Rekka Aizawa and Bashira Matsumoto vs. Halloween Sonohara - It's Terror Time Again

”Uh. Uuuuuuh.” Halloween snorted a few times, trying to cleanse her nose of the nasty Rekka smell. ”You know you’re supposed to bathe before each match, right? Common goddamn courtesy…”

Seriously. She was gonna be smelling the redhead for days after this.

That was the least of her worries, though, and she was all too aware of it. If Rekka was a small-sized woman, Halloween was a happy meal, tinier than tiny, and there were a limited number of good hits she could take. If she wanted to win this match - and holy fuck, did she - than she was going to have to do a lot more hitting and a lot less getting hit. With that Camel Clutch, she was already falling behind.

The sooner she got up, the better. One hand on the mat, then the other, and…

The first thing she noticed was the pain, the immense pain, coming from her crushed digits, making her yelp out and roll away. It was only an instant after that when she realized that it came from Rekka’s stupid boot. The little bitch stomped her hand. ”God, Rekka, you suck! You absolutely suck!”

Oh, she’d be remembering that move.

But for now, the top priority was getting back up, since Rekka had firmly established herself as the ‘kick-em-when-they’re-down’ type. Which, being fair, so was Halloween, and it just established how important the distance was. Rolling away, she moved under the ropes and onto the apron, pulling her way up the ropes with her good hand while she flexed the fingers in her other back to life.

*SniffSniff* Alright Rekka needed to confirm something before this match progressed one solitary iota. Just what the hell was Halloween blabbering about in regards to her personal hygiene? Being a bonafide biker badass meant adhering to the sacred code all members followed. One of the rules stating that once a month baths are mandatory. And if you don't have access to a clean source of water, than light spritzing from whatever source will do just fine. Rekka's monthly bath happened two weeks ago, so she figured she was good to go. Still, she concernedly started sniffing her right hand, the one Halloween was bitching about...

...and found nothin. Zilch. Nada. Unfortunately this was just a result of the phenomenon when people just can't smell themselves. The Little Hellion shrugging her shoulders and nonchalantly started scratching her sweaty and equally rank smelling armpit before continuing to stalk HW from behind. "Aw, Qué pasa, mamacità? Think I might just be too hot for you to handle, chica~..." She mockingly swayed her hips in a manner similar to Halloween did earlier before compounding the embarrassment of actually losing to Rekka by reaching down through the middle and top ropes for a muffled handful of HW's face. The same odorous hand from before reattached to HW's face, with another hand tugging on one of Halloween's pigtails to drag her sorry ass back inside the ring.

This was starting to get a little frustrating. If Halloween had any chance of winning this match and taking down the King Kong sized problem that was chomping on candy at ringside, then her only real chance was to put Rekka down superfast. But that wasn’t happening, because the little punk had to ruin the whole idea by being, well…competent. Like, she didn’t wasn’t the greatest wrestler in the AFW by any stretch of the imagination, but she wasn’t all talk, either. Like, 90% talk. Maybe 80%. Enough to be a real problem, one that she was having serious trouble solving.

And then the bitch hit her with Spanglish. Ugh. That was always irritating, but coming from that mouth, with that attitude, and that big, dumb face? Nope. Nope, she wasn’t taking that.

Rekka reached over and snatched her up by the face and the pigtails, making her hiss as her hair was yanked and gagged as the dirty mit covered her nose. It was kind of a good thing, though, because the combo was enough to heat her up, getting her woke enough to throw some retaliation her foe’s way.

”Cállate!” She jerked up and threw her arm up behind her, a wild attempt to clock her foe in the face with an elbow.

Halloween could thank seventh and eighth grade Spanish glasses for what was ostensibly the summation of all of Rekka's knowledge of the language. Well, that and repeat viewings of Scarface whenever it came on television. But it seemed like Halloweenie was learning all sorts of delightful factoids about Rekka tonight, including that the red-haired imp can be surprisingly capable in the ring when it came to stretching bitches out, cracking some knuckles, and basically putting them on shameful showcase. Just like she'd been merrily doing to the holiday-themed fan favorite currently scurrying and scrambling off to the ring apron.

"Where you think you're going, eh? As much as I love to see that scrawny backside of yers as yer scuttling off in fear like a lil' bitch, you still got one Grade-A asswhopping comin yer way..." Rekka maliciously stated after getting a tugging grip on HW's pony-tail and pieing her adversary's face. Afterward taking great pleasure in attempting to guide her back inside only to get thwacked upside her head by an errant elbow strike right to the side of her noggin. Rekka backpedaling in seething discontent after twirling herself about, massaging the sore spot on her head as she fought her lopsided vision in attempting to face HW once again.

God, Halloween had almost forgotten how much she fricking hated it when people grabbed her pigtails. She supposed it couldn’t be helped at first - two pigtails, two hands, the perfect way to lift her up, she could see the logic. It happened a lot back home when she was starting out, but as time went on and she made friends and complained about the referees not doing their job right, it had tapered off. She supposed it shouldn’t have come as big as a surprise, not with goddamn Rekka, but WOW, was it irritating.

Luckily, she’d have a chance for some payback. And she wouldn’t have to wait too long for it, either.

The blow landed right on, and it was enough to send her foe staggering back. And wouldn’t you know it, she just so happened to be in the right position for a move that Halloween had been so anxious to debut in Japan. No time like the present.

She dipped down, grabbed the middle rope, and took aim, locking in on Rekka. The moment the redhead turned around, she launched into action, pulling herself through the ropes and flying forward with open arms, looking to hit her opponent square in the chest with her signature move: The Jump Scare.

Oh, and it wouldn’t be complete without her favorite flourish for it. ”Boo!”

Well it certainly wasn't Rekka's fault that Halloweenie had such uniquely snatchable hair, the type that she couldn't help but wanna yank, stretch, and tussle around just to irritate the hell out of her loathed archest of enemies. Seeing that smug little face of Halloween's getting decked and twisted in grimacing misery was a sincere delight that The Little Hellion was taking every opportunity in enacting. Including using those flopping pig-tails of hers as outright motorcycle handlebars that the punk biker girl was gleefully tugging back on before getting blindsided by the swiveling elbow strike.

"...HRGH...Gahdammit, ya cheatin, shitty little, backstabbin..." Rekka snarled out as she massaged the side of her noggin from the impact that had her disoriented and on spaghetti legs twirling her all about, her head still throbbing as she started running out of spiteful remarks for Hallow. Whom she started to face before getting speared right out of her flame designed boots, H.W. tackling Rekka back down to the canvas with ring-shaking emphasis and audience popping adulation. The wrecked biker-girl springing back up to a seated posture for a hot second before schlumping over onto her front side, grimacing and grumbling with her cheek mushed against the canvas with a reflexive kick up of her leg.

One of the cool things about being so small? It made it easy for Halloween to turn herself into a living missile.

With the ropes aiding her flight, she crashed into Rekka hard. It wasn’t the most pleasant journey on her end, either, since her opponent had a surprisingly solid body to work with - as much of a punk as the redhead was, she wasn’t poorly built. But she wasn’t strong enough to keep Halloween from bringing her walls crashing down, and it made for a good splat after.

The two of them fell, with Halloween going into a tumbe right after, rolling head over heels twice before she came to a stop. She looked up just in time to see Rekka’s legs flopping up, leaving her flat on her face. Wide open, too.

Most times, she would play to the audience, have a little fun, work her opponent over, milk things. Most times she wasn’t stuck in a gauntlet match with a pending bout against an opponent who weighed more than three of her put together.

So instead, she scrambled over to Rekka’s fallen body, flipped her over, grabbed her leg and pulled it in for a tight pin. ”1…!”

If only Rekka had the breath in her lungs and clarity of mind to concentrate on anything else besides the abject soreness in her defined abdomen from being shoulder tackled inside out. She'd have plenty to say to this twin-tailed puke about how the slingshot spear was just a lucky cheapshot, or that she dresses like a walking billboard for a slutty version of Hot Topic, or particularly disparaging remarks about how ugly her mother was. Schoolyard smack-talk aside, the hellion was dying to vent her anguish somehow. But the 1-2 punch of offensive maneuvers from Halloween had left Rekka rattled and speechless...except not in the amazed beyond words, way.

Whatever she could say would probably be muted out anyway amongst the cheering pop from the audience over the unconventional pounce of an attack. Rekka shielding her breadbasket after tossing herself over and started gagging up some chortled coughs in the meantime, only somewhat starting to breath normally again when she was flopped back over and hooked into a tight pin attempt that easily earned Halloween the TWO count. Except that with the referee's hand in mid-fall an instantaneous jolt to Rekka's shoulder hoisted it off the mat to the disappointed uproar of fan's beginning to divert some boo's to the poor referee.

”Staythefuckdownyoufuckingredheadedstepchildbitch-”

Sadly, Rekka did not acquiesce to Halloween’s rather simple request.

No, instead she had to be some facsimile of a competent wrestler, and kicked out of her pin, robbing Halloween of the quick victory. She let out a long growl and blew one of her pigtails away from her face, not bothering to hide her frustration. She threw a glance towards the walking mountain of a woman at ringside, still chowing down, a heap of trouble that was only going to get harder to deal with the longer this match went out.

Be smart, Yuki. Figure this out.

”Okay, carrottop, it’s gonna be like that. Okay, okay.” She whistled a few random notes from some song she heard as a kid, couldn’t even remember it, as she grabbed Rekka’s arm and stood. She move around her opponent’s body and used the arm as a handhold, tugging hard to flip the slightly bigger woman over. She kneeled on Rekka’s back, trapped the arm underneath her knee, and pulled the leg up under her own arm, going for a Boston Crab variation that had been oh-so popular where she came up in Mexico - the Tequila Sunrise.

Call it the contemptible disdain Rekka has festering within her for Hallow, or perhaps Rek's inherently pugnacious and bad-tempered demeanor. Regardless of the reason, even after having just been speared out of her socks, the fire-haired brawler still managed to scarcely usurp the pin attempt fastidiously locked on to her mere seconds after the sling-shooting tackle. Once again denying H.W. the satisfaction of another swiftly attained win. Although given how she continued her hacking rasped breathes, or failure to notice her lifeless frame being flipped over by her arm, it was one small victory she may not have even realized she attained. A defiant rebuttal still being muttered back up at H.W. who knows not the plight of ginger-haired people the world over.

"...*cough*...I'll show you carrot-top, you skanky bitch-ass Pippi Longstocking-HEYHEYHEYOWOWOWOW!!!!" Rekka squirmed and fidgeted but was ultimately locked into the excruciating submission with effortless ease, signaling the ruffian to start howling out in abject misery with her sole free hand flailing about in a frantic panic. Seconds ticking off the clock with precisely zero progress being made in escaping or reaching the ropes until what appeared to be her hand arising with wobbled tremors as if she were about to tap to the Halloween Terror, instead was balled into a defiant fist that thwacked the canvas as she she began soldiering upward. Once a few inches off the ground, a kick from her free leg would start the arduous trek towards the bottom rope. Now becoming closer with each repeated vault...