Back together in the ring again. Cathy knows that even though there's a new Dennehy in her corner, this is a good fit. A great fit. Maybe better than Shan. Well. Maybe not that great. YET.

The styles are so similar, the burning desires to win at any cost, and the penchant for a little playful sexy, humiliation after the match is over. It's a given that this match would be a classic, like no other in FAWN. The experience Cathy possesses and Nat's bare knuckle brawling make these two a natural tag team.

"Penny for your thoughts," Cathy asks.

"I'd have to make change," Natalie replies, "for the blank slate my brain is now."

The younger woman is completely relaxed in a locker room recliner, her eyes closed as she visualizes the match.

"We're going to hurt them tonight. I can already feel little Shea's sweaty little mug nuzzled in between my... "

"Yeah. I know," Cathy interrupts. "I've been thinking about what little Chief Bloodynose's eyes are going to look like with my hands between her legs, squeezing her little love box like a ripe... "

A shout comes from outside the dressing room.

"FIVE MINUTES!"

Standing, Cathy walks to the mirror, lifting her scuffed white boots to the wooden bench, and bending at the waist to retie them. Satisfied, she runs her hand up her smooth, creamy white thigh to her firm butt. A baby blue thong with a wide waist band hugs her narrow hips. The thin strip of cloth dances down between her buns and up the other side barely covering the subject in front and doing nothing to conceal her backside.

Straightening, she again faces the mirror, adjusting her single ponytail, tightening it a little, and brushing back a few stands of jet black hair. Her baby blue sports bra barely covers her medium-sized breasts, but the peaks of her small nipples, pressing against the semi-see-through material, are clearly visible.

She looks over her shoulder at Natalie, standing behind her, tanned and 20 pound heavier. Her cousin's brown hair is worn shorter, but is still tied back in an identical pony tail. She wears a nearly identical outfit, except in black. Looking up and down her own frame, Natalie is pleased with her full bosom and tight abs.

Both girls slip a small piece of sand paper into the tape covering their wrists, something to add a little extra kick to those face rakes and eye gouges. A little tiger balm on boot laces makes those face rakes burn all the more.

There's a knock on the door.

"ONE MINUTE LADIES!"

Natalie turns and heads for the door, her butterflies forgotten. Cathy joins her, following her cousin, before catching up to her in the hallway and grabbing her hand. Knowing they won't be able to hear once outside, Cathy slows her cousin down as they approach the curtain.

"This could be a long road, but always remember what's at the end. Remember those belts hanging over the fireplace. I want them back. And I want them soon." Cathy says, as the two approach the black cloth draped across the opening to the arena floor.

"This is where we uncork the hate and pour it all out on these two whores. POUR IT ALL OUT," Cathy screams, as the din outside the curtain grows louder. "Don't hold anything back!"

The two girls step out into the well-lit arena. Cathy, still holding her younger cousin's hand, raises both girls' arms in a victory salute as the spotlight cascades upon them. The Dirty Dennehys are lit by the moving spotlight as they purposefully stride to the ring to face the night's opponents. Quickly climbing the apron, both girls step between the ropes, all business, ignoring the rain of boos from the Tempe crowd.

But quickly the catcalls turn to expectant cheers, as the denizens of the desert turn from ring to upper stage, waiting for an unparalleled former champion and their favorite daughter.

For those wondering whether this new team would enter under London or Bloodwind's musical banner, the answer proves to be... neither. However, those expecting Shea's music are closer to the mark, the PA system blasting an earlier Def Leppard staple: "Pour Some Sugar on Me". Within moments, the British Bombshell and Tempe's own Native American temptress emerge atop the ramp to a thunderous ovation for the hometown girl and her new partner.

Bloodwind struts down the steel toward the ring, the pigtailed Juliet slapping hands with the fans sitting along the ramp, her imitation deerskin string bikini and matching knee high boots leaving very little to the public's imagination, and receiving a rousing vocal endorsement. She gives a thumbs up to a fan holding aloft a sign that reads "TIME FOR SOME OTHER COWGIRLS TO GO DOWN HARD TO SOME 'SKINS!"

Shea follows alongside, all smiles, likewise slapping hands with the fans as she goes. 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. London grins as she catches sight of one particular sign: "NATALIE DENNEHY: FROM SUCKER PUNCH TO SUCKER."

At ringside, the pair makes a complete circuit around the ring, continuing to press the flesh with the assembled fans, ignoring a banner that shouts in huge red letters, 'Dirty Dennehys: Ride Cowgirl, RIDE!'.

Their lap completed, Shea and Juliet move quickly toward the ring, gracefully hopping onto the apron. With her back to the ropes, arms draped over the top rope, the nubile Native American gives a suggestive wiggle of her hips before leaning backward, flipping herself over the top rope and landing on her feet inside the ring. While the crowd reacts appreciatively to Bloodwind's exhibition, their volume only increases as London follows her partner's lead--right down to an uncharacteristic, but hardly unappealing hip wiggle of her own, the beautiful Brit grinning as she lands on her feet, the fan's endorsement overriding any other concerns.

The four women stare at each other, waiting for another to make the first move until, finally, the interloper Dennehys decide on their starter, Dirty Cathy ushering her cousin out of the ring. Shea and Juliet discuss and, to a twinge of disappointment from the crowd, it is London who remains, the veterans getting the initial calls in this battle. With the decisions made, the ref calls for the bell and the match is brought to order, accompanied with a roar from the Tempe throng.

Cathy, in her baby blue attire, and Shea, in her royal blue, circle around the ring at the Brit's lead. The raven-tressed beauty closes the gap as she does so, her eyes never leaving those of Shea.

"Enjoy this moment has-been cause it's the best one of this match for you," Cathy hisses. " We're gonna send a redcoat home with a red ass and maybe a few other rosy body parts. Remember Nat."

"I do," responds Shea. "And you're gonna remember this Alamo, now arencha."

Shea makes a feint at Dennehy's legs that has Cathy skipping backwards, but it's only a ruse. They begin their dance once more when Shea moves again, only to stop, Cathy psyched into another hop. Dennehy growls. Refusing to let the blonde bombshell dictate any longer, she charges London, but Shea acts as matador, skipping to the right, adding a little impetus to Cathy's rush with a push to her back and backside. Cathy hurtles into a neutral corner, more embarrassed than hurt, but when she turns to reacquire the Brit, Shea hits her chin with a picture-perfect dropkick that provides London first blood.

Cathy flops back into the buckles, her back striking hard against the lightly padded junctions. The flyweight bounces out of the corner, back arched, eyes clenched. Moving at a speed few could match, Shea scoots by Cathy and climbs the buckles from where the Dirty One had come. She scales to the top and hops atop a confused and searching Cathy. As London sits on Cathy's shoulders, Dennehy reaches up, trying to pull her down, but Shea obliges on her own, rolling forward and capturing Cathy in a small package, the final resting place of her Victory Roll.

The ref slides in quickly.

ONE

TWO

Cathy kicks out in time and springs to her feet, ready to tear the blonde a new one, but a clothesline attempt goes awry when Shea easily ducks the effort. London grabs Cathy's arm on the way by and flips herself perpendicular across the Texan's shoulders, then uses her bodyweight to pull Cathy backwards in a crucifix pin, again rolling her up, Cathy's legs bicycling in the air, her ivory ass pointing to the rafters.

ONE

TWO

Another furious kickout, this time with only a split second to spare, saves the Dennehys from an early dismissal. Again, both combatants are up in a flash. A red-faced Cathy lunges at Shea, but comes up empty once more, the Brit showing the agility she'd used to garner belts in any number of leagues throughout her illustrious career. Slipping behind Cathy, the tawny blonde wraps her arms around the midriff of the raven-haired beauty. Lifting and falling back, she flips Cathy over in a German suplex. She matchbooks Cathy's lithe body with a bridging pin, completing her former partner's Over and Done finisher. A shellshocked Cathy struggles vainly for...

ONE

TWO

Natalie drops a shoulder to Shea's outstretched tummy to break up the pinning combination and save her cousin from what appeared to be a third slap of the mat.

As Natalie is physically escorted back to her corner, Cathy and Shea make their feet, Dennehy wobbling on unsteady boots then falling to her ass when Shea cocks a hammer throw in her direction. As she scoots in reverse toward her corner, butt cheeks rubbing red against the chafing canvas, the Dirty One pleads for a timeout, clearly overwhelmed by Shea's lightning start.

Shea, however, is not in a giving mood. She closes the distance between them and reaches down to gather a handful of hair. It's then that Cathy's leg extends upward toward the Brit's crotch, only to be prevented from finding paydirt. Shea, having read her Dennehy playbook, is ready with the block and grabs the jet black ponytail. But Cathy is ready with an audible. With both hands, she snatches Shea's sportsbra at the cleft of London's delectable bosom. Falling back to the mat, she pulls Shea with her, hurling the blonde in a stumble over her body and into the Dennehy corner where Natalie awaits with a clock-cleaning right cross that spins Shea 180 degrees, gray-green eyes blinking wide.

Cathy, up to her knees, turns to her corner in time to find Shea returning. She wraps an arm around Shea's waist, rests her cheek on London's tacky tummy for a moment and swings a balled fist up into the Brit's cunny, her punch succeeding where her kick had failed. Shea groans in agony as she doubles over, Cathy leaning on her as she rises, arm pushing through the blonde's legs. With a grunt of effort, Cathy lifts the frozen Shea, resting her on her shoulder for a tick, before depositing her to the mat with a crisp slam.

"You had your fun, bitch," Cathy says, urging Shea to her belly with a kick to the ribs, the Brit curling and rolling away from the impact. "But you can't be greedy. Texans like to have their fun, too." Cath punctuates with an echoing "YEE-HAH".

She snatches Shea's right leg and twists away with a vicious ankle lock that elicits a harrowing squeal from the grounded blonde. London writhes and twists, trying to work her way free without success. She claws at the mat as a snarling Cathy continues to try and unscrew Shea's foot from her leg.

"NAWWWW GAWWWWD."

London grinds her way forward, only to look through slitted eyes at where she was headed, right toward a tawny brunette in black, Natalie urging her forward with the bending curl of an index finger. Cathy violently rotates the ankle in the opposite direction.

"NOOOOO," Shea screams, several heavy breaths and a growing whimper following behind.

"What? You don't like this?" Cathy asks, her voice dripping with condescension. "OK. Let's try something else."

With that, Cathy turns Shea to her back, entwines her legs with those of London, and falls into a locked and loaded Figure-4, the wily veteran securing the hold perfectly and directly in the middle of the ring. Shea's right ankle, already throbbing, is now joined in anguish by her knee and shin, as Dennehy threatens to snap, crackle and pop Shea onto injured reserve. Still, London shakes her head wildly, her hands, unable to pry Cathy free, now pulling at her own golden locks. Somehow, Shea gathers her composure and inches her way toward the saving strands. Even if it is toward Natalie and a double-team beatdown, anything was better than this torture and she had to do something to save her bread-and-butter, her legs.

After nearly a minute of anguish, Shea grasps the ropes and screams for release, only to have Natalie gleefully stomp her fingers, breaking the handhold and making her cousin's Figure-4 legal once more.

"PLEEEASE REF, SHE... "

Seeing no sympathy from the official, Shea falls flat against the mat, seemingly having lost hope. The ref slides in and slaps...

ONE

TWO

A grinning Cathy waits for the three-count, but Shea rolls her shoulders up AND MORE, spinning her body before a surprised Cathy can react in time. Quickly, the Figure-4 is reversed and it is Cathy who now swallows the pain emanating from her lower limbs.

"Ask HER ref," Shea screams, sending out a bluff that she wishes to remain in the status quo. Whether convinced to fold or not, Cathy works her legs free of Shea's. She rises slowly and tags Natalie in with a heavy, resounding slap that sends a shiver down Shea's spine.

Unfortunately for the ailing Brit, the contact didn't mean she was head to head with a woman who had recently left her unconscious on the mat. No, indeed, for Cathy had yet to leave and the cousins meant to make some hay. Together, they yank Shea to her feet with ease, London flying off the canvas. Each with an arm, the Dennehys toss London to the far ropes. The blonde bounds back at terminal velocity and the cousins lift and send Shea tumbling through the Tempe sky with a double backdrop, London finally falling to earth with a echoing thump that batters the beauty's spinal column. Her supple body arches in anguish, the crown of her head one end of the bow, the base of her spine, the other. Natalie can't pass up the opportunity to flatten Shea to the mat with a double axehandle to the Brit's inviting breadbasket, London's body collapsing with a guttural 'ooomph'.

With the ref slow to intervene, the duo pull their victim up for another go. Again, the dark blue flash barrels across the canvas. Locking opposite arms together, the Dennehys prepare to low bridge London with a double clothesline, but Shea ducks the move, puts on the brakes, spins, and hops into a double savate kick that simultaneously drives into the belly of both Dirty and Nasty. On instinct, she wraps an arm over the neck of both and clamps down before dropping into a double DDT that leaves Cathy spreadeagled and Natalie rolling on her side, cradling her head and neck with both palms. Not even checking for the results of her splendid counter, Shea crawls on all fours to her corner and tags in Juilet with a leap to her hand.

The crowd erupts as the hometown girl done good hits the ring, hopping over the top rope and snacking on Shea's leftovers. Waiting for a stumbling Natalie to turn to her, Juliet grabs the brunette by the wrists and falls into a perfect monkeyflip that sends the bigger Dennehy tumbling across the canvas, Natalie ending in a seated position, clearly shaken, blue eyes wide.

Again, Juliet holds her energy under control, waiting for Cathy to push up from all fours. When she does, Juliet collects her head from behind, races forward and jumps into the top rope, all the while, taking Cathy for a ride to the canvas with a springboard bulldog, the Dirty One's forehead impaled into the mat, her body spasming.

But a Juliet en fuego is far from done. She owes the Dennehys plenty and is ready for a little payback. She wrenches Cathy to wobbling feet with a handful of ponytail and proceeds on to a slowly rising Natalie, grasping her by her tail, as well. Motioning to a crowd gone insane, she nods knowingly as she pulls both heads back and slams the Texan's cocoanuts together, a sickening thud extracted from the impact. Cathy's eyes cross as she dramatically flops to the canvas face first. Natalie, apparently hardheaded, somehow remains upright, though her sparkling blue eyes are glazed. Juliet nods, apparently impressed with Nat's durability.

"Must not be anything in there to knock out of place," she adds cattily.

Grasping a wrist, she sends Natalie to the ropes and, on her return, flies into a spinning leg lariat that connects beautifully, flattening Natalie in nasty fashion, her legs flying out in front of her, head and shoulders slamming hard against the canvas. Quickly, Juliet is upon her foe once more, Natalie unable to offer any resistance as she is sent on another paid vacation to the ropes and back. This time, Juliet steps directly in front of Natalie, accepting Dennehy into her less than loving arms before stamping her dominance on this match with a mat-thumping spinebuster that leaves the lovely, tanned body of Natalie as putty in her hands. Juliet presses herself against Natalie in a full body pin, face to face, chest to chest, belly to belly.

ONE

TWO

Cathy, barely able to peel herself off the mat, somehow scrambles to the pin, and shoves Juliet off her cousin, preventing what seems a sure loss. Not taking kindly to the interruption, the Native American/French blend 'helps' Cathy to her feet and bullies her to the ropes, simply bodying up against the depleted Dennehy. When they reach the ropes, Juliet cocks an arm and sends the raven-haired Cathy over the top with a clothesline, Dennehy first tumbling onto the apron then careening off to the floor where she lands roughly on her hip. The throng roars its approval, people in the front rows throwing assorted trash in Cathy's direction.

Meanwhile, a glowing Tempe Temptress turns her attention back to the Dennehy that mattered. This was her crowd and it seemed her match. It was time to put away the new member of the scourge from Texas and pick up a huge rookie victory. Reaching down, Bloodwind pulls Natalie to her feet with a yank of her wrist, but this Dennehy was like any other, her hand flashing to Juliet's dark eyes, her digits raking the stunning dusky peepers of Bloodwind. Juliet howls in pain, but also in anger at her foolishness. Still, Natalie makes sure there's little time for reflection. She grabs Juliet by the wrists, places a boot into her golden-brown midriff and flips her over, keeping her handholds in place to somersault back atop Juliet. The brunette ends in a schoolgirl pin position over Juliet, but instead of concentrating on a three-count atop the squirming Bloodwind, she releases and brings her renowned fists into play, going bare fist on Juliet's scenic deerskin-covered rack and her beautiful soft exotic features. Juliet tries to defend herself, but the pounding quickly takes its toll, her head snapping from side to side, one breast jumping out of its confinement from a nasty uppercut, the crowd's booing silenced by the appearance.

"Cowgirls always beat the Indians in the end!" Natalie bellows, bringing back much of the heckling.

She ends the brutal assault by lifting a knee into Juliet's unprotected groin, eliciting a loud gasp from both Juliet and her fans. Bloodwind's attack finally thwarted, Natalie rises to her feet, bringing Juliet with her. With a second wind blowing hard and strong, the Nasty One whips the Native American beauty to the Dennehy corner, her golden-brown back crashing hard against the buckles. The vision in black then recedes to the opposite corner, blows Shea a mocking kiss, and rumbles across the mat, connecting with a full avalanche splash, her ample bosom giving Juliet a different brand of Dennehy milk, her body pressing Juliet into the meat of a pain-inducing sandwich.

Natalie peels away from the sagging Bloodwind, Juliet kept upright only by a blatant choke by Cathy. The crowd erupts in plaintive calls for the ref to step in, but Natalie has positioned between him and the assault. The brunette beauty pleads with the zebra to help adjust her black sports bra back into place. She dips slightly to increase the view of her impressive tanned cleavage and predictably the referee is captivated.

"It looks fine the way you have it, Miss Dennehy," the man notes with a grin, deaf to the gurgles of a writhing Juliet and even to the screams of the crowd, but the shouts from Shea finally break the spell and the man gets a glance over Natalie's shoulder. He runs to the corner, with Nat at his side, and begins the belated count, Juliet's face a deep rosy hue as Cathy releases at four, the Dirty One throwing her arms high in a mixture of penance and innocence.

The legal Dennehy then goes back to work on Arizona's wilting cactus flower, lifting her to toetips with a front bearhug and squeezing Juliet's bronzed belly with a bicep-flexing hug.

"Uhhhhh," Juliet groans, shaking her head softly, a sudden increase in the pressure bringing the indication of 'no' to a halt, Cathy clapping as Bloodwind lets loose with a breathy sob.

"I guess you're the little injun that COULDN'T," Cathy teases.

Meanwhile, Natalie spins in a 180, a rubbery Juliet's efforts to free herself becoming more ineffectual by the second. Nat drops to her backside, sending Juliet falling forward, her forehead crashing into the top buckle. Slowly, she melts into the buckles, the crowd mostly silenced, save a few Texans in support of the girls in control. Nonchalantly, Natalie rises, slaps her hands clean, wipes a boot on Juliet's deerskin-covered derriere and tags in her cousin.

Cathy twirls Juliet to face her and lands an echoing chop to the chest, a rosy welt erupting in a line just above Juliet's one-free, one-covered cleavage. Dennehy reloads and connects with another and another, the Tempe Temptress wincing with each resounding smack, the crowd 'wooing' despite its feelings for attacker and attacked. Feeling her iron grip on this contest growing, Cathy pulls Juliet out of the corner and sends her flying to the ropes, time to take this control out for a spin. Following to the middle of the ring, she steadies herself for Juliet's impending return. When the Native beauty does, Bloodwind tries to leapfrog over the somewhat diminutive Cathy, but the Dirty One intercepts, catching her in a brief bearhug that deftly drops into an over-the-knee backbreaker. Juliet moans loudly as her spine feels though it might be snapped in two and the terror and torture only grows exponentially as Cathy curls the digits in her right hand and holds them high, the Tempe faithful growing breathless in fear for their favorite.

Such was the force of nature that no woman in FAWN cared to experience... EVER. The Cat's Claw. Cathy pushes down on Juliet's neck with her left hand, Bloodwind's spine arching over her knee and, on the other side of the arc, Cathy's talons sneak under the faux deerskin of Juliet's bikini briefs. Immediately, the bronzed beauty falls into ear-splitting shrieks as the pale, raven-haired pro's pro rips into the soft tender flesh of Juliet's pussy, fingers flexing as they squeeze, tear, pinch, and poke, Bloodwind desperate to remove herself from Cathy's workspace, Dennehy creating another work of art in humiliation and pain. Juliet could feel her will instantly vanish as, for a moment, Cathy found her special place.

"I... I... ," she stammers.

But the finish AND Juliet would not come. Shea, having seen enough, races through the ropes and rescues her partner with a dropkick that sends both woman careening into a jumbled pile of arms and legs. Cathy emerges, mostly unscathed, as Shea is ushered back to her corner. Clearly unhappy at the interruption, Cathy stomps the mewling Juliet, whose hands have replaced Dennehy's within her bikini. Lifting the docile Bloodwind, Cathy sends her back to the familiar corner of the Texans, Juliet's chin meeting the extended boot of a waiting Natalie, the hometown girl dropping to the mat, as if shot. Cathy walks to the corner and stands atop Juliet's open breast, painfully flattening it against her breastbone as she tags in the bigger brunette of this destructive duo.

Perhaps surprisingly, Cathy slides out of the ring as Natalie enters, the Nasty One pulling Juliet to her feet with one hand and ripping off what remained of her top with the other, a sizable vocal minority now joining in admiration of Juliet's shapely tits and the Dennehy's unprincipled approach. Both lovers and haters watch in awe as Natalie leans Juliet into the corner and rips into the supple flesh, squeezing and twisting the malleable tissue, bringing shrieks and sobs from Juliet's tear-streaked face. Bloodwind pushes and slaps at Natalie until Cathy binds her limbs with dual armlocks, leaving Natalie to ravage at her pleasure, which she does with gleaming eyes and a bitten lip. Moving to Juliet's rosy quarter-sized nipples, she rubs the nubs to strict attention, eliciting a coo. She then grabs the nips and pulls them away from Juliet's bosom, causing a wild howl and a plea to 'STAAHHHP'.

Again, Shea can take no more. Despite the count of the ref, she rushes into break the mauling, for she could see in the welled eyes, a possible capitulation brewing. But as Cathy rails at the ref, pointing out Shea's charge, the Brit realizes she's been conned. The ref breaks his count and bars a frantic Shea from her mission, eventually lifting London off the ground and carrying the frenetic Brit back to her corner, all the while, Natalie continuing to extend the length of Juliet's nipples. Finally back in place, the ref resumes his count and at four the bitchy Navy brat releases her unique hold, Juliet slumping to her knees, crossing her arms in front of her as she massages her ravaged tits, Natalie and Cathy in full gloat.

Suddenly, and seemingly for no reason, the crowd begins to clap. Natalie and Cathy, looking out on the thousands of disappointed desert denizens, mockingly join them in the rhythmic ovation. Well, Natalie does until Juliet, perhaps inspired by the crowd, perhaps finding motivation from within, pulls one hand away from her tending long enough to send a forearm rocketing up between Dennehy's thighs, a meaty 'thump' and guttural 'GUHH' registering the brunette's displeasure, not to mention her rounded lips and tippy-toe stance. Cathy, for a moment, confused, reaches for a crawling Juliet but she is out of reach. A waddling Natalie turns and traces Juliet's trail, but she's a second late and more than a dollar short. Bloodwind tags a rested and ready Shea, the Brit already pouncing on the top turnbuckle when the slap of hands comes.

The hordes erupt as Shea launches into a startled, backpedaling brunette, London's legs encircling Natalie's noggin in a flying head scissors that sends the larger Dennehy off in a full flip, half-gainer, Natalie's supple body twisting and spinning to a stop, sweat from her ponytail fanning out in a wide arc over the audience. Natalie pushes to her feet, dizzy and still somewhat knock-kneed. She lifts her dukes, bidding Shea forward, but the blonde only responds in kind, holding high a couple balled fists of her own.

"Let's 'ave a go," Shea taunts.

London barely gets the words out before Dennehy lunges at her with a wild right that's sidestepped, a follow-up left glances off her shoulder as she leaps into a spinning leg lariat that gets every bit of the left side of Natalie's jaw. The brunette's own momentum and that provided by the blow send her to one knee, but a bicycle kick to the back of her skull sends her flat to the mat, arms and legs spread wide.

Shea doesn't let the imposed rest period last long, pulling the brunette to her feet with a snarl of determination. London buggywhips Natalie to the home team's corner, her back smashing hard against the unforgiving buckles. This time it's the Brit's turn to recede for a running start, stopping first to ridicule a concerned Cathy.

"Tell Shannen, I'll take care of 'er later," Shea says with a naughty grin.

With that, she bursts forward in a tumbling run that ends with a handspring elbow that pointedly finds Natalie's considerable assets and the sternum between, London's gymnastic version of a heart punch finding an unprotected home. Nat's blazing blue eyes cross slightly, but moreso when Juliet climbs the outside of the buckles and reaches from behind with a choke, pulling a flailing Dennehy up and off the mat, finally releasing her to a seat on the top buckle when the ref counts to four.

Instantly, Shea leaps to the middle buckle, tags Juliet, and tucks Natalie's head under her left arm. She motions in a wide circle with her right arm, bringing the capacity crowd to its feet and FAWN's first World Champion does not disappoint, sticking Dennehy to the canvas head-first with a DDT from the middle buckle. The brunette's body shudders and falls still as Shea bounces to her feet and turns to survey the damage.

"GUHH"

The blonde Brit's nubile form folds around a spearing shoulder from Cathy, the elder Dennehy hitting her with such force that the two women fly through the ropes, off the apron, and to the floor below. They disappear from Juliet's sightline as she tends to the Nasty member of the Dennehy clan, the Native American/French beauty deciding to continue what Shea had begun, instead of riding to her rescue.

Pulling a punchdrunk Natalie to her feet, Juliet deftly avoids what appears to be a sloppy attempt at a match-turning heartpunch, the blow aimed between Bloodwind's naked and still reddened breasts. Her sidestep sends the punch skidding harmlessly off a bicep. Kicking Natalie's right leg out from behind, Juliet catches the tumbling brunette as she falls backward, slipping her left arm around the front of Natalie's neck. From there, it is but a split-second flash, the native daughter ferociously driving the back of her foe's head into the canvas with a Scorpion Death Drop.

The crowd, already standing, roars as one, as they realize the appetizer has been served. Juliet, getting a running start, jumps over the tawny, flaccid form of her former tormentor. She leaps onto the middle rope and, without missing a beat, hops to the top turnbuckle, propelling herself back in a skyscraping moonsault that finds its mark across the open and yielding tummy of the hurting hellraiser. Natalie's body jackknifes spasmodically around Juliet's gleaming, golden-brown, topless frame then falls flat to the mat spreadeagled, her body and will apparently depleted. Still, Juliet hooks a leg to make sure.

ONE

TWO

THREE!

A joyous Juliet slaps the mat a fourth time in celebration, grinning gregariously at the grimacing ragdoll beneath her. Bloodwind tosses the limp leg away and scans the surroundings for her partner, still nowhere to be seen. Forgetting the conquered, she bolts upright and runs to the ropes. A wide smile breaks over her worried features. Looking down, nestled tightly against the apron is Shea in utter and complete control of Cathy, the raven-haired bitch captured and caterwauling within the Brit's London Bridge bow-and-arrow backbreaker submission. Shea is rolled into a ball, both knees pressing into Cathy's spine, the Brit's arms wrapped around Cathy's neck and thighs, pulling back on either side.

Shea looks at her partner expectantly and Juliet holds up her three middle fingers. The sign elicits a grunt of extra effort form the Sheffield native and within moments Cathy is tapping against the apron, pleading with the ref to release her. The word is all that Shea requires and she lets the Dirty One loose, Cathy sighing heavily after being freed, but grunting in pain as Shea pulls her ponytail and tosses her back in the ring for the formal announcement.

"YOUR WINNERS TONIGHT... JUUUUULIET BLOODWIND AND SHEA LUNNNNDUNNN."

The two hug as rookie victors, Bloodwind thoroughly overlooking her half-dressed state in this moment of jubilation. She picks Shea off the mat and the duo spin in place, first for a 180, then through to 360. Placing the Brit back to earth, their eyes turn to the softly stirring Natalie and the pissing and moaning Cathy, both still on the canvas. London quiets Cathy with a knee to the temple that drops the clan's ring leader to her side, pale body in baby blue jerking for a moment then falling still.

"Should we take a couple scalps," Shea asks with a twinkle. "They're tails are there for the taking."

Juliet shakes her head.

"No. I'll take those when I beat'em alone. They're Texans, so they ought to appreciate a little hogtie."

With that, Juliet slips her fingers under Natalie's sportsbra and peels the garment off her enemy, Shea doing likewise to her smaller, fair-skinned counterpart. The multitudes erupt in both delight at seeing the Dennehy's delectable hillocks, but also in anticipation of their embarrassment and fury. But as Juliet and Shea roll the defeated duo to their bellies, collect arms and legs, and tie them in a tight spandex knot, they will have to settle for the former... for the time being. The rookie pairing are kind enough to push the Dennehys to their sides, so as to leave their glistening topless torsos available for easy view.

Their job done, Juliet and Shea raise each other's arm in victory and acknowledge each corner of the arena as they let the fervor and ardor wash down upon them. Finally quenched, they leave a groggily stirring set of cousins awakening. They drop to the mat and slide to the floor, ready to begin celebrating with 13,000 of their closest friends.

WINNERS: Shea London & Juliet Bloodwind