Description: Cracker Jack wins the Western Pro Belt from Jezebel. Jezebel gets fired from Lightning Spangles. Glory to Lord Vega!
Sunshine City. The Dragon Arena. 7 PM.
The stands were filled with the chattering crowds. The fighting ring itself was a white-padded square ringed by ropes of red, blue, and yellow, each corner highlighted by a light-blue turnbuckle. The raised fighting ring was already illuminated with the overhead spotlights, scanning the center in a figure-eight pattern. It was a championship match; Lightning Spangles defending the belt against an equally awesome-named Cracker Jack. The challenger would be here soon, and the defender would be there waiting to meet him.
But there was something missing.
The words come from outside the door of the dressing room. Inside, Jezebel was relaxing in front of the vanity mirror. She was dressed in her full Lightning Spangles regilia; soft leather boots, blue jeans highlighted with white chaps. Around her belt was the Western Pro Belt; she didn't have to wear it. But she wanted to. She needed to. There was so much that was needed right now. She idly tugs and adjusts her rhinestone-studded red vest, the gem-encrusted lightning bolts highlighting the blouse blouse underneath, covered with gleaming white stars.
Sharp rapping comes from the door.
"Jezebel, what is going on in there?" The voice calls out. "You are on in 5 minutes for your match with Cracker Jack! To defend the belt? Remember that? Are you having another meltdown?" The last words come with hissing venom. Jerry was getting less and less patient with Jezebel. But it was okay. The actress found a way to deal with the stress now. It was the same as the old way. Why did it matter anymore? Idly, she sits up a bit, glancing at her companion at the vanity. A half-empty... no, no, to Jezebel, it was half full. She grips the bottle of whiskey, and throws back a glup. Immediately, the door swings open.
"You are -shitting- me!"
The brown-haired manager was there, eyes bulging out his head in rage. Jezebel's manager was only stunned for a minute. Dimly, Jezebel blinks, smiling as her face was flush. "Hey Jerry... I mean, howdy- "You god damn bitch, don't you ruin this for me." Was the roar from Jerry as he grabs Jezebel by the ponytail. Jezebel instinctively stands up, grabbing him by the wrist and twisting hard. Her eyes were glazed, but she was looking hard. "I won't Jerry. I'm doing what's right. I can do this." Jerry looks terrified at the woman, as he releases her hair. "You can't do this Jezebel. You told me you would stop drinking. You told me you would never touch the stuff-" Jezebel lets go of her manager, as she staggers towards the door of the dressing room, as the crowd in the arena begins to cheer. "I also told you I wouldn't hurt children anymore." She mutters distantly.
"I guess I'm a liar."
"Jack, why are you eating pancakes?" "So if she punches me in the stomach, I puke on her." "Okay. You're up in five. Time to get out there."
Cracker Jack pushes his hot, steaming plate of pancakes back and takes off his improvised napkin bib, rising to his feet. He has a swig of milk, then picks up his trusty baseball bat. "Alright, Jack, you can do this. You're a bouncer, you know how to take people down." He looks in the mirror, grabbing his hat and sticking it on his head with his gloved right hand, before he tilts it forward over his eyes and gives himself an underjawed grin. "Time to get jacked, Lightning Spangles." He props his bat up on his shoulder, carrying an autographed baseball in his bare left hand. They're both from the American Southwest. They're both redneck royalty. And they're both show people. This ought to be interesting. The one difference? Cracker Jack has killed people in cold blood. He has the instinct to commit murder. He's assuming Jezebel lacks that.
Jack walks out of his end of the stadium to boos, tossing the baseball out into the crowd. It comes flying back at him from an enraged Lightning Spangles fan, and he swings his bat. The ball echoes with a loud crack as it goes flying right back at the fan that threw it, smashing him in the chest and sending him onto his face. "Keep that ball. It'll be worth something." The boos get louder as Jack climbs into the ring, grinning at the crowd and lifting his bat up with both hands, pumping it up and down. A 'Spangles' chant begins, and Jack turns about, leaning against a turnbuckle with the batting stick propped on his shoulder. "Time to kill a hero," he mutters.
Jezebel wished she lacked that killing instinct.
Lightning Spangles sways as she leaves her dressing room. Jerry rubs his wrist, sweat pouring from his brow. He had to cancel this match. He already was talked to from corporate. Jezebel was becoming too unpredictable. She was a risk to the Lightning Spangles label. He had to talk to people. Jezebel was already breaking her contract with the boozing it up. Already he was getting rumors about what to do about Jezebel. What to do about Jezebel. Schemes flicker in Jerry's mind.
Jezebel didn't really care about much right now.
She was sleepwalking through the haze of good whiskey. Staggering up through the cooridor, she feels the cheers of the crowd rush over her. She felt warm, and she smiles. "Howdy y'all!" She cries out, waving blindly at the patterns of lights, faces, and chants surrounding her. "Howdy!" She repeats, staggering around in a circle, waving around at the fans. The true fans. Fans who didn't believe she really hurt a fan. That she wasn't destroyed by Momoko's Spirit. Fans who would stand by her forever. Turning around, arms out, she finally casts a glance at the hero-killer in the center ring, oblivious about the real differences between them.
"Well, bake my biscuits, that must be Cracker Jack!"
Lightning Spangles' voice calls out loud, too loud. Nearly yodeling out to the entire crowd, she moseys to the edge of the ring. Groping at the ropes, she continues to blearly cry out. "I'm Lightning Spangles, the All-American Hero! And I'm the holder of the Championship Pro Belt of the Wiiiiiild West!" She struggles, trying to pull herself up. Fighting with the ropes, she stumbles back. Laughing out loud, she waves to the crowd, turning her back to the ring. "Howdy y'all!" She repeats, before she turns back towards the ring. With a final pull, she essentially throws herself under the ropes, rolling on the padded ground of the ring drunkenly. The smell of whiskey was strong in the ring. "Howdy y'all!" She repeats, sitting upright, swaying side to side. She looks at Cracker Jack, and tips her hat.
She turns her back on the man, to pull herself upright on the ropes.
COMBATSYS: Cracker Jack has started a fight here.
Cracker Jack 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Jezebel has joined the fight here.
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Cracker Jack 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Jezebel
Cracker Jack watches the clearly drunk Lightning Spangles stumble into the stadium, his grin turning into a smirk as he pushes off the turnbuckle and moves into the center of the ring, moving like a panther in a cage. The handlers are here, and they're throwing him a wounded goat instead of more raw meat. Delicious. "Well well well. If looks like Jezebel is juiced up." Chuckling as he taps his bat in his hand, he listens to some of the cheers go quiet as the fans see their hero stumble about, and he watches her quietly, not responding to her taunts. He merely waits. He's a professional bouncer still, he can see when a drunk is about to get the spins. It's all a matter of hydration. If you drink water when you drink alcohol, you never puke or get dizzy or pass out. That's how you do it if you've ever worked at a bar, or known a medical student. But if you're a dickhead cowgirl? He laughs uproariously. You're probably drinking straight whiskey backstage.
"HEY!" comes Cracker Jack's shout as he attempts to lock his baseball bat around Jezebel's neck from behind and yank her backwards and off her feet, holding the bat with his right hand at the handle and locking his left arm behind it. "Nice ass!" He then wrenches about to throw her into the center of the ring.
COMBATSYS: Cracker Jack successfully hit Jezebel with Cracker Blitz.
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Cracker Jack 0/-------/-----==|===----\-------\0 Jezebel
The cheers were slowly dying.
Jezebel used to be good at hiding it when she was younger. When she was just a television star, when she had friends and coworkers ready to cover for her. Kids would sometimes think she was just funny. It helped her react. When she was young, she could always be Lightning Spangles. But Lightning Spangles was older now, and Jezebel was older. Rusty on hiding it. If she was sober, she might feel the terror overtaking her as the cheers waste away. As it becomes more and more obvious that she was utterly blitzed out of her mind. But she wasn't sober.
And she was getting blitzed off her ass.
Lightning Spangles barely throws up an instinctive guard by the time Cracker Jack is upon her. Like with Jerry, her reflexes were still tuned. Unlike Jerry, though, Cracker Jack made a living of taking drunks like her and beating the shit out of them. The actress is quickly and brutally overpowered, choking at the bat around her neck briefly. And with a jostle, she is hurled head over heels right into the center of the ring. There weren't shouts, there weren't screams. There was just a general murmuring as it dawns on what is happening. Jezebel is curled in a heap in the center, writhing around to her knees for a moment.
And there, she heaves.
Vomitting from the sudden, violent assault, the pool of brown liquid piles up. Straight fluid. Not even any backstage snacks with it, Jezebel. Moaning, she forces herself up to a stand, her shining Spangle vest stained with bile. Staring at Cracker Jack with glazed eyes, she sways a bit. There weren't any cheers. But it was okay. She didn't need to perform for them. She just had to put on the show. Smiling dumbly, she puts up her guard, instincts coming in with precision.
"Well ain't that a kick in the head!"
Lightning Spangles comes rolling in, her footwork coming fast and steady. Launching towards the bouncer, she cries out in the full cowgirl spirit. "YEEEEEEE HAAAW!" She belts out, face red, lips still dripping in drool. She lashes out with a roundhouse kick with the right, attempting to lay the pressure on Cracker Jack hard. A roundhouse from the left keeps the momentum going, the woman unleashing staggering power with each blow. A third roundhouse comes, the relentless assault trying to drive Cracker Jack into the corner. Should she manage to corner him? Then the woman would pivot for a last roundhouse... but instead bring it high, raising it straight up. She would hold it there for a mere second, an opening to exploit, before slamming it down hard into a bone-shattering heel kick. She was drunk.
But she was still a fighter.
COMBATSYS: Jezebel successfully hits Cracker Jack with Quick and the Dead.
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Cracker Jack 0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0 Jezebel
Cracker Jack snaps his head to the left, twisting his chin upwards as he feels his neck pop, before he repeats the movement to the right. Alright, he's loosened up and ready to play. He watches her vomit, judging just how much comes out of her with the practiced eye of a Vietnam War triage surgeon judging a gutshot. As she stands, he smirks. "Looks like you do your best work drunk. Performance anxiety?" he asks as she gets closer before he gets kicked in the head. His hat goes flying off his head with the first kick, stumbling backwards as his body jerks. The second kick causes his body to go limp for a split second, bat drooping before stiffening, and the third slams him into the turnbuckle as his knees give out. Then, the heel kick slams down into his shoulder, and he emits a grunt of pain, before he surges out of the turnbuckle, angry. "Think about performance drunks..." He drops to a knee, his right shoulder smarting as he shifts to put his left side forward. "They crumble when you pummel their vitals!" He dashes forward in a duck to push his shoulder into her to force her out of the corner, before he sinks a close range left fist into her stomach with an uppercut. "First, the body!" he spits as he rises up to his feet with the dashing straight complete, his knuckles aimed at her upper intestine.
COMBATSYS: Jezebel endures Cracker Jack's Dashing Straight.
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Cracker Jack 0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\0 Jezebel
The crowd was not cheering.
Right now, the crowd didn't know what was happening. The heroine was broken, she was not right in her head. She was drunk; those out of the know would just be confused. But those in the know... those in the know would know that Lightning Spangle didn't drink. Shouldn't drink. And yet, the staggering assault of kicks came to a close, nearly dropping the black hat in the ring. There was a smattering of applause. But no cheers. Already, Cracker Jack was coming back. He had the right idea on how to deal with a drunk. Jezebel never dealt with bouncers; she always drank alone, in the dark. It wasn't raw experience and power that kept her on an even keel with the experienced thug.
But it was the subtle touches.
Sober, Lightning Spangles had instincts. Not proper instincts, the kind of instincts you get from discipline and training. No, these were the instincts she picked up while in her blue period. When she was stone drunk, and being shoved into whatever B-movie exploitative crap in Hong Kong. She was beaten, she was bruised, she did all her own stunts. When the 'High Kicking Cowgirl' wasn't exposing herself in the most humilitating ways possible, she was being kicked, punched, smashed with boards, thrown off buildings, and even burned with coals. Throughout that drunken haze, she learned instincts to keep herself going. So when Cracker Jack rolls in with a staggering combo, she doesn't crumble.
She just cracks.
"Woooo doggie!" She cries out as she is sent backwards by the shoulder check. She's open for the uppercut, that slams right into her vitals. Another gush of bile forces out, as the woman unglamourously retches. But Lightning Spangles' face wasn't pained. No, it was grinning stupid, lips dretched in that foul brown mixture of stomach juices and whiskey. "You got a whole lot of gumption, pardner! But you are gonna need more than... than that pardner!" She responds, her hands coming down like claws for Cracker Jack's collar and beltline. In close quarters, her long legs weren't coming to the full bear. But should she get her grips on the bouncer, she would ignore the throbbing agony that was overtaking her torso. She might even ignore the searing pain running through her throat. Should she get her grips on Cracker Jack? She would pivot, hurling him up into the air... And immediately snap a staggering kick before he hits the mat, to send him hurtling towards a turnbuckle. All with the most important thing:
A YEEEEEEE HAAAAAAW!
COMBATSYS: Jezebel successfully hits Cracker Jack with Hang 'Em High.
? Strange Hit! ?
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Cracker Jack 1/------=/=======|=======\=------\1 Jezebel
Cracker Jack emits a howl as he's thrown into the air, before being kicked across the ring into the turnbuckle. He strikes it upside down and bounces off, his bat flying from his hand and hitting the ground with a thunk. It rolls away as Jack falls onto his face, blood dripping from his mouth and onto the mat, and the bouncer stares into the floor, his head spinning. "Guh..." He pushes himself to his feet, stiff and his back hurting from the powerful kick, and turns to face Jezebel. His hand comes up and he wipes the blood onto his sleeve.
"Alright, that wasn't bad." Cracker Jack advances again, and dashes forward after a few steps. He attempts to grab Lightning Spangles and hoist her over his head by her outfit, thrusting her up into the air. If he manages to keep her there, he begins to spin her. "THIS! IS! YOUR! HERO!" he shouts, before throwing her out of the ring and onto the concrete floor of the outer arena.
COMBATSYS: Jezebel blocks Cracker Jack's Cyclone Toss.
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Cracker Jack 1/-----==/=======|=======\==-----\1 Jezebel
Cheers begin to come out.
In spite of their hero's condition, in spite of her drunken presence, the crowd saw that Lightning Spangles was still, as ever, the fighter that she always was. And in spite of the disgusting saturation of booze in her, the crowd was warming up to the drunker Lightning Spangles.
Especially after she knocks Cracker Jack into a corner.
"YEEEEEE HAAAAAW!" Comes the cry as Lightning Spangles waves towards the audience. Everything felt warm. Her body was aching, but everything felt so warm. The spotlights were on her. She felt free. No cruel voices, no harsh words. Just the calming buzz of a true American hero. She felt something breaking the warmth, the cries of the crowd. 'Watch out Lightning Spangles!' they said. 'Watch out behind you!' She stops her waving, dropping back into her guard as she turns.
And she is lifted high into the air.
Raised high up over Cracker Jack, she is quickly spun around. She dry heaves; her stomach unable to procure much more liquor from her. Nauseated and sick, she is finally released to the moans and boos of the crowd. Instinctively, she tucks and rolls. She does leave the ring, but she is not out of control. She doesn't smash into the concrete, but tumbles. Deftly rolling along the impact, her clothes are torn, her torso becoming even more ravaged. But soon, she rises up from the roll.
Right by some children at the side lines.
"Wow, Lightning Spangles, you smell like daddy!" Once of the red haired children pipes up. Lightning Spangles just laughs. "Don't worry pardner, don't you worry one bit!" Lightning Spangles ruffles the boys hair too roughly, the boy wincing in pain. "Ow!" He exclaims, as Lightning Spangles walks away from him. No autographs. No words of encouragement. Lightning Spangles always forgot to do those extra things when Jezebel was drunk. Jerry reached the sidelines now, and he was on a phone. Lightning Spangles didn't notice. She was just focusing on Cracker Jack right now. Her body hurt.
But her eyes were on fire.
"You really think you can work against the hearts of every man, woman, and child in this arena, pardner?" She calls out, pointing a finger at Cracker Jack. "I'm Lightning Spangles, the rootin' tootin' straight-shootin' cowgirl! I'm gonna take you behind the woodshed, and slap you sillier than a three-legged cow!" Gripping the sides of the ring, she rolls under the ropes, perking right up... and nearly losing her balance. Grabbing the side ropes, she eases herself, before outright striking a pose. Staring straight at Cracker Jack, her bright-red face goes into a sparkling grin. "I'm gonna show you just how we do things right." Thrusting an arm in the air, waves of red, white, and blue energy cascade over her, spreading across the ring floor in ripples.
COMBATSYS: Jezebel burns with the AMERICAN SPIRIT!
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Cracker Jack 1/-----==/=======|=======\======-\1 Jezebel
Cracker Jack picks his bat back up, and raises it above his head, thrusting it upwards. "CAN YOU DIG IT!" he shouts at the booing crowd, before he breaks out laughing. He loves that movie. As Jezebel climbs back up into the ring, he watches her taunting him with a smirk, seeing the charging moment. He better not take any chances with this one. Gotta hit her fast. "Alright, Spangles. If that is your real name. I think you just made a serious mistake. I am going to get this belt, for Lord Vega!" He runs forward, bat being held in both hands. He swings his bat backwards, before swinging it forward, directly at Jezebel's skull, breaking his bouncer rule about women's faces. "BATTAH BATTAH BATTAH!" he bellows, with just a hint of shrill enraged scream as his veins surge.
COMBATSYS: Jezebel guards against Cracker Jack's Home Run King.
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Cracker Jack 0/-------/-----==|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\1 Jezebel
Blocking a baseball bat hurts.
There is no way around it. As waves of enregy cascade over her, Cracker Jack steps up to bat. He comes in fast, roaring in at breakneck speeds. He swings. And Lightning Spangles can only move to block with an arm, protecting her head with her left arm. Energy explodes around her harmlessly as there is a sickening crack. She just barely stands against the impact, barely stopping it with her own limb.
And he cleanly breaks her arm.
"Lord Vega?!?" She responds, shoving back as the searing pain rips through her inebriated state. The crowd gasps at the name called out. Of course, it was all part of the show. Lightning Spangles always had the biggest villains, right? The actress didn't know if it was reality or fantasy either. But that grand slam... hurt. Her arm dangles uselessly as she leans into the ropes, staggering back. For a moment, she is able to keep standing... but the cries of the crowd come as Lightning Spangles falls to a crouch, collapsing down. She puts her other hand on the floor, trying to keep herself balanced. She grits her teeth.
And the energy around her reignites.
"Well if you are gonna stand for Lord Vega, then you better prove it pardner!" Lightning Spangles cries out as the full American energy rises around her like a fountain. "You think you got what it takes to win this belt, to take it away from America? You think you can do it for America's worst enemy? Then come on, pardner! Show me just how much you can dish out! I'm not afraid."
And neither is MURCIA!"
And with that, she launches forward. Shooting through the air, she spirals through the air. Fiery red, white, and blue energy swim around her form as she fires to the other side of the ring. Spinning, she attempts to simply bowl Cracker Jack over, to draw him up within the cascading form of Lightning Spangles, to carry him right out of the ring. But if she missed...
Then she would have her back towards to the bouncer once again.
COMBATSYS: Jezebel issues a challenge!!
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Cracker Jack 0/-------/-----==|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\1 Jezebel
COMBATSYS: Jezebel successfully hits Cracker Jack with Pale Rider.
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Cracker Jack 0/-------/=======|>>>>>>-\-------\0 Jezebel
Cracker Jack is sent flying to the ground as Lightning Spangles slams into him, his body going spastic as he flips to the mat and then over the ropes, before crashing to the concrete outside the ring. His bat laying beside him, he stares up at the bright lights and hears the crowd roaring for Jezebel, dazed and confused. He spits up a mouthful of blood, before he jerks upwards, sitting up and shaking his head to and fro. "Jesus."
He picks up his bat, and stands up to climb back into the ring. "Lord Vega has a force you cannot deny, Spangles. He has the power over the souls of man." He slips through the ropes, and goes running at Jezebel, swinging his bat at her broken arm to sting her. "How's the arm?!" he grunts as he aims at her fracture, attempting to splinter bone.
COMBATSYS: Jezebel endures Cracker Jack's Aggressive Strike.
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Cracker Jack 1/-------/=======|>>>>>>>\>>>>---\1 Jezebel
It was beautiful.
The crowd roars. This was pure bloodsport. Cracker Jack was unloading the full offense, and in turn, so was their American Hero. Lightning Spangles was throwing herself right into the fray. And Cracker Jack being a 'Vega bad guy' was more than enough to make her Old Glorious charge into a real spectal. Landing on both legs, she breaks from the spin, off-balanced badly. Normally, with both arms, she could at least muster something. But this time, she stumbles. Struggling back up, the crowd screams. 'Watch out Lightning Spangles' the words come out. 'Watch out!' they cry. Lightning Spangles turns, throwing her arm up instinctively. The broken arm. She wasn't going to block. She dimly realizes that. And instead, she forces herself to keep going. Cracker Jack smashes right to the bone.
And Lightning Spangles screams.
Not a heroic scream. Not a dramatic scream. A sream of pain. Cracker Jack had successfully broken through the haze of liquor to the real agony. Bone splinters. A compound fracture comes out. "I... I..." She sobs, tears flying down her face as suddenly, she wakes up from her calming dream to sheer pain.
And Lightning Spangles grits her teeth.
"I'm not done yet!"
She explodes forward, her arm bleeding from the torn open wound with a kick. A thrust kick, a desperate kick. Lightning Spangles was in full octane assault, throwing kick after kick after kick. High and low, left and right. A frenzied kick assault, worthy of Kim Kaphwan himself, just comes out from the actress. She was in pain, she was in agony. But that wasn't the trouble. The trouble was that she was beginning to sober up. She doesn't stop the kicking assault out of exhaustion.
She stops the kicking assault because she realizes what she just done.
"... oh god no" she whispers, stopping the assault cold.
COMBATSYS: Jezebel successfully hits Cracker Jack with True Grit.
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Cracker Jack 1/---====/=======|>>>>>>>\-------\1 Jezebel
Cracker Jack gets kicked left and right by Lightning Spangles' blitzkrieg, stumbling against the ropes as she stops. Blood dripping from his mouth all over neck and down his silk shirt onto his chest. His eyes glaring at her like the devil's himself, his mouth twists into a grin as he staggers forward a step. He grips the bat, then raises the bat up, before bringing it down on her head with both hands. He says nothing, merely attacking Lightning Spangles with the last of his energy. He's barely standing.
COMBATSYS: Cracker Jack successfully hit Jezebel with Grand Slam Crusher.
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Cracker Jack 0/-------/---====|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\1 Jezebel
Everything surges back to Jezebel.
It was only an hour ago. Sitting in the dressing room. The panic. The fear. The fight with Momoko. The 4th of July event being... canceled. Canceled because of concerns about her stability. About her performance. And concerns about... turnout. They blocked challenges to her for a while now. They were worried about her. Everything sat on this match. She couldn't go out there. She couldn't mess up. She tried to drink the water in the ritualistic way. But it wasn't enough.
She drank the devil's drink.
She always kept the drink with her. She always kept whiskey with her. It was her secret lie. She always knew she was going to break. And here she was, as the pain keeps her grounded in reality, here she was, in the middle of reality. She looks out at the crowd. And she saw their smiles. Their cheers. They weren't the look of children, the look of pure innocence and joy. It was comedy. It was mockery. It was satire. They saw through to what she was now. And the children. The real children. She glances towards them. And she there, her heart sinks. True diesease seizes her body, as her resolve is driven out of her. There, she sees the children. Looking away from her.
They wouldn't even look her in the eye.
The blow catches Jezebel in the head. She tried to dodge or... she couldn't blcok anymore, could she? The blow just seizes her, dropping her straight down ot the ground. Blackness and crimson surround her as her hat is knocked flying. It lands right by the children, who finally notice that their former hero had dropped. They look at the hat. And some of them take their own official Lightning Spangles Show Up Hoe Down Cowboy Hats, and toss it after them. Lightning Spangles needed the cheers of the audience, the cheers of the children, just somebody to believe in her. But as she lays on the ground, lays on the padded ring, there are only boos and jeers. Everyone believed in Lightning Spangles.
But nobody believed in a drunk, washed-up hasbeen.
COMBATSYS: Jezebel gives y'all a free turn!
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Cracker Jack 0/-------/---====|=======\=======\1 Jezebel
Cracker Jack feels the satisfying crack of baseball bat on head surge through his hands and arms, closing his eyes and grinning. That felt good. He steps away from Jezebel, walking wide gaited due to various male issues happening right now. He surges his bat in the air to the crowd to shock and awe, laughing. "I'll be taking that belt now, ref!" he announces, stumbling a little as he recovers strength.
COMBATSYS: Cracker Jack gains composure.
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Cracker Jack 0/-------/-----==|=======\=======\1 Jezebel
Jerry looks across to the ring with cold eyes.
He had been on the cellphone through this match. Reporting the... indiscritions of his client. People were pissed. Important people were pissed at that. And now, in front of a loaded audience, she was losing. Embarrassing herself first, and then losing. She... they had worked so hard in getting her back in the spotlight. He had worked so hard to fix her, to make her a real person again.
And she just threw it away.
As Cracked Jack steps away from Lightning Spangles, the crow boos and catcalls. The referee, with a nearby medical team, begin to approach the ring. The ref enters, and hovers over the downed cowgirl. He begins to count. "1.... 2...." And he pauses.
Jezebel begins to writhe slightly on the ground.
The ref holds up three fingers, ready to call it. But he was not certain. He looks to the side lines, at the brown haired man in the suit. Jerry meets eyes with the ref. This could be a chance for a comeback. But the fact was, Jezebel already used up her comebacks. She already wasted them. Jerry shakes his head at the ref. And he speaks, though it is clear that the ref wouldn't hear it over the crowd. "Let him have it."
"Lightning Spangles is done here."
"... 3!!! It's over!" The ref swipes his hands as the crowd begins to riot. Boos come out, and food is flung into the ring. The ref struggles with the downed Jezebel, who was still moving. Pulling the belt off her, he strides towards Cracker Jack as the medical team moves. Approaching the bouncer, he holds it high. "Cracker Jack is the Champion of the Western Pro Belt!" He announces. The crowd continues to boo and hiss... but not towards him as much anymore. Food wasn't being thrown at him. Cups of soda and bags of popcorn and containers of nachos begin to pelt and pile around the downed form of LIghtning Spangles. A hero fell today. But Cracker Jack wasn't to blame.
It was Jezebel's fault.
And they would make her pay.
Cracker Jack takes the belt from the referee and puts it on, grinning a bloody grin and thrusting his arms upwards to the crowd, bat held high. "Thank you, Sunshine City! Lightning Spangles, you just got JACKED!" he shouts, before he begins laughing. He climbs out of the ring, hopping down to the concrete, and strolls out of the stadium to the backroom. A man in a black suit grins at him and slaps him on the shoulder. "Lord Vega is pleased, Jack." "Thank you, sir." The pair move into the back, Cracker Jack taking a seat as Shadaloo medics look him over. He reaches into his fridge, and pulls out a Corona, cracking it open with a bottle opener and taking a long swig.
Log created on 12:49:54 08/31/2015 by Cracker Jack, and last modified on 19:53:57 09/01/2015.