Showdown VI: Zangief vs Rainbow Mika

There were many that thought that Zangief’s size made him slow and unwieldy, that he lacked in stamina and was unable to move at anything but the most glacial pace. These people were not necessarily wrong - the Red Cyclone was by no true definition ‘fleet of foot’. But in short bursts he could achieve a fair amount of speed, enough to cross the ring in a short, frightening sprint, and it was this ability he brought out as he closed in on Rainbow Mika.

Many would’ve faltered to see such a freight train bearing down on them, but Rainbow Mika was not one of them. With all that speed and force came momentum, and it meant that Zangief was unable to stop as she vaulted over his head, flying high and leaving him to ram against the pad with such a great force that it made the referee stumble.

The impact left Zangief stumbling back, dazed, and a pair of boots struck him in the back before he could turn around. He fell forward, and if not for the turnbuckle, might have gone down all the way. Instead, he crashed hard into it and stayed there, leaning against the pad, breathing heavy and shaking his head.

The crowd roared with approval as Mika now showed off some of her trademark agility, leaping over the charging Zanghief to allow him to crash into the turnbuckle...and then for good measure, hammering a kick into his back! Landing lithely on her feet, Mika raised both her hands in a V-sign to the crowd: although she was still feeling really wobbly from all of the earlier impacts she had suffered, the crowd's love was filling her with an undeniable energy, filling her with a renewed sense of vigour...and confidence that she could beat this red mountain of a man.

Earlier, Zanghief had managed to counter her Shooting Peach. Aside from the fact that that counter had hurt quite a bit, in general she found the very notion annoying and insulting, and she wanted more than anything to correct that little mistake. Eying Zanghief as he was slumped against the turnbuckle, she once again burst into a run, launching herself at the Red Cyclon, and spinning around in midair to once again try her trademark move.

"SHOOTING PEACH!" she shouted, hoping that it worked this time and that she would catch Zanghief's head between a rock and a not-so-hard place....

The Red Cyclone was, frankly, a freak of nature. The product of decades of breeding and perfection, of a merciless training regime, of the sort of discipline that lesser men could scarcely fathom. There was not a muscle on his entire body that had not been honed to perfection, none that went untrained, and the result was a living testament to the peak of human power.

But, still, he was human. And even he had limits.

One of those limits was made achingly plain, as he recovered from his failed charge in the corner. He was quick enough to shake off the weariness, getting his bearings, and he thought there would be enough time for him to move in again and reclaim the moment. He was proven wrong, however, when he turned about and saw Mika’s backside hurtling towards him at terminal velocity.

There was no time to prepare or brace, barely enough to even register the sight, before his head was rocked by the hellacious impact. It sent him back, hammering his skull against the corner pads, and the only way to go from there was down. He dropped to his knees in an instant and stayed there, stunned. Not all the way down, but not moving much, too out of it to do much more than blink and shake his head.

Super effective.

All those year of playing Pokemon caused the word to pop, unbidden, into Mika's head as she turned and saw the handiwork of her trademark move. Zanghief hadn't mere been hit by her Shooting Peach: he had been rocked by it. He had been devestated. He had been sent hurtling out of the ring to crash in a giant heap on the floor below. The crowd was going wild now as Mika not only managed to fight back, but fight back with style.

And she wasn't done yet.

Climbing the top rope, Mika raised a hand to the crowd, getting their attention and driving them even further into a frenzy of excitement as she stared down at the struggling Zanghief. She watched, waiting for him to get back to his feet...and the moment he did, she would spring from her perch to come hurtling down at him with a cry of "WINGLESS AIRPLANE!" If all went as planned, she would latch her powerful legs around Zanghief's head and twist her body around, throwing Zanghief head first into either the corner post or the barriers.

...when did Zangief get outside of the ring?

He was having trouble recalling the past few moments, dealing with the whirlwind of offense Rainbow Mika had thrust upon him. It wasn’t merely her skill and speed that were proving to be a problem. He had dealt with faster and more experienced opponents - precious few, mind you, but still. No, it was the spirit which drove her that was proving to be most troublesome. No, the major problem here was her spirit - her dauntless, enduring spirit, which was letting her come back from whatever he threw her way.

That was the reason he found himself out of the ring, stunned, trying to gather his bearings. He could hear Mother Russia calling to him nearby, feel the crowd’s growing excitement, all the signs of an incoming attack, but he was at loss on the direction it would be coming from.

He would not have to wonder for much longer, as he caught sight of Mika flying through the air, far too late to do much more than look on in awe. She caught his head between her legs, snagged it tight, and used the momentum to her advantage, swinging him around, hurling him face-first into the nearest barricade. He hit with enough force to make the entire thing move a foot or so, shoving several spectators back and spilling several drinks in the process.

It was worth the effort, however, as Zangief was left on his hands and knees once again. Using the barricade for support, he began to rise once more, but he was wobbling and slow, a sloppy effort all around.

Mika was a whirlwind of motion as she flung herself down at the Red Tornado, her powerful body spinning in midair as her thighs clamped around Zanghief's head. In an instnant she was spinning, rotating like the Tornado Zanghief had taken as his nickname as she spun around his head. The force was enough to lift the giant off his feet and hurl him across the ringside floor like a stack of hay in a twister; he collided with the barricade with such spectacular force that the whole thing was shoved back.

The crowd was briefly hushed, amazed at this display of power and strength from the Rainbow Warrior. And then, as Mika stood up and casually brushed her pigtails back, they burst into impressed applause.

Turning back to Nadeshiko, she flashed her partner a thumbs up, a gesture the other wrestler quickly returned with a smile. Turning back to Zanghief, she strode towards him now, relentless as he tried to pick himself back up. Zanghief was not going to enjoy the luxury of rest and recuperation though. Not in this match. Not in her ring.

Clamping an arm around the side of Zanghief's head...and ignorant of the fact that this was causing the side of her boob to mash against the Russian's cheek...Mika raised a fist to the crowd. "DAYDREAM HEADLOCK!" she shouted, before drilling one, two, three punches into Zanghief's skull. Unless she was interrupted, she would then rush forward...aiming to bulldog the massive Russian face-first into the announcer's table!

This was a new sensation for the Red Cyclone. Even Zangief, a man with a storied career across every continent in the world, could not recall the last time he was so thoroughly rocked, and definitely not at such an early stage in the match. He was no stranger to pain, of course - far from it. He thrived in adversity, lived to test the limits of his body and push his form to new heights. He was confident enough in his body’s ability to withstand any onslaught.

But his head was a different story. Even he could only take so much damage up there and stay standing. He needed only a few moments to recuperate, gather his bearings, and then…

It seemed like Rainbow Mika knew the opportunity when she saw it, because that was time she absolutely did not give him. Zangief was only finding his footing when she stole it again, grabbing his head tight and capturing his skull in a crushing headlock - though, in truth, the feel of his face against her breast was not unpleasant. He had no time to enjoy it, however, as her fist hammered into his face, again and again and again, undoing what little recovery he enjoyed.

It left him all too woozy and wobbly, weak in the knees, easy prey as she surged forward, leaped up, and introduced the Russian’s face to the top of the announcer’s table, slamming Zangief into it with overwhelming force. The commentators scarcely had time to leap out of the way as his massive frame crashed through it, breaking the table clean down the middle and sending papers and electronics flying in every direction.

It all created a pile of destruction, with the mighty Zangief lying in the middle. Still and unmoving…for the moment.

The announcer's table made a sound like a whole forest being shattered in a cyclone, and the audience at that point lost their minds with applause. At first, this battle had seemed like a gross mismatch, with Mika outmatched by the larger and more powerful Zanghief. But now that Mika was fighting back, she was not only doing so with style, but with devastating effect: no one had seen Mika do that to any of her opponents before, let alone a bigger one, let alone a man, let along the Red Goddamned Tornado.

Wobbing back up to her feet, Mika flashed a V-sign to her fans, her chest pounding with excitement, half unable to believe that she had just pulled that off. But the proof was right there before her: Zanghief, lying facedown, barely moving after his head had been slammed through the announcer's table. She was on a roll here: she just had to keep it going.

"Up ya go!" Mika cried, grabbing a hold of Zanghief's head to pull him back up-- not an easy feat, given his immense bulk and weight. Huffing, Mika would try to drag the Russia back towards the ring and slide him under the ropes. If she managed that, then she would climb up to the top rope, brush her pigtails back, and feap skyward....flipping in midair, with a cry of "DIVE BOMB!" she would come down, butt-first, towards Zanghief, hoping to catch him between the mat and a hard place...

What was it the Americans said? The bigger they come, the harder they fall?

Well, Zangief was an extraordinarily big man, and when he came down, he came down exceptionally hard.

The audience was left in awe as they gaze on the destruction Rainbow Mika had made, in disbelief that the mighty Zangief could be lain so low. He could relate, honestly. It wasn’t an easy thing to comprehend. But his aching bones told the story plain enough. He tried to move them, tried to stand up, but his body refused the call, his muscles ignored his orders. He was down, and while he was far from defeated, he needed something he rarely indulged in during a match: Time to recover.

Rainbow Mika, however, seemed deadset on denying him this luxury. In the next moment, she was all over him, picking him up with no small degree of difficulty and forcing him to his feet. A zombified Zangief went along with her, stumbling along the mat and rolling back into the ring when she tossed him inside, leaving him to stare at the sky.

It was not a good position, and while he was not certain what was coming next, he knew it would be nothing pleasant for him. He had to focus. Clear his mind. Blow away the fog…

As clarity returned to Zangief, his eyes widened at the sight of Rainbow Mika, soaring through the air, heading straight for him. Hurt as he was, there was no time to move out the way, no way to dodge - but he could raise his legs. As quick as he could manage, he brought his legs up and balled them in tight with his knees pointed upwards, a less-than-ideal landing pad for his opponent to fall onto.

The crowd at this point had lost track of the number of times Mika had been attacking Zanghief with her butt. So had Mika, if she was honest, but then again, this was her gimmick after all, and it was a devastatingly effective one (as Zanghief was quickly discovering). Honestly, Mika had no reservations about repeating herself, especially with a crowd-pleaser like this move...and so, with a grin, she sprang off the corner post, her pigtails trailing majestically behind her as she plummeted down towards Zanghief...

....and impacted, hard, on his upraised knees.

Pain spiked through Mika's tailbone, and she let out a shriek as she bounced off of Zanghief, tumbling to the mat. Her eyes were screwed shut in pain as she reached back, clutching her hurting rear....not noticing that this was putting her in an even more provacative pose for the audience, and momentarily unaware of whatever Zanghief might have been doing next....