: “OK, well… (she swallows hard) I’ll try my best to-”
JULES: “This is what we’d like you to wear.”
Jules takes another sealed package from the desk and hands it over.
SHAUNA: “Oh, OK. I mean, I bought some gear, y’know, just to get started. I didn’t reali-”
JULES: “This is what we’d like you to wear going forward.”
SHAUNA: “OK. (she hefts the package) Were there boots too, or…?”
HOLLANDER: “No boots.”
SHAUNA: “OK, that’s cool. I’ll just wear the boots I bought.”
JULES: “No, Shauna. No boots.”
Shauna looks to the corner, where Zehra, smirking, wiggles her toes at her.
SHAUNA: “So, you want me wrestling barefoot.”
JULES: “Yes. We think that, and the gear we picked, will be a good look for you.”
Shauna looks at the package, then her gym bag, and back.
SHAUNA: “Is this like…stripper stuff?”
JULES: “No, sweetheart. Not at all. It’s wrestling gear. And it’ll all make sense when you open the package.”
SHAUNA: “OK. I guess I’ll head to the locker room then?”
JULES: “Yes, go ahead. And good luck tonight.”
Jules’ smile stays in place until Shauna leaves the office.
HOLLANDER: “God, she is gonna be perfect for the chubby chasers and the loser lovers.”
Zehra laughs.
HOLLANDER: “Tell me I’m wrong. That girl is going to be popular for all the best CCW reasons.”
JULES: “I know she is. I just hate that part of what I do for this place.”
HOLLANDER: “Speaking of which, did you sign that contract for the new star?”
JULES: “I did, but Hollis…she had better adhere to the restrictions in it. I’ll run her right out of here if she doesn’t.”
HOLLANDER: “Hey, I agree with those restrictions too. I want her here for her wrestling ability, not…any of the rest of it.”
JULES: “Fine.”
HOLLANDER: “Excellent. I’ve got her booked for tonight too.”
JULES: “Feeding her an underneath girl, I assume?”
HOLLANDER: “Oh yes.”
JULES: “Who?”
In the arena…
Jessica Kelly and, against the assistant trainer’s advice, Teresa Salazar are already in the ring for the first match.
Jessica is looking downright formidable. Her gear is the same, but the body underneath it is more toned, lean, muscular. She looks more ready to wrestle than we’ve ever seen her.
Teresa just looks pissed.
JESSICA (stretching): “Hey, I know you’re an angry bitch in general, but you look like you’re gonna explode. I need you focused if we’re gonna win this.”
TERESA: “First off, I was a wrestler before you we born and, when I was your age, I had a much better record than you do. Second off, one of these bitches we’re wrestling cracked my fucking rib, got me kidnapped, and cost me my gear. What do you want?”
Jessica steps close to Teresa and lays a hand on the bare small of her back, below the mummy-like wrap around her ribs and under her singlet.
JESSICA (rubbing Teresa’s back): “I want you help you put these girls away and get your win back. I want to be your partner tonight. You gonna let me do that?”
Teresa, head down, smirks, looks her partner in the eye.
TERESA: “I’m sorry, Jess. I shouldn’t’ve been like that. I’m just mad.”
JESSICA: “I get it. And listen, I don’t give a fuck what the office thinks, we can beat these girls.”
TERESA (chuckles): “You’re a bad little bitch since you left The Pack, you know that?”
JESSICA: “I just don’t want to be underneath forever. I know you don’t either.”
TERESA: “That’s the other thing that’s pissing me off.”
JESSICA: “What is?”
Teresa steps away from Jessica’s hand.
TERESA: “Look, Jess, you’re a wrestler like I’m a wrestler. Can I trust you with this?”
JESSICA: “Yes. Of course.”
TERESA: “Scarlett Jackson went through me, after I beat her, to get that Tri-County title shot. Then she wins it and gives a shot to Sunny? That’s bullshit.”
JESSICA: “I hear you. But you saw that match Sunny had with Scarlett. That’s probably our match of the year.”
TERESA: “Goddammit, I know it was.”
Referee Roger Clayton leans in.
CLAYTON: “Everything OK over here, ladies? Jimmy’s about to announce.”
JESSICA (waving him away): “Yeah, yeah; it’s fine. (he goes) But if you know that was a great match, why are you-”
TERESA: “Jess, how old are you?”
Jimmy Swift begins the ring announcements.
JESSICA (sighs): Twenty-three.
TERESA: “I’m forty-fucking-four. My abs are shredded from a c-section. I have to cheat my ass off to stay competitive. My one win? I cheated. And then Scarlett put my ass away in our contender match. (she tears up, hands on her hips) Sorry. (she turns away from the hard camera) I wanted this so much when I came back, but it’s been really fucking hard. And I feel…so far away from another win, let alone a title shot.”
The Russian Farmhands’ dreary music hits and they start down the aisle.
JESSICA (takes Teresa’s hands): “Listen, if you want to take the match off, it’s fine, but, for Christ’s sake, you’re in here with girls half your age, you give everyone a run, you beat the girl who just won the Tri-County Championship, you got kidnapped after getting your rib cracked in a match only to beat the shit out of the guy and deliver him to the cops. (she squeezes her partner’s hands) Bitch, give yourself a break.”
They share a look.
TERESA: “I’ll start.”
The Tale of the Tape
Jessica Kelly is 5’4”, 125lbs, with light brown hair and blue eyes. She wrestles in a backless blue singlet, blue knee pads, and white boots. An underneath girl, she is currently 1-8. Teresa Salazar is an underneath girl with a 1-7 record. She is 5’8”, 135lbs, with brown hair and brown eyes. Her blood-red singlet recently destroyed, Teresa is wrestling in a backless, black singlet, cut high over her hips, black knee pads, and black boots with a blood-red flame pattern embroidered in them. The Russian Farmhands are a star team. Anya is 28, 5’9”, 160lbs, with dyed dark-red hair and green eyes. She wrestles in a black singlet, red knee pads, and black boots. Olga is 30, 5’10”, 165lbs, with brown hair and brown eyes. She wrestles in a dark-red singlet, black knee pads, and dark-red boots. Both sisters are 5-4.
The referee calls for the bell.
The Russian Farmhands vs. Jessica Kelly & Teresa Salazar
Teresa, back straight, determined, circles with Anya, the smaller, prettier, smarter of the two Russian bruisers.
ANYA: “I see it is the Spanish sensation back again. What shall we break this time, eh? Your legs? Your arms? (she sneers) Maybe it should be your n-”
Teresa gauges her eye, slaps her hard across the face, grabs a front facelock, and drives Anya’s skull into the mat with a short DDT. She pops up, ignores the referee’s warning about going to the eyes, and tags Jessica.
TERESA: “My rib is fucking killing me. Keep her on the ground, work her neck and head, keep her disoriented, then bring me back.”
JESSICA: “You got it.”
Jessica meets a staggering Anya center ring and drills her square in the face with a perfect standing dropkick. Anya crashes back to the mat and Jessica pounces, cranking her neck with a tight side headlock on the mat.
JESSICA: “Ask her, ref!”
Clayton drops to a knee and checks in with the red-headed Russian as Anya’s boots pound the mat. Anya refuses to submit. Jessica, maintaining the headlock, reaches back with her legs and scissors Anya’s near leg. She twists her body toward Anya’s back for leverage and then uses her arms and legs to bend the Russian’s spine back into a bow.
JESSICA: “Give it up! Ask her!
CLAYTON: “What do you say, Anya? You want me to ring it?”
Anya cries out her defiance in both English and Russian.
In the Farmhand corner, Olga, the bigger, stronger sister, bellows for a tag.
Jessica releases Anya’s leg, then puts her knee into the pretty Russian’s back and readjusts the headlock into a chinlock, effecting a modified camel clutch.
While the referee checks in with Anya — who cries out in agony but doesn’t give up — Jessica looks to the corner.
Teresa gives her a nod.
Jessica slams Anya’s face into the mat, drags her to the corner by the ankle with both hands and several grunts, and tags Teresa.
Teresa plants her boot on Anya’s sore back, pressing her belly to the mat and squeezing a groan from her.
TERESA: “Can you land something hard off the top? An elbow?”
JESSICA: “Not really my thing, but…”
TERESA: “For fuck’s sake, Jess, can y-”
JESSICA: “Yes! I can do it. Probably.”
Teresa makes a face.
TERESA: “Good enough. Be ready. I can’t stay in here long.”
She hauls Anya to her feet, grabs a side headlock of her own, then looks across the ring.
TERESA: “Hey, Olga. Your sister’s over here crying. Did you bring an extra diaper for her?”
Olga charges into the ring, screaming about Teresa’s mother, but the referee cuts her off.
Teresa stands Anya up, punts her right between the legs, then plants her face-first into the canvas with a Rocker-Dropper. Still seated on the mat, she reaches up to tag Jessica.
TERESA (holding her arms close to her torso): “I can’t get up. Fuuuhck.”
Jessica leans in and makes the tag as the referee moves Olga back to the apron.
JESSICA: “Wow, I haven’t seen a Rocker-Dropper since-”
TERESA: “Go!”
Teresa rolls out of the ring and crumples to the floor.
Jessica gets to the top slightly faster than a non-wrestler would, catches her balance for a split second, and jump/falls off the turnbuckle…
…but her elbow is accurate, lancing right into Anya’s sore spine. The Russian redhead’s back arches, and she screams her pain.
Jessica grabs Anya’s shoulder, pulls her onto her back, then drops to her knees in a straddle across the Russian’s belly and pins Anya’s arms up over her head at the wrists.
Anya moans, groans, and offers one hopeless kick of protest as the referee tolls the 1-2-3 and calls for the bell at 3:22.
Jessica and Teresa each score their second win, moving to 2-8 and 2-7 respectively. The Russian Farmhands each fall to 5-5.
Olga slams the top turnbuckle with both fists as Jessica slides out under the bottom rope to kneel next to Teresa, who’s still face down.
TERESA: “Please tell me that wasn’t her pinning you.”
JESSICA: “Nope. Listen.”
SWIFT: “Here are your winners, Jessica Kelly and Teresaaaa Salazar!”
TERESA: “Oh, he put a little zing on my name. I like that.”
JESSICA: “That next win wasn’t so far away after all, was it?”
TERESA: “And you have me to thank for it.”
JESSICA: “Help you up?”
TERESA: “You’re my goddamn partner, aren’t you?”
JESSICA (sliding Teresa’s arm over her shoulders): “You betcha.”
In the underneath locker room…
Melora O’Brien, in her slightly-too-tight street clothes, flips the deadbolt and pulls the door open.
MELORA: “Hi. Welcome in.”
SHAUNA: “Thank you.”
Moving as not to disturb the air, Shauna, gym bag in hand, creeps more than walks into the dim, worn room. She’s, as she was told to be, barefoot, wearing the gear she was given: a cheetah-print singlet and black knee pads.
Melora closes the door behind her, giving Shauna a start.
MELORA: “There’s a fair amount of empty lockers along there. You can have any of them.
SHAUNA: “Thank you. Oh… (she offers her hand) I’m Shauna Carson. I’m starting here tonight. I guess you know that.”
MELORA (accepts the handshake): I do. I’m M-”
SHAUNA: “Melora O’Brien. I know. Ohmygod, you looked so sexy when you beat Zehra last week.”
MELORA: “Oh, thank you. Wow, that’s embarrassin’.”
SHAUNA: “I was like that girl is…wearin’ that bikini. And the way you put Zehra away? So fucking hot. Oh god. (she covers he mouth) I’ve known you two seconds. Sorry. I’m just really nervous.”
MELORA (smiling): “You’re fine. The bikini was…not my first choice, but I’m glad you enjoyed the match. I did too.”
SHAUNA: “I did. I thought you were great. Coming in here with no shoes on was not my first choice, but I’m trying to-”
SUNNY: “What’s wrong with walking around with no shoes on?”
Startled, Shauna realizes Sunny Austin, Cassie Rae, and Tiffany Green have been watching from across the room, near a little monitor on a little table near the wall. With a nod from Melora, Shauna leaves her bag on the bench in front of the lockers and ventures deeper into the room.
SHAUNA: “Ohmygod, Sunny Austin, I didn’t see you guys over here. (she looks Sunny — barefoot in her orange-and-white bikini, of course — up and down) God, you are so tall and gorgeous. I’m not sure I know how to talk to you.”
She takes Sunny’s offered hand and they shake.
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SUNNY (laughing): “What a weird thing to say. (she shrugs) I’m just another girl in this shitty locker room. Talk to me that way.”
SHAUNA: “OK, I’ll try.”
SUNNY: “And by the way, you’re pretty gorgeous yourself. And I never say no to another barefoot girl in h-”
Cassie gives Sunny a playful elbow in the belly.
CASSIE: “OK, down girl. (she offers her hand to Shauna). Hey. I’m Cassie Rae.”
Shauna takes the handshake with a furrowed brow.
SHAUNA: “Cassie, we’ve met. In the ring. It’s me…Blonde.”
Cassie makes a face, shaking her head.
CASSIE: “Blonde? I did once wrestle a girl called Blonde, but I heard she’s not around anymore, and I don’t see her here now. What’s your name?”
They share a look. Shauna’s eyes go just a bit glassy.
SHAUNA: “I’m Shauna. Carson.”
CASSIE: “Welcome to our little family, Shauna. You’ve met Melora and Sunny. This is Tiffany Green.”
TIFFANY (hand offered): “What’s up, girl?”
They shake.
SUNNY: “So, seriously, I love this look (she traces her words with her hand) Love the hair, love the face, love the body, love the gear, love the mani, love the pedi; love it.”
SHAUNA (looking herself over): “Thanks. I’m just…not…”
CASSIE: “The office picked the gear. And is making you work barefoot.”
SHAUNA: “How’d you know?”
Everyone else looks at Cassie, who’s in street clothes — a tight white tank, low-rise jeans, flat sandals — with a smirk on her face.
CASSIE: “You don’t look comfortable, for a start. And I know how this company works. There are sometimes underneath girls they like to…highlight, let’s say. (she pokes a thumb at Sunny) like this one here, for example.”
SUNNY: “The office never told me what to wear.”
CASSIE (fixing her with A Look): “Yeah, because you don’t wear anything.”
Melora and Tiffany giggle.
Sunny strikes a little pose, hand on her hip, the other wandering her hair.
SUNNY: “I haven’t gotten any complaints, especially from you.”
Cassie, blushing, slides her arm around Sunny’s waist.
CASSIE: “Mmm…silly. (she smiles at Shauna) You look beautiful, and we can talk lots more about the way things work around here, and what you can do within it — because there’s a lot — but we should let you get ready for your match. Hannah Hammer is a tough, tough girl.”
SHAUNA: “Oh. OK.”
CASSIE: “By the way, we dress in here. You don’t have to dress in the bathroom, or wherever you dressed.”
SHAUNA: “OK. Thank you.”
Shauna wanders to the bench opposite the lockers and sits facing them, one leg bouncing incessantly.
Melora appears at her shoulder.
MELORA: “Want to talk a little more before you head out there?”
SHAUNA: “Oh god, yes. I would love that.”
In the star locker room…
The Russian Farmhands sit in one corner of the room, dejected after their loss to an underneath-girl team. In the adjacent corner, Outlaw Annie Hook holds court with The Cowgirl Sisters.
Across the room, Sizzlin’ Scarlett Jackson, the new Tri-County Champion, sits in front of her open locker, the title belt across her lap. She runs her hands over the center plate, smiling, taking in the texture of the metal.
A shadow falls across her.
TIANA: “Hey.”
Scarlett looks up to find Tiana Miles, in sharp street clothes, standing over her.
SCARLETT: “Hey…”
TIANA: “Congratulations. (she nods at the belt) Great win.”
SCARLETT: “Thanks.”
TIANA: “Guess you aim to keep it, giving that underneath bikini bitch the first shot.”
SCARLETT (easing the belt into her bag): “Whatever you say, Tee.”
Scarlett pokes around at other things in her bag.
TIANA: “I guess it’s easier to give title shots to sure things than it is to remember the partner you abandoned.”
Scarlett, chuckling, looks up over her shoulder, fixing Tiana with a glare.
SCARLETT: “Like I said, Tee. Whatever you say.”
TIANA: “Anything for your friend Cassie, I guess.”
Scarlett stands, casually steps into Tiana’s face.
SCARLETT: “Yeah, I’d call Cassie a friend, sure. But Sunny is getting a title shot because, while you were busy leaving me flat in the ring because you couldn’t handle yourself, Sunny stepped up and gave me the match of my life. She earned the shot, so she’s getting it.”
TIANA: “Maybe I could have handled myself better with a tag partner who gave a shit about me.”
SCARLETT (waves that away): “Sister, please. I knew you and Cassie had some kind of past, but you didn’t tell me a goddamn thing about what happened between you, or what you were going through after that match with Judy Mulray. I was your partner, Tee. I could have helped you.”
TIANA: “Help me now. You saw what happened to me last week with that little white-trash hick. Cassie did that. Be my partner again and we’ll get Cassie out of here forever.”
SCARLETT (laughing, shaking her head): “Bitch, this ain’t high school. It’s professional wrestling. And if you think I’d help you cross the street now that I know what you did to Cassie — now that I know you led The Pack — you’re outta your damn mind.”
TIANA (quaking): “I’m not gonna start anything in the locker room, but I’ll give you the heads up. Once I’m finally done with Cassie, I’m comin’ for you next. Partner.”
SCARLETT: “I can’t wait.”
Tiana turns to go. Anna Konda, in her skin-tight, snake-print gear, is standing right there. She looks over Tiana’s shoulder.
KONDA: “I will see you in the ring tonight, Scarlett. I hope you are enjoying your time with my title.”
SCARLETT: “You will. And I am.”
TIANA: “You’re in my way.”
KONDA: “My apologies, Tiana Miles. Were you in the middle of running away again? (she steps aside) Please, do not let me stand in your way.”
Tiana and Anna Konda stare each other down.
KONDA: “Are you contemplating a match with me? (she slides a hand down her body) Or are you contemplating what wrestling me would do to you?”
Tiana storms from the room, slamming the door as she goes.
In the arena…
Josie Myer, already in the ring — her flip-flops tucked away under the bottom turnbuckle, her foot on the second rope so she can stretch — is the opponent for the next match.
Center ring, Jimmy Swift realizes Josie is the only one in the ring with him. He looks to the timekeeper, who gives him a high sign.
A referee trots down the aisle and slides into the ring. Josie freezes mid-stretch.
JOSIE: “Sarah?”
Sarah Lawrence, in her brand-new CCW referee uniform, shakes hands with Swift, then goes to Josie’s corner, a big smile on her face.
SARAH: “They accepted my proposal.”
JOSIE: “I see that. That’s awesome. Congrats.”
They stop themselves from hugging.
SARAH: “Yep, it’s suddenly very weird my first match as a ref is one of yours.”
JOSIE: “Yeah, getting counted down by my former parter is gonna be a little weird.”
SARAH (shrugs): Hey, maybe I’ll get to count your first win.”
JOSIE: “Maybe, but it won’t be tonight. They’re feeding me to the new star.”
SARAH: “Hey, dude. You never know. The Russian Farmhands got beat in their debut by Cassie and Sunny.”
JOSIE: “Just promise you’ll call it straight, babe, OK? (she tugs the top rope with both hands) Don’t favor me. Don’t save me. Promise?”
SARAH (solemn nod): “Yes. I promise.”
Josie nods. Sarah takes her place in a neutral corner as Swift gets the signal from the timekeeper.
SWIFT: “The following contest is scheduled for one fall. Currently in the ring, from the local area, Josie Myer.”
The Tale of the Tape
An underneath girl with an 0-5 record, Josie is 24, 5’6”, 125lbs, with a curly mop of dark brown hair and brown eyes. She wrestles barefoot in a plain, black sports bra and cuffed, gray, low-rise sweatpants.
Some catcalls and cheers for Josie, who’s ready to compete. She raises both fists briefly, acknowledging the crowd.
SWIFT: And her opponent…
A booming, driving march hits the speakers and red lights illuminate the aisle.
SWIFT: From the Fatherland…Colonel Besiegen!”
She’s 5’10”, 160, and built like a bunker. She has blonde hair, cropped close to her head, and blue eyes. She’s wearing a black-and-red singlet, black-and-red knee pads, and knee-length, black-leather boots. She’s carrying a black-and-red military officer’s hat under her arm and making her way to the ring with big, strutting steps.
Colonel Besiegen stomps up the ring stairs and methodically steps through the ropes, her piercing gaze on her opponent.
Sarah swallows hard and steps to the center as the colonel places her hat on the ring post in her corner. She turns, hulking, staring at Josie…
…who, for the first time before a match, looks terrified. Or, no…zombified?
Sarah shakes her head and calls for the bell.
Colonel Besiegen vs. Josie Myer
Josie walks, slow and flat-footed, out of her corner, hands at her sides.
Sarah circles toward Josie, but Besiegen is wasting no time. She takes three big strides across the ring and plasters Josie in the face with a big boot.
Josie hits the mat hard and sprawls out.
SARAH: “Fuck…”
Besiegen, laughing, plants her tall boot on Josie’s bare stomach. Sarah throws herself into position.
1…
2…
Josie cries “No!” and gets her shoulder up.
Sarah, on her hands and knees, hovers over Josie.
SARAH: “Jo, let me ring it. There’s something wrong with you. I can tell. Let me r-”
JOSIE (struggling to sit up): “Don’t you…fucking dare…”
Sarah rolls clear of the advancing colonel, who winds her thick fingers into Josie’s wild curls and slowly brings the woozy girl to her feet, then up on her toes.
Josie does nothing to resist as Besiegen shoves her hard into the corner and starts laying big rights and lefts into her belly and thick forearms into her chest.
Josie’s arms dangle at her sides as she grunts and cries out under the beating.
Sarah tries to get between the colonel and her prey.
SARAH: “Get her out of that corner, colonel! Right now! Let her out of there, let’s go!”
Sarah starts the DQ count and gets to four before Besiegen, grinning, chuckling, steps back away from Josie, who’s slumped in the corner, barely conscious.
Sarah shields Josie with her body and grabs the top rope to either side of her, bracketing Josie’s arms.
SARAH: “That’s enough now, Jo, please. I gotta ring the bell, you’re getting killed in here.”
JOSIE (shaking her head): “Not giving…up. Can’t.”
SARAH: “It’s one match. Josie, please!”
The colonel shoves Sarah aside with one arm and wraps her hand around Josie’s throat. Arms dangling, toes brushing the mat, Josie drools on Besiegen’s hand, red tendrils mixed with the saliva.
Sarah, wide-eyed, reaches for the colonel’s bulky arm.
SARAH: “Wait. Wait!”
With just the one arm, Besiegen hoists Josie up, full arm’s length, and lets her hang there, the colonel’s meaty hand clamped around her neck.
Josie’s fingers and toes twitch.
SARAH: “You’re choking her, goddammit! Let her go! One! Two! Three! Four!”
With a smirk at Sarah, Besiegen slams Josie down the canvas.
Josie vomits an ungodly sound from somewhere near her soul, then settles out, unconscious.
SARAH: “That’s it! Ring the bell, ring the fucking bell!”
Sarah dives on top of Josie, screaming and signaling for help, as Besiegen, chuckling, smiling, lords over them.
Jimmy Swift, shaking his head, announces Colonel Besiegen the winner by knockout at 2:03.
Sarah gets to her knees alongside Josie, rubbing the back of the KO’d girl’s neck.
SARAH: “Come on, babe.”
She checks Josie’s neck for a pulse, then something catches her eye…
Josie’s waistband is pushed down below her entire stomach, which is heaving out of control. Tattooed just inside her hip crest are two small Stars of David.
Then Sarah hears it, the cackle.
She looks up to find Colonel Besiegen looking right at the same spot on Josie’s stomach…with a big, wolfish grin on her face.
BESIEGEN: “I knew it.”
Sarah springs to her feet.
SARAH: “You get the fuck to the back right now! You hear me? Turn your ass around and get to the back or I’ll reverse the decision, you fucking Na-”
The colonel drills Sarah in the temple with a reverse elbow, knocking her clean out as the rest of CCW’s referees storm the ring.
Jessie Motley and Clark Sierra shield Josie and Sarah while senior official Jack Blake leads the others in moving the cackling colonel out of the ring.
Colonel Besiegen wins her debut match. Josie, usually a spirited competitor, never stood a chance. She’s now 0-6.
In the commissioner’s office…
Hollander — with Jules to one side of him and Zehra, now in her ring gear, to the other — watches the monitor, where Brit, the assistant trainer, is helping two EMTs move Josie Myer from the mat to a waiting ringside gurney.
JULES (wheeling on Hollander): “I don’t know exactly what went on there at the end that set Sarah off, but she’s a CCW referee now. That elbow just cost der colonel $1,500, and that’s before we even have her payroll paperwork on file.”
HOLLANDER: “So, she hit the referee. I’m sure she was just overstimulated by such a decisive victory.”
JULES: “Josie Myer is not just another underneath girl; she’s a promising young wrestler for this company. And if I find out that little post-match exchange was about what I think it’s about, Besiegen is fired. Until then, you need to handle this new star you had to have.”
HOLLANDER: “She took all the iconography off her gear. That’s basically what we asked her to do. I don’t see how you can know whether-”
JULES: “You booked Besigen against Josie Myer because you knew it would set her off. Did you think for one second what it might do to Josie?”
HOLLANDER (red-faced): “Josie Myer is a contracted CCW underneath girl. We use those girls to-”
JULES (finger in his face): “Handle this, Hollis. Get your fat ass out of this office and handle this. Or I will. (she heads for the door) And good luck looking yourself in the mirror.”
Jules slams the door behind her. Hollander, hands on his hips, turns to find Zehra looking fearful and uneasy at him.
HOLLANDER: “What?”
ZEHRA: “I don’t like what you did.”
HOLLANDER: “Well, what the hell do I care what you like?”
Zehra pads to her chaise lounge and lays down, facing the wall.
HOLLANDER: “Zehra, what…come on.”
Zehra pulls the discarded sheer robe over herself.
ZEHRA: “I will wrestle when it’s time. We don’t need to speak until then.”
HOLLANDER (shaking both fists at nothing): “Goddammit!”
He storms out of the office.
In the arena…
Shauna Carson, looking fierce from the neck down and…conflicted from the neck up, is already in the ring for the next match.
There were some whistles and catcalls from the small part of the crowd along the aisle that could see her when she made her unlit, non-entrance. No negativity about her weight — which is 10 pounds less than when she was last in the ring, thank you very much — but far more off-putting, it turns out, no indication any of them, on the aisle or anywhere in the arena now that she stood waiting in her corner, knew she was Blonde of The Pack.
But, letting that feeling swirl through her just a bit, Shauna’s belly and hands feel warm, the rough canvas good under her office-mandated bare feet, and the pressure on her skin from cheetah-print singlet hugging her all over felt exactly right.
Shauna Carson, professional wrestler — beautiful, sexy, curvy, blonde not Blonde — has officially arrived. For just a few moments, everything, past, present, and future, falls away.
She smiles.
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 0-3. Shauna wrestles barefoot in a cheetah-print singlet and black knee pads. Hannah Hammer is a star with an 8-2 record. She is 23, 5’7”, 160lbs, with brown hair and hazel eyes. She wrestles in short denim overalls, a yellow tee, and brown work boots.
Jimmy Swift introduces Hannah and, despite losing to Sunny Austin in an indisputable upset last week, she makes her usual jovial, glad-handing entrance. Looking as wholesome as ever, Hannah climbs the ring steps, gets through the ropes, and receives a nice wave of glory from the crowd. The stout, strong girl goes to her corner and gives Shauna a single, quick nod.
Referee Clark Sierra calls for the bell.
Hannah Hammer vs. Shauna Carson
Shauna breathes, circling Hannah carefully, hands out, looking for an opening.
Hannah lunges in and they tie up. Shauna digs her feet into the mat, trying to grip it with her toes while she pushes with her legs, belly and back, but Hannah is overwhelmingly powerful and forces Shauna back to into the corner with ease. The referee moves in, looking for a clean break. Hannah gives it to him, and Shauna, back against the turnbuckle, lets it happen.
Hannah, giving Shauna another little nod, circles back to the center. Having felt her opponent’s power, knowing her strength was nothing compared to Hannah’s, Shauna — breathing, watching — circles wider, trying to avoid another tie-up.
Hannah circles in sync with Shauna long enough for the blonde jungle girl’s mind to lose focus, just slightly. Hannah reverses direction, just for a moment, starling Shauna, bringing her up on her toes.
SHAUNA: “Oh no…”
Hannah buries a surging knee lift in Shauna’s stomach, dropping her to her hands and knees.
All planning and breath driven from her, Shauna’s mind and will surrender her body to her opponent.
Hannah leads the gasping Shauna back to her feet, scoops her up without so much as a grunt, and drives Shauna back to the canvas with a body slam. Shauna sprawls, breath ragged in her chest, eyes closed, groaning.
Hannah pulls Shauna back up, corrals her and shoots her into the ropes. Shauna hits the ropes and rebounds back, dutiful, compliant. She runs right into Hannah’s arms for the tilt-a-whirl JackHammer sidewalk slam.
Unable to breathe or think, Shauna lays out spread-eagle, only vaguely aware of the plaintive moans of surrender leaking out of her. Hannah, on one knee, leans the other onto Shauna’s chest and gets the academic 1-2-3. Sierra calls for the bell at 1:15.
Hannah gets to her feet, gets her hand raised, and gets her glory. She spares her defeated opponent a glance, then heads up the aisle.
Hannah gets back to winning, bettering her record to 9-2. In her first match as an official CCW underneath girl, Shauna ends up where underneath girls almost always do, underneath. She falls for 0-4 overall.
Halfway to the back, Tiana Miles blows past Hannah and continues to the ring. Hannah stops, watches Tiana for a moment, then continues up the aisle.
With the referee’s encouragement, Shauna is on her hands and knees, getting her breath back. Tiana jumps the through the ropes, grabs Shauna by the hair and back of her singlet and serves the freshly-pinned blonde girl through the ropes to the floor.
SIERRA: “Come on, Tiana. What’re you doing?”
TIANA: “Cleaning up my ring. This is my time. Go get her out of here.”
The referee goes out to see to Shauna, who’s face down on the concrete, wracked with fresh pain.
Tiana demands a mic. The timekeeper throws her one as the crowd vomits boos from all sides.
Special Interview: Tiana Miles
TIANA: “You people can boo all you want. This is my time and I’m gonna take it.”
Wink McLean appears on the ring apron, mic in hand, tuxedo and hair in place.
MCLEAN: “Now wait just a minute, Tiana Miles. This is supposed to be an interview, not-”
TIANA: “McLean, if you take one step into this ring I’ll drop you.”
He freezes, midway through the ropes.
TIANA: “If you want something to do, go find Cassie Rae and get her answer to what I’m about to say.”
McLean drops back to the floor and starts to head up the aisle, but he catches sight of the referee helping Shauna and joins the effort.
TIANA: “Now that I’m back in CCW, it’s time to move on with my career. Because no matter what you think of me, I was a rising star in this company before I let Cassie Rae distract me from my goals. That’s the difference between me and Cassie. I fought my way out of that underneath locker room to become part of this company’s future. Cassie Rae has spent 10 years on her back, counting the lights. She’s a loser, she’ll always be a loser, just like this trashy bimbo they’re carrying out of here. Cassie Rae will never be the CCW Champion. I will…but not while Cassie Rae is part of this company.”
The crowd buzzes over the implications of that statement.
TIANA (looking right into the hard camera): “Cassie, CCW isn’t big enough for the both of us, and you have no future here. So, I challenge you to a match, a hardcore match. Loser. Leaves. CCW.”
In the trainer’s room…
Josie is on her back, crying, on one of the two exam beds. Cassie is at one side of the bed. Sarah, holding a cold compress to her temple, is on the other.
JOSIE (between sobs): “And just…the way she walked. The way she…looked at me. I… (she touches the two Stars of David on her stomach) I felt helpless…”
Cassie and Sarah exchange a teary look. Cassie lays her hand over Josie’s on the stars.
CASSIE: “Who are these for?”
JOSIE: “My grandparents. They were…they didn’t escape. (she presses both hands to her forehead) Oh god, Cassie, I’m so embarrassed.”
SARAH: “Embarrassed?”
CASSIE: “She thinks she let her family down.”
JOSIE (nodding): “And myself down. And you guys down. (she glances at Sarah) You wouldn’t’ve gotten hurt if I could’ve have put up a fucking fight.”
SARAH: “You didn’t let anyone down, least of all me.”
CASSIE: “She’s right, babe. Sometimes the outside world invades that ring and it’s too much. (she takes Josie’s hand in both of hers) You are strong, smart, compassionate; no one will ever take that away from you. And I know no one ever took those things from them.”
Cassie catches Sarah’s eye and nods her toward the door.
CASSIE: “Sarah’s gonna stay with you, OK?”
JOSIE: “Yeah.”
CASSIE: “OK. Love you, girl.”
JOSIE: “Love you too.”
Cassie joins Sarah at the door and keeps her voice between them.
CASSIE: “If she wants to talk more about her family, or what that piece of shit did to her, let her, but don’t ask about it. And keep her awake, we don’t know yet if she has a concussion.”
SARAH: “Got it.”
CASSIE: “And, hey, you did exactly what a referee is supposed to do out there. I’m proud of you.”
Sarah returns to Josie as Cassie opens the door to Wink McLean, his mic, and his cameraman.
MCLEAN: “Cassie Rae, we just need a moment.”
CASSIE (pulling the trainer’s room door closed behind her): “Josie Myer is resting comfortably, Wink, other than that I have nothing to say.”
She pushes past him and heads up the corridor.
MCLEAN: “Cassie, Tiana Miles just challenged you to a hardcore Loser Leaves CCW Match. Do you have a response?”
Cassie stops. Head down, smirking, hands on her hips, she shakes her head and turns back to McLean’s mic and camera.
CASSIE: “I accept.”
The muffled crowd reaction fills the hallway. Cassie turns away from McLean and walks right into Sunny, who’s headed to the ring for her match. She stares at Cassie, wide-eyed.
SUNNY: “You accept?”
In the arena…
Zehra is already in the ring for the next match. The sexy Turk stands flat-footed, hands on her hips, weight shifted to one side. No flow of sensuality. No snarling, wild-woman bravado. Zehra just stands in her corner, waiting.
The Tale of the Tape
Zehra is 25, 5’6”, 130lbs, with dark brown hair and green eyes. She wrestles barefoot in a beaded black bra top and black harem pants. An underneath girl, she’s 0-7. Underneath girl Sunny Austin is 24, 5’11”, 140lbs, with blonde hair and blue eyes. Her current record is 5-13. She wrestles barefoot in an orange-and-white bikini.
Sunny, face red, eyes teary, walks down the unlit aisle, ignoring the whistles and proposals she gets from fans close enough to see her.
She climbs into the ring — the lights bathing her lithe, lean, bikini body, making her glow — and stands in her corner, much the same as Zehra, as the full crowd welcomes her with cheers and sexual harassment.
Jimmy Swift and referee Jessie Motley consider both wrestlers and exchange a quizzical look. Swift shrugs, then delivers the flat, underneath intro.
The referee calls for the bell.
Sunny Austin vs. Zehra
With the two most overtly sexual, sensual women in CCW wrestling each other one-on-one for the first time, this should be a wild, drooling dream for the crowd, one element in particular. But even they can sense the lack of concentration and degree of distraction from both wrestlers as they circle, listless, for long enough to draw a few boos.
Zehra throws a few clumsy swipes with her nails. Sunny dodges the first two easily, but the third one glances off her cheek and cuts her. She wipes her fingertips over her cheek and stares at the little smear of blood on them.
Toes rigid, Sunny lances her foot into Zehra’s semi-soft stomach, bulging the Turk’s eyes and doubling her up.
Sunny whips Zehra across the ring by two handfuls of her wild hair. Zehra lands flat on her belly, groaning, as the crowd cheers for Sunny to press her advantage. She does, pulling Zehra up, shoving her backward into the corner. Using the top rope for leverage, Sunny drives a series of kicks to Zehra’s midsection, then uses her long, bare foot to choke the gasping dancer girl.
The referee admonishes Sunny and starts the DQ count. Sunny pulls Zehra from the corner by the wrist and shoots her into the ropes, leveling her on the rebound with a spinning reverse kick.
Zehra writhes on the mat. She gets to her side, up on one elbow. One fist clenched, pumping, she tries to recover, psyche herself up.
Her back arched, her breasts pushed out, Sunny runs her hands through her blonde mane, shaking it out. The revived crowd behind her, she struts across the ring, hips swiveling, and hauls Zehra to her feet…
…but the snarling Turk throws everything she’s got left into a desperate kick and her foot lands square on Sunny’s navel. Crying out, Zehra shoves Sunny toward the ropes…
…but with the grace and confidence of a prima ballerina, Sunny reverses the whip, sets herself, and turns the rebounding Zerha over in a tight spinning powerslam.
The helpless Turk jackknifes up, eyes and mouth wide open, then flops out spread-eagle on the canvas, eyes closed, her entire body defeated, surrendered to Sunny.
Bouncing back to her feet, Sunny plants one of them on the side of Zehra’s face and strikes a cheesecake pose, her head back.
Zehra offers nothing but an anguished moan as referee Jessie Motley counts her shoulders down and calls for the bell at 1:53.
Sunny picks up her second-ever singles win in decisive fashion. She improves to 6-13. Zehra remains winless at 0-8.
Sunny twists the ball of her foot against Zehra’s cheek, then gives the crowd another sexy pose as the referee, shaking her head, raises Sunny’s hand.
MOTLEY: “Not what I’d expect from you.”
SUNNY (fire in her eyes): “Let someone else get humiliated out here for once. I’m fucking sick of it.”
In the underneath locker room…
Shauna, still in her gear, is lying on her back, ankles cross, hands on her stomach, on the long bench away from the lockers.
Cassie, Melora, Tiffany, Jessica, and Teresa — in a bra and jeans, her ribs freshly wrapped — watch the monitor, where Sunny stands in another hot-girl pose with her toes pressed to the defeated Zehra’s chest.
TIFFANY: “Damn, Sunny put that skanky bitch…away! That’s awesome.”
Teresa and Jessica exchange a glance.
TERESA: “I wouldn’t be too sure of that.”
MELORA: “Love to see Sunny win another one but…what’s she doin’ posing like that, Cass?”
CASSIE (staring at the screen): “She’s telling me how angry she is.”
At the Sideshow Stage…
Outlaw Annie Hook, The Cowgirl Sisters flanking her, stands with Wink McLean in front of the new well-lit CCW backdrop set up for interviews.
MCLEAN: “Annie Hook, last week CCW Champion Betty Magnum challenged you to choose the stipulation for another title match, vowing to beat you in anything you pick. Do you have a decision?”
HOOK: “First of all, it’s Outlaw Annie Hook to you, beanpole, and this here is my posse. (She puts her arms around the giggling Cowgirls’ waists) In fact, that’s what you can call us from now on, The Posse.
“Now, (she grabs the mic from McLean and shoves him out of the shot) as for you, Betty Magnum. I want a match where I can keep an eye on you. I want a match where you can’t get away from me. I want a steel-cage match, pinfall or submission only, no cheap escapes.
“Now let’s get out of this dump, pards, we did what we came to do.”
Hook drops the mic and turns to leave, Cowgirls in tow.
McLean recovers the mic, smooths his hair.
MCLEAN: “That’s an amazing revelation from The Outlaw, a steel cage match, but Annie Hook, please, what do you mean leave? Your opponents for tonight’s main event — Betty Magnum and Scarlett Jackson — and your partner, Anna Konda, are already in the ring. They’re waiting for you.”
The Outlaw steps away from the Cowgirls and into McLean’s face.
HOOK: “I’ve done all I came here to do tonight. I’ll see Betty Magnum in the cage, not before, and Snifflin’ Scarlett Jackson is beneath me. As for the snake lady, well (she spits tobacco juice on McLean’s pristine white shirt) where I come from, snakes hunt alone.”
The Posse walks off, cackling as McLean looks at the stain on his shirt like it’s a gunshot wound.
In the underneath locker room…
Sunny sits in front of her open locker, elbows on her knees. Cassie stands behind her, arms crossed. No one else is in the room.
On the monitor, Anna Konda tells referee Jack Blake to ring the bell, agreeing to what is now a main-event Handicap Match.
CASSIE: “Will you please just talk to me?”
Sunny takes her bikini top off, drops it in her bag.
CASSIE: “I know you’re angry. I know what I did wrong. But it’s done now, can we please talk about it?”
Sunny stands, peels out of her bikini bottom, and drops it in her bag. She reaches into her locker.
CASSIE (risking a smile): “You know you’re not making this any easier, standing there naked.”
SUNNY: “Then turn around. Or go the fuck home. (slams her locker closed) I don’t want you looking at me right now.”
Sunny sets about to put on the clothes she took from her locker. Cassie, tearing up, risks a step closer.
CASSIE: “Please don’t do this. Please? Beautiful girl…”
SUNNY: “Don’t call me that. (buttons up the bell-bottom hip-huggers she’s put on) You can’t just call me that and make me do you want all the time.”
CASSIE: “That’s not what I’m doing.”
SUNNY (bra on): “It’s totally what you’re doing and I’m sick of it. You make me feel like such an airhead.”
CASSIE (wipes a tear away): “Please don’t say these things. You know how much I love you. How much you matter to m-”
Sunny turns to face Cassie, tying the white dress shirt she’s put on off at her breasts. This is the first time we’ve ever seen Sunny in anything but her orange-and-white bikini. She plants her hands on her hips, face red, eyes wet.
SUNNY: “What if you lose?”
CASSIE: “I…I would still-”
SUNNY: “What if she breaks your legs? Or your back? (crying now) What if she fucking kills you? What am I supposed to do then? Huh?”
CASSIE: “Sun, I really don’t think it’d come to th-”
SUNNY: “No, no. You’re the brilliant one, right? Think it out. If Tiana — who kidnapped me, carved her fucking initials into Jessica’s and Chloe’s guts, and wanted to rape you in the ring — decides to use this match to kill you instead? (she steps over the bench) What do I do then?”
In the monitor, Scarlett superkicks Anna Konda, who stumbles straight into Betty’s belly-to-belly suplex finisher. Betty kneels on Konda’s chest and stomach and throws up a double-bicep pose for the dominant pin.
Across the room, Cassie, arms folded, shaking, gives a little shrug.
CASSIE: “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you first but… (she stares at the floor between Sunny’s feet) I don’t know another way out of this.”
SUNNY: “You fucking quit. Idiot. And we find someplace else to wrestle.”
Sunny grabs her bag and leaves.
Cassie sits on the bench and picks up one of the worn, spare sandals Sunny left behind. She turns it over in her hands, presses her palm to the inside of it, then lets it slip out of her hand and cries.
Fade Out
