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

Oh, crap.

”Oh, crap!”

In training, back in Mexico, Halloween’s teacher had often harangued her about being a bit too eager in the ring. It was good to be confident, a great asset for a wrestler, but even the best had to exercise a little caution, now and then. Think before you leap, don’t trust too much in your instincts, that sort of thing. One day, that would bite her in the butt, they said. Fight smart, not hard, they said.

She ignored them back then, and she was kind of wishing she’d paid them more heed right now. Maybe, if she had, she wouldn’t have found herself heading towards an unavoidable faceplant. But she did ignore them, and gravity was far less kind.

Halloween managed to get her hands up at the last second, and that helped absorb some of the impact. Some. She still hit hard, and it left her loopy, on the floor, in close proximity to a woman who weight more than six of her put together and was now her opponent. Not good.

”Uuuuuh…” She started to groggily push her way up. ”Do-over?”

Being the gargantuan goliath that Bashira was meant that odds were high that she could become quite "gassed" earlier than most other competitors if she tried to outpace all of these other lightweight wimps in AFW, including the Mexican Jumping Bean currently diving straight towards her. Therefore, Bashira early on mastered the ancient art of outright laziness, getting the utmost from every action she takes, and doing as little as humanly possible. All of those tactics being on stupefying display as the Bear-Woman merely stepped to the side...and allowed Halloween to, fittingly enough, crash and burn as a result.

"...*munch*..." Bashira cast her unsympathetic gaze down at the floundering shortstack beside her, finishing her chocolate bar and tossing the wrapper over her shoulder as she started taking ominous steps forward and standing over the soon to be roadkill. "...Mmmmmno. But what's about to happen, is overdue." Bashira's left hand reaching down to clasp onto Halloween belted waist, and stunningly actually hoisting the petite grappler up with one arm. Afterward positioning H.W. stomach first atop one end of the table decorated with all of the candies, pastries, and fruit punch bowl that Bashira had been piggishly indulging in earlier...before proceeding to bullrush H.W. face first through each one and thrusting her off the other end of the table in a chaotic mess of candied sweets.

Were those impact tremors?

Was the sky getting darker?

As Halloween writhed on the floor and made vain attempts to push her way up, she looked out the side of her eye to see Bashira approaching. It was only now - right frigging now - that she had a full appreciation for how big this woman was all over. Being so small, she tended to take height for granted, like how all skyscrapers might seem about the same height when you stare at them all day. But now that she was right here, and she could see the height for herself, truly get a feel for it…

Yeah. Yeah, she was in a whole lot of trouble. Ooooooh boy.

Well, first thing was to get up on her feet before her opponent crushed her underfoot. She was having a hard time doing that, when (un)thankfully Bashiri grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her up. With one hand. Granted, it wasn’t like Halloween weighed all that much, but still, it was something of a feat. She didn’t have the time to appreciate it, though - not as she was lifted up, planted on the table, and sent sliding down the snack aisle at ramming speeds. ”Waitwaitwaitwait-”

Bashira didn’t wait. She hurled her all the way down, leaving her to flop off the end, with the pile of Baby Ruths and Snickers doing little to pad her fall. Hissing, groaning, wiping punch off her face, she rolled over to her stomach and began to push her way up again, this time using the barricade for support. ”Well. That sucked.”

Despicable. Disgusting. Bully. Glutton. Pig-Headed. One could probably use a plethora of words to describe Bashira, and a vast number of fellow wrestlers have done just that after squaring off with her. With these examples just being the more censored descriptors. But one misdeed you could never accuse Bashira of was being wasteful...at least when it came to food. As evidenced by her obviously protruding girth, and genuine heartbreak when it came time to barreling the Halloweenie across the candy strewn table until nothing was left atop it aside from one or two red solo cups. Halloween briefly wearing the fruit punch bowl like an oversized helmet amidst all of the chocolatey remnants dotted all around her. The sight of all those scrumptious delights now bound for the trash bin...

Unluckily for H.W., Bashira knew just how to begin her grieving process. And who to take her frustrations out on. The Bear Woman striding up behind the punch drenched twerp and snatching her head from behind. "Aww, is this yer champ? Is this who yer rootin' for? Don't worry, I'll take good care of her now!!!" Bashira cupping her chin and making a point of showcasing her pitiable face to the fans at ringside and cameramen nearby as she escorted Halloween back inside the ring with an effortless tuck and roll beneath the bottom ropes. Steadied ovation being heard from the audience intended to encourage and show support for H.W as Bash entered the ring herself. Intending to dash up to her foe and leap up for what would be the mother of all leg drops with pounds of muscled flab directed right for her foe's facials.

Halloween wouldn’t have used any of those words to describe Bashira, believe it or not. Except, maybe, the whole ‘gluttony’ thing, that seemed pretty spot-on if the way she smashed the candy buffet was anything to go by. But ‘bully’? Nah, she wouldn’t go that far. She’d known a ton of bullies in her lifetime, par for the course when you never grow taller than the five foot mark, so she was something of an expert. In Halloween’s experience, bully’s went looking for fights to pick. That wasn’t the case here - she’d gone into this match willingly. She could’ve backed out. Now they were here, and she couldn't expect - or want - special treatment.

Didn’t mean all of this was going to suck any less, though.

That was made readily apparent when Bashira came up from behind and grabbed her by the head, hauling up with the same kind of ease you would’ve reserved for a stuffed animal, she flopped over once, twice, then wound up stopping on her back, leaving her to stare up at the ceiling while the crowd…oh, they were cheering for her? That was kind of nice. Good to see that support. Didn’t make anything hurt less, but-

Halloween was yanked hard out of her stupor when she heard something charging towards her, shaking the ring with every step. She looked up to see what, at first, she mistook to be the Death Star hurtling towards her. That didn’t turn out to be the case, but the reality was just as terrifying: Bashira coming in for a leg drop. Nope. Nopenopenope.

She put what little energy she had left into a mad roll, hurling herself out of the way just in time to avoid being flattened. Maybe that could open her up for something, maybe not. Halloween ‘s thought were 100% on just surviving the next ten seconds.

Bashira's foreknowledge about tonight's scheduled match and whatever a Halloweenie was essentially only encompassed whatever scant tidbits of information Bash paid attention to from her partner's snarling rambles backstage earlier on in the day. In Rekka's own words, something about a Twitter beef that Halloween started and how Halloween thinks she's soooo cool. The enticing temptation to drop Rekka like a bad habit one of these days only beginning to simmer whenever she started on with that blabbering motormouth of hers, but getting them booked on the main card tonight meant more publicity for Bash and her Bear-Woman brand. Extra points being tacked on for the buffet spread of candied treats she could partake of while Rekka does all of the actual hard work before Bashira steps in to mop up whatever is left of Halloween and claim all the victorious credit for herself.

So for now it's worth hanging around Rekka and her whirlwind chattering for her miracle work when it came to booking matches where Bash can sit on her ass for the majority before swooping in like the corpulent glory-hog she was. Speaking of backsides though, that was indeed no moon which Rekka caught a glimpse of from high above. Even if it did blot out the roof-lights above in the milliseconds before Bash was intending to bury Halloween's head underneath one helluva thick thigh. And Bashira would have gotten away with it too, if it weren't for those meddling audience members alerting H.W. to her attempted leg-drop beforehand. "Fuckin!!!...Nffh, you lil'..." Bash growled out with a flinching wince as she started twisting herself up and around to climb back to her feet. The plummeting impact sounding akin to a miniature meteor smacking against the ring canvas, although now with some raised decibel levels from H.W.'s fans willing her onward to perhaps make a miracle happen...