Dixie Clemets vs. PHDoom

Dixie's entire body trembled as her mighty blow struck against Doom, sending the woman dropping to the mat. She had to stop after that chop, leaning forward with her hands on her knees, her breath ragged as she took a moment to regain her bearings. That attack had really taken a lot out of her. Hell, the entire back-and-forth between herself and Doom had taken a lot out of her! She felt satisfied though. Even if she somehow managed to lose this match, she knew she could rest easy in the knowledge that she had came out on top in a contest of blows with the newcomer.

Dixie didn't plan on losing though. Not after sending Doom dropping to the canvas like that! She decided to take a chance, thinking that maybe she could score a quick and easy win right here and right now. The Texan let herself drop to the mat, sliding slowly onto Doom's body, lying atop her and pinning her to the mat. She reached down, grabbing one of the punk's legs to pull it into the pin, hugging it tight as the referee dropped down beside them, slapping the mat to start a three-count.

"One!" the referee yelled out as she hit the mat, while Dixie turned her head towards Doom, whispering towards her, panting hard all the while. "This is it, girl. Jes' lie there, and let me pin ya, and this'll all be over..."

Doom was feeling bewildered and disoriented as the ceiling lights of the arena filled her field of vision. Everything felt incredibly underwater at the moment, her ears ringing with an incomprehensible combination of the echo of Dixie's chops, the roar of the crowd and the dull yet forceful thud of her body hitting the canvas. This wasn't a situation that Doom had even considered being in as she'd walked down the entrance ramp, tonight, and she was forced to fully acknowledge that she had, indeed, completely underestimated Dixie. Every aching muscle in her chest and shoulder blades screamed at her to not allow herself to do so again.

Doom took a moment on the canvas to catch her breath, try and work through the pain in her chest, before trying to get back on her feet. All of that, however, went out the window the moment she felt Dixie's body come down on top of her to pin her to the mat. Doom's ears were still ringing a bit too loudly to catch every word Dixie was saying, but the idea of Dixie pinning her here, like this, and taunting her with it, lit a fire in the brawler. With every ounce of effort she could muster, Doom thrust her arm up into the air, in an attempt to get one shoulder off the mat, and interrupt the pinfall.

Dixie pressed down on Doom, trying to keep her pin secure. She could practically taste her victory over the cocky newcomer, and what a sweet taste it was! She watched out of the corner of her eye, as the referee's hand came up, ready to drop back down for the next count. Her win was practically assured, she felt. Just a few more seconds!

But, of course, before the referee's hand could hit the mat again, Doom's body came jerking upwards, her shoulder lifted from the mat. Dixie shot up, looking down at her in a mix of anger and amazement, then just shook her head towards the woman.

"Still wantin' more, huh?" she asked in a soft voice. She reached out, the Texan going to grab Doom by her arm, starting back up to her feet and pulling the punk up with her. "Fine by me. Guess I'll have to give ya a little more punishment to keep ya down then..."

While the world around Doom was beginning to come back into focus, she was still almost entirely consumed with the stinging in her chest. Raising her arm to stop the pinfall had been an act of almost pure adrenaline, and while it had fortunately succeeded, Doom was left with the task of trying to regain control of the match. Doom glared at Dixie's expression of shock and anger, her lips curling into a sneer. At the very least, Doom could take satisfaction in giving the veteran a bit of a shock. And once Doom's muscles ceased their incessant, aching, she'd be ready to give her much more than that ...

Doom opted to bide her time. At least, she insisted to herself that she was biding her time and not simply unable to resist Dixie's efforts to lift her to her feet. Slowly and subtly, Doom rolled her shoulders, trying to work out some of the muscle pain in her back. The rush of confidence she felt coming back to her when she'd seen Dixie's face helped Doom to focus and get her breathing under control. Doom knew she couldn't afford to underestimate Dixie a second time but, still a little punch drunk, Doom could only try and regroup, and wait for an opportune moment to strike ...

Dixie pulled Doom back up to her feet, taking just a brief moment to glance over the woman. Part of her, just a small part, wanted to let fly with another chop, wanted to give Doom a reminder of just who she was dealing with. The cowgirl knew better than that, though. She had a feeling that Doom was on the ropes, despite her quick breaking of Dixie's pin, and she thought that she could push her over with just a bit more of a nudge, and really end the match.

She just had to keep Doom under control while she continued to wear her down, and that didn't seem like it'd be an issue. Granted, Dixie had to remind herself not to underestimate the newcomer, but she still wasn't too worried. She had this. This match was her's.

"Time to fly, missy!" she barked at her opponent, tightening her grip on her arm. With another throaty yell, she suddenly tried to swing Doom around, trying to send her flying with another Irish whip. This time though, she was aiming to send Doom straight towards the corner, as opposed to the ropes like she had done earlier.

Still only tenuously keeping on her feet, it was easy for Doom to be swung forward in the momentum of Dixie's Irish whip. More importantly, Doom realized she was getting her bearings back enough to at fully understand Dixie's barks and taunts, again. A mixed blessing, certainly, but one that gave Doom something to focus on, to bring her back into the match. It reminded her that she had something to hate.

Doom barreled into the corner post with the full force of Dixie's Irish whip. The strength of the cowgirl was considerable, to say the least, and Doom's lack of stability certainly wasn't helping that. As she saw the turnbuckle oncoming, Doom tried to twist her body, control her fall into the corner and take the brunt of the impact with her shoulder. Which was hardly ideal, considering the ache in her back, but it was still far better than taking the blow full on to her still-stinging chest.

Doom leaned back, arms draped over the ropes. While it galled her to do so, Doom feigned weakness, letting out an exaggerated, guttural sound as she hit the corner. But even in lowering herself like this, Doom hoped to coax Dixie into rushing into her next attack. Doom hung her head, slightly, trying to mask her anticipation. Catching her breath, readying herself for Dixie to press the advantage, Doom could feel her moment to strike back at the cowgirl was drawing closer.

Dixie let out another whistle as she watched Doom flying towards the corner, wincing as the woman slammed right into it. Dixie wasn't exactly the most modest person around, and she couldn't help but marvel at her own strength as as watched Doom's impact with the turnbuckle. The sound of the punk's growl of pain was like music to the Texan's ears, and the blonde was even more confident now then before that she had Doom exactly where she wanted her.

With a raised fist to her cheering fans, signalling them of what was to come, Dixie turned fully and completely to Doom, focusing her attention entirely on the woman. She waited a moment, then another, building up the proper anticipation. Then, she sprang towards Doom, charging straight towards the woman like a rampaging bull. Her intention, of course, was to slam her body into Doom's own, trying to nail the woman with a fully bodied splash attack, wanting to simply squash her between herself and the turnbuckle.

Doom writhed on the corner post for what felt like forever, hoping not just to sell Dixie on any possible helplessness, but also attempting to work out the rest of the sore ache that had been spreading through her back and shoulders. Doom's fingers clutched the ring ropes tightly, anticipation making the tension collect in her arms as she waited for Dixie to make her move. For a moment, Doom mulled over what the audience might have been thinking, seeing Doom appear momentarily vulnerable at the hands of the buxom blonde fan-favorite. Doom fought back a grin, as she prepared to show them all how "vulnerable" she really was.

When Doom, peeking out from half-fluttering eyelids, saw Dixie barreling towards her she nearly lost focus. Even Doom had to admit that this was a lot of toned, muscular Texan to have coming down on one. Still, she held the line, feigning weakness as long as she could, until Dixie was just a few more running steps away. Seeing Dixie lifting into the air, preparing to come down on Doom with full force, Doom tightened her grip on the ropes and lifted her knees to her chest. Instead of Doom's tender torso, she hoped to make Dixie come down instead onto her hard and unforgiving knees.

Dixie dashed towards Doom, and yet again she couldn't help herself but to grin. Doom was a sitting duck, and the busty blonde couldn't wait to feel the punk's body being squashed under the weight and momentum of Dixie's own. She came in hard and fast towards her, not even realizing that Doom was suddenly in motion. She flew towards the woman, just as Doom's knees came up towards her.

"OOF!" came the loud grunt through Dixie's lips, as she slammed into Doom's knees, impaling herself on them. She fell backwards, taking a step away from the woman before dropping to the mat. She curled up, holding her midsection in pain with both arms, trying to figure out what had just happened, trying to figure out what Doom had just done to her.

Needless to say, she was in a world of hurt right now, lying on the canvas at Doom's feet, and it was not a good feeling.

Doom couldn't help but let out a laugh as she felt Dixie's toned-yet-giving midsection collide with her knees. She could feel the crowd's mass disappointment that momentum had shifted once again, as they watched Dixie's body writhing on the mat, and she sneered. More important than her sense of schaudenfreude she was drawing from the crowd, however, was the near-glee she felt watching her opponent in pain. Starting to regain her strength a bit, Doom was seething at the fact that Dixie had quite literally had her on the ropes. And now, she resolved, her enfeebled opponent and the gasping collection of perverts was going to pay for thinking Doom to be disadvantaged!

Doom's hands still clutching the ring ropes, she pulled herself up to place her feet on the second-tier turnbuckle (even grunting slightly, as she realized that the muscle pain in her torso was, in fact, still rather present). She took a moment there, catching her breath, her tongue running across her lip in anticipation as she looked down at her foe. Doom then raised her arms over her head. Her right arm in front of her face, elbow bent forward, the other to the side with her hand wrapped around her wrist for leverage. Doom let out a deep, rasping cry as she threw herself off the turnbuckle, her elbow aimed squarely at Dixie's vulnerable chest.