SS22 Silver Ace vs. Bashira Matsumoto

A time-honored tradition withing the sport of wrestling was when the veterans or elder statesmen of the profession gracefully stepped aside so the new blood who had the hunger and drive could take up their mantle at the top of the card. Given Bashira's big-bodied thickness it shouldn't even be debated as to whether the behemoth had the hunger or not, but in Bash's experience migrating between wrestling federations, sometimes those industry warhorses weren't keen on bowing out of the race in favor of the new generation. Sometimes they needed a little extra persuasion, whether it be through a clenched fist or some rotund girth squashing them into the canvas. And that frigid splash of cold truth was exactly what Bash was intending to dole out in what was becoming a one-sided mauling of the Silver-haired fan favorite after an admittedly strong start on her part that went all downhill from there. Audience members wearing the same face-paint as Ace having little to smile about as Bash threw her massive weight around with the absolute worst still to come...

A few jiggling thwacks against her thonged crevice announcing Bashira's dreadful intentions as the dominant Bear-Woman started on her ominous approach, a fate worse than any mere defeat in a wrestling ring being prepared for the sunken Silver Ace. A swiveling stinkface attempt with Bash intending to quite literally wipe her smug superiority right in Ace's face even if it did mean some smudged makeup on her gargantuan backside afterwards. Except upon thrusting backward she'd practically collapse into a seated position herself. "Whatthahell..." Bash bitterly muttered when noticing the distinct lack of cushion for her pushin, swiveling to the side and using the ropes to aid her ascent as she started looking for the little Canadian puke in her bewildered confusion. Except after peeking over the top rope the back of her head would be tightly clenched onto as her throat was thrust downward into the top rope. "HUGAH!!!" Hacking breathes being blubbered by the Bear-Woman now backpedaling with hand over her throat and on wavering legs for the first time in a long time...

Concentrating solely on gasping for air, the winded behemoth withdrew several steps with bellowed coughs and one gloved hand clutching her throat. Showcasing a state of fatigued vulnerability as yet unseen this entire match and a possible chink in her blubber-riddled armor which Bashira's manager was justifiably freaking out at the sight of. Johnny gawking in disbelief with his hollered orders directly aimed at his client being overwhelmed by the throngs of audience members' cheering adulation as they willed on the fan favorite who was still fighting back in the face of adversity. Bashira herself internally declaring that any notions of showing mercy towards the silver-haired punk was officially thrown out of the window the next time she gets her gloved mitts on-*THWACK*. Bashira's vengeful thoughts being interrupted by the diving Meteora blasting her in the back and sending the Bear-Woman crumbling down into the canvas in a booming bellyflop. Bash swiveling over onto her back in a grimaced haze with an educated guess as to who just blindsided her like that.