Josey Wales vs. Patrice Juillet

Match will take place in a cage in the middle of a body of water. Win by throwing your opponent out of the cage.

The letter that Zulime wrote was a very flowery one. She crossed all her t's and dotted all her i's, and put a lot of effort into it. All the education that her parents had dumped on her from a very early age was on display. The Riverboat Queen knew a bunch of ten-dollar words. When she sent the letter to Josey, and also to the staff at AFW, she had high hopes for it. She had watched Josey from afar, and seen all the trouble that she was for a whole bunch of women. The Riverboat Queen had found the woman she wanted to punish the blonde woman. In this wild Texan, Zulime had found the anvil upon which Patrice would be smashed. She was in awe as she watched the destruction that unfolded in some of her matches. And she put that respect in her letter.

After she read the first line, Josey crumpled it up and threw it out. The Outlaw was never one for reading. The only thing she understood was violence. On the very first line, Josey read a call for a match, and that was quite sufficient for her. When she arrived at the arena, she learned that the match type was a little bit out there. She didn't know exactly what bone this Zulime woman had to pick with this French lady, but whatever it was, it was bad. She walked out onto the little row that connected land with the ring. It couldn't have been more than a thousand fans sitting in the ringside bleachers, and nothing to play her music. The cowgirl was fine with that. She was not here for all the hooplah that surrounded wrestling. Josey was just here to beat a woman until she was black and blue. Maybe past that.

She opened the cage door, and shut it behind her. Josey backed into her corner, and slung herself with her arms on either side of the ropes. The blonde woman wanted this woman to come out, so that she could size her up and judge how to most effectively rip this woman limb from limb. She stood still. The Outlaw had already warmed herself up, and there was no point in doing anything bouncy. The crowd were already impressed to see a muscled, slightly crazed woman enter the cage without showing the slightest hint of fear, and it was never like Josey to sell herself with sex.

Zulime, on her part, was watching from home. She had a glass of wine in her hand, and was wearing nothing more than a bathroom. The Riverboat Queen had selected the match type, the opponent, and the venue. Now it was time to watch Patrice get the vengeance she so badly deserved.

The Cajun girl just wanted to see how long Patrice could hang out. Given Josey's demeanor, she was confident it would not be long. She took a sip of red wine.

Patrice Juillet had already practically forgotten about Zulime Lafitte. Reason behind the fact was not as much the time passed since their last encounter in the AFW arena, as much as her eagerness to leave all that had taken place between her and the Cajun girl behind her. The history of the two wasn't pretty.

Not at least on Trice's opinion. The little feud at the jazz club, where it all had started, had still been quite fine. A little battle of honor. Unfortunately, the second round of that battle of honor which had followed was not. Despite of her best efforts, the slender French blonde had not managed to prevent the thicker Southern girl from crushing, beating, cuffing, carrying, and disgracing her body in front of the AFW audience. In lingerie.

To make matters worse, the whole affair had included a POW stipulation. One that Zulime, somewhat surprisingly, had decided not to use. Not in the traditional sense anyway... Sure, she had laid out conditions on which the French Actress could avoid the fate. Sure, she had knocked her unconscious and left her stranded in an AFW campus corridor. But still, all she wanted to get out of her victory was seeing the blonde fighting in another match?

It was peculiar. Very peculiar.

And all the way until yesterday, Patrice had thought that the Riverboat Queen might not even put her through the match she had sworn to put her through. But then, she had received a letter:

"Dear Ms. Juillet,

at the request of Ms. Zulime Lafitte, you've been assigned a match for tomorrow. Please appear by the lakeside changing rooms by 5pm.

-Management"

Patrice Juillet - The French Actress:

As it turned out, the setup for the day's match had some significant pros. For the French Actress, varied settings, imaginative setups, and showy contests were always fascinating to perform in. And a cage in the middle of a body of water? Sure, that was something to experience.

However, while experimenting with some of her cosplay outfits sounded like an attractive proposition, her standard attire became the choice of the day. After all, this was Zulime's setup, her idea, her demand. Thus, this was serious. Today Patrice would have a chance to pay the Cajun girl back some of the humiliation she had subjected her to, if she just managed to achieve victory. Today, she needed to win.

"So, one wins by throwing the opponent out of the cage. Is that understood, Ms Juillet?"
"Oh... OK. Sure. That's fine. I hope she's small then, eh?"

Patrice's nervous laughter was followed by the AFW employee's deafening silence, as he sent the French Actress on her way to the cage. It was easy to disregard though, as appearing in front of a new crowd always fired the blonde up! Just as usual, on the trip to the cage Trice had plenty of time to happily greet the crowds, throw out some poses, and do generally everything she could to convince everyone that she was their preferred competitor of choice today!

When she got to the cage, it all changed though. The blonde's demeanor abruptly became stern and serious, and as she opened the cage door and stepped inside, a whole new kind of nervosity began immediately taking over her. And not the least reason for that was finally finding out who her opponent was going to be today.

The sound of the official pulling the cage door closed behind her, and hearing the key locking it up was a whole lot more unnerving now. Patrice wasn't sure of her name, but she had seen her before. That distinctive outfit, that badass outlaw look... Yes, she appeared so sexy, so cool.

And so deadly.

Putting one's soul into a character was something that came naturally to the French Actress. Usually, it was a good thing. But when being paired up in a cage with the woman in front of her? It was very hard not to instinctively assume the role of a hapless victim. And today, Patrice could not affort it.

Still, seeing her opponent's demeanor signalled the French Actress that this was no time for handshakes, nor any exchange of words. Backing up into her own corner, the blonde merely sized her opponent up. And she realized some bad news. It was obvious, that the outlaw was considerably bigger than her. So how was she ever going to be able to throw her out of the cage?

Something to think about, and fast.

There were work horses, and there were show horses. Josey, through her multiple and egregious acts of violence, knew exactly which type she was, and knew exactly what sort Patrice was as well from the time that she stepped into the cage. A wicked sneer appeared across the cowgirl's face. This match was a stipulation from another bout that this blonde woman had lost. The Outlaw was the raging lion that some poor sod got thrown into in the colosseum of Rome, and the more she looked the actress up and down the more that she felt like a predator. She took a few steps forward, not really caring that Patrice might advance as well. This woman was putting on a good show of not showing that she was scared, but deep down on the inside she must have known. Josey was 169 pounds of Texan fury, and Patrice was not.

There was no greeting, no shaking of hands. Josey had very little patience for all that stuff, especially now. The only thing that Josey wanted at the moment was blood, and lots of it. She was not entirely sure what transgression that Patrice had committed, but she was standing there as if she were the avenging angel of some wrathful god, with the wind blowing her blonde hair a little to the side. Her red eyes glowered. She was ready to be the hammer.

The bell rang, and Josey started on a tear across the ring. As she got closer and closer to her opponent, she lowered the boom. The Outlaw was attempting to spear the blonde actress straight down into the mat. The cowgirl wanted to turn this cage into a slaughterhouse, and she wanted to do it from even the incipient stages of the mat. She was not sure what lesson she was trying to teach this woman, but Josey was going to make her learn the hard way.

This shouldn't have been a surprise, right?

This was AFW. There were all kinds of fighters in the league. Smaller, bigger, weaker, stronger, heroes, villains, cute idols, brutal beasts...and one was supposed to be ready to face them all. It was just the name of the game.

Besides, this match was per Zulime's request. She had sworn revenge. She wasn't going to choose a busty, slender babyface for that purpose, now was she?

No, that was Patrice's part to play tonight. And she knew very well how to play it. It was just that right now, she would not have really wanted to.

The careful eyes could have caught a subtle gulp on the French blonde's throat as Josey began taking some steps towards her. But the French Actress was not about to look like a coward. Taking the exactly same number of steps towards Josey too, Trice maintained a fearless expression, staying as silent as her towering opponent. All the way until the bell rang.

"Alors, good lu-... OOOFFF!!!" Trice's naive words were cut short, as the Texan wasted no time with getting the battle going. Sure, she would have never even attempted a handshake, but the speed of the Outlaw still managed to catch her off guard. It was less than five seconds since the bell had rung, but the French blonde was already reeling in the mat, downed by Josey's powerful Spear.

This was not good...

Patrice was saying something. It may have been something important, but there was zero way in hell that Josey was going to understand it. Josey was not even going to try to comprehend. There were more important things at hand, such as causing as much violence necessary until her blonde opponent could not move. And judging how the first move went, that would not be tremendously difficult. The Outlaw's shoulder slammed into Patrice with all the force that she could have mustered, and subsequently sent the actress down to the mat. Josey was in the driver's seat now, and she was going to capitalize on that.

It was funny to her how in the build up, Patrice had been somewhat expressionless. Josey's youthful smile faded after hundreds of long days on the farm, and returned to oblivion once she lost family member after family member. The blonde woman would have looked a lot nicer if she smiled, Josey reckoned. Her red eyes flashed with recognition. This woman belonged on a poster. But Josey never got anything that she had deserved. There was no justice for her, both in the perpetuation of criminal activity and as a victim of it, and Josey adjudicated that this woman had earned herself nothing but pain for having the temerity to be pretty.

She moved to get her legs on either side of Patrice for the mount, and then sent punch after punch down at the pretty woman. There was something effective in how raw those punches were, or at least there always had been.

Patrice was coughing and swearing, the latter inside her head, as she tried to scramble her body up from the mat. This was not good. This was disastrous. The stakes of this match were precarious to say the least in the first place, so why did she really need to start this match off like straight out of a nightmare?

Unfortunately for the French blonde, her nightmare was only beginning.

Before she could get her rear off the mat, her towering opponent had already decided to come mounting her. Which was a surprise, really. The woman had a significant size advantage, and most likely possessed a lot of strength, so why would ground game be her preferred choi-...

"AAAAGH!!!" Patrice had been looking her opponent from eye to eye, when out of nowhere a right hook punched her cheek, slamming the blonde's head right back to the mat. Immediately covering her face with her hands, it appeared that the answer to her question had just been delivered in the most brutal way possible.

The only thing worse was that it didn't stop there. No, instead the woman kept on punching her belly, her chest, anything that wasn't covered by her hand, really.

Which was only the best possible reason to keep those hands covering her face.

Josey was an automaton. The cruelty of the endless Texas plain robbed her of any innocence that she had. Josey had done far more brutal things than what she was doing now, and she did not have the luxury of having feelings when she had done so. This blonde woman was polite and full of hope and pretty. There was no way that she had seen the things that Josey had seen. Which was why Josey was astride her in the mount, and Patrice was doing what she could just to survive. Every single punch was a lightning strike cast down from Zeus in the high heavens, and had the same awesome power.

The Outlaw was quite satisfied with how this was going, but she was not going to be satisfied with simply this. She rose off her opponent, and moved to pick her up from the ground. From there, she would attempt to wrap her arms around Patrice and then bring her straight down with a quick belly to belly suplex. All of her weight was going to be slamming into Patrice, and Josey would feel no remorse for that.

Zulime took another sip of wine. It was sweet, she thought.

Why had Patrice ventured into wrestling in the first place?

She was a showgirl. Despite of being an actress, wrestling had provided her a way of putting on a whole different kind of show. An athletic, competitive and sexy show.

What was happening now was just violence. This was not what she had signed up for.

Yet there was no escape. Now her only option was to battle against this brutal, ruthless, monster of a woman. Who seemed to see her as having signed up to be her punching bag.

The French blonde's panic subsided slightly as Josey finally got up off of her, but by the time she had the courage to uncover her face, the Outlaw was already picking her up again. Unable to begin providing any resistance at all, the French Actress was quickly flying through the air, and crashing devastatingly back onto the mat. The girl could only reel there, totally caught off guard by how the match had gotten started.

It was just ironic that Patrice was probably the only one present who was actually surprised by how the events had been unfolding so far.

Josey was there, lying on top of her opponent. The Outlaw preferred the fairer sex, and had she been in a different situation she would have found this moment just as pleasurable, except that it would have been for different reasons. Instead, Josey got to expound upon her love of violence here. The belly to belly suplex had gone off swimmingly, and now she was in prime position to do as she had pleased. Josey got up from the ground, and looked at her opponent. Patrice was lying there, beautiful. Josey had been in front of a lot of women like this when she was drunk and the girl was drunk and what happened afterwards was amazing.

What was going to happen next would be just as amazing, but far more brutal. She moved to pick Patrice up, and heft her up onto her shoulder. She would attempt to fireman carry Patrice over to the cage wall and then threw her against the chain link fence. The cowgirl hoped that this would be a premonition of her eventually chucking Patrice into the water, but she was perfectly content to just throw Patrice into the metal and cause as much damage she could.

Zulime took another sip of win. She wondered how strong Josey was.

That fucking jazz club.

That fucking jazz club had been the cursed place where all this merde had begun. If she had never went there, she would have never been in this cage right now. She would have never had to face this monster of a woman, who...

OK, she was off of her now. She was away now. Now if only she could roll away just a few feet, just to gain at least a little bit of distance between them...

No such luck for Patrice. Even if Josey had admired her work for a moment, she wasn't going to let the blonde beauty escape. No, she was going to keep her firmly in hell.

For Trice though, the next destination appeared to be heaven. Quite literally, as Josey picked her delicate body up like a ragdoll, and placed her high on her shoulders. And it was not heaven just because it was close to the sky. No, in this match being carried on the shoulders was also the place that was close to getting thrown out of the cage. And that, that would have been the seventh heaven for Patrice right now.

And the cage wall was getting closer. Constantly closer. The French Actress hoped, she prayed, that Josey would have had enough. Oh how she wished that the brutal blonde wanted a quick and decisive victory, and she'd already become thrown over the edge.

But all her prayers gave her was a one-way ticket back to hell.

The blonde's body smashed against the cage wall causing a shattering sound before it fell back down onto the mat. "Shit..." Sitting against the cage wall, Patrice could have never even dreamed of getting back up after such an impact by herself in the next few minutes, and she knew very well that it could only spell further torture for her body in the meantime.