Clyde Gastin vs Carmen Rodriguez - The Quick and the Dead

Match Type: Standard
Victory Conditions: Pinfall, Submission, and KO

2 wins, 2 losses.

Carmen's last two fights went well - she won them, anyway. Steve had been a real challenge; younger than her, but more experienced with wrestling. They fought hard, he went down. She earned that one. Kira was a little less - she took him in a straight boxing match, her domain. He didn't really have much of a chance, but he was stubborn to the end. She'd take it - reluctant, but she'd take it.

All her fights so far had one thing in common, though: all of them had been against people with as much or slightly more in-ring experience as her. That wasn't the case, tonight. This time, her target was Clyde Fucking Gastin.

Their ratio was about the same; he was 10-11, one win away from breaking even. But experience wise, there was no comparison. He'd fought more opponents with wider variety. He had better mastery, more weapons in his disposal, and that made her the clear underdog.

She liked that.

She came down to the ring as her [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CRfM8t6uvQw:16qkijhy]music[/url:16qkijhy] started, guitar strings accompanying her as she made her way to the ring...along with her brother. Coming along was all his idea to start, and for once she agreed to it; they'd decided to make it a thing after watching one of the recent Friction matches. She didn't think Clyde would cheat; from what she saw Clyde wasn't the type. But the AFW could be unpredictable, and a little insurance wouldn't hurt. Besides...having him around for support was nice. Not that she'd ever let him know, his ego was big enough.

They stopped just outside of the ring, with Army taping up her fists; the only part of her boxing attire she was wearing tonight. This time she was going simple - wearing some dark grey cargo pants and boots, with a black wifebeater. Nothing fancy.

"You ready?" Army finished off the left hand, ripping off the tape with his teeth. "Spotlight's on. Not gonna be like your match with gangster girl; won't be turning the fight into a fuck."

She rolled her eyes - he'd never let her live that first match down. "I won't forget I'm a lesbian, Army; don't worry." She squeezed her left fist, making sure the tape held tight.

"Just stick to the plan, you'll be fine." He finished off the right and gave her a pat on the shoulder. "Got you covered out here; anything happens, I'll crush it. You just do your thing, mess up the dirty white boy."

"I will. Was that a Foreigner reference?"

"Was, yeah."

"Nice." She pummeled her palm and grabbed the rope, pulling into the ring. "Wish me luck."

He gave her a pat on the ass as she went, gaining a few eyebrow raises - it was a family thing, obviously didn't translate well across the pond."Fuck luck, you got skill. Kick his ass!"

Every once in a while, Army had a nice way of putting things.

Having been plagued lately with a series of unfortunate events by people who liked to create such unfortunate events for others, Clyde was beyond frustrated due to all the crazy shenanigans that had been occurring for him and his family in AFW, in addition to more crazy shit set to happen in the near future. All he wanted to do was find Allison Watson and that bombed hard, so now he was back in Kyoto and scheduled to have a match. Clyde accepted, seeing it as a chance to blow off some much needed steam. His opponent was a tall, toned, mature, Puerto Rican Hottie of a boxer named Carmen Rodriguez. She was a major 180 from Mercy and Clyde liked that, he felt like a rough scrap was all he needed to get his spirit up and over all this crazy shit happening.

[url=http://youtu.be/lF5mIooP2S8?t=6s:31eddu73]"No Compromise" by Rebel Meets Rebel[/url:31eddu73] began to play throughout the arena as Clyde Gastin came down to the ring, a cocky-looking swinging swagger in each step within walk down the entrance ramp wearing his leather cowboy hat, a shredded black denim vest that had a SLAYER insignia on the back, along with his ring gear that consisted of long black tights, matching boots, and pads on his elbows and knees, in addition to taped wrists, fists exposed.

The cowboy strolled around the outside ring, going past Carmen and Army to leave his hat on the announcer table before hopping up on the ring apron, going to his corner, climbing the turnbuckle to raise his hands to the cheering crowd before ditching the vest and hopping down into the ring, looking at Carmen with a lopsided grin.

"Hope you ready to rock, missy!" He declared while dramatically pointing at her

This chick was tall quite, Clyde was only 5'7 and she had 15 pound on him too, the toned muscles she had going on reminded him to play it safe. He knew a good bit of boxing but he was no silver medalist. Bob and weave!

Carmen looked on with folded arms and a calm face as Clyde made his way in. This was her first time hearing his entrance theme; the Youtube videos she'd studied usually cut that part out to save space. Definitely metal - country metal, if her ears served her right. She didn't recognize the band, but she liked what she heard - heavy, deep, rowdy fighting music that suited him. and the audience seemed keen on it, too, raising up as Clyde made his entrance, giving him the respect you'd expect. Misfortunes or not, they were taking sides in this match, favoring the known quantity. Carmen hadn't exactly made the best splash so far; she wasn't getting treated like an outright heel, but she was starting to catch some flak on the internet. 'More wrestling, less boxing', 'Go to the Boxing Federation!', 'WRESTLE! WRESTLE!'. Stuff like that, though most often put in ruder and less grammatically correct ways.

Tonight was the night that started to change.

As Clyde came in Carmen focused on Army, instead - he had that look in his eye, glancing between her and Clyde's hat. She knew that look. That 'please, let me fuck with the gringo' look. She shot him back a very clear 'do not screw with my match, idiot' look, and he seemed to get the picture, holding up his hands as he backed away...for now. How long that would stick, she couldn't guess.

She focused back on Clyde as he pointed straight at her, throwing down the gauntlet - the man knew how to get your attention. Few things are less subtle than a Texan in tights yelling at you. She smirked and unfolded her arms walking over to the center of the ring and holding out her arm for a fist bump.

"Don't you worry about me, vaquero - I was born ready. Came out of the womb swinging." She smirked. "You?"

Clyde maintained his positive demeanor (Oblivious to Army's desire to comment on the redneck) when he saw Carmen smirk and approach the center of the ring, holding her fist out. The cowboy eagerly joined her by jetting to the center, bopping her fist and then jumping back, bouncing on the balls of his feet on front of Carmen, his arms elevated at his sides. His only concern seemed to be that... The last time a brother/boyfriend whatever was ringside, he clocked Clyde in the head with a steel chair. He wasn't a big fan of those.

"...Vaquer-.... Oh! Haa... You mean cowboy!" Clyde knew some, some, some, Spanish. Not a lot.

"'Ell yeah! Ikuze, baby!" Clyde exclaimed to Carmen as the bell rang shortly after, prompting Clyde to try and lunge at the boxer and lockup with her, trying to muscle her back towards the ropes if he could even manage to.

The second their hands touched, Clyde moved back, already getting into position, dancing in places; the man seemed full to bursting with energy. Tough to wear out; Carmen knew all too well that he could be a hard man to put down. She had a few advantages going in, sure - the most obvious one was height. But she wasn't the tallest opponent he'd faced - that honor went to Chitbang. And he'd beaten her. Height was advantage, but she'd need more. Much more.

No, for this, she had a plan - or at least a guideline to follow. She intended to give this man and the audience something wholly different from whatever they were expecting; if Clyde had brought any expectations to the ring, she would shatter them like a glass jaw.

She moved into her own position, fists up and open, placing one foot forward, keeping her hands up and body turned - an orthodox stance, a little less tight than the typical defensive position she favored. If he knew anything about her, he'd know she was a boxer, so she'd start out by giving him that. For now.

She snickered, letting her smirk widen at his words. "Yeah. Ikuze."

The bell rang and her demeanor changed along with it in perfect timing - eyes narrowed, brows furrowed, smirk vanished. Clyde was coming at her, looking for a classic lookup - she had the weight advantage between the two, maybe she could force him back...but she wasn't eager to take the chance and start off on a bad foot. She lunged forward, too, but instead of meeting him on his terms, she threw out a hard straight right, custom-made for his face, punching through the lockup and trying to put the height difference to good use.

Clyde moved in, ready to grapple, aware that he was fighting a boxer but hoped to test out the waters against the tall vixen this way, whom would lunge forward right as Clyde did and greet him with a hard right straight punch right to his face. Clyde could see Carmen's hips turn into the punch, he knew it was coming, couldn't avoid it, he could only turn his head slightly to the side, prompting his cheek to take the full on brunt on of the blow.

"UGH!!" Spit flew from the boy's mouth as his cheek felt Carmen's fist bury into him, turning his head further as his senses were rocked, staggering back in a dazed manner, bringing his arms up out of reflex.

She didn't catch Clyde completely off guard - if she had, he'd likely be on the floor after taking that punch right in the fact. Just about anyone would. He managed to turn a bit, make his cheek take the brunt of it, maybe even brace himself. Still, quite satisfying - the first punch was always the sweetest. And there was more where that came from. A shit-ton more.

She let out a feral grunt as he cried out, already setting up her next move as the fist pulled back. His arms went up and she went down, reflex taking hold for both of them. Taking a hard step in, she pivoted on her feet, twisted her body and swung a low left hook for his ribs, all in one, fluid motion.

Clyde tasted blood in his mouth, Carmen nailed him good, real good. He couldn't afford to take too many shots from her otherwise he was going down to the mat unconscious most likely. Down like Frazier if he wasn't careful. But it was hard being careful now that Carmen was on the attack, he fueled her fire in his moment of weakness.

The Boxer was too fluid, following up as Clyde was rocked by her punch, she went low and Clyde couldn't protect himself in time, he'd watch her fist pound into his rib and the cowboy curled up. "ACK!" He wheezed immediately as his ribcage was lit up, stung like hell.

"H-Hoooh!!" The blondie growled like the pain was angering him, adrenaline getting to him as he muscled through the pain and threw out his left arm, trying to smack Carmen in the side of her temple with a padded elbow, a swift, angry strike.

Two shots, solid both - her punch slid past his guard and landed right where she wanted, hitting so well she could've drawn a sketch of his ribs just from the feeling. His cry seemed to echo through the stadium, and the audience gasped along with it - maybe they didn't care too much for straight boxing in a wrestling ring, but they couldn't argue with results.

She knew that sound in Clyde's voice - it was the first time she heard it coming from a male, Texan accent, but it was all too familiar, otherwise. That sound of rage - it'd even come from her own lips a few times. There was a blow coming for her, she knew it, and it was the sort of blow she wouldn't have taken in a boxing match - an elbow cracked into the side of her skull, wild and free, rocking her head. Clyde was no Hulk, but he could hit hard, harder than she would've guessed for his size.

She staggered to the side, leg wobbling, as she backed off and her visioned wavered. Staying low, she brought her own guard up and retreated. Feet tapping. Bouncing for foot to foot. Fierce eyes staring right back into his.

"Come on!" She barked, then muttered under her breath. "Comeoncomeoncomeon..."

Clyde's ribs burned, but he stayed firm as he watched the woman stagger away following a swift elbow to the side of her head. Though it was clearly not as powerful as any of the punches Carmen had been dishing out, it got her to back up, which was what Clyde wanted. He watched the boxer get back with her arms up, staying low and bouncing, Clyde was hunched over, ready as well, circling and trying not to make any careless moves or risk getting tagged real hard.

The cowboy lunged forward with a couple quick steps before swinging out his back leg in front, trying to strike the side of her leg with his shin while staying nimble on his feet, eyes locked on her own, trying to goad her into attacking.