The Dasher Challenge : Part 3 - Too Close To The Sun

With Kei no longer having the wherewithal to overcome this grim situation with either her cackling comebacks or scurrying agility, matters had devolved into something the fans knew she had no hopes of winning. An actual wrestling match. With nothing between her and over two hundred pounds of very pissed off wrestling man-muscle. Most were expecting Kei to crumble to her knees from a slap that sounded like a shotgun being blasted off. The fact that she was standing had already earned her tons of props and respect from the crowd...and also worried sympathy after hearing her wailing scream. The majority of the people knew what she was about to endure if she didn't come up with something fast, and they largely weren't looking forward to it.

"Hmph...there's that look again. That same look the last two deluded shrews shot at me when they realized just how pathetic they were when they faced off against a real wrestler. Not some pissant beta male, but a real man." Dasher bellowed while locking his beady eyes downward towards his grimacing prey with the fiery indignation in her sights. All of the fun and games had seemingly been beaten out of her, Dasher thinking that the hand-sized welt on her boobs finally clued Kei in to the caliber of athlete she was standing before. But just in case, he had a career's worth of back-bending and body-slamming wrestling knowledge to help get the point across to her. Dasher than turning place to have his back before yanking her head by her dirty blonde hair under his sweaty armpit for a snug side-headlock.

"Well, you're about to have one more thing in common with them!!" Dasher bellowed out before tugging Kei out of the corner, hoping that it was obvious enough that the next similarity he was alluding to was going to be a brutal beatdown and a loss to the chauvinistic grappler. Dasher powered down on the headlock that had her stuck between a rock and a hard place. Those being his chiseled pectorals and his bulging bicep. Dasher than ominously raised his massive free hand into the air before clenching it into a looming fist, audience members already wincing their eyes shut before Dasher unleashed another dreaded maneuver...The Inoba Knuckle. A ruthlessly grinding noogie lasting for several agonizing seconds. A move meant to irritate, humiliate, whittle away...and in one odd case actually earn Dasher a submission victory.

Her scalp was set ablaze as Kei was dragged up from her slump, trailing behind Dasher with a stumble. Her dragging feet only served to worse the hold, bending her neck at an odd angle as she tripped and fumbled to try to take some of the pressure off. Her fingers grasped at him arm, trying to yank herself away like an animal stuck in a doggy door far to small for it.

The dig of his knuckles into her skull was far more painful than it had any right to be. She couldn't even see what he was doing but knew enough from her childhood to understand it was a noogie of some sort. She had received a few of these in her youth, though none were delivered quite this effectively. She let out a frustrated yell as she tried in vain to pull herself from his grasp.

"G-get off me you... Big ugly bridge troll!" She couldn't pull free. She couldn't pry herself free. Where was the referee? How visible was she? Kei had to take a chance. Things were going down hill so fast. She squirmed, pushing herself forward more INTO the headlock. It was a struggle, his flexed arm crushing her head like a grape. Kei did the only thing she could do now, burying her face into his forearm, obscured from sight, she opened her jaw wide to try and bite down hard on his arm. This was a taste she wouldn't soon be forgetting. Yuck!

Expectations for what Kei could actually accomplish in this match seemed to vary minute by minute. At first she was seen as a scantily-clad braggadocio who stood no earthly chance against the burly oppressor with the attention grabbing hair-do, until a serendipitous counter had put her within a hair's breadth of cranking a submission out of Dasher in record time. But now matters had come full circle and most audience members would just be content with her escaping the simple headlock and this match so she could live to wrestle another day.

Dasher's implementation of the rudimentary maneuver having his own muscled torque to it, one that no degree of feeble squirming or ineffectual grasping could have you escape from. The grinding knuckles digging into her scalp were typically preceded by what would be numerous uninterrupted closed-fist strikes to further wear away at his opponent. But unlike his other opponent's who had some modicum of honor for traditional grappling...

"RagH!!"

...Kei would just sink her molars into Dasher's forearm. Sending the muscled chauvinist stomping away after releasing the headlock and granting Kei the freedom she munched her way into getting. He gnashed his teeth while holding his masticated arm before repeatedly checking to see if the infuriating little imp had actually broken skin from her cowardly counter. The referee now begrudgingly admonishing Kei with her final warning this time. A low blow was one thing, but if the ref didn't start doing her job than she herself could wind up being fired or worse...being demoted into cleaning up after Hentai matches with mud and cake everywhere.

Even in release she wasn't fairing well. Set free from Dasher's muscular noose, she stumbled and collapsed to the canvas. She even lacked the grace to really even try to catch herself. Issued a final warning which didn't even register as she choked, gagging on a lingering taste of the bowl cut bandit now infecting her mouth. She spit right onto the mat, desperately wiping at her tongue with an arm band just to try and be rid of him.

She pushed herself up onto her forearms, one eye closed shut but the other glaring at Dasher as he checked his bite wound. She had hoped it hurt, a whole heck of a lot. She didn't regret cheating, after all in her mind the man was jacked up on steroids. He started this nonsense. Served him right.

"Nice try... Assher" She muttered, trying to sound tougher than she felt at the moment by channeling her inner badass. "But if you think a few dumb moves like that are gonna put me away, you got another thing coming...." She slowly began to rise, petite forming swaying as if a strong gust of wind could knock her down.

She extended her arm towards Dasher, a single finger pointing itself at him. Turning her hand over, she gave him a mighty thumbs down! "Tch. You can't beat me... I'm the best in the world." Perhaps something had been knocked loose in that noggin of hers. She was making some pretty big claims and it actually sounded like she honestly believed them. A hero always shines brightest in the darkest hour. Terada rule #183.

Whatever Kei was blathering on about was practically said into a vacuum. Dasher not registering one word of her delirious blabbering while he continued to make sure that the infuriating imp hadn't caused him to bleed thanks to those surprisingly sharp molars of hers. He honestly should have expected such a cowardly counter from this feeble-minded woman, someone who couldn't even wrestle her way out of a headlock. It only served to prove his point that women have no sense of honorary grappling who just scratch, claw, and bite their way out of wrestling moves.

He snarled his teeth and stomped his foot like a pouty child when he finally noticed Kei's rambling speech off out of the corner of his glaring beady eye. Her wobbly posture indicating that she was quite literally on her last legs. Most everyone in the audience were wondering if she had the energy to continue standing let alone continue fighting the brawling behemoth before her. It was as heroic a gesture that a stong-willed competitor could make. She was defiantly staring down insurmountable odds and even mocking her impending doom in a last stand that was inspiring enough to generate a decent swell of fan support. The good people still rooting for the chipper underdog in the skimpy cheerleader outfit~...

"OORIYAH!!!!"

...who wouldn't even be able to finish her last boast about being the best in the world before having a spinning and insanely powerful discus lariat aimed directly at her. The burly chauvinist pouring every inch of his muscled power into the clothesline to end all clotheslines.

"Tch. You can't beat me. I'm the be-huuuurk!" A whirlwind of arms and agony also known as dasher carved its way through her, catching her by complete surprise while bragging of her greatness. The sound had been sickening, snapping her head to the side, lifting her body completely off the ground to the point she was nearly horizontal before gravity and the force of his blow had taken her down to the canvas. Kei's figure landed cushioned with a loud thud that shook the entire ring with meteoric impact.

---

Kumi had long raven hair tied into a near braid, full lovely lips and shimmering blue eyes. She had what could be considered a timeless beauty. With an hourglass figure, she seemed to wear everything as if they were tailor made for her... she was also made of plastic. "Give her back! She doesn't like you... you... dumb butthead!" Suspended off the ground, the barbie doll was dangling just out side the reach of  Kei. Kumi had already lost a shoe in the scuffle, the heavy jostling at the hands of her captor threatened to fray her braid next.

"Make me, idiot." Tomo Higuchi was a ruffian, a thug, a bully, and only eleven years old. While only Kei's elder by three years, an early growth spurt had seen the slightly chubby boy rose to power during recess along with his personal goon squad of equally as gross boys. They were here now, egging the boy on and laughing at her. Former victims as well as her friends were in among the small circle of children who had caged the two in atop the blacktop, curiosity of sadism had brought them in to watch the king of recess put another person in their place. Kei's attempts to jump for her doll were met with very few results, so she instead chose to grab at Tomo's uniform, tugging at his blazer. With a solid shove, he easily threw her to the ground, hard enough to tear the edge of her skirt slightly and raw scrapes on ehr knee and palm almost immediately reddened.

Her lower lip trembled, tears welling up in her eyes as Tomo lowered teh doll down, looking as if he was giving it back. As she reached for it, the doll was pulled away at the last moment. "What a baby. Who even plays with dolls." With a flick of his wrist, Tomo sent Kumi up in the air in a wild spin. Her ornately designed dress, one Kei had spent her allowance to buy just last weekend fluttering as the doll helplessly plummeted towards the ground. Before Kumi could even touch the blackened earth, the large boy brought his leg around to boot her off into the distance. Sailing high, Kumi soared past the recess area's fence and into the road bordering the school where she bounced off the paved terrain, one leg snapping off to fly in the opposite direction.

One of Tomo's friends came up and clapped the larger boy on the shoulder as the two of them laughed. Kei wasn't laughing though, she was crying. Loud enough to catch the attention of a distant adult suddenly apart of the gladiatorial ring of children amassed on the blacktop. As Kei rose up to her feet, she charged at Tomo, tears streaming down her cheeks, arms flailing wildly. Peppered with slaps no more effective than a mosquito, the two had a brief scuffle before he had managed to grab her arms and toss her back to the ground. The yelling of a teacher nearing started to cause the crowd to trickle away, not looking to be caught up in the discipline that was about to be dispensed. Tomo didn't seem to care, he instead took this moment to lord over the small girl.

Reaching down, he gave one of the girl's pigtails a light flick, grinning. "Stupid lil baby girl, gonna cry to mo-UGH!" Tomo buckled inward as he let out a high pitched wheeze, eyes wide and twitching. Kei's tiny balled fist was planted firmly between the boys legs, one punch from this noodle armed little eight year old had brought the king of recess crashing to the ground. Tomo's friends weren't laughing anymore. The crowd of children gasped and cheered, packing tighter into the circle just as the teacher had arrived, making it difficult to push past. Kei crawled on top of the larger boy,  pummeling him with a barrage of slaps, punches, and scratches in a wild frenzy of grief. Any part of him she could get her tiny hands on, she was hitting as she sobbed loudly.

The teacher slipped through the ring, deftly scooping Kei up off Tomo who had curled up in the fetal position and had also began to cry. "I play with dolls! I DO!" She shouted over the tears, kicking and fussing as she was carried away from the scene. Two other teachers can rushing by to scatter the onlookers and check on the downed boy. "Who gets beat up by girls!?" She cried out, just before the door to the recess area closed in front of her.

---

Laid out on the mat she stared blankly up into the rafters, eyes glazed over and pupils jittering slightly. Her lips were parted slightly as she breathed quietly in a visible daze. She looked completely down and out. The brief and noble flame of heroic intentions had been snuffed out in an instant leaving her motionless and silent.

Fairy tales and other literary worlds of fiction are the forms of escapism where the world is crafted around the writer's whim. Where the harsh realities of the real world hold no sway, where every character had a role and purpose for the betterment of the narrative structure of the story, and where downtrodden heroes found a way to overcome and vanquish the evil antagonist before winding down into the epilogue. Villainous despots getting their just desserts was the most cathartic aspect of these stories since so often in real life this was not the case. It was an unsettling fact of life that was reaffirmed before the world's eyes as the hero of this story was dealt the finishing blow by the meat-headed grappler practically running through the valiant hero on her last legs.

A chilling pall of unease and silence swept over the normally vibrant masses after the lariat that looked like it knocked Kei back to third grade. Dasher himself continuing a windy stumble towards the ropes from how much locomotive momentum he rushed at her with. He turned his beady-eyed attention back towards the fallen hero as he ominously encroached upon her once more. His guttural breathes practically coming out as billowing steam from his flared nostrils. The vein on the side of his head and remorseless rage on his large-chinned mug implied what most audience members feared. That he wasn't about to let a little thing like Kei being unconscious prevent him from continuing his heartless onslaught.  

"GET UP AND FIGHT!!!!"

Dasher bellowed down as a bit of mockery before bending over to flip Kei over and straddle her lower back. After affixing her arms over his bent knees, he interlocked his meaty fingers right under her chin and applied his most dreaded Inoba Clutch finisher to what was nothing more than a lifeless ragdoll. The referee not even trying to go through the motions of asking for a submission as she already began signaling the bell to be rung, clearly seeing that Kei wasn't going to be resisting, submitting, or doing much of anything since she was clearly kayoed. A ringing bell, a booming voice announcing Dasher as the winner, and the merciful pleas of a referee all did nothing to curtail his bloodlust as he maintained the muscled torque Dasher put into the back-bending submission. He gnashed his teeth and jerked her up and down before swarms of personnel rushed into the ring to separate the burly behemoth from her. Dasher finally doing so after being practically pulled off with medical staff now tending to Kei.

Dasher held his arms up in sneering victory before exiting the ring accompanied by the students of his wrestling school. Virulent booing and disdainful jeering heralding the end of yet another Dasher Challenge...

Kei was gone. Her mind had slipped away to a far off place where Dasher couldn't reach her. The unfortunate truth was that even despite this fact, her body exited still within the ring with the bowl cut bruiser. Some would say she was prettier in defeat, laid out on the canvas like this. It was likely having to do with the empty almost serene look on her face... Or the fact she was no longer speaking.

Dasher's demands fell on deaf ears as she lay sprawled out across the mat. She didn't so much as twitch. Her body was rolled over, arm flopping down onto the mat as Dasher seated himself across her petite back. Her arms were guided easily into position, light and flimsy, draped over his legs to dangle lifelessly. Hands clamped under her chin, there was nothing to stop him.

It was disgustingly easy for the mountainous man to bend her unnaturally far back. Flexible by nature, he was able to wrench her back far enough it made some in the crowd look away while other gasped or cringed. If anything, it made the already brutal move look that much more devistating in his possession.  Her hair hung down over her dead eyed faced was he torqued her back, even as the match had been one. Unable to defend herself, there was no telling the amount of damage he was actually doing to her.

Once the two had been separated the medical staff had been quick to assess the situation. She was indeed out, completely. They checked her vitals, examined her for visible injury, and attempted to rouse her. When they were unable to really identify any issues or wake her from her lariat induced nap, they called in a stretcher to take her out.

As Dasher celebrated, a neck brace was slipped onto Kei's neck. Her petite body was transferred to the stretcher where the medical staffers moved her to the back for additional care. The camera had been sure to capture the long uneasy transport up the ramp before cutting back to Dasher. A grim reminder of anyone who dared to accept his challenge.