Culture Clash: British Bombshells vs. The Hoots (Debut Match)

Backstage, the British Bombshells were doing there final stretches, waiting for the announcer to call them out to the entrance ramp.  Bouncing up and down on her heels, Gemma Faraday rolled her head back and forth to keep her neck limber.  Leaning against the wall, Holly Matheson was letting her trainer, Gato Blanco, massage her thick thighs, readying her for action.  In a few moments, an AFW producer leaned around the corner, and waved them along.  It was time.

[/url]

Blanco gave Holly a firm slap across the backside, and nodded them along.  "You've got this," he said, with confidence.  The glance between the two Brits, however, seemed to imply otherwise.  This was the public debut of the British Bombshells tag team, and the glare that passed between Gemma and Holly had anything but the implication of comraderie.

Still, with a sashay in their step, the two Brits stepped out to the entrance ramp.  Both of them fairly well-known in AFW, the crowd cheered loudly for them.  Their figures were a contrast, however: Gemma was leggy, svelte, her firm figure decked out in quirky, "punk" attire.  Holly, meanwhile, was a buxom and curvaceous young woman, dressed to the nines, looking as poised and pretty as one could be while preparing to head out and beat the living daylights out of their enemies.  Still, the pair of them clasped hands, and raised them high as their entrance music rang through the arena.

The two young women walked together, to the ring.  They soaked in fan cheers, letting everything from genuinely appreciative fanboy chants to ridiculous cat calls wash over them.  They walked out to the ring with swaying hips and a certain, enticing dignity that kept the fans attention, right to the ring.  Then, reaching ringside, they got in.  Holly stooped over, scooping Gemma into both arms before mounting her onto her shoulder.  The dark-haired girl stepped onto the steel stair, using it to get her and her partner up to the ring.  On Holly's shoulder, Gemma posed dramatically, soaking in the fan cheers.

Then, as they got onto the ring apron, Holly gave Gemma a light toss over the top rope to put her into the ring.  Holly ducked into the ring, joining her friend.  The two of them posed dramatically in the center of the ring, showing off their looks as they smiled and winked coquettishly to the fans.  Any second now, their first opponents were going to be entering the arena.  The British Bombshells did everything they could to be as poised, pretty and ready as they could, for those young women.

Leaning over the top rope, both of the Brits watched the spectacle of their opponents' entrance with slacked jaws. "What?" Holly asked, not breaking her gaze from the two waitresses for a moment. The two British Bombshells looked on in disbelief, taking in every moment of the peppy entrance music, the bouncy waitresses, and the impressive pump of the tee shirt gun.

"Lordy," Gemma said, her head cocking to one side, quizzically, "they're about as ridiculously curvy as you are, aren't they?"

"Schtum," Holly commanded, curtly. "Have you ever been to Hooters of Nottingham?"

"Dear God, no," Gemma said.

"Good," Holly said, "this tag team doesn't have to disband. And we're not going to Hooters of down the street, after we beat these twits' bums, are we?"

"Good Lord, of course not. In fact, avoiding such a fate is probably the most motivated I've ever felt to win a bloody match in my life."

The two of them continued to banter, as the Hoots made their way down to the ring. At the ref girl's prompting, the British Bombshells backed off of the ropes. Holly shot a mean glare at the Hoots, shaking her head disdainfully. Gemma, meanwhile, began to wave their opponents into the ring.

"The only way you're getting us into your squalling den of fried rubbish," Gemma said, "is if you drag our unconscious bodies in there! So how 'bout you get in here, and we put the focus back on some bloody wrestling, luv? Come on!" The crowd popped a bit for Gemma's enthusiasm to get the action started. Holly headed back out to the ring apron, ducking between the middle ropes, letting her partner start the match off. Gemma, meanwhile, leaned forward, bouncing on her heels, just itching for the match to get underway.

Leaning against the ropes on the ring apron, Holly couldn't help but scowl, as the Haru taunted her. "Don't you dare laugh at that," she said to Gemma, fixing her with a glare. Naturally, Gemma made certain that her 'subtle' smirking was all the more obvious. "Fine, then!" the curvier Brit said, throwing her hands up. "You get such a kick out of these two, maybe we should take them up on our offer, hmm? If one of us takes the pin or taps, then that one gets to sit down to a plate of sauce-slathered, deep-fried 'food.' And the other gets to film!"

"I'm vegetarian!" Gemma protested, smirk immediately disappearing.

"That's motivation, then," Holly said, with a smirk of her own forming as if she'd plucked Gemma's right off her face. The pair of them exchanged a harsh look, right through the opening bell, and right up to the moment that Haru snuck up, and trapped Gemma into a tight headlock.

"Oops!" Gemma wailed, as her face was ground against Haru's body, snugly. She dropped her center of gravity, a bit, going low, causing her bottom to stick out a bit as she took a wide stance. "Rrghh," she growled, frustration bubbling over as she realized she'd just let herself get hooked like a rank amateur. Backing off, Gemma tried to dislodge her little, white-haired head from Haru's grip, try to shift into a rear waistlock. If the hold was on tight enough, however, Haru would be able to keep control, and do whatever she wanted to the poor Brit.

Somehow, trapped firmly in the headlock, Haru's reassurances didn't do much to help Gemma feel better. A situation that deepened the smirk on Holly's lips, even as the Brit was beginning to grow more concerned for her partner's chances. "Come on, Gemma! Show that tarty little waitress up, already!"

Despite having her head trapped between Haru's bicep and her soft chest was keeping things a bit muffled, but not so much so that she couldn't hear her partner's 'motivation.' "Come- off it!" Gemma grunted, her frustrations getting the better of her. When Haru released, the Brit was relieved. She went to snatch the wrestling waitress in a quick Irish whip, only to find that Haru was already on her way to the ropes.

"Catch her!" Holly shouted from the ropes. The curvier Bombshell had perched herself there with her hands there on the top rope, hanging her torso over to shout into the ring. "You're meant to be the fast one!"

"Look here," Gemma said, turning her head back to snap at her partner. Before she could finish that thought, however, the fleet Haru was already back on her end of the ring, flying into the air and landing with her toned legs wrapped around Gemma's head. "H-hey!" Gemma said, just managing to stammer out the words as she felt Haru's toned legs clench on her head, then come thrusting against her. Without the strength to resist, Gemma found herself getting tossed end over end! Boots in the air, Gemma's head was planted into the ring mat hard. Gemma's body stayed upright, for a second, drawing a laugh from the crowd, before she fell limply to the mat.

Holly, meanwhile, dropped from her perch. Turning around, the darker-haired bombshell turned away from the in-ring action, looking as though she might be realizing her own hand in what had just befallen her partner.

Laid out and mounted, Gemma couldn't help but roll her eyes at Haru's keen eye for product placement opportunities. Still, the Hooters-branded wrestler was on top, as humiliating as that was to admit, and she was still reeling too hard from that frankensteiner to do anything about it. "Uuhnn ..." Gemma moaned, as Haru wiggled on Gemma's chest, her reassurances of a vegetarian menu doing absolutely nothing to alleviate her worries about the post-match bet. Gemma's face reddened, as she felt her chest squished a bit by Haru's pert bottom; there was no way she was sitting down to a plate of hot wings tonight, dammit!

At ringside, Holly was looking back at the action, chewing her lip worriedly. Sight unseen, Holly had imagined the Hooters girls couldn't be that great at wrestling. Right? They were waitresses, for pity's sake! Waitresses from a cheesy American boob bar, no less! Gemma had the edge on Holly in experience, but was her technical wrestling up to par? "Gemma!" Holly shouted, leaning her upper body over the top rope, hand extended, "Tag me in! I can take this little bimbo!"

Getting out to a tag wasn't nearly as easily said as done, however, as Haru was already off her mount and pulling Gemma up to a seated position. Gemma reached out with one hand, eager to get out of the ring and collect her thoughts for a moment, but Haru had other plans! Looking down, Gemma watched in shock as Haru grapevined her legs, pulling her spread-eagle. "Aaaaooowww!" Gemma let out in a wail, her toned thighs trembling as she fought and failed to push back against the agonizing stretch. Gemma's pretty face contorted into a pained grimace, as Haru locked in the full nelson and managed to completely trap the steampunker. "D-dammit-!" Gemma groaned, as Haru hoisted her up into the air, powerless to resist the move as the blue-haired Hoot took full control of her.

"Oooh," Holly mumbled, as she watched Gemma get pulled into the air. Gemma blushed deep red as she hung there, legs splayed out in full view of the crowd, her chest hanging precariously close to popping out of her top as Haru hefted nearly upside down. Then, suddenly, Haru rolled back, slamming Gemma's tailbone down hard onto the mat! Not just once, but twice, repeating the compromising position and the brutal impact onto the mat! "Oww~w!" Gemma whined, arms flailing uselessly over her head in pain and frustration. Holly left her hand extended into the ring, but stopped calling as loudly for a tag. Perhaps she wasn't quite as hurried to get into the ring as she thought. "Wear her down, Gemma," she shouted, "just try to outlast her!"