SS21 - Death Bunny vs Rebecca Tomko

Death was as unaccustomed to being manhandled as the general audience was to witnessing it transpire. The Grim One practically, and appropriately, was all but dead weight upon being savagely rammed and squished into submission from Rebecca's titanic embrace as she further sagged against Tomko, breathing lightly against her shoulder in the uncomfortably romantic position. A testament towards The Enforcer's brutal strength if their ever was one, and yet one that was circumvented immediately by Tomko hefting D.B. to be slung midsection first over her shoulder like a sack of undead potatoes. Death huffing out an exhaled pant with half-lidded eyes and supple backside right beside Beck's head, a flaccid limpness to her limbs aside from an errant hike to one of her legs that was more adorable than anything else.

With that relaxing stroll up the ramp complete, Rebecca took the bunny she had slung over her shoulder and oh so carefully... just threw her off without a single damn how she was going to land other than it was probably going to be around the thin layer of sand close to the beach bar with a powerful roar. While in the ring the Grim Hopper had the upper hand, now it was the Big Gun's time to show what she could do to someone she didn't like.

But first something captured her eye. She had assumed that the facade of the beach bar was just a prop but no: someone had put a fridge on the stage, plugged it in and loaded it with drinks! A couple beers, some water bottles just in case and a freaking coconut with straws and a mini umbrella. With how she'd ached from getting battered by the Bunny's blows it was a tempting offer for the giantess to step behind the bar and get something to dull the pain she felt so she could go back to dishing it out. Also it was the only time the company had provided any cold beers at all, cheapskates used to leave them out for the whole event...

*Tschk*

Impractical as it may seem, downtrodden times like these definitely called for optimistic viewpoints. Scarce though they were to ascertain considering she'd just been squeezed into flaccid gelatin by a two hundred and forty pound behemoth seemingly more intent on brutalizing her adversary than actually scoring the dub. A theory Death postulated whilst still in the unflattering position of being slung over The Enforcer's shoulder like a bunny-eared bale of hay. Fans taken aback from never having witnessed the brawler overpowered to this degree...and this was before being unceremoniously discarded onto the sandy flooring.

Death would have...really, appreciated it if management hadn't skimped on the beach sand considering it would have cushioned her plummet substantially as she languished at Tomko's feet. The props department, at General Manager Maximillian's request for utmost authenticity, having taken his unorthodox insistence to heart with tiki torches littered about, tropical lighting, and indeed a stacked fridge showcasing beverages for teetotalers and hard drinkers alike. However, unbeknownst to Rebecca a wooden oar would be ominously overseen rising above her from behind before being thwacked down by a seething bunny girl making practical usage of the scenery.

Nothing like a refreshing beer for an impromptu break between sessions of pounding a powerful rabbit into a pulp... there were probably better ways to phrase that sentence but Rebecca wouldn't get the chance to think twice about what she was going to say at the post-match interview when Death Bunny rose out of the thin layer of sand and struck the distracted giantess in the back of the head, the paddle of the oar snapping clean off as Rebecca fell forward leaving the ebony amazon slumped over the bar with one heck of a headache scheduled as her wake-up call.

Turns out Maximillion skimped less on the scenery than he could have gotten away with, that oar that was used as a background prop was as wooden as it looked and it spoke to just how hard the Grim Hopper had whacked her foe.

Unaware and altogether uncaring that thwacking people upside the head with a wooden oar was practically a hallowed Summer Splash tradition at this point, Death peered down at what was now nothing more than firewood in her hand and indifferently chucked over her shoulder. Death breathing hoarsely and with a sweat sheened perspiration thanks to being unwillingly squished like a bunny-eared tube of toothpaste within Rebecca's unrelenting embrace. Not that she ever wondered, but there's less of a debate than ever now in terms of why she's called the Big Guns.

Death gathered herself as best she could and started arranging her tasks in terms of priority. Firstly, she'd saunter towards the bar and nimbly spring over towards the other side. Helping herself to whatever lager Maximilian ponied up for authenticities sake, gulping down the frosty brew before slamming down the mug with a hearty exhale. Secondly, approaching the waylaid enforcer and twisting herself around by her shoulder. Death clutching into Rebecca's chin with her upraised arm proceeding to attempt her Ten Bells series of battering pummels before releasing her.

With a headache that rivalled the most painful hangover the woman who at one point was the biggest woman in AFW was muscled around the bar and blearily looked up as the arena lights filtered through the straw roof, groaning in general pain as she felt her head be pulled back just that little bit more, looking up into the eyes of one of the most feared competitors who Rebecca had tried to squeeze like a stress ball before Death Bunny gave her something to take her mind of the oar-splitting headache: a painful pummelling to the chest, hammering repeatedly right above her large breasts "UNGH!" she grunted as she was held in place, her face twisting into a pained grimace that deepened with each blow.

Death relinquished Rebecca once the tenth bell chimed via countdown from the raucous audience, although she started vaguely reminiscing about performing this exact same maneuver in actual beer soaked bar brawls. Deja vu beginning to creep in thanks to exchanging fisticuffs in this specific set decoration as The Murder Rabbit hopped over the bar table once again. Nothing like a refreshing pint of lager to get Death in the mood for a donnybrook, and she sought to capitalize on a beleaguered Becks in as definitive a manner possible. If the enforcer recouped in a timely manner, she might notice her head being snugly affixed between Death's powerful thighs. Accompanying this was the swelled softness against Beck's back and hugging waistlock further hinting at the Reaper's Gravestone Piledriving intentions...

The big woman coughed out as she sank to her knees in the sand, weakly trying to cover her chest as the Grim Hopper let her go all so she could get on with the next nasty thing she wanted to do to Rebecca which as the Amazon found out involved trapping her skull between the pale thighs of Death. "Nggh!" she grunted as she was forced to double over, bending down even more than most had to in this position due to how tall she was. Not that this was a good position to be in even if she was only 5ft 5, with the grip around her waist and something soft pressing in to her back Rebecca could guess that Death Bunny was about to attempt to take her for a ride and lift her off her feet. Not if she had anything to say about it.

Grabbing the powerful legs of her foe, Rebecca pushed herself upwards, uncurling her body as she lifted DB with he for a Big back body drop, trying to throw the purple haired bunny overhead as she stood up and pried apart the pressure on her skull.

An abundance of overconfidence tended to be one symptom of drinking like a fish. Hence why sauced up average slobs start brawls with tattooed bikers who can, and invariably do, end up exiting them out the pub with their face being used to open the door. Now while Death certainly hasn't imbibed enough liquid courage to disorientate her sensibilities to that intoxicated degree, it may have contributed to the Reaper's decision making and ironically titled downfall. An unforgiving steel floor still laid buried beneath the patches of sand. Rebecca's muscled physique potentially tacking on extra kayoing impact. Death mentally prepping herself for the piledriving feat of strength by huffing out against the warmth of the Ebon Amazon's sweat soaked back...but instead gawking with widened eyes when noticing the unsettling weightlessness that came afterward. One gasped yelp and flail of her legs later, Death would be frightfully slammed spine first over the bar. Mouth agape in wordless anguish and swelled bosom puffed up as she opted to just...stay here for now.

"Woo..." Rebecca gasped as the pressure around her skull faded, leaving the big woman to stagger forward clutching her head only semi-aware of the damage she just did to the bunny eared brawler that the amazon had left behind her. What she was fully aware of though was that the beer she'd drunk wasn't actually that good now that the aftertaste was here, although that could have been a side effect of being bludgeoned mid-drink, and now she had to really repay the Grim Hopper for the way her head thumped "There you are." She growled as the ebony amazon turned to see the stunned Rabbit left out on the bar, her head laid out over the edge as she lay balanced on her spine. Rebecca wasn't in the mood for anything complicated at this moment, she saw Death Bunny's neck exposed and she went for it, wrapping her strong hands around her throat for a basic throttling choke as the brawl around the bar continued, shaking the purple haired woman like she owed her money.