Amy Poford vs. Armando 'Army' Rodriguez - Lover's Spat

Army breathed a sigh of relief as Amy's legs finally let up and released him. A long, deep sigh of relief, meant to refill his lungs with fresh air. Even though she'd only been on him for the better part of two minutes, she'd managed to do a number on his ribs in that time, turning what had been a maybe-minor injury into a definitely-major one.

He grumbled a little bit as she messed up his hair and grabbed the ropes, pulling himself up to his feet Army had just managed to stand up straight when he felt a piercing pain in his side, and looked down in time to see Amy's leg quickly moving away as his body recoiled. The crowd cheered as he reeled away, getting knocked into the corner while he covered his side and wheezed.

Amy was right behind him. As soon as both of her feet were back on the ground again, she surged toward Army’s corner, looking to keep on the pressure. Army was nursing his side, preventing easy access; she could have moved his arm, but she was willing to sacrifice precision for immediacy. To that end, she stepped in close, driving an elbow in the tender spot at the top of his abs, just below where the ribs came together. If that should bring his head down low, well, she probably wouldn’t resist the urge to bend her knees, twist her body around to face the outside, and follow up with a nice, crisp uppercut. But she’d turn around and back off right after. Army might have been reeling, but, if she stood still too long, he’d quickly find a way to punish her for it.

While Army wasn't slow, it was easy to forget just how blazingly fast Amy could be in comparison - it was like an SUV trying to compete with a stock car. Try as he might, it  was simply not going to happen, and that was made abundantly clear when her little fist found its way to the top of his ribs and managed to hit some tender flesh.

Army cried out and lurched forward, but Amy shut his mouth immediately with an uppercut that cracked his jaw and made him wish he'd had the foresight to wear a mouthguard - he bit his tongue, gnashed it hard, and he could taste blood beginning to leak out. Didn't feel serious, but the first stop after this match was going to be in the bathroom to check it out.

He swore, he could almost hear Carmen yelling 'Defense!' all the way back home, and he took her advice to heart as his arms came up in a tight guard. Army put his back to the turnbuckle and braced himself, as he prepared to withstand the storm.

Amy frowned. Army had turtled up; getting at his midsection was going to be tough. Part of her wanted to step back, let him get some air, fight him on a much less frustrating level.

But Amy was loathe to give up a sure advantage like this one. She had learned from the aftermath of her first pin attempt that, if she wasn’t relentless, she was vulnerable. Plus, letting him out would just give him the opportunity to get the jump on her; they were both feeling the effects of the fight, and it wouldn’t be out of the question for him to surprise her with a sudden grab. Besides, he was right where she wanted him, and she didn’t know if she would ever get Army into the corner again during this match. No, she needed to find a way to end things here.

So Amy took a wide stance and bent her knees. “Open-” Then she dove right back in again, leading off with a flying knee aimed high, trying to force it past his arms. “-up!” Once she lands, she’d start to pummel on his guard with hooks and uppercuts, trying to break through to his tenderized torso. Just a few more good ones, and she'd have him on his knees. “Come on, Army,” she’d say as she rained down hits. “Go down so we can get backstage, already. I’m starting to worry that you don’t find me attractive anymore.”

Army had a pretty good guard when he put his mind to it, but even with his strength and his resiliance, there was only so much he could take before the walls came down. And Amy was, as usual, very persistent.

Her knee sliced past his guard and shot deep in his stomach, knocking out a long gust of wind from his lips as the air was forced from his lung. He immediately retreated back into his shell as she battered away at him, even managed to get in a few shots around his guard before he could correct and cover up the trouble spots. It was just chip damage, but eventually she'd wear him down.

Army wasn't just guarding, though - he was setting up. He had a new move under his belt, and this was the perfect time to use and the perfect spot to spring it in.

He lowered his guard and took a hook in the face, grunting as the blow rocked his head to the side. That was the price he had to pay, though, in order to give Amy a shove and pushed her back a step, putting her in the right place. From there he dropped his left arm out of the guard and brought it up quick in a motion that was just like an uppercut - only with a fist turned just like a hook. The result was a punch that wasn't quite a hook, wasn't quite an uppercut, came in from an odd, unexpected angle and went up with enormous power as it surged towards Amy's chin.

The Smash.

Army’s guard dropped, and Amy wasted no time, burying a hook in the hole and striking gold on Army’s face. She readied another punch, but Army had shoved her backwards. Amy fell back a few steps, but put her foot down. Hell to the no. Army’s arms were down, falling off his body like a peel off a banana; heck, his guard was leaking all over the place, and she wasn’t gonna let a little push-

…

…

…

It was as though Army had pressed an off switch. His punch hammered Amy’s chin and Amy’s head snapped back, instantly liquefying her knees. She’d have crumpled where she stood if not for the brute force of the punch; it had pushed her back, nearly off of her feet, and she dropped backwards like a felled tree.

Once she was on the mat, Amy propped herself up on her elbows and gave Army an uncomprehending stare, looking almost as though she wanted to ask him a question. But no one was home. Instead, as though her head were growing heavier and heavier, she melted slowly back into the mat, her arms stretching out over her head, legs extended out to their fullest, breathing coming in in broken gasps. Sounds hit her ears, and sights hit her eyes, but there was no one on the other end to receive them; her brain was closed for business.

The crowd wasn't cheering, they weren't booing, they weren't doing much of anything. They were mostly confused. The end has come so suddenly that even the referee didn't seem to know what was going on - she stood there, dumbfounded.

Army was probably the most animated person in the building, as he dropped down to his knees beside Amy to make sure she was alright. Pulse steady, breathing okay, neck seemed good. She was just gone. Solid gone.

The referee snapped out of it and moved to the other side of Amy, raising her hand up for the obligatory three count. "1...2...3!"

The bell rang and Army picked up the win, but he honestly wasn't even paying that much attention to it. Amy was the bigger concern at the moment, and that was why he dropped under the ropes, pulled her unconscious body out, scooped her up and took her to the back before the referee even had the chance to raise his hand in victory.

Winner By Knockout: Armando Rodriguez!