Once more, the FAWN Arena is abuzz with energy from the capacity crowd. Ivy Belle Armstrong, LaKeisha Bates and Abby Hoffman had already worked the crowd into a fever pitch, but the grand finale was still minutes away, and no one in the crowd had left early. Numerous signs are clearly visible throughout the seats, including "I'M A PROUD MUNCLE MARK", "CHARM ME, IVY, CHARM ME", "I CAME TO SEE THE OTHER DANIEL", and "TONIGHT, KYLIE'S SLUMP WILL BE OVER AND DONE!" At ringside, Tammy DeVille is joined as usual by Buck Ansome.

Tammy: Well, wrestling fans, we still have one match left this evening.

Buck: We do?

Tammy: Um, Kylie versus Missy?

Buck: Silly rabbit. That's not a match. That's a sparring exhibition we're graciously allowing our fans to see. Kylie Sanders tonight will be a perfect illustration to the young people watching us at home!

Tammy: Considering what normally happens here in FAWN, hopefully NO young people are watching us at home.

Buck: (undeterred) We always tell people not to try this at home, and that the girls in FAWN are true professionals. Well, tonight, true professional Missy will show what happens when a hapless amateur like Kylie Sanders tries her hand at wrestling.

Tammy: Kylie Sanders is just as much a professional as Missy Daniel. Perhaps even more so. And she definitely has more wins than Missy in FAWN.

Buck: But what have you done for me lately?

Tammy: I'm guessing no one's done much of anything for you lately, Buck. If you know what I mean... and I think you do.

Buck: Well...

Suddenly, the lights go low. Metallica's "Enter Sandman" rumbles over the loudspeakers. Missy Daniel stomps into the arena, coming down the aisle like she is mad at the world. No smiles, no sexy shimmy. A very attractive blonde bomber, she wears a black pleather string bikini top and matching hipster briefs, cut low at the waist and almost even with the crotch. Black wristbands adorn her wrists and black boots with "MD" on the sides in interlocking letters complete the ensemble. Her straight blonde hair hanging over her shoulders and down her back, she strides up the ring steps, chest bouncing within her bikini top. She climbs through the ropes, an alabaster skinned well rounded blonde. Almost as though she is the antithesis of her sister's bubbly entrance, she is all business, settling back into her corner, awaiting the start of the match.

Tammy: Missy Daniel, certainly not as flashy or charismatic as her sister!

Missy: But just as tough, and just as brutal. Chrissy may be sidelined, but I'm certain Missy is going to seize this chance at the spotlight.

Tammy: Kylie will certainly have her hands full tonight. But I feel she'll be up to the task.

Buck: (singing, and badly) There she goes, there she goes down again!

The strains of 'There She Goes Again' by Sixpence None The Richer break through the darkness, a white pin spotlight breaking upon Iowa's Girl Next Door, Kylie Sanders. The diminutive Kylie - tousled, shoulder-length, cinnamon-hued hair bobbing as she bounds down the aisle - slaps hands with most anyone she can reach. A bubbling mixture of excitement and nervousness keeps her taut little body in constant motion. Sanders struts down the aisle in a body-hugging, black, cotton muscle shirt that leaves a healthy rim of her midriff showing; her little biceps shown with a grin and a pose, Kylie reveling in a pocket of her 'Corps'. Below, yellow-gold, satin boxing shorts curve to an end just beneath the taut roundness of her buttocks, the shiny softness clinging tightly.

Kylie disregards, as best she can, the taunts of several of the Beach Bully's backers, one carrying a placard showing a stripped and spread-eagled Kylie with the caption 'Missy's Beach Blanket'.

Instead, she moves onto a half-dozen of the 'Kylie Corps and dives into their loving embrace. Peeling herself out, she blows her fans a kiss and gives the gang a thumbs-up.

Kylie trots the rest of the way to the squared circle and, eschewing the steps, slides in under the bottom rope.

She hops in place, occasionally checking the tension of the ropes, her hazel eyes darting through the crowd and around the ring. She shadowboxes to burn off some excess nervous energy waiting for the inevitable fade of Six Pence.

No thinking about anything but Missy tonight. Anything less could be fatal. The blonde was as desperate for a win as she and had the advantage of every unscrupulous option.

Sanders wipes a drip of sweat off her elfin nose and steadies herself. This was a big one.

"C'mon, Ky. Time to stop the bleeding," she whispers to herself. "Let's go."

The bell sounds, bringing the two combatants out of their corners, circling each other. Missy's expression is one of anger and vengeance, Kylie's cautiousness as both seem content to wait for the other to make the first move. Finally, it's Kylie who lunges forward… or at least begins to. As Missy's body tenses in anticipation, Sanders pulls up, instead continue to circle her foe. Missy snarls in annoyance. "C'mon, you pussy," sneers the beach cat.

Kylie starts to lunge again, but as Missy prepares for the lock up, it again turns out to be another bluff. Enraged, Missy decides it's time to take matters into her own hands, the shorter but more stout blonde throwing herself at the Iowa girl.

Just as Kylie had hoped.

As Missy charges toward her, Kylie is able to easily duck under her sweeping arms. Coming up behind Daniel, Kylie pauses for the fraction of a second it takes Missy to rise back to her full diminutive height. Before Missy can turn around, though, Sanders leaves her feet, and from a standstill she nails Missy in the back of the head with a dropkick that sends Missy staggering.

She was still on her feet, though. Knowing she needs to fix that, Sanders shoots into the ropes, leaping into the air and twisting her body as she flies back at her turning foe. Kylie slams into Missy, chest to chest, with a cross body block that again staggers Daniel.

And again, it only staggers her. She remains upright. This time, however, she is cradling her opponent's body in her arms, Kylie unable to slip free or press an advantage. Turning on her heel, Missy pivots and drops to the mat, slamming Kylie into the canvas, and herself down upon her prey. Missy's body momentarily bounces off of Kylie's before again settling down atop hers, the Iowa girl letting loose a sharp exhale of breath.

She could've gone for the pin then, but instead, Daniel rises to her knees, pulling Sanders to all fours as she does so. Roughly, she shoves Kylie's head under her arm, clamping down with a flex that causes the cinnamon-hued brunette's arms to jerk away from her torso. That, in turn, opens Sanders' midsection; an opening that Missy finds irresistible. Balling her free hand into a fist, the blonde unloads with a punch to Sanders' yielding midsection.

"Oooooooph," moans the Iowa girl, again and again as Missy repeatedly drives her fist into Kylie's tummy. All the while, Missy is rising to her feet, Kylie in tow… only to drop back to the mat with a DDT.

As Missy remains seated beside her opponent, Kylie lies face down and spread-eagle, motionless save for the occasional twitch of her right leg, her gold boxing trunks (short to begin with) having ridden even further up her hips.

Missy just sits there for a long moment, drinking in the chorus of boos and jeers that greet her. This was how it was supposed to be, as it was supposed to have been all along. Missy, the irresistible force, feared and loathed by opponents and fans alike, with a helpless foe to do with exactly as she pleased.

"Everyone thinks Chrissy's so bad," Missy whispers to herself. "It's time to show everyone just who taught short stuff everything she knows."

Getting to her feet, she guides Kylie up by her hair, backing the dazed coed into the nearest corner. Then, taking her wrist, Missy sends Sanders for a ride, Kylie slamming back first into the opposite corner, her impact resulting in an explosive spray of perspiration from her battered body.

Missy admires her handiwork for a moment, and then takes off, sprinting across the ring into the corner. With a head of steam, Missy propels herself into the air, on a collision course with Sanders that would no doubt leave Kylie a pancake...

... if Kylie hadn't moved out of the way.

The Kylie Corps erupt as Kylie, at the last second, rolls out of the corner. With Sanders gone, nothing shields Missy's chest and stomach from the impact with the turnbuckles. With a loud moans, Missy stumbles away from the corner. Kylie wastes no time, dropping to her knees just behind and off to the side of her foe. Then, slipping an arm between Missy's legs, she pulls the already off balance beach fighter off her feet, rolling her up for a pin.

One... Two... No.

Though hurting, Missy still possessed enough raw strength to propel Sanders away from her, and into the ropes. As Kylie tumbled into the ropes, though, a thought occurred to her.

"When life gives you lemons..."

Instead of trying to stop her momentum, Kylie embraces this trajectory. Bouncing off the ropes, she is propelled back at her opponent. Kylie finishes the short trip back to Missy by delivering a kneedrop squarely to Missy's forehead. Daniel's limbs convulse for a second, and then fall still.

Springing to her feet with a second wind born of adrenaline, Kylie reaches down to bring the blonde up with her. Securing a headlock on the beach fighter, Kylie darts across the ring before planting Missy face first into the canvas with a bulldog.

Quickly, Kylie rolls Missy over onto her back, noticing the glazed expression in her half lidded eyes. She was almost done. And her slump was almost over. But Kylie knew she had to finish the deal. Again swiftly bouncing to her feet, Sanders slips through the ropes and scales the turnbuckles.

Her movements are practiced and confident, lacking in the tentative nature of her earlier experimentations with her mentor's aerial arsenal. Reaching the top, she barely has to pause to brace herself before launching into the air, pumping her body in flight, and crashing down across Missy's breadbasket with an almost textbook frogsplash!

Kylie bounces off her prey, for a moment clutching her own ribs. But only for a moment. Dragging herself back toward Missy Daniel, the Iowa girl drapes herself across her foe, hooking her leg.

One... Two... Thre...

Damn it, Kylie groaned mentally as Missy was able to raise a shoulder at the last second. Had that one moment's hesitation been enough to cost her the win? She slapped the canvas herself three times, but the ref remains unswayed.

Missy was still in the match.

Shaking her head in frustration, Kylie turns her attention back to Missy... and directly into an eye gouge from the beach fighter. Immediately, Kylie's hands flew to her face, Sanders shrieking in pain as Missy's nails blinded her.

Unable to see, she is unable to react as Missy's arms wrap around her, pulling her off her feet and into a forceful bearhug. "Unnnggghhh!" Sanders moans, Missy's powerful arms holding her in a far less than tender embrace. Though the slightly taller girl, Kylie found herself unable to find the mat with her feet. Instead, she wrapped her legs around Missy's waist for support. A further constriction of Missy's pythons, though, caused her gams to loosen.

As Kylie's sight begins to return from the eye gouge, Sanders finds her vision a little more spotty than usual, pinpricks of light erupting all around Missy's maliciously grinning face. One further pulse causes Kylie to throw her head back in anguish.

"Don't worry," missy taunts. "I'll tuck you in."

This time, Kylie threw her head forward, slamming her noggin into Missy's. Stunned by this turn of events, Missy's arms release their grip, allowing Kylie to drop back to the mat.

But even still, Missy is not done. Before Kylie can recover enough breath to react, Daniel shoots forward an elbow that catches the coed in the throat. Gagging, Sanders clutches her throat as Missy scoops her up for a slam...

Through the haze in her mind, one thought was clear to Kylie: it was now or never. It wasn't just this match that was in the balance, but quite possibly her career. She needed to do something to right both ships, and she needed to do it NOW.

As Missy held her, Kylie shifts her weight, the beach fighter unable to compensate before Kylie has slipped out the back door, Sanders dropping off of Missy's shoulder and landing on her feet behind the blonde. Then, wrapping her arms around Missy's waist, she pulled Missy back, off her feet and throwing her overhead.

All that was left was the last stage of her Over and Done, Kylie rolling the German suplex into a matchbook pin.

One! Two! Three!

This time, Missy's kickout came a second too late. As the bell sounded, Kylie shot through the ropes. Partially, she was sent there by Missy's kickout, but mostly, it was her exuberance at this hard fought victory that sent her on her way. Hopping off the apron, Kylie immediately tumbled into the loving arms of a large contingent of the Kylie Corps, her fans slapping her back, tussling her hair.

It was almost as if Kylie's win had meant more to them than it did to her. But as she soaks up the adoration and support, Kylie knows better.

The coed beams, knowing full well what had just happened.