AV 21 Death Bunny vs Adrian Kytes

The acrobatic throwback to Adrian's rookie years delighted the fandom as a whole, which was obviously to be expected considering they haven't witnessed the faction leader take to the sky in years. Nostalgic callbacks aside it was a picture perfect splashdown. Indicative of the fact Adrian was pulling out every trick in her extensive playbook and wrestling technique mastered if it meant ensuring that Death was the one buried within a casket tomb tonight. The Bunny Reaper coaxed back to her feet but clearly fatigued in a hunched posture, sagging with wearied breathes against Adrian's black singlet as the Bullet Club Leader continued her commanding dominance of the match, but perhaps unaware of Death's arm slung around Ade's waist from behind. A split second being all it would take for the reaper to heft the commando into the air by that grip and allow gravity to do the rest. Gravity...plus the unforgiving top rope Adrian sunken between her legs and against her backside that she would be woefully crotched down upon.

Satisfying though it may have been for Death to even the playing field between them with her own particular brand of unscrupulous tactics, oddsmakers in Las Vegas were nevertheless perplexed from the ghoulish reaper taking matters below the belt before notorious trickster and retired cosplayer Adrian Kytes. Two matches worth of combating the faction leader and enduring one duplicitous tactic after another will do wonders for one's vengeful imagination, it appears. Death taking a brief powder and easing her fatigue on one knee before beginning to make a trudging march towards the corner turnbuckle facing Adrian, now taking her time in climbing up to the top turnbuckle with her back positioned against the padded corner. Audience members rising out of their seats as well in preparation for Death attempting to leap towards the straddling Adrian with nothing but an angered grimace and cocked back lariat to greet her.

No matter how Adrian chose to play out her lamentable position, whether it be barking obscenities at DB or attempting to play the sympathetic scumbag card, the overall end result would have been the same. Whatever assistance Death would have offered to dislodge Adrian from her nethers pinching perch was always going to come in the form of a socking strike and a six-foot plummet. And that's only if Adrian's wrestling instincts kicked in at the right time and she angled herself inside the ring rather than outside, where an even steeper descent awaited alongside officials following concussion protocols asking if she knew what city she was in while sticking fingers in front of her face.

Showcasing a degree of respect for each competitor as well as the savage spectacle unfolding, a rising ovation now settled around the arena in the break between action as Death laid prone against the canvas a few feet apart from the faction leader. Fatigued from the earlier Arabian Press but soldiering onward with strained breathes as she started lethargically rising back to her feet with a torqued handful of Adrian's hair insisting she do the same. Ade finding herself cornered against a turnbuckle with arms draped over the top ropes, one of DB's forearms angled against the bottom of her chin as an incentive to puff out her modest chest. Shame that's where open-palmed thunder would strike...

A step back being taken by the Merchant Of Death allowed Adrian the freedom of movement to be hunched over with D.B. apathetically wiggling her striking hand which showcased how that even stung on her part. Understandable reactions on both competitors part after thwacking the faction leader with a downright savage knife-edge chop that sounded more like a shotgun blast than anything else. Adrian's lack of cushioning up there no doubt adding to the searing agony behind it, although in all likelihood this was why Death intentionally targeted her flattened assets in the first place. "Serves you right for almost burning my goddamn eyebrows off my face, ya fucking gremlin..." Death spitefully yet colorfully remarked before starting to heft Adrian up to be seated on the top turnbuckle, the Reaper following her upward to stand herself on the adjacent middle ropes. Hooking eachother's arms over their foe's necks in the preamble for an attempted superplex as Death yanks onto the side of Ade's leotard...

Death was fairly confident in surmising that the metaphorical line of people whom Adrian has earned the ire of through her unscrupulous shenanigans, in all likelihood dwarfed the actual line of audience members who shuffled into the arena tonight, but she digressed. Although Adrian lamented over that flattened ironboard of hers, she could at least take solace in the fact it renders her practically impervious to one of Death's more infamous submission finishers. Not that she didn't have a bevy of other tormenting maneuvers to be watchful of, namely being superplexed sky high. The Bunny Reaper hauling Adrian up onto the corner turnbuckle with a swell of anticipation arising all around them...except than the Bullet Commando did what she did best. Be an absolute aggravation and claw at Death's eyes. Blinding her briefly as Adrian shuffled off the turnbuckle, inadvertently tucking D.B.'s head downward in the process. A peculiar development unfolding as she effectively found herself...well, stuck. Wriggle though she might to an alluring sway of her bodacious backside, the back of her head was tucked securely against the top turnbuckle. Death seething from the embarrassment of her upside-down predicament, somehow rendered defenseless by Adrian from out of freaking nowhere...