KaHLaN vs. Vladimir Strife (TLC)

[Vladimir Strife]

((Contract: ldwa.proboards.com/index.cgi?action=display&board=contracts&thread=53 ))

As the fans cheer on the action they've seen on this premiere showing of MND, Belle Blair takes her place in the squared circle once more. She holds the microphone in front of her, the audience coming to a hush as they prepare for the next event of the night, excitement running high through the crowd. The young blonde begins to speak, the sweet and innocent voice coming through the cheap speaker system to make it audible to everyone.

"Ladies and Gentlemen... the next match is a Tables, Ladders and Chairs match scheduled for one fall and is tonight's main event."

The techno music begins to play ominously, signaling the arrival of the match's first competitor. A scream comes blaring through it at full blast, unnerving some of the patrons as the drums and guitar kick in. Vladimir Strife steps out of the back, looking throughout the gymnasium at the fans, donning his signature long black trenchcoat, his face in a scowl of disgust. As he walks to the corner of the ring and up the steel steps, the crowd boos, Belle announcing his arrival.

"Introducing first.. from Sighisoara, Romania.. weighing in at 269 pounds and standing at six feet tall... he is the Hardcore King, VLADIMIR STRIFE!!!"

Vlad makes a slow pace towards the announcer, holding his hand out and relieving her of the microphone. She shrugs and steps back, letting him do as he wants, remembering the few things she's heard about the tyrannical legend. Strife raises the mic to his lips and looks out to the crowd, his eyes scanning the bleachers as though there were something in particular he was looking for.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN OF LDWA...."

The fans begin to applaud and cheer at the small bit of recognition for them.

"FFFFFFFFFFFUCK YOU!!"

The cheers turn to boo's quickly, offended by the blatant disrespect as Strife lets out a chuckle to their protests.

"Tonight... for the first time, for the last time, you ingrates bare witness to the greatest fucking wrestler in the world! Tonight your hard earned money has been spent wisely, because you California faggots has used it to get your fat asses crammed in THESE VERY BLEACHERS to watch someone greater than you could EVER be mutilate a young woman beyond recognition."

The crowd continues to jeer, Vlad shaking his head and taking joy in their distaste.

"You see... I love this. Despite what you may think, there's nowhere in this world I'd rather be right now than RIGHT HERE, surrounded by all you commoner's. From the anorexic beanstalks to the Goodyear blimps... From California's prissy men to their bearded ladies... from the ugly people to Belle Blair. Despite being in this mortuary of common decency and brain cells, I'm on top of the world! I feel like most of you must when you get that final hole punched towards a free burrito... or when you finally get a question right on Jeopardy. I mean, sure, it's teen week and it was a $200 question in the first round, but you finally got one."

The joke goes over many people's heads, a bit complex in it's meaning, but Vlad finds more humor in the confusion.

"That's exactly how I feel, actually. I'm not angry tonight, not sad, not pissed off - I feel GREAT! Probably because I AM great, but you guys wouldn't understand that feeling, so I'll move on. This girl... Khali... wait, that doesn't seem right.. Collie? Dobson? Kia? Fuck it, you probably don't know who she is either."

Another round of cries go out from the crowd, angry at Vlad's unsportsmanlike conduct. He holds a fist up to his eyes and twists it back and forth, imitating the action of wiping tears away.

"Anyhow, she reminds me of something. I've been thinking on it for a while and then, just earlier, it dawned on me. This girl reminds me of YOU. She reminds me of each and every one of you. She has hopes and dreams and goals and ambitions... just like ALL of you peasants. And THAT, right there, is why I feel so amazing. Simply because I get to take this young girl and crush those hopes and dreams, to shatter her goals and kill off her ambitions. Unlike usual, where you fucking half-brained leeches feed off of us athletes and live your dreams through us... tonight, I'm going to live out what I've dreamt about doing to all of you through this young butch."

As Vlad laughs, a chant begins to raise through the air, inciting his rage.

"YOU SUCK DICK! YOU SUCK DICK! YOU SUCK DICK!"

"SHUT THE HELL YOU, YOU INBRED BACKWASH MORONS! You see, that's what separates me from the shit-stains like you: You idiots dream of being the best, I fucking achieve it!"

Vlad throws the microphone back to Belle as the crowd continues to berate him, the chant switching to "GO FUCK RAY WHITE!" as he leans over the top rope with a middle finger held out towards them.

Dave: Well, I must say, it seems like Vladimir can dish out the insults but can't take them back too well.
Johnny: Huff it, Dave! Strife is the fucking King and all he's asking for is respect from these idiots, who obviously aren't smart enough to know what it means!

TBCB KaHLaN

[kahlan]

Abruptly, a ritual of dancing gorgeous lights initiates to flicker inside the arena, sending a ripple of cheers through the audience. Vlad’s ears cock up his eyes, in unity with the others’ roam the curtains as the sweet but annoying chorus resurrects the speakers to a new life. “Superstar” by Toy Box reverberates throughout the gymnasium as a funky figure trots her way into view.

“I am a superstar with a big big house and a big big car,
I am a superstar and I don't care who you are.
I am a superstar with a big big house and a big big car,
I am a superstar and I don't care who you are.
Got many money honey, I'm a superstar,
My life is funny honey, Have you seen my car?
I know a lot of people, I'm a superstar,
Everybody know me, Right from near to far.”

As the beaming form starts a leisurely descend towards the encircled battleground, while enjoying the climax of emotions, Belle Blair’s innocent resonance pans out with hyper excitement.

“And his opponent, from North East England Newcastle, weighting a 132Ibs … she is theeeee “Special One”, KAHLAN!”

Nearly half way to her destination, the Dementis Angelus comes to a sudden halt letting the backpack on her left shoulder to slip off and thud on the floor where she stands. A flick of her head and her raven black, wine red and turquoise coloured hair is rearranged. Hiding her right hand behind her back, the underdog begins her negligent walk again getting closer and closer towards arguably her doom. Vladimir Strife gives her a distasteful glower rolling his sight organs up and down the height of a now annoying little ‘BUG’. First the violet words ‘FUCK VERMIN STRIFE’, on the front of a rainbow coloured shirt sours his expression and then a taunting audacious smirk, followed by a middle finger in his direction changes his facial feature to one perfect for a late night comedy show.

::Dave:: Oh you don’t want to anger that tyrant, especially in the mood he is right now. I mean ... SHE is in enough TROUBLE right now; it’s not wise to ASK for more.

And then the unthinkable happens. Bringing her hidden hand from her back, the English swings a right arm, shooting something white towards the King. CRACK! A delicately skinned egg chinks on the big forehead of the undefeated behemoth. Anger floods, self control seizes to make sense and the chase begins, Strife running for the crazed creature and the referee for the bell.

::Johnny:: OH MY GOD! DID SHE JUST ‘EGGED’ THE MAN!

::Dave:: God may have mercy on her poor soul … although SHE doesn’t DESERVE it.


TBCB Vlad

[Vladimir Strife]

Vladimir takes a risky leap, soaring over the top rope and barely clearing it as he sends himself baring down on the Brit like a missle. Kahlan, having expected a more technical approach, is caught off guard, the heavyweight slamming into her chest to chest with no regards for his safety. The audience gasps as the duo collapses to the concrete with a meaty slap, the force causing them to bounce back lightly before coming to a motionless rest. The fans nearby in the first row gawk at the heap, a few taking pictures as others try to look and see if they're moving. The referee makes his way over to the scene, getting in close and surveying for signs of motion, contemplating calling the contest off if he doesn't see any soon. Strife begins to stir slowly, planting his palms across the floor and pushing himself off of the Ladder Queen.

Dave: Oh my God!! Vladimir just launched himself at this young girl and almost ended this contest before it could start! He's moving now, but Kahlan still hasn't... folks, we could see a really short match here tonight if she doesn't come to soon.
Johnny: THAT WAS SO FUCKING AWESOME! I think Vlad fucking killed her! FUCK YEAH!
Dave: How can you be happy about that!? Vlad is the biggest name in the books and he's beating on a young girl!
Johnny: Listen now, she accepted the match. She should have known the risk walking into this match, so fuck her.
Dave: So now beating a woman is okay as long as she had it coming?
Johnny: EXACTLY!
Dave: You're such an ass..

Vladimir is slowly getting back up to his feet, rubbing his neck as though he may have hurt it in the tumble, a grimace on his face. He bends down, slipping his fingers through the follicles atop Kahlan's head and using the grip to pull her back up to her feet. He throws her into the apron of the ring before pushing her over the outskirts and rolling her onto the canvas. He takes his time, knowing she won't be recovering from the dive anytime soon and climbs up the side of the ring. Stepping into the squared circle, Strife picks up a steel chair from the next to the woman and stalks her, waiting for her to get back up so that he can take her right back down. Kahlan finally begins to move, the King screaming at her to hurry and get back up, encouraging her on into his trap. After a few moments, the "Special One" finally begins to stand up, trying to shake off the blur in her vision. The steel chair looms ominously in the air, like a rattlesnake waiting to strike. She turns towards it, the Undefeated Behemoth lashing out towards her with the seat, aiming it for the crown of her head. Thinking quickly, she takes a page from her adversary's page, throwing a swift boot between his thighs and kicking him in a most sensitive of areas. The Impaler relinquishes the weapon, it crashing to the mat before him as he falls to his knees, clutching himself in agony.

Johnny: Aw, come on! That was a cheap shot! Total bullshit!
Dave: Oh, but it was so much better that Vlad was preparing to scramble her brains with that chair?
Johnny: Uh, yeah! This is Tables, Ladders, and Chairs, Dave - Not Tables, Ladders, and Nutshots!
Dave: If you ever start making sense to me, somebody just please kill me..

Kahlan gives Vlad a cheeky smile, holding her hand up to her mouth in mock sympathy. The playfulness ends shortly, Little K taking a run past Tepes and into the ropes, throwing herself against them and bouncing back. As she comes rushing back at the Czar of Scars, she lunges forward, spreading her legs wide open and straddling his shoulders. The force sends him forward, crashing down face first across the steel chair with a bang, the Special One sitting onto his head to sandwich it. As the Strife Slayer stands back up, she throws a taunt, lending the crowd to applaud in support of the underdog. Turning her attention back to Strife, Dementis Angelus pushes his over onto his back with her foot. She takes to the ropes once more, hitting them with all of her weight and snapping back. She jumps up, tucking her head down and flipping in the air to come dropping with her full weight across the Titan's knees as he raises them in defense. K rolls around in pain as the Romanian works quickly, taking a vertical stance

Vlad picks the cruiserweight back to her feet, preparing her for lesson he has in store. The Strife Slayer has a change of plans for him, however, throwing herself towards him as she turns, shooting her bicep across his chin and snapping his head back. The King stumbles back from the European uppercut and holds his neck, it still being tender from the spill they took at the match's start. Kahlan see's the weakness and grins, rushing at Strife side before taking to the air again. She reaches out and grabs the sides of his head as she swings over the top rope. The Special One drops down on the outside of the ring, yanking Vladimir back against the ropes and jerking his head back, pulling it down across the top rope. As her grasp slips, Kahlan causes the Titan's head to be thrown forward like whiplash, the Behemoth crumbling to the canvas with a mighty thud. His arms wrap over the nape of his neck, wriggling around and kicking his feet in a fit of pain. The Supernova lands on her feet outside of the ring, now reaching in under the bottom and grabbing the boots of her opponent. She begins dragging him towards the corner, the injured Impaler putting up no fight. As she positions each of his legs on opposite sides of the ringpost, the intention is clear and the Concord audience cheers her on, looking to see the Bambi Killer destroyed by this femme fatale.

Johnny: Man, what the hell is it with women and always going for the crotch!?
Dave: It must be because she can't attack his wallet.
The men bust out in laughter at the mildly sexist joke.
Johnny: If I was a female wrestler, I'd work my gimmick around it. My signatures would be like... 'Take Out The Trash!' or 'Does This Dress Make My Ass Look Fat?' or 'He's JUST A Friend'.
Dave: WHAT!?
Johnny: Wait, wait, I'm not finished! My finisher's would be 'Not Tonight, I Have A Headache', 'The Cameltoe Clutch' and the dreaded 'Once-A-Month Moonsault!'. It'd be epic!
Dave: And pretty offensive.. We'd lose the entire female part of our audience!
Johnny: Oh yes, because the ladies are just LINED up to watch wrestling, Dave, aren't they?
Dave: They might be if we didn't have so many assholes like you.

As Vlad begins to stir, Kahlan grabs on tighter to his ankles before pulling him towards her, his legs separated by the steel post. The motion slams him into the turnpost, leaving a sour look upon his face as he yells out in pain from the normally illegal tactic. Supernova takes advantage of the situation further, climbing onto the apron of the ring and looking over at her legendary victim. She grabs onto the top rope, pulling it down with all of her strength. As she loosens the hold, she allows the momentum of the rope snapping back into place to help carry her over the top of it, tucking her legs beneath her. As she clears it, she straightens her legs back out, stomping the soles of her boots down onto the side of the King's face with all of her weight behind it. The surface of his cranium proves too unstable and she falls forward to her knees, smiling and laughing into the air at he own decimation of the Undefeated Behemoth. Vladimir was a man that everyone seemed to fear and yet she had brought him down, out, and helpless just like any ordinary opponent.

TBCB Kahlan

[kahlan]

The funky figure rises to her feet dancing her way to the ringside, animatedly demanding for a microphone. Facing the frenzied audience her scoffing voice pans out through the arena, “CK” turns her back to the Titan amongst gods, screaming through the speakers.

“Now do you FUCKING SEE why they call me the FUCKING STRIFE SLAYER! I BE the one who will SLAY this beast once and for all. After tonight that SONOVVEBITH IS GOING DOWN!”

The gurgle of laughter amongst the spectators turns into a blazing cheering, while a unanimous thundering chant initiates to shake the building on its foundations.

“SLAY THE SUCKER! SLAY THE SUCKER! SLAY THE SUCKER!”

Dave: She is fantastic cheerleader JOHN! I would employ her if I had a TEAM.
John: THAT whore is going to be FUCKED. That is pure imbecility. She hasn’t done fucking anything and already bragging. It’s like she doesn’t know who she is FUCKING WITH. I mean that is the HARDCORE KING! She IS a NUMBSKULL forgetting about the match and going all arrogant BULLSHITTING TRASH!

“Sanctum Satanum meum, ‘MY HOLLY SATAN’, VAE Victis, ‘DOWN WITH THE DEFEATED” … FOR I AM SURREAL!”

The microphone thuds the mat as the maddened girl turns around thrusting a middle finger towards where she had previously semi-emasculated the Czar of Scars only to be introduced to the knuckles of a giant right fist, unceremoniously planted on her left jaw.

Dave: LIGHTS OUT!
Johnny: How do you like that you frigging HARLOT!
Dave: MY GOD! VLADIMIR STRIFE just knocked her CLEAN out with a huge right HOOK! Not even a bull could survive THAT!
Johnny: That was like kissing that HETEROTESTICULAR HITLER!
Dave: Yes … whatever that might mean.

The undefeated behemoth shakes his right hand, wincing slightly obviously feeling the after-effects of that prodigious ‘momentum killer’. Roaming his sight on the pile of stone still carcass, a wicked smile works its way on the pale lips of the Romanian. Sliding out of the ring through the bottom rope, Vladimir drags a folded table from underneath the encircled battleground and there next to the metal barrier he sets it up, rather scrupulously. KaHLaN, who has somehow managed to drag herself to the ropes nearest to him, painfully tries to lift her dead weight while using the ropes for leverage. Strife climbs the canvass and envelopes the tender neck of the crazy creature with a tight clasp pulling her up. A right arm placed on around his neck, the legend slips the blond and blue head under his armpit and grasps the side of KaHLaN’s pants leaning over the top rope. A blink in time and KaHLaN is suddenly upside down, hovering dangerously in the middle of nowhere. The undefeated evil falls backwards crashing the Dementis Angelus through the table the wood splintering at the focal point of the collision. Vlad sits up holding his back from the fall obviously in pain, for he landed on the tiled concrete executing the almost flawless technique, while his latest victim cries from pure pain.

Dave: THAT IS SICK! How could that heartless beast call himself a human being exploding a merely nineteen year old lovely girl through a damn table! That is … that is …
Johnny: Oh please! You call that junky shit frigging lovely! That is the most ridiculous comment I have ever heard.
Dave: You have no idea what you are talking about.
Johnny: And you do? It won’t surprise me if that whore has spread her legs for you as well. Make sure you go for a check up mate. I wouldn’t want to be you right now, KNOWING the GODKNOWS what kind of diseases you have been infected with.
Dave: What the … OH … OH no … you have a filthy mind asshole!

Vladimir pulls at his victim’s shirt, dragging the bragging ‘bitch’ behind him before roughly shoving her into the ring from underneath the ropes. Following her in, at the centre of the ring he hooks a left leg signalling for the official to start his fatal ritual. A split second before the baleful third slap a left shoulder is weakly raised above the canvass, forcing the man wearing the zebra coloured shirt to bring up only two fingers accompanied with a denial shake of head. A ripple of loud chorus spreads through the fans, raining at a bewildered King with a traditional taunting “YOU SUCK” chant.

The now annoyed, royal barbarian rolls the moaning form on her breasts before mounting the body hooking her left leg with his own left and wrapping the head and neck of the fallen with those muscular arms of his. Twisting to his right a calamitous submission manoeuvre is locked in place disfiguring the prey with unimaginable squeezing. Trapped inside an ill-fated Bow and Arrow submission hold, the now ‘naïve’ Brit starts to scream. Not giving a single second’s breather, the brute brutally continues with his artful torturing and after a minute or so, the eyes of KaHLaN shut down and it seems she has passed out. The referee lifts her right arm then lets it go. THUD! A second time and the results confirm the same fate. For the third time the scrawny arm is lifted above and this time it stops from hitting the canvass with merely inches to spare. Pulling at her own hair, KaHLaN starts to screech hysterically and then finally having enough, desperation kicks in and so she uses her last resort. Teeth sink into the skin of the behemoth making him scream this time – after him ignoring it stubbornly for some 15 seconds – curses something inaudible and break the hold rolling away from the devious diva.

Johnny: WHAT THE FUCK! That BITCH is a DOG too!? I swear that referee should get her arse Disqualified all the way to the kitchen.
Dave: Shut UP! What did you expect? That monstrous maniac was technically breaking her in half. Desperate situations call for desperate actions. There is a great magic in desperate actions!
Johnny: She was getting what she asked for and that is what she deserves. COME ON BREAK HER LEG!

Both Vladimir and the face swollen entertainer start to rise to their feet. On the left cheek of the self proclaimed ‘Strife Slayer’ there is big red mark from that Lights out punch that already looks like something which is going to stay there for a good long time. Vlad rubbing at his forearm snatches the steel chair lying there next to him and then runs with a mighty swing for the half crouched Fire Cracker. KaHLaN having read the mind of the psycho ducks under the coming missile and runs head first towards the ropes behind Vlad. Once in range she hops on to the second rope bouncing back with gained elastic energy. A beautiful, gravity defying back flip is performed as the high flyer’s limbs come back behind the arc of her torso. All the drama comes to a lightening doom with a back swing of the steel coming from no other than the vile Vladimir. Catching the girl’s abdomen in mid air, the baseball swing brings the bird down, body colliding dully with the mat.

The God King drops the chair and instantly slips a hand into the bristle hair of the ‘LaDDeR QUEEN’, heaving and effortlessly pulling a wobbly suffering screw up to her feet. Bent low the head and neck are forced between the parted legs of the man with a throne at the top of the food chain. First arm is followed by a second arm, hooked in place before Strife starts his sinister Skesis performance. Up in air upside down, KaHLaN miraculously manages to lock her thighs around her opponent’s thick neck, and with almost the same speed she was snatched from the gravity by the behemoth, she rolls backwards flipping the vermin, planting him back first on the canvass.

Dave: WHAT A COUNTER! Huracanrana right out of virtually nowhere! It was all promising to be a noxious Skesis and Huracanrana hits Vladimir with vengeance. She just dodged her end with the width of a slim hair!
Johnny: Opportunity makes a thief! That bastard just got the best of Strife for only a second when all was set for a very obvious ending to this match. Don’t worry though, she is gone take it. She is only making it harder for herself. The more she squirms the more the King is going to enjoy dishing out pain.

Both athletes stir and get to their feet, Vlad sooner than the underdog. Taking his time to close the distance, the monstrous maniac has a sickly simper plastered on his face which unceremoniously disappears in a split of a second being replaced with a faraway look. A reverse roundhouse kick taking a 360 degrees arc whistles through the space. The black heel of the black leather boot smashes into the side of the vermin’s forehead hitting him with a deadly ‘SUPER K’. The toughest son of a bitch that this business has seen staggers dangerously for a second but never looses his balance. Little K swings a leg to the groin bending her nemesis forward before taking to the air, mimicking a seated position. The gravity takes her down and in turn, through the crook of the knee planted behind the neck of the Beast, it takes the Czar of Scars too. The descent is short as the face of the Titan smacks the canvass with the weight of a 132Ibs ball of fury on top of him. In merely 30 seconds the fiery diva has turned the tide of this deadly game. Super K followed by a KMB leaves a proud hunter as a bruised and battered quarry. KaHLaN rolls the body flat on his back, throwing her own agony stricken figure atop it.

Dave: This COULD do it! This SHOULD do it! AND A KICK OUT!
Johnny: Oh please you DUNCE! That is the Vladimir FUCKING Strife! No sorry MOTHERFUCKER has ever managed to beat that legend. No matter what they have hit him with. Scrawny “COLLIN” doesn’t have it in her to be worthy enough to lick the guy’s boots!
Dave: That was an impressive set of offensive attacks Dave. That could have done it there.
Johnny: SHUT THE FUCK UP!

KaHLaN combing her hair back in frustration screams her wrath to the heavens and slips out of the ring. Pulling out a 15ft high ladder from underneath the ring, she slips the steel made tool into the ring following it behind. Vlad is on his fours, knees and palms planted on the mat trying to overcome the pain and so to stand up. The Demonised Angel walks over and kicks him hard, catching him in the ribs, sending him flat on the mat again. Going over to the ladder she sets it up in the far corner of the ring ready for use. KaHLaN throws a glimpse behind her and she sees Vladimir trying to get up again. Cursing under her breath she picks the once steel chain in the ring and swings at a nearly straightened monster. Strife seeing what is coming his way dodges the blow and instead the flat of the steel gets planted in the face of a black and white wearing official. The referee takes what was brewed for the devil and the devil alone, goes down knocked out. The chair falls from the hands of the fiery diva who in synch with the audience gasps putting her hands in front of her eyes wincing instead of the unlucky judge. Vlad who lets no opportunity to go past him, rushes the girl from behind hooking a giant left arm around her head and face pulling the dark horse smashing her spine in his spiked out left knee. The backbreaker is instantly followed by a rough shove from the future hall of fame inductee, both lanky legs of the heartbreaker clasped under the armpits of the giant, his victim on her stomach.

Experiencing the unpleasant anguish of a Boston Crab, KaHLaN shockingly slaps the canvass again and again, hysterically screaming, “I TAP I TAP LETGO, LETGOLETGO YOU FUCKING … OH SSSHHHIIIITTTT MMMMMAAAAMMMAAAAAA”.

Johnny: That’s it! You see now Dave?! What did I tell you, you DULLARD! The match is O-V-E-R! FUCKING OVER!
Dave: The problem is we don’t have a referee.
Johnny: OH COME ON… this is LUDICROUS! That’s what this is. LUDICROUS!

Not caring if there is a referee or not to call this match to an end, the zealot continues to do what he has already promised this night, mutilation of the young girl. The suffering girl slips a right hand into one of her baggy pockets and a gleaming, small metallic objects comes out. Pressing up with her palms, the “LaDDeR QUEEN” manages to raise her torso from the flat of the canvass and then she recoils with the speed of a viper. Coming right out from in between the spread legs of the king, and once free of the lock, she kicks him in the chest sending him back staggering. KaHLaN gets up and Vlad rushes back, arms in front mimicking a zombie. That is exactly what little K wanted. A curvy punch and the brass knuckles kiss the left eyebrow of the undefeated behemoth, splitting his skin and sending him down. The girl being the one in possession of a perfect opportunity jumps on top of the beast raining deadly right fists at his head and chest. Screaming in rage, the underdog drags Vlad to an ideal spot his back resting on the one steel chair in the ring.

Holding her back and dragging her body the “Special One” gets near the ladder and painfully slowly starts to climb it up. Once finally on the highest point, hovering dangerously above the so far laid Strife, KaHLaN stretches her arms to the side like wings palms facing skywards. Instantly a firestorm of cheering follows, and then with the most dramatically displayed jump, K becomes airborne. Back flipping twice, like maddened cannon, she lands abdomen firs on the steel chair, as his majesty sneakily rolled away from that red zoned spot. While the crazy creature starts to wriggle and squirm in pain, LDWA’s special guest sits up on one knee cursing the little “BITCH” to “GET YOUR FUCKING ASS UP”. Continuing to curse animatedly, his victim finally starts to come up on her four unsuccessfully trying to get up, very much like a newborn gazelle. An impatient Tepes grabs hold of the struggling figure bringing her up to the teeth of a headlock. In one smooth gliding motion the lock turns into an inverse ¾ and Vlad falls buttock first on the canvass, stunning the shit out of the poor little girl.

Johnny: OH FUCKING YEA. SINNERPLEX! I LOVE THAT MOVE!
Dave: OOF! That’s it. Her neck is broke.
Johnny: What a shame, now who will be our new corner dealer.
Dave: What the FUCK are you talking about!
Johnny: Isn’t that fucking obvious you …

As his hunt lies perfectly still where he “Sinerplexed” her soul out of her, Tepes topples the ladder to the outside and slides out of the battleground going underneath the apron for two tables. Dragging them one by one behind him into the circled square, he goes to plant each one, vertically against each opposite corner of the ringed square. Clamping the sour neck of a now stirring fiery diva, he drags her to her feet before unceremoniously swirling on his heels Irish whipping her towards one of the set up tables and following quickly behind her heels. Inches away from the crashing point, KaHLaN while wincing in anticipation turns her body so instead of her soft and delicate chest and face, her back would take the blow. Turning around, her jaw drops in shock as the Impaler collides chest to chest with her, slamming their way through the table she, acting as a human shield for his majesty. Back against the turnbuckles after penetrating the table, KaHLaN slides down the length of it all sitting on her ass head bowed, body lifeless. Vlad turns away dropping back first on the mat trying to overcome the pain exploding its way though his neurone system. That portion of the fans who up until now were gawking experience excitement creeping on their facial expressions showing what kind of brute loving bastards they are. A thin line of blood scars the face of the Czar of Scars as he at last begins his trip to a vertical stance, the souring tiny stream being the results of the earlier brass knuckles barrage.

To everyone’s relief a new referee starts trotting his way towards the ring as the first seems to be in the TelleTobies land. The Bambi Killer slides a hand into the hair of the poor victim, viscously yanking showcasing what kind of heartless tyrant he is. The show girl thrusts a pike like end of a wooden splint into the face of an unsuspecting undefeated. Vladimir doubles over trying in vain to pull out the sharp object out of his cheek and K dashes for the overused steel chair. A backswing catches the behemoth square in the back of the head breaking his hold on his balance. The swing was so hard that the official, who by now was inside the ring, jumped 3 feet away turning his head in reflex. The fire cracker drops the deformed chair and pulls at the carcass of the vermin dragging him towards the other set up table, resting his back seated to the flat surface of it. His head falls forward, hanging.

Johnny: HOLY SHIT. Where the fuck is that bitch going?
Dave: Another steel chair. Oh no! This doesn’t look good for Strife. Look at the eyes, my god she looks like a crazed Demon! Whatever she is thinking isn’t healthy John … I can assure you that.
Johnny: SHIT! SHE IS AIMING! GET UP STRIFE! GET UP!

Screeching like a wounded wild cat, KaHLaN takes off, away from the opposite corner to where Vlad is lying running with all she is worth. Four running strides away she jumps up bringing the chair in her position in front of her recoiling her legs and planting the flat of her boots on the flat of the chair, tilting her body back like a professional skateboarding champion. Thrusting forward, she slams the chair with the full force of a running dropkick into the face of no other than the groovy legend, sandwiching his head between an unhealthy couple of steel and wood. The table cracks and shatters. KaHLaN throws her arms on the monster and the new referee begins his dreadfully slow meaty mat slaps.

Waiting and waiting, the third count never hits the canvass and so little K out of frustration looks up and sees a pointing finger directed towards the ropes. There on the bottom rope is a boot resting sluggishly. “CK” screams in grievance slapping the seemingly unconscious Vladimir Tepes Strife with rights and lefts. “FUCK YOU! FUCKING DIE YOU SONOVVABITCH!”

Dave: I can’t believe it. After that shocking R.A.F Vladimir had his sense about him to break the referee’s count of three with the aid of the ropes.
Johnny: That is why HE IS FUCKING UNDEFEATED you CHUMP!

Striding in enmity, K sets the chair used for the dropkick in the middle of the ring and walks back towards the opposite corner. Crouched low, the Goddess of evil deeds shouts piercingly for the close ears, demanding, commanding, and begging the behemoth to rise to his “WORTHLESS” feet. Ever so slowly, with the aid of the ropes and buckles Vlad does heed to the persistence and comes up to his knees. KaHLaN darts. A split second later, Vladimir is released like an arrow. KaHLaN plants a boot on the seat trying to get airborne, when the cutting edge of a spear cuts through her.

Johnny: FUCK YEA!

Both warriors lay there in the middle of the battleground, their bodies bruised and battered from the epic war in this Monday Night Decimation’s main event. A clash of a legend and a legend defying new flicker of a star in the sky of talents has brought nothing less than awe and applause for the audience, whether they like these “entertainers” or not. After something close to an eternity, the bloodied face of the beast is raised from the ground his body sliding slowly under the persistence of his limbs. A giant arm is thrown over the virtually squashed girl, and in a blink the man wearing the zebra coloured shirt is on his knees smacking the canvass with his palm.

Dave: AND SHE KICKS OUT! My got another near count, I don’t know where she pulled off the will to kick out of that one.
Johnny: All she is doing is dragging the inevitable. One way or another she is going to loose this pathetic match and end up in a hospitals bed. Now she has no saying in the outcome of this match but she has the option of choosing the conditions she will be in when they lay her wrapped with bandages on a forsaken bed. HELL, Vlad might even kill her.

Dave shakes his head, not wanting but knowing the truth of his college’s words. The unleashed rage of the undefeated reaches a new monumental record and he pulls the semi-unconscious figure up to her feet. Sending her shuttling towards the ropes he awaits her snappy return and sticks an elbow in her face rattling her teeth with a killing blow. Blood pooling in her mouth she is once again forced to stand and while wobbling, is introduced to a bouncing back high knee from no other than her nemesis.

Satisfied with his work, Vlad pulls at the messy hair bringing her up bent, in front of him self. Hooking the first arm is followed by the second. Ready to lift the cruiserweight up for a disastrous descent, KaHLaN suddenly turns her body out of a hooked hold, poking the crotch of the behemoth with the beak of her boot. Countering the Skesis for a lucky second time, the show girl wraps her lanky arms around the face and neck of the Romanian taking him in a reverse ¾ headlock before she runs towards the nearest turnbuckles. Two feet away, Vlad come to himself planting two huge palms on the back of the “Special One” pushing her forward and snapping her hold of him. With vicious intensity the curvy front of KaHLaN smacks the leather and she bounces back in pain unfortunately falling prey to a very nasty fate. Vlad hugs the unbalanced diva in an inverse ¾ of his own devising, before falling smoothly to the canvass smacking the back of her head on the mat with a mind-blowing Neckbreaker.

“ONE! … TWO! … YEAAAAHHHHH”

Johnny: What the F …
Dave: Her resiliency is frustrating the King here.
Johnny: OOH Vlad is heading for one hell of a teaching.

Cursing the referee for his inability to make the three count, Strife pulls the almost “dead” body up wrapping his bicep and forearm around the slender neck squeezing the windpipe. In bulldog position, his majesty turns for the previously set up seat with evil intentions. A fist from behind comes up in between his legs hitting him in his pride, breaking his choking hold and forcing him to double over. Little K springs up running towards the ropes and comes back flying with both feet thudding the ass of the Impaler. Strife topples forwards and through the ropes, he is sent crushing down on the tiled concrete outside. KaHLaN, knowing that he would not be down for too long picks the chair up and place it near the side where Vlad is currently pulling at the steel barrier to get up while the audience in the other side swear all kinds of dark oaths at him. Running wild, the crazed Brit uses the seat as a jumping board becoming airborne, flying over the top rope. Somersaulting once, the ball of fury descends with intensity towards a now turning Tepes, who once his mind has made sense of the danger, flees with his limbs flagging behind him.

The climax is unfortunate for the one in love with soaring through air, as the royalty known better by the title of “LaDDeR QUEEN” lands on the edge of a solid steel made security wall with a resonating CRACK! She falls in the frenzied fans, very much akin to a carcass.

Dave: WE NEED MEDICS HERE RIGHT NOW!
Johnny: NO, NO! CALL THE FUNERAL DIRECTORS!

TBCB Vlad

[Vladimir Strife]

As Kahlan lay among the gymnasium's paying patrons, they begin to shout words of encouragement at her, convincing her to press on despite her body's screams to surrender and rest. Little K pushes her palms against the cold gray floor and slowly begins to lift herself from it. Ever supportive, the surrounding fans give light pats to her back, cheering as she gets a foot planted firmly. All the while, the Undefeated Behemoth has climbed the protective barricade and is making his way towards the prankster, a calm hatred in his features. His way is cleared, people stepping aside in an unspoken knowledge of what would happen to any man, woman, or child that dared stand in his line of fire. As the Special One stands tall at last, a hand comes from behind, burying itself within her hair and clenching down tightly onto the black follicles. The Titan turns her around before slinging her towards the guardrail forcefully. The self-proclaimed Strife Slayer slams into the metal with her pelvis, her body teetering on the steel bar before flipping over and dumping onto the black padded mats at ringside once more.

DS: And Vladimir Strife is simply manhandling Kahlan now and you can rest assured that she is probably still seeing stars from the painful meeting with the barricade..
JR: Yes, Dave... MAN-handling. And screw it, don't have any sympathy for that bitch! She did that to herself!

The King is right behind her, stepping over the rail smoothly and watching the woman scramble before him, rushing to get up and fight. Despite the hell she's endured, the Ladder Queen gains an upright position quickly. Vladimir grabs the back of her head once more though, pushing her forward and guiding her like a missile for the steel steps. Unable to stop herself, Kahlan turns her face away from the metal, colliding shoulder first and unhinging the uppermost section, freeing it and sending it into the front of the nearby announce table.

Before she can even begin to truly nurse the damage, the spunky youngster finds herself on her feet again, this time against her own will. Strife clutches her bicep, using it to drag her to the vertical position in preparation for more abuse. Thinking quickly to avoid another lovely view of the Solid Core Gymnasium's ceiling, Kahlan fires out with a wild punch. The ball of knuckles finds it's way to the adam's apple of the Impaler and leaves him gasping for air, sputtering and coughing as he releases the 'unworthy peasant'. As the Special One looks for her next means of attack, an eager front row attendee offers his seat to her. The Strife Slayer raises the chair high above her head, a grin upon her face as she plans to once and for all live up to her self-proclaimed moniker.

JR: Hey, what the fuck!? She can't fight her own battles? Now she needs the fans' help?
DS: Oh, stuff it already! She didn't ask that fan to give her a chair and besides, it's perfectly legal!
JR: Legal doesn't mean right, Dave.
DS: Oh, and you're one to talk about being right.

As the King turns back to his foe, the chair blasts across his crown, ringing out like a gunshot to the farthest reaches of the gymnasium. His legs wobble, but the Titan manages to maintain his standing, accustomed to a multitude of chair shots throughout his hardcore laden career. Not to be deterred, Kahlan brings the weapon above her head again with a look of determination upon her face. A slap of metal and flesh calls out as the seat glances across the forehead of the Undefeated Behemoth, leaving him further staggering, but still upright. The Special One reels back once more, letting loose with a sideways swing that connects with Vladimir's cheek. His head jerks sharply to the side as he hits the apron, propped up and continuing to give in to the vicious blows. The Strife Slayer shakes her head in frustration, pulling the slab of twisted and distorted steel over her shoulder before lashing out with it yet again. The impact is horrendous, tearing the gash over Strife's eye wider and sending a thick flow of crimson down his face. The metal backing attached to the top of the solid frame comes undone, flinging out into the crowd and becoming a souvenir for one lucky person.

DS: JESUS CHRIST! 4 chairshots and Vladimir is still standing! How the hell is that even possible!?
JR: Because he is a GOD, Dave. This is a man that goes through hell and then gets back in line to go again!
DS: Well, I don't suppose anyone can rightly argue with that logic..

With her weapon of choice hanging around the neck of her opponent and rendered useless, Kahlan grabs onto her bloodied foe and heaves him onto the apron, rolling him into the ring and leaving him lying prone on the canvas. Scaling the side of the ring, she climbs up the turnpost, cheers pouring out from the crowd for the underdog turned dominator. Standing atop the top turnbuckle, the Special One balances herself, lining up the target in her sights beneath her. A mighty heft of her weight and she comes off of the perch, straightening her legs in front of her as she barrels down on the Romanian. Her thigh slams down across his collarbone and throat, adding further damage to his already tender neck. As she rolls off of him quickly and gets back to her feet, Vlad rolls around in agony, clutching the affected area and kicking his feet. The Ladder Queen throws her pointer finger high into the air, proclaiming that she is the top dog, a barrage of applause coming in response from the hyped Californians.

DS: YEAH! Go Kahlan! This is quickly looking like it could become the biggest Cinderella story in wrestling history!
JR: Oh, don't be so damn naive! Kahlan may be on top at the moment, but she doesn't have what it takes to put the King away for good. She has no chance, Davey boy, I'm telling you.

Little K walks over to the dethroned King, bending down and getting into his face as she screams a few select words at him. Without warning, his arm darts up from the ring, fingers clasping around her throat as his eyes open wide, filled with rage and a hunger for retribution. Strife begins to pull himself up, getting his legs beneath him while maintaining the hold on his victim. Kahlan struggles, but the Czar of Scars is up to a vertical base before she can protest enough to stop him. Another wild shot comes flying at his temple, the Impaler thinking quickly as he lets go and ducks below the haymaker. He pops up behind the femme fatale, swinging his arm around her back and grabbing her by the shoulder. His other hand takes grasp of the other, using the leverage to yank her backwards and down towards the mat where an outstretched knee awaits. The younger and lighter cruiserweight's spine is bent across the Sinner's thigh, a grimace coming across her face as she flops over and down onto her front.

Still groaning from the backbreaker, the Strife Slayer has no time to gather her bearings as the EVPW star drags her up to a kneeling position. A smile comes over him as an idea pops into his mind. Vulgarly and disrespectfully, the Undefeated Behemoth slips his fingers through the follicles of Kahlan's hair and shoves her face into his crotch in a fellatio mimicry. Seeming to have fun in making his opponent look promiscuous and scandalous, Vladimir pulls her back and forth by the hair, giving an appearance that she is bobbing her head. A select portion of the audience breaks out in laughter at the humiliation, many others disgusted with it. The Ladder Queen, snapping out of the daze from her aching back, becomes infuriated at what Strife is doing. She opens her mouth wide, but in no attempt to give the man what he is implying. Instead, she lunges her face into his crotch, clenching her teeth down firmly on the lump in his pants. A shrill scream comes out of the former tag team champion, tugging at her hair now to try to remove her. The Special One doesn't let go, seeking to punish his bad behavior for the moment. The GodKing begins to beg her to let go, the Strife Slayer finally letting up and leaving him to prance about, clutching himself and cursing aloud.

JR: AW, COME ON! There may not be any disqualification, but you CAN'T allow that!
DS: Oh, come on! It may be painful to see, but he was asking for it!
JR: Bull and shit, Dave and you know it! She bit him! Maybe it's not illegal in this match, but it should be punishable by death! The bible even says so!
DS: Johnny, the bible doesn't say biting someone's junk is punishable by death..
JR: Dude - it so does!! I swear it!

The crowd goes wild, hysterical at the backfiring of Vladimir's antics. Kahlan returns to her feet, rushing at Strife and looking for more revenge for the humiliation. The GodKing meets her with a grip to her wrist, throwing his weight back and ripping her forward. He spins the diva around, tossing her into the corner with all of his might. Little K slams against the turnbuckles, bouncing back from the force and bringing a hand to her lower back in agony from the combination of the backbreaker and now a hard Irish whip. The 269 pounder shoots forward, ramming his clenched fist into her mouth and taking her off of her feet. She crumbles to the canvas, her head coming to rest on the bottom turnbuckle ominously from the Lights Out signature punch. Strife calls for a chair, ringside announcer Johnny Reifenheiser folding his seat up before chucking it into the squared circle and right into the clutches of the fearsome legend.

DS: Oh, and what happened to it being wrong to accept help from outside sources!?
JR: Just evening the score, Davey, just evening the score.

Vladimir sets the chair in the corner against the face of the Special One, looking at it for a moment before deciding that it was incorrect and turning it around, purposely setting it for the seat to open in the direction of the face it rests against. Despite jeering protests from the audience, the King paces across the mat, making his way to the opposing corner before turning back to his 52nd victim with a diabolical glare, matching the intentions running in his mind.

DS: Oh my God! Is he going to do what I think he is!? NO! She's a young woman, this is fucking WRONG!
JR: Hey, you fuck with the bull, you get the horns! Kahlan isn't getting anything she didn't ask for as soon as she stepped into that ring with Vladimir.
DS: I'm all for competition and WRESTLING, Johnny... but this isn't wrestling, this is becoming murder! There's a motive, a means, and a fucking weapon even!

The GodKing takes off in a sprint, swiftly clearing the distance between himself and the Strife Slayer. He pounces right foot forward, jumping onto the prankster's chest as he wraps his digits around the top rope. He pushes off from her body, taking to the air as he pivots about the top turnbuckle, coming to a horizontal positioning. Tucking his legs towards his chest, Vladimir releases the rope and drops down. His patellas slam into the steel seat against Kahlan's face, denting the metal with enough force to leave an impression in it's surface. As he rolls backwards, the twisted seat falls away from the unconscious diva, revealing it's effects. Her right eye has already begun to swell, a patch of purple surrounding the socket. Blood flows from a split in the bruising, rushing down her cheek and neck profusely, her shirt quickly becoming stained with the torrent as her ravaged body begins to convulse grotesquely.

DS: SOMEBODY CALL A FUCKING AMBULANCE! God Almighty, I swear I've never seen something this disturbing in my entire life!
JR: Ohhhhhh FUCK! Awwww, awwww man, that is fucked! That is seriously fucked!

[kahlan]

Its not fair!

[kahlan]

[tnt]

look kahlan, vlads lap top is acting up and im not going to punish him for it

[kahlan]

REALLY!?

As if you have a choice.

[tnt]

kahlan if you have any problems i would rather u air them through pms than clutter up threads

[kahlan]

Well I was trying to communicate with Vladimir.

You just poped up out of nowhere.

[Vladimir Strife]

Kahlan, my laptop was fucking up BAD. Not once, but twice I had a shitload typed and it cleared it out because somehow it decided I hit the wrong button. I'm still kinda getting used to it, I guess. Anyhow, I had to use my lappy to post because I had part of a post saved on it from work earlier and I didn't want to start completely from scratch. I'm sorry for the delay, but I really couldn't help it with the situation.

[kahlan]

either way. u won the cheating way.

[Vladimir Strife]

Cheating? How the hell did I cheat?

My post was up before the deadline explaining that I was posting. I talked with the GM over PM and he gave me the time to finish up the post. Not only that, but my 2 action posts combined contained less words than your 1 action post. Kahlan, I won by being better.

[kahlan]

yea whatever.
U won cuz u got the last post on this ocasion.