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Before: "If you're asking whether I've forgotten what Camila did last time, the answer is no. I know the risks when you step onto the beach, but I won last time and then she pulls that sh*t? Trust me, she's going to regret that today when I pay her back SO much worse. I'm fine stepping into the JMD space. so we all know Riverdale is over and so is she!" as Millie steps forward to confront Camila, who is speaking to the press. Bullying a surprised Mendes backwards for a moment, Millie takes two fingers, brushing them over her sweaty chest and running them down either side of Camila's nose, who squeals in outrage and Millie snarls, "A little preview for post-fight for you, Cami..." as it's all security can do to keep these two apart at the moment!
Camila gets her breath back, “She’s not mad about my sandy tits,” she proclaims, “she’s mad because she lucked into winning a fight she was losing. I exposed her for the punk kid she is, and she’s never going to forgive me for that! I welcomed her to the REAL FCBA, and she should thank me for it!”
Ringpost in sand setup. Camila wearing her famous black high-waisted bikini, black gloves, chin-length hair loose around her hair. Millie in a red triangle-cut bikini, matching gloves, hair down in twin braids. Both fighters barefoot in the sand
R1: Camila doubling her jab as she edges in sideways, looking to engage Millie at close quarters with nubby little hooks. Brown also jabbing, seeking lithe right uppercuts to intercept Mendes on her move-in-then carving across the hook while torso-turning right to point the left shoulder on follow-through, Spirited stuff, ‘Mila doing very well when she can establish inside and snap off flirty combinations to Millie’s flat tummy and haughty breasts. Brown stepping out, always looking for distance: she wants the jab, the buggywhip right hand, then straight right shot—relying on left hooks and uppercuts to deal with Mendes in close. During the break, Millie very attentive as Julie Benz calmly tells her: “This girl hooks off either footshe’s real tidy with it, okay—she can nick you with it from 6 inches away so you need to be all the way out—all right? Millie, you touch her and then get out.”
R2: Millie initiates, fights, and wins little set-piece exchanges all over the sand: girls bobbing and rolling on the spot, hands up/elbows in tight to bodies. Not much to hit - both girls digging hooks in behind right elbows, or working tidy right/left uppercuts against opposing guards. Brown bouncing a right hand off Camila's hairline at one point, and snaping her head back stiffly at another, just doing enough to edge her out. Importantly, anytime Millie reaches under ‘Mila's arms to get tummy to tummy and work from the clinch? Mendes either disengages to scamper away, or hangs on tight for ref's breaks.
R3: Series of compact, very hard-fought exchanges: short, clipping combinations from both girls - each covering up well, bobbing her head, pivoting smartly to the side to avoid getting lit up. Millie's weight of shot slowly decisive: her punches POP! POP! off Camila's guard, driving the brunette out of her stance into stepping retreats. Brown walking Mendes down, but cautiously: New Year’s Day manhandling purchasing her tons of respect at this point.
R4: More quick-fisted two-way between two beautiful, well-schooled vixens, First two minutes hotly contested—with Camila paying the price to get inside, then outfighting Millie when girls get shoulder to shoulder. ‘Mila’s bread and butter definitely the left hand—very short n’ sneaky with it as she shrugs or twitches off the hooks in tight, or features that tasty jab off the hip. Final minute, Brown no loner able to disengage: she’s flat footed; left across her tummy, right up at her cheek, just rolling and parrying shots as Mendes works her over. Good times for Camila: mauling Millie with brisk lefts and rights chopped in short to head and shoulders; chipping the jab at her face; turning her Brit and backing her up. Bell: A frazzled Millie turns away with a frown; Grinning ‘Mila gets a two-handed tugging grip on those braids, REEFS Brown’s head back and drags the off-balance former champ to a seat in the sand! Crowd roaring; Mendes prancing; Julie screeching; Brown seething as Mendes pounces right back into the action.
R5: Enraged Millie drives Camila to ropes: smothering reciepts, packing her tummy full of right hands. Squirming, sloppy stuff: each fighter writhing, pushing against her tormentress. Punch n' clutch gives way to steady chugging assault: Brown fighting off Mendes’ chest, punching breath from lungs. It's all too much, ‘Mila stricken, absorbing punches from collar bone to navel...she wilts to one knee, gasping. Crowd erupts, Millie beaming, struts away hands high as shaken Mendes takes her 8. Brown right back on ASAP: carrying a right hand into Camila's breadbasket; hooking her mouth tidy; scolding her breasts a wiping right; clipping her chin a stubby left uppercut. It's all Millie straining forward, getting off and loving it; Camila compressed against ropes, sponging and hating it. Pumping right hands under left breast have Mendes in a bad way: she's startled by a left hook to chin - her eyes closed, eyebrows high, mouth wide open; she never sees the right hand to her forehead that lifts her off her feet, spins her around, hangs her over the top rope at the bell, Brown pumping a pair of thumps into her kidneys before the ref can pull her away.
R6: Millie keeps pressing the pace. First—head movement more committed—constant bobbing and weaving on the approach, Second—good stiff, stubby jab—punching at Camila’s chest or guard just to occupy her and cover Brown’s own step in. Then, ringing, ripping punches in combination, really batting away with authority on that Mendes torso. ‘Mila still too cute defensively to give up a clean look at her chin this easily, but Millie’s pounding effectively to ribs, tummy&tits. Mendes avoids the shutout with sneaky little right hand counters from her closed stance—often finding Brown with a shifty little right uppercut off the back foot in counter. Bell; Millie jogs back to her corner, encouraged by her work.
R7: Camila panting, frazzled, but determined: she rallies off her stool, initiating toe-to-toe midring. Shoulder to shoulder, Mendes shrugs in the harm: little right uppercut neat to chin; snatching left hook tart to liver; little left shoulder bump, pivot-left around it. Camila ducks, stays close - her left shoulder in Millie's tummy as Brit's missing over top. Mendes back with the tidy short-shrug combos - swiping, swatting, cuffing. Brown wobbling off her stance at times, staring, baffled: she's swinging hard, missing mostly, or getting blocked as Camila works pocket-boxing to perfect. Bell: nipping left hook swipes Millie's trunks, bunching her up "UH!" as ‘Mila stalks past.
R8: Camila's face hard with Millie-hate. Brown fighting in retreat - trying to keep Mendes off with check-jabs, trying to flurry-and-sidestep in desperate bids to keep fight midring. ‘Mila ripping sidearm lefts and rights to Millie's ribs, rookie crying out, blinking away tears...she's crumbling mentally, fading to ropes, trying to ride this round out. Mendes stepping-to, unleashes a savage barrage of hooks as Brown's bobbing on the spot, sliding to her right, hitting her own corner in disarray. Camila walking her down - triggering the straight lead right down into tummy, not shying away from Millie’s tight abs in the least. Brown covering up earmuff, stooping forward butt-on-turnbuckle: OH how Mendes hooks the body - getting in thick behind right elbow. Hooks and bumping left shoulders sorting Millie out; drilling straight rights stamping into tummy, exploring her beneath her elbows. Brown crying out, Mendes bounces left hook off waist; bobs on the spot; unleashes sidearm right hard to left flank; dips n' DIGS left hook to liver and DOWN GOES MILLIE! Brown hugging her body, tumbling to sand, rolling to her back all gasping and sobbing. It's over - Millie can't get off her back...that's KO8 for Camila Mendes as she bursts back into the flyweight title picture!
After: Millie helped to her feet by her hair, bottoms are grabbed to shove her through the ropes, letting Camila take her time with this tribute. Brown standing, arms at her sides - staring straight ahead - eyes welling up as she tightens her lips. Mendes casually draping her left arm around Millie's head to walk her out of the corner for more chatting along the perimeter. Camila folds Brown’s face to breast… then pulls her head back by those braids - grinning at the crowd's reaction. Millie shaking at the stay of execution, blurts "COME ON!" Mendes’ smile disappears as she glares tuff-girl at Brown: "What the hell did you just say?" When there’s no answer Camila pulls her roughly in: face hits breast with an audible slap. Mendes snarling, left arm constricting in behind Brown's head, clutching her slender right bicep; right hand taking a fistful of damp hair. They stamp about as Camila reefs and clinches, Millie with her hands gripping onto the ties at her tormentor’s hips. After a good long smother, Brown's legs start to give, and Mendes releases, allowing the former champion to wander blinking and sleepy around the sand.
Camila playing to the crowd, taking her time walking Millie down from behind - then she reaches to pull on Brown’s braids, yanking the blonde back and around for more jug. Mendes biting her lower lip with concentration as she feels Brown's face into position - cinching and adjusting with her arms. Again, Millie’s legs eventually go: Camila releases, allowing her prey to sink down to her right knee.
On and on and on like that - Camila expertly gauging the black-out point and releasing just before Millie succumbs. Brown a bleak sight, hair matting against damp face, Mendes’s got one hand in a kneeling Millie's hair: Camila totally unhurried, letting Mish recover before clamping down again. Finally, Brown sits with legs outstretched, hands up, pushing at Camila's full breasts and flat tummy. Millie's face all moist and pasty from the intoxicating cocktail of tears, sand and sweat. Mendes kisses Brown's forehead a frisky peck, sits back on her haunches, flipping hair off her shoulders and smiling. Millie distraught, hands dropping to her lap, lips pursed in groggy whimpering: she relaxes, thinking it's over. Suddenly, Camila's up on her knees and pushing in, resecuring the smother as Brown's cry of protest is cut off by flesh. Millie hugs hips, yanking up and down on the bottoms covering Camila's toned buttocks. Mendes pours the jug at Brown now - putting the finish touch on. When she sits back on her haunches this time, Millie’s torso slumps to the left, flopping on the sand as she’s deep in jug-shocked slumber.
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