"Good evening, folks. Gillian Lowell here with you, giving you the latest recap on FAWN Week in Review. And from the moment it was announced, this match had all the makings of an instant classic. In one corner, we have Cassie Hopkins, the last woman to hold the Battling Ring Angels World title, and currently a champion in Europe. However, her early days in FAWN have been a bit rough. Of course, Cassie hasn't attempted to start her life in FAWN on a diet of jobbers. Oh no. In her first match, she took on none other than the Killer Imp, Chrissy Daniel--already the reigning tag team champion when they met, now a two-time FAWN World champion, and perhaps more than anyone else the personification of what FAWN is all about. And while Cassie gave her a fight, particularly in the early going, eventually the Imp took Hopkins to school in the ways of FAWN.

"Her next opponent wasn't much of a step down the ladder: Ivy Armstrong, the woman the Imp beat to become World Champion and a southern hellcat hell-bent on bouncing back. And, to make matters worse for the blonde Brit, she was facing Ivy in her home state. Again, Cassie came up short, but showed the 'Bama Brawler that she could hang with her, and therefore hang with the best FAWN has to offer.

"And still, things get no easier for Hopkins. Her next opponent? Anciline de Cyr, the former Television champion and one of the most dominant forces in FAWN history, seemingly almost unbeatable until the stunning upset by Juliet Bloodwind. And you know what that means? Like Ivy before her, Anciline was likely to be intent on using Cassie to send a message: that her loss to Bloodwind was indeed a fluke, and one that she would soon avenge.

"Let's go to the tape."

We pick up the action before the bell, as Cassie slips out of her warm-up jacket, and turns to place it on the apron... and in so doing turns her back on Anciline de Cyr. Perhaps she thought the Frenchwoman would be so arrogant as to not deem her worthy of a sneak attack. Perhaps it was merely carelessness. But either way, it was a mistake by the young Brit. Seeing the opening, de Cyr charges across the ring, driving a double axe-handle blow between Cassie's shoulder blades. With a groan, the blonde Brit's body jerks forward into the corner... and Anciline needs no further invitation.

Grabbing a dual handful of Hopkins' hair, de Cyr begins to drive Cassie's forehead down into the top turnbuckle, again and again and again. Despite the crowd's having little love for the aristocrat, they give the Pavlovian response, picking up the count on the fifth blow, and following it through all the way to the tenth and final smash. When de Cyr pulls Cassie's head back the final time, she roughly spins the Brit away from the corner, Cassie's legs visibly buckling already. Wasting no time, Anciline shoves Cassie's head under her arm and sprints forward, driving her foe's face into the mat with a running bulldog.

With Hopkins splayed on her belly, de Cyr takes her time in rolling the dazed Brit onto her back, before placing a hand atop Cassie's ample, heaving chest.

ONE...

It takes the disoriented Brit's mind a moment to process exactly what's happening.

TWO...

Cassie shoots a shoulder off the mat.

"I am pleased to see you have more spirit than your countrywoman," Anciline sneers down as a woozy Cassie pushes herself up onto her elbows. "It'll make destroying you all the sweeter, vache."

Fast forward...

A few minutes later, and the aristocrat still has matters well in hand, having her adversary ensnared in an excruciating abdominal stretch. Cassie groans as her abdominal muscles burn under de Cyr's torturous ministrations.

But then, Anciline does something that surprises some of the crowd, and catches Cassie firmly unaware. With a free hand, Anciline runs her hand lightly down Cassie's extended belly, drawing a soft gasp from the Brit... and a louder one, when de Cyr's hand disappears within the Brit's biker shorts.

Cassie's whole body stiffens, a moan catching in her throat as Anciline's fingers find their intended destination. At this, the Frenchwoman's lips curl into a most satisfied smile. "Chrissy told me this was the way to beat you. For all her..." de Cyr searches for the right word... "excentricites, it appears in this instance she understood you only too well."

The sound of Chrissy's name brought a growl from Cassie, and brought a wave of adrenaline that allowed her to break free from de Cyr's stretch with an improvised hiptoss. But as Anciline hit the mat, Cassie could only stagger back toward the ropes, grimacing as she tried to will away the pain from her stomach and the other sensations from below the belt.

More stunned by the blonde's escape than damaged, de Cyr is back to her feet quickly. Stalk toward Cassie, Anciline unloads with an echoing knife edged chop that draws a loud gasp from Hopkins, and a louder "Whoo!" from the crowd. Taking the Brit by the left wrist, de Cyr whips her toward the opposite ropes.

But Hopkins puts on the breaks, reversing the whip and sending the Frenchwoman into the ropes. Caught off guard a second time, Anciline barrels back at her opponent at full speed. Cassie scoops her off her feet, and then deposits her fellow blonde across an outstretched knee with a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker, de Cyr's sudden scream as the joint drives into her spine bringing a smile to the Brit's face for the first time in the match.

Cassie shoves the aristocrat off her knee, allowing Anciline to roll first onto her stomach, and then onto her side, one arm reaching comfortingly for the small of her back. Not having a bit of that, Hopkins pushes that arm away, slithering herself behind her foe and snaking her legs around de Cyr's waist in a powerful bodyscissors.

Thinking quickly, Anciline tries to pry her elbows between her waist and Cassie's powerful thighs, but Hopkins is ready for that. Swiftly, she sits up behind her rival, slipping her arms up under Anciline's and securing a full nelson. In almost the same motion, Hopkins rocks backward, using her scissors and nelson to lift Anciline off the mat. Frantically, de Cyr shakes her head, pleading for... something.

Not to be put down, certainly. For if that was her wish, she certainly didn't seem all that appreciative when Cassie grants it, slamming the Frenchwoman back down to the canvas, her backside taking the brunt of the impact.

Fast forward...

We come back to a test of wills, both Cassie and Anciline having their arms wrapped around the other's waist in a dual of bearhugs. For several moments, neither seems to have the advantage, Brit and Frenchwoman moaning and groaning as their arms tried to squeeze the life out of each other. But finally, one woman's strength begins to fade, her arms relaxing from around the midsection of her rival.

Sensing her foe growing weaker, Cassie adds a heave to her next constriction, pulling Anciline off her feet, the aristocrat wrapping her legs loosely around Cassie's waist in an effort to ease the pressure. Another squeeze causes a puff of breath to grudgingly flow through de Cyr's lips, the French blonde's head slumping against Cassie's shoulder.

Cassie then brought the bearhug to a less than merciful end, transitioning the hold into a ring-shaking spinebuster. The duo hit the mat with enough force to bounce Cassie off her opponent, Anciline's spread-eagled body twitching before falling still. The crowd on its feet, Cassie could feel her first victory in FAWN within her reach. All that was left was to finish her off.

With a handful of hair, Cassie pulls the aristocrat to her knees before shoving Anciline's head between her legs, clamping down on a standing headscissors. Then she wraps her arms around de Cyr's waist once more, only this time to hoist her rival into the air. With Anciline's wrecked body poised astride her shoulders, the blonde Brit allows herself to indulge in a bit of showboating. Pivoting on one heel, she spins around 180 degrees before finishing her Union Jacked powerbomb, driving de Cyr's body almost through the canvas, and allowing her own body to fold de Cyr's over in a matchbook pin.

ONE...

TWO...

THREE...

No bell.

Why wasn't there a bell?

Suddenly, Cassie becomes aware of the ref tapping her on the shoulder. Looking up, she sees the fingers of the Frenchwoman's right hand coiled in a death grip around the bottom rope, her knuckles white. To her credit, Hopkins doesn't allow her emotions to get the better of her. Instead, she jerks the broken blonde's body away from the ropes, and folds her over in a matchbook once more.

ONE...

TWO...

THRE... kickout!

This time, Hopkins can't contain herself, slapping the canvas with both hands in disbelief.

Fast forward...

Despite her earlier discouragement, Cassie has maintained the upper hand, now having her foe trapped in a figure four. Having learned from her earlier mistake, the pair are in the center of the ring, far, far away from the ropes. And de Cyr is in obvious agony, yet each time the official asks if she wants to submit, her response is one of arrogant defiance.

"You're not getting to the ropes, luv," Cassie tells her, twisting Anciline's ankle for emphasis. "Might as well give it up while you can still limp out of here tonight."

The Frenchwoman's snarl melded into a hiss of pain as Cassie gave her ankle another twist, this time counterclockwise. But despite the pain, Anciline fought back, attempting to roll the figure four over and reverse it. Cassie struggles, throwing all she has into keeping the aristocrat on her back. But one final push rolls the pair over, and it's Cassie who begins to scream.

In an impressive display of strength, de Cyr gets her arms under her and pushes her upper body off the mat, increasing the pressure now pouring into Cassie's legs. Though she no longer needed the safety of the ropes, Anciline drags herself closer to them, in the process dragging Hopkins with her on her belly, the rough canvas abrading her bosom.

Finally, the pair's legs are unwound, Cassie curling up and clutching a knee while Anciline gingerly pulls herself up along the ropes. Her first steps are uneasy, testing the damage done to her legs. But once she's satisfied they'll support her, she advances on the downed Brit, grabbing her by the hair and dragging her into the nearest corner.

Taking two handholds on Hopkins' sportsbra, de Cyr viciously rips the garment from her rival's body, the crowd's boos turning to appreciative ooohs for just a few moments. Slinging the top away, she pulls Cassie back to her feet by her now exposed boobs, the Brit facing away from de Cyr. Digging her nails into the soft flesh, Anciline delights in Cassie's shrieks as she pulls her further back into the corner. But her dual claws were more than an attack--they were also a distraction. As she mauls Cassie's breast, she climbs to a seated position on the top turnbuckle. Once pleased with her new perch, she releases the claws... only to wrap her arms around Cassie's head in a sleeperhold, lifting Hopkins airborne as de Cyr leans back.

Cassie's legs frantically pump and flail in front of her, feet desperately in search of the ground, her arms reaching behind her to pry the tightening noose free. With a bit more of a sense of duty than many FAWN officials, the ref intercedes, beginning the obligatory 5 count that de Cyr honors at the last moment.

Cassie drops back to her feet, and somehow manages to stay on them, though she stumbles away from the corner drunkenly. Hopping down behind her, de Cyr doesn't let her get too far away. Reaching out, she pulls the blonde back to her and up onto her shoulders. Holding the dazed blonde tight, Anciline begins to turn round and around and around, picking up speed as her airplane spin continues.

After several revolutions, de Cyr allows the Brit to slip off her shoulders, Anciline having to take a step to regain her own bearings as Cassie wobbles in front of her. Still, Anciline does recover first, and sends a quick knee between the Brit's legs. With a moan, Cassie doubles over, and in so doing assists in her own demise. In a heartbeat, de Cyr has the dizzied Brit's head wedged between her legs. In another, Cassie is lifted to the heavens.

And in one last heartbeat, Anciline's powerbomb plants her into the mat.

With the grace born of having successfully executed this move so many times before, de Cyr swiftly grapevines Cassie's legs, grabs her wrists, and lowers her ample bosom down across the blonde's nearly unconscious face. As soon as her air is cut off, Cassie's body begins to spasm and jerk, but de Cyr holds her down firmly in place.

And in mere moments, Cassie's valiant yet futile struggles cease.

Anciline glances up at the official, her expression silently granting him permission to begin his count.

ONE...

TWO...

THREE.

DING! DING! DING!

Back in the studio.

"Wow. Maybe another loss for Cassie Hopkins, but you can hardly fault the effort. With the exception of one mistake, she had de Cyr where few can claim to have had her before. But she did make that mistake, and alas, she paid the price for it. Fans, we'll have more after the break."

WINNER: Anciline de Cyr