Dixie Clemets vs. PHDoom! ~Tables Match!~

Tables Match
The first woman to put her opponent through a table is declared the winner.

(Continued from here.)

It didn't take long for a referee to hit the ring after Dixie and Doom had declared they were fighting. The AFW always kept a few of them waiting in the wings, specifically for cases like this. Almost as soon as Doom demanded the presence of one, a referee came jogging down the ramp, sliding into the ring and motioning for the bell. There was no need for any further delay, after all. There was no special setup required for the match. There were plenty of tables already waiting under the ring, and even if there wasn't, the announcer's table was sitting right there, just waiting for someone to put another woman through it.

Dixie wasn't worried or even thinking about those finer details, however. The moment, the exact moment that she heard the bell ring, she lunged straight towards Doom, raising her arms to lock up with the woman. There was no playing around for the cowgirl; she wanted a piece of Doom, and she wanted it now!

Doom dropped her mic, and waved impatiently at the referee to get into the ring. The brawler was grinning from ear to ear, ecstatic that she was finally getting the chance to wrap her hands around the accursed blonde cowgirl's throat. This match had been a long time coming, and Doom could barely contain herself.

Apparently, neither could Dixie. The cowgirl locked up with her, putting Doom on the defense immediately. "Hhgn!" Doom grunted, as Dixie locked in her grip. "Have you- rrh! Put on weight? You're- hh- heavier than Doom remembers ...?" For the moment, Doom was content to try and match strength with Dixie. Planting her boots on the mat, the brawler pushed back against the cowgirl, waiting to see which of them might get the upper hand.

"It's all muscle, girl!" Dixie fired back at Doom, planting her own boots against the mat as she glared at the hateful woman. "Ain't nothin' but...nn...nothin' but extra muscle, perfect fer kickin' yer ass!"

She grit her teeth, shoving back against Doom, an eager fire in her eyes as she vied for the early advantage in their first exchange. She wasn't moving, but neither was Doom, it seemed, and the cowgirl was determined not to be the first one to budge. She tried to push a little harder, putting a bit more strength into her shoving, trying to force Doom back.

"Tch! Y-ya ain't winnin' here, girl! Might as well back it on up!"

"Y-your ... predictive abilities ..." Doom grunted, as she and the cowgirl struggled against one another, "are as terrible- rrrgh! As your t-technical skill!"

Doom looked into Dixie's eyes, seeing the passion that the cowgirl held. It widened the grin on the sadistic fighter's face. In her mind, it was a stronger flame for her to try to snuff. Doom pushed back for a few moments, their struggling bodies inching closer and closer, before Doom suddenly shifted her weight. It wasn't backing down, she told herself, it was strategy. Strategy, and not the worry that Dixie was just as muscular as she claimed ...

Shifting her weight to one side, Doom sidestepped away from where they were locked, shifting her grip on Dixie to attempt sending the curvaceous cowgirl flying into the ropes. Doom kept on her heels, awaiting Dixie's rebound, already rotating her arm in anticipation of catching the cowgirl with a running clothesline.

Dixie...was not expecting that.

She had been expecting Doom to maintain her position, thinking the woman would want to try and overpower her more than anything else. Doom wasn't as predictable as she seemed, however, and before Dixie knew it, she had been sent flying to the ropes.

She struck against them, stretching them out for a split second before rebounding back towards Doom. Her movements were out of control, the cowgirl unable to stop or slow herself as she neared her fiendish foe, and before she knew it, the clothesline had smashed into her chest, knocking her off of her feet and onto her back.

She lied there a moment and then groaned, slowly starting to sit back up, the Texan suddenly remembering all too well what kind of power Doom was packing in her body.

"HA!" Doom cried out, as Dixie came springing back to her. The feeling of Doom's bicep against Dixie's upper chest was intensely gratifying, for the brawler. She'd imagined it so many times since they'd fought, but nothing could compare to the real thing.

Doom took a moment to watch Dixie, pacing around her while a low rumble of disapproval moved through the fans. When Dixie started to get upright, the brawler would pounce on her. Planting herself down on Dixie's midsection, Doom straddled the poor cowgirl, while taking a tight fistful of her lovely blonde hair.

"What happened, Cowgirl?" Doom taunted, as she reeled a cocked arm back, "Doom thought you had this!"With that, Doom would begin pummeling Dixie with a series of elbow strikes to the head, three in total, rapid and hard. "Was the cowgirl not as ready as she thought?" In an instant, it looked as if the wrestling match was devolving into a straight-up brawl.

A loud grunt escaped Dixie's lips, as Doom jumped onto her pinning her to the with her slightly smaller body. She growled up at the woman, but before she could form a proper response, in came the elbows.

"Nn! Mmf! GNNN!"

With each blow, Dixie cried out, her head getting hammered by Doom's quick, relentless strikes. To the audience, it seemed as if Doom was holding every advantage, sitting confidently atop the cowgirl's body, Dixie seeming more and more out of things with each blow. In fact, if it had been any other woman receiving those elbows, Doom probably would have held every advantage.

Dixie Clemets was not any other woman though. She was stubborn as hell and she wasn't going to let some nutjob wannabe beat on her like this!

After the third blow, Dixie groaned, then suddenly shouted out in anger. She reached up, grabbing at Doom's arms, while trying to buck her body to the side at the same time. She was trying to pull the woman off of herself, so that she could roll over atop of her and return fire with her own blows, a few stiff, angry forearm blows, aimed right to the side of Doom's skull!

With each loud smack of Doom's arm against Dixie's face, the brawler's grin grew. She'd been dreaming of this moment for so long now, finally getting to act it out was gratifying on a level Doom had never known before. In fact, there was a slight chance, Doom realized in a brief moment of clarity, that she might have been enjoying it a bit too much ...

In a flash of writhing bodies, Dixie took hold of Doom's arms and flipped the pair of them over. "Rrrghh!" Doom grunted, face flashing red in rage, as she found herself trapped against the mat.

"Impertinent c-OOW!" Doom's insults turned to a shout of pain and frustration as Dixie began pummeling her with some stiff foream shots of her own. Doom tried to raise an arm to defend herself, but there was no chance she was going to absorb the majority of Dixie's force. The cowgirl had the match firmly in hand, at the moment, and the only thing Doom could do was try to block out as much of the pain as she could, by focusing on her hate.

One hit, two hits, three, four! Every time Dixie's forearm clubbed into Doom's skull, the cowgirl let out a grunt, trying to hit her harder and harder with each blow. There truly was no love for the villain in Dixie's heart, and the sooner she could wear her down, the sooner she could finish her off and give her a reminder of who she had picked a fight with.

Dixie kept striking at Doom, until the referee stepped over, yelling at Dixie to relent and let up, to get off of her. Dixie hated it, but she obeyed, sneering down at Doom while she stood back up again. Once she was standing, however, she leaned back down, reaching for Doom's arm, to pull her back up to her feet, too.

She tugged on the woman's arm to pull her up, then once she was standing, the cowgirl would try to swing her around, trying to throw Doom towards the nearest corner with a great big Irish whip!

Doom's body bucked and bounced every time Dixie's elbow came crashing into her skull. The brawler was convulsing with pain and rage at every strike, arms flailing uselessly as her frustrations mounted. The cowgirl's irritating tendency to get her shots with with such ... enthusiasm, was not something Doom was too eager to recall from their previous encounter.

Doom could barely hear the referee, as she seperated Dixie from her. Pushed her away, even, being so used to being on the official's shit list, herself. Shaking her head out, Doom nonetheless began struggling back up to her boots. Unsure of everything that was happening, it was all too easy for the curvaceous cowgirl to hoist Doom up to an unsteady base, and press her advantage.

The arena swung around Doom, everything a blur until Dixie's Irish whip planted her in the corner. "DAMN!" Doom exclaimed, as her upper spine hit the top turnbuckle. Writhing there a moment, Doom glared at her opponent. Still gathering strength, Doom attempted to prepare herself for the worst, realizing that Dixie still had full control of the match.