Josey Wales vs. Odessa Brock

Ride 'em cowgirl match: in order to win, one must place a saddle on their opponent's back and ride them for a bit.

Josey was playing her harmonica. It had been a long time since she had been in a match, but a very short time since she had been in a fight. Well, more like a brawl, but same idea. The tune she was wailing out was a sad one, which was basically the opposite of how she was feeling. The cowgirl was not the sort of woman to worry about nonsensical things like warming up or stretching before a match. That was the permit of professional wrestlers, women who were paid to put on a show. Josey was more the type of girl to fly into a rage and sate her bloodlust with heaps of unrestrained violence, and she did not see why tonight would be any different.

When she got the call, she felt she was likely to break her phone. All the promoters loved her cowgirl shtick, except when they found out it wasn't a shtick at all. Josey really was from the heart of the old west, and she really could do all the things that were associated with those who plied her trade across the plains in the American heartland. Yeah, she really could shoot a hole where the A is on the Ace of Spades. Yeah, she really could throw a hey bale up to the top of the heap when she needed to get work done. And yeah, she really could saddle a bucking bronco and ride that sucker for the whole 8 seconds. That did not mean she wanted to do it in front of thousands of screaming perverts though. And she never even considered that she was going to be the one being ridden. But hey, they were paying her to do the deed, and what she could take to the bank was far more than a little walking around money. The desperado could drain every bar in Tokyo with that fat wad of cash, and the one's she couldn't buy her way in to, she could punch her way into.

Josey stood up. She chucked her harmonica onto the nice little couch that came with her dressing room, and then started walking towards the door. Her dark hat and downturned head meant that no one could see her glowering red eyes, and her cowboy boots clanked the second she stepped out of the door. As she walked towards the staging area, a few people stopped and stared, both at her taut muscles and white and red bikini. A long black cape flowed behind her as she walked, portending the violent end of anyone who stood in front of her.

Her into music blared over the loudspeaker, and she was immediately met with a chorus of boos. She did not mind them, not one bit. The Outlaw approached the ring slowly, meticulously, eyeing the saddles that were placed outside of the ring. Josey slid under the bottom rope, and backed into her corner. With a flourish, she removed her cape and cowboy hat.

She had ridden tons of horses before. It was high time she had ridden a woman.

Odessa was no stranger to...well, to strange matches. She had contested plenty of them in her time as a wrestler, enjoyed them, and kept coming back for more. This one was a little different. She had never met the woman whom she was about to fight. And, unlike spanking or wedgie matches, she did not exactly have much experience riding horses—let alone being ridden. Clearly, the prospect of being utterly humiliated in the ring tonight was a real one that Odessa had to consider.

But so long as she could beat her opponent up, she needn't worry about losing. What she might want to hope for was an opponent with a sense of humor, who would laugh with her about the sheer ridiculousness of the match stipulations—and, eventually, join with her in recognizing the innate, bizarre sexiness of it, as well. Having to fight a grouch tonight could make this match a lot more nerve-wracking than it had to be!

Odessa watched her opponent enter the ring. The woman didn't exactly look friendly. Well, as much as Odessa preferred making nice with her opponents, giving them a hard-fought but friendly match, but if she had to get down and dirty, she would do so without hesitation. As her powerful music kicked into gear, the Londonite would emerge, wearing her boots and leotard in black and white, her attire showing off dangerous, toned brown legs and accentuating her Venus-like body. As the crowd roared their approval, Odessa made her way briskly down into the ring, swinging smoothly into it just underneath the top rope.

As she straightened up, she gave her opponent a smile, then glanced around to all of the saddles. Enough for a few tries at it, if she couldn't stay on top of her opponent for long enough. By the end of this match, the cowgirl would have to be broken!

Josey never changed the look on her face the whole walk down. The cowgirl maintained a stoic, menacing look, staring down the beautiful mocha girl with a quiet fury. Her fists were clenched and her legs flexed, almost imperceptibly. The deeper reptilian parts of her brain wanted to ride this woman in more ways than one, and Josey was going to do her damnedest to make sure that came to pass. If that meant fighting outside the laws of common decency, so be it.

The Outlaw sneered when Odessa smiled at her. Josey was all business, but apparently this woman was here to have fun. A fight was not supposed to be fun. It was supposed to be a clash of pride and strength, leaving one woman bruised and broken on the floor and the other riding away triumphantly. On the unforgiving plains of Texas, she fought because she was hungry, because someone was picking on her, because something far worse would have happened if she hadn't. The Outlaw was not going to let this woman treat the situation like it was a joke.

Least of all, because she would not let this woman teach her as a joke. The bell went off, portending doom for one of the women. Josey barrelled forward, throwing caution to the wind. Odessa's legs were mighty impressive, Josey could not deny that. But her own legs were on display then as she charged across the ring at her pretty opponent. They flexed as she brought them up, flared as she brought them down. The Outlaw was a one woman stampede.

And that whirlwind was coming straight at the British woman. Without much rearing back, Josey shot her fist forward into that nice and toned belly of Odessa's. All toreadors know that smiles draw the ire of bulls.

Odessa was glad that she had a couple years of equestrian experience during her childhood. Not nearly as much as she would have liked as she faced down an American rancher in a "ride 'em cowgirl" match, but enough that she could say she knew what she was doing when she was perched on the back of a stubborn animal. Judging by the look that her tall blonde opponent was giving her, she was going to need every bit of that experience, and more.

"Well, I guess there's no opportunity to shake hands and wish each other a good fight," Odessa would scoff, knowing when she didn't have a chance of breaking through an opponent's cold, cruel shell. In the back of her mind, she kept up some hope. Liberty hadn't come around until after their second match with each other, but the two of them had become fast friends from that point forward. Maybe Josey would ease up after Odessa kicked her ass and got to chatting her up when there wasn't a match to be won.

The bell rang, and the cowgirl wasted no time in coming after Odessa. She launched herself forward, charging straight at Odessa, not bothering with strategy or subtlety. She was like a bull, charging forward with reckless abandon, looking to gore Odessa on the first pass. But Odessa knew what it took to be a good toreador. A certain song from Carmen, remembered from her childhood at the theaters on the West End, came to mind as Odessa turned sidelong towards Josey, allowing the blonde's fist to skim just by her side, and her body to keep barreling forward on inertia.

Then, the London woman spun around and would follow her foe, trying to time her pursuit to end just as the woman hit the ropes. With any luck, Josey would turn around, and Odessa would lunge and swing a forearm forward, aiming to smash it hard into her foe's upper chest to stun her! Even if Josey didn't turn, getting hit with a forearm across her shoulders should still shock her!

Josey could not stop herself. Here, in life, at the bar, anywhere. Once she got going, it was all downhill. For a girl in Friction, she certainly had a lot of momentum, and here it ended up biting her in the ankle. Josey's daring charge totally whiffed, much to her annoyance. Just as Odessa sidestepped her, she gritted her teeth. No, of course we won't be shaking hands and wishing each other a good fight. The only thing I will be shaking is your brain in your skull, and the only wish you get is the wish for you to rest in peace, she thought. The Outlaw kept going for the ropes, as that was the only recourse she really had.

Still her mind raced. She would be coming off the ropes with all the force she could possibly bear, which meant nothing for bad news for this beautiful woman who had the misfortune of being her opponent. While her mind was churning with atavistic fury, her opponent was hot on her heels, unbeknownst to the cowgirl. She bounced right off the ropes to find Odessa smack dab in front of her. The only thing she had time for was opening her eyes nice and wide in quiet panic.

And then came the pain. The blow hammered her chest and nearly dropped her. Josey had felt powerful strikes before, but that had Odessa's power and Josey's acceleration behind it. She staggered from the strike, grimacing with pain. Even the sound of it was impressive, as the noise reverberated around the arena several times before the noise of the crowd drowned it out.

But Josey was not softly made. She stood all the way upright after a second, and launched another punch, this one more precise. It was a rapid straight right, aimed straight towards Odessa's jaw. If it was strikes she wanted, it was strikes she would get. Shouldn't have brought a knife to a gun fight, Josey thought.

Odessa noted, in that split second before impact, the way her opponent's eyes opened wide in instinctive panic. That was quite the pleasant sight to see—this woman who had already proven herself to be something less than friendly being reduced to a scared little girl in that one terrifying moment when she knew a tremendous amount of pain was on its way. Odessa grinned as her forearm crashed hard into Josey's upper chest, rattling her ribcage, making the cowgirl stagger backward, her face contorted in a visage of pure pain as she tried to deal with that brutal blow.

The cowgirl didn't go down, nor did she stagger backward all the way into the ropes. Odessa had been hoping for the latter, though she had had no illusions about the former. Despite the absolutely brutal force delivered to her chest, Josey remained on her feet—and retaliated with a sudden right straight into Odessa's cheek! The audience was treated to another sickening smack echoing through the arena as Josey's fist drilled into Odessa's face, causing a blossoming of pain in the Briton's jaw, snapping her head to the side and sending a little bit of spittle flying.

Odessa was staggered by that punch, her leg quivering as she took one step back. But she was not about to give any more ground than Josey was. If the cowgirl wanted a fistfight, she was going to get a fistfight! Odessa managed to plaster a smirk back on her aching, throbbing face as she stepped forward again suddenly, bringing her right fist roaring upward, pumping like a piston right up into Josey's chin for a brutal uppercut!

Crack. The sound of bone on bone was always a pleasure to Josey's ears, especially in the current circumstances. It made up for the fact that her first blow totally failed, and Odessa got the first lick in. The cowgirl knew that it was going to take a lot more than that to redeem herself, and even more on top of that to bring this girl down on all fours, but the Outlaw could not help but feel a little bit content with seeing Odessa's pretty little head snap to the side and spit fly from her mouth.

She was bringing herself back together, and getting ready to launch another blow when Odessa stepped forward. This was still a wrestling match, not a fist fight, and Josey made herself ready to be grabbed. Only Odessa had no intention to grapple with the cowgirl. The beautiful dark skinned girl launched a devastating uppercut right through the pocket, and Odessa's fist slammed into Josey's chin. Immediately, Josey's head jolted backwards as if she had been struck by lightning. The Outlaw flopped backwards, but the rope held her up.

And the top rope even served to spring her forward a little bit. That blow cleared out all of the cobwebs and gave Josey new direction, new vision. One step forward was enough to get her free of the ropes. She brought all of the force in her body around in created a focal point in her elbow, and the spinning blow was aimed at exactly the same place her punch was: Odessa's jaw. It was said the gunfighters of the Old West could catch bullets. Time to see if Odessa could do the impossible.

The cowgirl was obviously someone for whom a wild brawl was virtually second nature. Odessa was not quite cut from the same cloth, but she could easily hold her own against AFW's toughest in whatever sort of match she so desired. Odessa had used her fists to pummel Cecilia into defeat more than once, and she could do this to Josey, too. And then, when she switched back to wrestling, Josey would not be remotely ready to compete with her. Odessa's uppercut smashed into Josey's chin and snapped her head upwards with a sound as loud as thunder. The cowgirl flopped back into the ropes, clearly reeling from the punch. Odessa moved forward.

Josey stepped forward into Odessa, the two nearly close enough to press together as their feet fought for position on the canvas underneath them. Odessa pulled her left fist back now, but Josey would use her rebound off the ropes to add to her momentum, swinging her elbow forward and smashing it into Odessa's face, eliciting a loud groan from the British woman as her head snapped to the side again, her cheek compressed against the bone underneath it, waves of force rippling across her skin. She sagged downward, her knees bending and wobbling.

Odessa took half a step back with her left foot and slammed it down on the canvas. She let herself bend downwards, low enough to have a good vantage point for her retaliation. She grit her teeth as she would surge forward again, aiming a hard, hard straight right into Josey's solar plexus to try to slow her down!

Josey's nostrils were flaring wide, like she was a bull about to stampede forward. In some sense, she was. She smelled blood from the elbow, and she was going to attack, attack, attack until Odessa was nothing but fine red mist in front of her. The Outlaw was happy to see that the strength of the blow nearly dropped the dark skinned beauty, and she was absolutely sure that another blow like that would knock the woman out, let alone drop her.

Just as she was getting another punch chambered, Odessa was acting. She launched a lightning quick blow that caught Josey right in the solar plexus. The cowgirl's eyes went wide, and she struggled for breath for a second, holding the spot that had been all but annihilated that spot. Josey staggered forward a bit, trying not to collapse to the mat. The first step was a tentative one, and Josey was leaning terribly precariously. The second step was a bit more focused, and got her on a more balanced level.


Josey used her more sure position to attack again. This time, she sent her leg forward and around to crash into Odessa's nice waist. The winded Outlaw was not a natural kicker, and the move was a bit awkward. But Josey was bringing enough force to start a tornado, in a manner she was very much accustomed to. The Texan was not happy, not one bit, and she was showing it in her own way.

If Josey wanted to believe Odessa was dainty and somehow wasn't durable enough to go toe to toe in the ring with her, then so be it. It would be Josey's funeral, not Odessa's, if she underestimated her opponent so drastically! The British woman was glad to be the "underdog" in this fight. When she bent, Josey seemed pleased with herself, but before she could throw a second punch Odessa nailed her right in the solar plexus.

With the wind knocked out of her, Josey was something less than an intimidating sight, and for a second it looked like she might go down to the canvas. But she caught herself on her second stumbling step, and, so balanced, retaliated, not with a punch or another elbow, but a vicious kick that smacked hard into Odessa's hip. The British woman winced and groaned as she was forced to stumble, that side of her body not supporting much weight. She dragged herself a step with her other foot, then pivoted so that it faced away from Josey. Already bending over from the repeated blows, Odessa had a good vantage point for her next attack.

The exchange of blows had nearly put both women on their asses, but Odessa knew that Josey was a tough nut to crack. If she could get her foe down on her back, then Odessa would have a golden opportunity to take the lead. And she thought she might be able to do just that. The Londoner would throw herself forward, trying to slam her shoulder into Josey's belly and tackle her down onto the canvas, before throwing her own body on top of the cowgirl's in a straddle!