Tammy DeVille: This is it, folks...tonight's main event. And what a match-up this promises to be!

Buck Ansome: Whooooooa, Nellie! Feed the dog, put the kids to bed, call the neighbors and Katie bar the door! This one is gonna be a barn burner!

Tammy: Buck, I don't think it's any exaggeration to say that this battle has the potential to the Match of the Year. The rivalry between Shea London and Chrissy Daniel has taken on epic proportions. Quite frankly, I think the argument can be made that every other great feud they've had prior to this...Chrissy with Jewel DeVine and Jeanette Lansdale, Shea with Portia VanBuren and Cathy Dennehy...have merely been prologue to tonight. This, ladies and gentlemen, is the big show!

Buck: You've got that right, Tamale! If FAWN didn't sanction this match, I think it would only be a matter of time before these two spitfires met in an alley somewhere to settle this!

Tammy: And tonight may just very well settle which of these two great past champions is the better wrestler. They will both have to call upon every ounce of skill, every shred of experience, and every iota of determination, because tonight's confrontation will only end when one of these two willful women verbally submits to the other.

Buck: And you've left out the best part, Tams...this is all gonna be in a steel cage! There'll be no escape for Shea tonight!

Tammy: I don't think that escape is what Shea's looking for, Buck. She wants to get her hands on Chrissy in the worst possible way.

Buck: And that's just how she'll do it...in the worst possible way. Everything about this match plays up to Chrissy's strengths! Shea London is all about speed and agility, but victory in this match is gonna come as a result of strength and endurance. All Chrissy has to do is withstand London's little leapfrogging until the strumpet tuckers herself out, and then...watch out! Shea is gonna be Chrissy's personal chew toy for an hour or so.

Tammy: As improbable as the very notion may seem, Buck, you may have a good point. Being locked in a cage, and not having a referee on hand to enforce the rules, can't possibly benefit Shea's standard strategy. But Shea London is too smart a competitor not to have taken that into account, so we can only assume that she must be planning to fight Chrissy with an entirely new strategy.

Buck: Aha! But we can also expect that Chrissy is smart enough to expect that, and she'll change her own strategy to deal with it! Of course, there's the chance that Shea will then change her strategy back to her original strategy, in which case Chrissy will have to change her changed strategy and...um, I'm confused.

Tammy: Can you tell us what goblet the Iocane Powder is in?

Buck: What?

Tammy: Shush...the wrestlers are being introduced.

The arena's speakers fall silent. But only for a moment. After the brief hesitation, the sound system booms back to life, posing one question to the amped crowd:

"Do you wanna get rocked?"

Def Leppard's "Let's Get Rocked" pumps over the PA, and Shea London strides from backstage to a thunderous roar from the crowd. The British Bombshell is all smiles, darting down to the ring, slapping hands with the fans as she does so. The gorgeous blonde wears a dark blue sports bra and a pair of matching bikini briefs, the Union Jack in all its glory across Shea's brassiere, no mutiny for her bounty; the remainder of her outfit, a pair of stylish, red wrestling boots. But for all of her apparent glee, there's an edge of anger to London that's palpable tonight.

The blond acknowledges a fan's sign that reads THE BRITISH LIONESS STALKS TONIGHT with a thumbs up, while pointedly ignoring another that says SHEA, YOU'RE GONNA GET LOCKED...THEN YOU'RE GONNA GET ROCKED!!! CHRISSY RULES!!!

Reaching the ring, Shea climbs the steps and enters the cage, slipping through the ropes and into the ring, bouncing energetically on the balls of her feet. As Shea settles into her corner, a hand running over the unyielding steel mesh of the cage, her mind continued to contemplate her upcoming opponent.

This was it.

This was the moment she had been longing for since that night in November when Chrissy had taken the FAWN championship from her...and humiliated her before the eyes of the world. Finally, she had the chance to avenge that loss, and to move one step closer to reclaiming the title she so badly wanted back.

Chrissy was as formidable a foe imaginable, that much was certain. But Shea had been studying for this match for over four months now. She knew she was ready for it.

Suddenly, the lights go low. Van Halen's "Beautiful Girls" erupts from the sound system, the unmistakable sound of Eddie Van Halen's signature guitar intro bursting into the arena. Precisely as the drum roll thunders in, a shower of sparks explodes from above, bathing the entire arena in momentarily blinding light.

Finally as the rest of the band joins in, two flares go off on either side of the entry way at the top of the aisle and Chrissy Daniel, the killer imp, bounces in wearing her red pleather string bikini top and matching hipster bikini briefs, cut low at the waist and even with the crotch.

Coming down the aisle, her cherubic face lights up the arena. The crowd is mixed in its reaction. How can such a cute and innocent looking girl have such a viscous reputation in the ring? She sprints down the rest of the aisle, her chest bouncing as she runs, the crowd buzzing as the curvaceous hellion makes her rowdy, energetic arrival.

Egging the crowd on with her sexy body crackling with energy, she makes her way to the ring. Taking the ring steps two at a time, she jumps through the cage door, her rounded derriere perfectly framed by the tight red pleather boy-cut bottoms. Standing in mid ring, she flips her thick lustrous hair back over her head, bouncing provocatively, shadowboxing a couple punches, chest bouncing satisfyingly.

Mounting the bottom rope in her corner, she puts her hand to her ear, encouraging the mixed reaction of boos, cheers and whistles. Smiling her playfully innocent smile, she hops down from the ropes. As the music dies down, she settles back into her corner, her body vibrant as she awaits for the start of the match, shaking her head enough to set the light sparkling off her luxurious hair, her chest straining within her bikini top.

This was one of those moments that made all the pain, all the injuries, worthwhile...the roar of the crowd, her body primed for action, and another victim facing her across the ring. The only thing better than this will be making Shea scream her surrender...and making the Brit her bitch afterwards.

Chrissy couldn't suppress a wicked smile at the thought.

The referee went over the rules...well, the rule...once more. The two wrestlers would be locked in the cage, and the match will not end until one of them verbally submits. No pinfalls, no tapouts, no disqualification's, no KO's...the final bell will not ring until one of them acknowledges the other as her master. Unspoken by the official, but well understood by all, is that the winner will be allowed to have her way with the loser afterwards. The thought of such impending degradation would spur both warriors on to win.

The ref steps out of the ring and locks the cage door behind him, then calls for the opening bell.

The battle was on!

The two women warily circle one another. Shea is smart enough to keep her distance, not letting her more powerful opponent get her hands on the Brit. But Chrissy is simply making herself too inviting a target, offering little in the way of defense as she slowly nears the blond. This obvious strategy to lure London into striking first is a tantalizing opportunity, and Shea has to fight the urge to seize it.

Finally, the Englishwoman decides to stop resisting the urge...yet she submits on her own terms. Rushing towards her opponent, Shea at the last instant feints, somersaults alongside Chrissy, and leg sweeps her from behind. Daniel lands on her posterior, but is almost instantly back up on her feet, displaying unexpected speed. And now she is close enough to lock up with the blond, whether London likes it or not.

The two begin straining against one another, and almost from the first moment, Daniel's superior physical strength begins to slowly push the blond backwards. Suddenly, Shea grabs Chrissy by the back of her hair and tugs, breaking the brunette's momentum. Shea resorting to a foul tactic first seems to loosen the reins on Chrissy, and the killer imp launches a fist that connects solidly with London's jaw, sending her staggering backwards.

Perhaps somewhat overconfidently, Chrissy strides towards Shea...and straight into a superkick to the face! The Brit's sculpted leg flashes like lightning, causing her foe to reel backwards. Slightly dazed, Daniel starts to charge her opponent, only to be met this time with a standing dropkick, one sole of the blonde's boot slamming into the brunette's chest, the other hammering into her face. Amazingly, Chrissy does not fall, but she is clearly stunned.

Again displaying her impressive agility, Shea leaps into the air, this time snaring her rival around the head with her legs, bringing both women down to the mat, where London applies a headscissors proper. Chrissy's feet kick as the vice-like pressure increases. Yet it is far too early in the match to drive the killer imp into submission, and London knows it. Before Daniel can mount any sort of countermove to escape, Shea's legs snap open, releasing her. The blond then springs to her feet and, before the brunette can rise, London drops her knee down, drilling her foe in the forehead.

Pulling Chrissy up by two handfuls of hair, Shea whips her into the corner, then begins slamming Daniel's face into the top turnbuckle. The crowd counts off with each blow, but just before ten is reached, Chrissy plants her foot on the middle turnbuckle, breaking the momentum. She then grabs Shea by her hair and returns the favor, slamming the Brit's face into the thinly padded buckle again and again and again.

This was Chrissy's kind of fight...nothing held back. London was a fool to agree to this, the brunette assured herself, and she was now going to demonstrate to her nemesis just how foolish she is.

Still holding London by her flaxen mane, Daniel now walks along the edge of the ring, raking Shea's face across the steel mesh, flesh scraped and cut by the cruel metal. Chrissy then Irish whips the blond across the length of the ring, the small of London's back colliding hard with the corner. Daniel charges at her seemingly helpless opponent, but is rewarded only with a boot to the face. The brunette staggers backwards while Shea climbs the corner to the top rope, then launches herself into the air, connecting with a missile dropkick that causes the fallen killer imp to bounce off the canvas twice from the impact.

Grabbing Chrissy's left arm, Shea expertly twists it until the brunette is contorting in pain on the mat. To better establish her leverage...and to humble Daniel a bit...London plants the bottom of her boot against the side of Chrissy's head, pinning her to the canvas as she continues to work the arm.

"Please don't give up yet," the blond coolly says. "I really want to break this first."

"I'm gonna fuckin' break every bone in your skank body!" the brunette hisses through clenched teeth.

Employing a strategy of shifting tactics, London suddenly releases her hold, then swiftly snares the brunette in a figure four leglock. Chrissy's hands beat the mat as the pressure mounts on her knee. Applied for too long and with too much force, the figure four could break bones, rend muscles, cripple a wrestler for life. Shea pours every bit of force she can muster into it, and she intends to apply it for as long as it takes.

But in this tactic, London has erred. Although she has her foe writhing in pain, she has also given Chrissy the opportunity to employ her raw strength. And in an incredible display of power and grit, the killer imp slowly turns her body on the canvas, until the hold is reversed, the pain now flowing into Shea's gam! For added measure, Daniel twists the blonde's ankle past the point of safe anatomical rotation, causing London to scream like a banshee. Instinctively, Shea begins to inch towards the ropes, slowing dragging herself and her tormentor to the cable. The blond grabs the bottom rope before realizing it's for naught.

"Gee, honeybunch," Chrissy taunts. "Too bad there's not a ref her to make me break the hold now. Putz!"

And yet, break it she does...not out of any respect to the spirit of the rules, but simply because the brunette wants to go on to bigger and badder torments. Having already started working on Shea's leg, Chrissy continues to target the limb. After all, London can't employ any of her fancy acrobatic moves with a broken ankle or tibia, can she now? Daniel alternates between twisting and yanking her foe's right leg and driving her knee and elbow into the vulnerable side of her knee...and for good measure, the killer imp lands a kick to the blonde's groin as well.

Watching this savage tableau, no spectator can escape wondering what is racing through Shea London's mind at this moment. Is she cursing herself for having agreed to this, for having stepped into a match tailor-made for the likes of Chrissy Daniel? Probably. But anyone who knows anything about Shea also knows that, even in the midst of agony, her mind is hard at work calculating her next move. She's trapped in this cage with Daniel, so she has to learn how to make this cage work for her.

First of all, however, she has to break free of Chrissy. She sees her opportunity as the brunette spins herself in order to apply a crippling leglock; London kicks her free leg, landing her foot on her rival's posterior and sending Daniel sailing forward to the mat. Grabbing the nearby ropes, the blond pulls herself up, but she is blatantly favoring her right leg...the killer imp clearly did damage.

Back on her feet as well, Chrissy charges at her foe with an animal's roar. Shea reaches her hands up and grabs the chain link behind her, using her arms to support her weight rather than her weakened leg as she uses her other foot to smash Daniel in the face once, twice, thrice. Despite the beating, Chrissy doggedly refuses to relent, and she continues to press forward...and she is met by more kicks, not only to the head, but also to the belly and breasts.

Finally, the brunette staggers backwards, hands to her head as she tries to shake the fog away. Before she can recover her wits, however, Shea has her by the hair, and she leads her back to the edge of the ring, where she slams Daniel's forehead into the steel mesh! Again and again, the sickening clang of bone on metal echoes, and Chrissy's face is soon reduced to a crimson mask of her own blood!

One final slam into the cage and a release of the hair causes the killer imp to tumble backwards, coming to a rest in a heap in the center of the ring. She barely moves at first, then slowly begins to force herself up, first to her hands and knees, and then unsteadily onto wobbly legs. She is blinded by blood and unable to see clearly...not that the haze in her brain would allow her to comprehend what is occurring even if she could see it.

All the while that Chrissy is getting up again, Shea has been climbing the cage. Ignoring the pain in her leg, she claws her way to the top, where she perches herself in the corner. In a standard cage match, simply climbing down the outside and touching the arena floor with her feet would gain her the victory, but in this match, that would accomplish nothing. If she is to win, she must break Chrissy Daniel's in spirit. And to do that, first she must break her in body.

The brunette staggers uncertainly, dazed and blinded. London waits for the perfect moment, and then, she launches herself into the air. Like the angel of death itself, a beautiful vision of destruction, she soars to a height some fifteen feet above the ring, and then she plummets like a stone. The sound of the impact as the two bodies collide is horrendous.

Both wrestlers lay on the canvas unmoving, only their labored breathing and pained moans indicating any life left within them. Shea's daredevil move was dangerous in the extreme...the kind of maneuver that can leave both women crippled. Or dead. But it also promises to devastate Daniel so badly, she can't possibly continue to fight. That is, if Shea manages to pull herself together first and take advantage of the situation.

She can't.

The brunette is the first to stir, and with a groan she manages to sit up. Her vision still obscured by blood, the killer imp decides that now is not the time for false modesty, and she tears her own halter from her chest, using the top to wipe her eyes clean. The crowd hoots its approval as Chrissy's impressive bounty is set free of their constraints, and the leering cheers seem to invigorate the brunette. "Perverts," she says to the crowd with a smile.

Still too stunned to rise, the brunette crawls over to her prone foe. But if the spectators are expecting some of the underhanded tactics which Daniel is infamous for, they are more than a little surprised when she lifts Shea up to a seated position and expertly applies a variation of the abdominal stretch!

London is jolted to her senses by the sudden burst of pain in her side as her torso is stretched. But the pain helps her focus, and her experienced mind goes to work on a means of escape. Frustratingly for the blond, however, is that escape seems impossible; displaying a grappling knowledge most...including Shea London...deemed her incapable of, Chrissy artfully maintains her leverage so that Shea cannot pull free, nor can she use her free arm to effectively counterstrike. All the Brit can do is sit there and suffer, and hope that an abdominal muscle doesn't tear from the pressure.

But no matter how much pride the killer imp might take in besting the high 'n mighty Shea London at her own grappling game, she still can't resist giving in to her impulses. With a devilish smile, she uses her free hand to reach over and pinches the blonde's nipple between her thumb and forefinger! London squeals from the sudden pain, which is music to her foe's ears. "My, but somebody's been getting hard. Tell me, Sheasy...are you getting off on this? Is that frigid little iron box of yours getting all wet from me kicking your bony ass?"

Chrissy cruelly laughs, but Shea's only response is to grab the brunette's wrist, pull her hand free of the Brit's aching breast, and to sink her teeth into Daniel's hand! The killer imp screams, perhaps as shocked by this most un-Londonlike act of viciousness as she is pained by it, and she instinctively breaks her abdominal stretch even as she jerks her hand free and rolls away to safety. Massaging her hand, Daniel takes note of the crescent moon of puncture marks on both the top and side of her hand, and the red rivulets forming there, and she snarls at her rival. "Bitch, you wanna fight dirty? Fine, I invented dirty!"

That's just what Shea wanted to hear. If she's going to win this fight, she can't have Daniel pulling any surprises...she's got to fight the way that London knows her best, and that's by breaking every rule. Even the most blatant cheating follows patterns, and patterns can be anticipated and prepared for. Chrissy Daniel suddenly employing complex grappling moves cannot be anticipated, cannot be prepared for, and thus the brunette has to be turned away from following that strategy. Shea's little love bite has apparently done that trick.

Of course, Chrissy Daniel in full fury and breaking the rules makes for just about the most dangerous woman in all of wrestling. Shea's hope that the brunette in her anger would make a mistake is just that...a hope, not a plan. And the killer imp quickly extinguishes that flicker of hope.

Despite her anger, Chrissy is in full possession of her wits, and she is careful not to make mistakes as she flings herself at the blond, forearm smashing her to her back. She then straddles the Brit, staring down at the face of her foe beneath her, and begins jackhammering her small, tight fist into London's already bruised and battered face. Yet in spite of the beating, Shea has the presence of mind to bring her legs up, suddenly snaring Daniel around the head and jerking her backwards. London uses the momentum to bring herself up to a seated position...which is precisely what Chrissy wants. Raising her right foot, the brunette propels it forward, the heel of her boot catching the blond flush in the chin and snapping her head back so violently, some feared the Englishwoman must have suffered a broken jaw.

Flopping backwards to the mat like a ragdoll, London is unable to rally herself to resist as Chrissy, now on her knees and looming over her, rolls the blond onto her stomach. Getting to her feet, the killer imp jumps into the air, bringing both knees down hard into Shea's spine, the full weight of the brunette behind them. The Brit's body jerks spasmodically in response.

Again rising to her feet, Chrissy lands a few stomps to her foe's tender back, then grabs Shea by her matted hair and hauls her roughly up. The next things anyone knows, the killer imp has her opponent locked into a bearhug!

Shea squirms as the steel bands that are Daniel's arms tighten ever more, applying relentless pressure not only to her still-sore ribs, but also to her aching back. In a show of raw power, Chrissy slowly lifts her victim up into the air, holding her aloft while still bearhugging her. Chrissy's body glistens with beads of sweat as she crushes her foe, a wide smile of self-satisfaction beaming from a cherubic face soiled with blood and perspiration.

"Let's see you jump and flip out of this one, pantywaist!" the brunette taunts. "Here's a tip: in a fight between strong and fast, bet on strong every damned time."

The only reply from the beleaguered blond is a pained mewl.

"Ready to give up now, you putz?" asks Daniel.

But the only answer is a hiss from the Brit...and then Shea's body goes slack. She has literally been squeezed into unconsciousness by Chrissy!

But a KO means nothing...if Shea doesn't say the magic words, this match is a draw.

Letting her rival drop to the mat, Chrissy goes to her knees next to the unmoving body of London. Placing her first and second fingers on the blonde's forehead, Daniel plays to the crowd by 'walking' her fingers down the Brit's face, over the bridge of her nose and spanning the chasm of her parted lips to her chin, then down her chest, until she comes to the center of her Union Jack halter. Looking over towards the announcer's table, she gives Buck Ansome a wink, and then she rips the brassiere off of Shea, leaving her topless. Chrissy's fingers then take a little walk about the blonde's right breast, circling her areola, before continuing their exploration southward, trekking down London's taut abs towards the waist band of her bikini briefs.

The crowd, not unexpectedly, gives a roar of approval for what it knows must come next.

The brunette slips her hand underneath Shea's panties, using her fingers to expertly manipulate her foe's womanhood; her other hand rather gently strokes London's right breast.

After nearly a minute of this, Shea suddenly stirs, a sigh of satisfaction passing between her lips as her back arches slightly. Then she becomes fully alert, and she realizes what is happening to her. With a gasp, she shoves Chrissy away and scampers to the far end of the cage. Daniel merely smiles and almost innocently asks, "Was it good for you, too?" Then, with more fake sincerity, she says, "Call me!"

Shea takes several moments to determine what is occurring. She was knocked out, obviously, but the referee is still outside of the ring, so she did not submit. And Daniel, in her own sick way, was getting her kicks while waking the blond up in order to continue the match.

She had been beaten by Chrissy before. She had been humiliated by her. And now, she was violated. There was murder in the blonde's eyes.

Calling upon reserves of strength that no one dared dream she still had, London springs to her feet and launches herself at her startled foe. Chrissy is taken by surprise, and she leaves herself wide open for a kick to the belly that knocks the air from her body.

The blond is a whirlwind of punishment as she kicks, stomps and punches away at her opponent; it's all Chrissy can do to use her arms to ward off at least some of the blows. Next, the Brit grabs Daniel by the calves and sends her flying with a slingshot monkey flip, the killer imp only coming to a halt when she slams face-first into the cage wall. Taking Chrissy by the ankles, she drags her back to the center of the ring, then rolls her over onto her back and delivers a sweeping kick to the side of her head. The blows leaves the brunette motionless, a trickle of spittle falling from the corner of her mouth.

Turning her head upwards, London again looks to the top of the cage. Slowly, forcing a body that is now rebelling against her, she begins to climb the steel mesh towards the top, where she will once again throw herself atop her prone rival...this time, hopefully, doing the necessary damage to Chrissy to force her to quit.

Yet Shea isn't the only one with reserves of strength, nor an indomitable will. Almost zombie-like, the brunette sits up, then drives herself to rise to her feet. Even as the blond makes her ascent up the cage, she is followed by Chrissy. As she nears the top, London is startled to find a hand grabbing her by the hair. Then the Brit's forehead is rammed into the top of the steel cage, and she plummets from her perch.

The killer imp couldn't have planned it more perfect if she tried: Shea lands directly on the top rope, the cable driving itself hard into her crotch. London lets loose with a sickening howl, then slowly falls off the rope to the canvas, her body curled into a fetal position as her hands desperately massage her throbbing groin.

The match is hers...Chrissy can feel it, the crowd knows it. London is done for, ripe for the plucking whenever the brunette decides. But first, she's gonna have a little fun....

Jumping down to the mat, Daniel grabs the blond from behind and hoists her up into the air, then brings her back down again into an atomic drop, Shea's already-mauled womanhood is subjected to further, sudden agony. The Brit's body leaps forward from the impact; she drops to her knees, and then falls over face-first like a felled redwood.

Kneeling at London's feet, Chrissy undoes the laces of the blonde's boots and removes them, then hurls them over the cage into the crowd, where the prizes are greedily sought by many. Next, she slides the Englishwoman's briefs over her butt and down her legs, removing them altogether. The brunette's intent is plain for all to see...she intends to not only break the blond in body, but also in spirit. A part of that will be to strip her, to rob her of every last raiment of her identity. As far as the killer imp is concerned, Shea London is about to cease to exist as an individual, to be replaced only by her plaything.

But first, she must hear those all-important words: Shea must verbally submit the match. For good measure, Chrissy decides, she'll also force London to call her "Mistress."

No one watching could quite relate what happened next...it happened all too fast. But as Chrissy lifted the blond up to subject her to a torture rack, intent on making her scream her surrender and beg for mercy, London suddenly sprang to life, wrapping her arms around Daniel's head and bringing her down with a DDT. Chrissy landed awkwardly, the impact seemingly taken more by her arm than her head. Initially, commentator Tammy DeVille expressed the opinion that this was a lucky break for the killer imp.

She was half right...it was a break.

Chrissy sat on the mat, cradling her left arm. She didn't need to look at the misshapen forearm to know what was wrong...the near-blinding pain told her it was a fracture. It's almost ironic...she could subject herself to all manner of abuse in a match, and walk away with little more than cuts and bruises. But a simple fall at a bad angle, and she snaps her bone like a candy cane.

She always said she could beat anyone with one hand tied behind her back. Now she had to prove it.

The brunette swooned for a moment, her vision going gray, bile rising to the back of her throat. She had subjected her body to so much tonight, and now her body was telling her ENOUGH. But it wasn't enough...she had to keep on fighting. HAD TO!!!

So did Shea. Every movement sent electric bursts of pain coursing throughout her body. Her right leg had gone from throbbing to numb, and she was having a hard time catching her breath; hopefully that was just hyperventilation, and not a collapsed lung. Somehow, she got herself to her feet, as did Chrissy.

As the two blood-rivals staggered towards one another, there was no longer anything majestic about them. Indeed, the only word that seems to apply is grotesque. They had inflicted pains upon each other that would have driven most other wrestlers into retreat long ago. But in the steel cage, there was no place left to go but to the bitter end.

Then, in the same moment, they both struck. Chrissy used her good hand to lock a crude crotch claw on the blond, her talons ravaging the Brit in a way only one woman could do to another.

Shea, meanwhile, threw away any last vestige of civility she had left, and she grasped Chrissy by the wrist of her broken arm, twisting the injured limb. Daniel's legs buckled and she moaned from the fresh pain, but she did not relinquish her clawhold. It had come down to this...two primitive animals trying to destroy each other.

Amazingly, the killer imp seemed to be blocking out the pain. At least, she seemed able to ignore much of it, second after second. Her clawhold was taking its toll on the Brit...if only the brunette could hold on a little it longer...!

But then some small, rational voice deep in her brain screamed for attention. Maybe she could ignore the pain, the voice told her, but at what cost? London was another twist away from turning a fracture into a lifetime injury. What good would be winning this match if she would be crippled, never able to wrestle again? Because as much as she wanted to beat London, winning her belt back was still of greater importance.

The voice told her what to do. Chrissy defied it, hurled profanities at it within her mind, but it didn't matter. The voice was in control now. The voice spoke.

"I give up."

The voice was raspy, choked with sobs, but it was without fear. She was not acknowledging Shea London as her superior, merely acknowledging that her own human frailty had gotten the better of her.

Both warriors released their holds and collapsed to the mat as if they were puppets whose strings had been cut. Neither woman had the power left to move; Shea most certainly was in no condition to debase Chrissy as she had sworn to do. Not that it mattered...her threats were mostly just psychological warfare; winning the match was the important thing, not indulging in sexual antics afterwards.

The fight was over. Buck: "Oh. My. God."

Tammy: "That was...that was...I-I'm sorry, ladies and gentlemen. I just can't find the words to describe what we have just witnessed. Cruel...savage...barbaric...these words all seem too tame."

Buck: "I'm...I can't talk. I'm sorry."

Tammy: "I think this is a good time for a message from our sponsors. We need to collect ourselves, the FAWN medical personnel need to remove the wrestlers from the ring, and I think we all need to digest what we have just witnessed. Two women have gone to the brink in their quest for glory tonight, and I don't know if FAWN...hell, if professional wrestling...will ever be the same again! We'll be right back."