Posted by Simguy on 3/30/2007, 7:32 am.

Before: Stable-animosity marring the press conferences—what with Alana De La Garza and Tricia Helfer baiting and dogging one another; Krista Allen and Brittany Daniel engaging I shrill pushing matches—Durance/Scott fits right in to the overall tense atmosphere. “Big fight,” Ashley nods slowly, emphatically at the podium. “Very big fight. Erica’s a key support at HMKJ: take her away and the whole rotten edifice starts to crumble. I’m gonna set the temp on this girl—give her the kind of beating that’ll take the wind out of Tricia and Brittany’s sails—then my girls will mop up. Make no mistake—when we’re done with HMK. They’re gonna wish this was the ‘Female Celebrity Knitting Association’. Durance pursing her lips, nonplussed at Ashley’s posturing—Erica’s all business at the mic. “Ashley and her girls are a stable of losers,” Durance proclaims, drawing dagger-eyes from the referenced vixens. “There I said it. It’s no wonder they’ve fixated on us and hate us, because we’re everything that they can’t be. The way this is going to go down is We Batter Them—ok? It’s gonna be us ion them, us taking the fight to them, us backing them up and breaking their hearts. Personally, I’m through talking—if Ashley wants to go right now, I’m totally up for that.” They’ll wait the six weeks for the PPV: Ashley in hot pink push up and panties, white glove; Erica sporting dirty blonde curls, baby blue bikini with yellow strings and ring connections, white gloves.

During R1: Erica opens robusto: batting away at Ashley’s hips right/left/right/left—forcing Scott to slide-step away all frowning. pursed lips. Scott sleek, Helfer-like as she slinks to her right, dragging that front (left) foot—touching out her jab to locate Erica in

Her left shoulder; beating Durance to a slicing right hand, pre-empting the Durance right, Erica walking Ashley down, but taking hard, sharpshooting punches—Scott VERY sharp and supple fighting in reverse—walking Erica into sleek right hands and clawing hooks as she melts away and to the right. Durance snarling, throwing VERY hard right hands—but missing as Ashley rolls the blows with her left shoulder, dipping neatly under them. Bell: Erica touched up, seething—Ashley miking demure eye contact, baiting her hot-tempered foe with cattitude.

R2; Erica’s strong to Ashley’s body again, drumming that supple torso with rights and lefts batted hard to flanks. Scott grimacing, shying away—this time Durance pursues behind a spitting jab, disrupting Ashley’s counters, rendering her susceptible to Durance’s withering right. Scott rolling with punches well, taking the sting off them—but Erica’s hounding Ashley to the ropes, starting to enjoy strong shellacking sequences. Scotty covering up peek-a-boo—rolling her torso in a giant circle as she stands up against the strands, trying to nip back uppercuts—but Erica’s not having it. Withering pursuit—Erica on Ashley—Durance snatching hard, hard body punches off Ashley’s ribs with either hand—Erica in wide stance, switching her hips to either side for leverage, Scott keeping her chin off the table—Erica can’t make clean contact with Ashley’s elusive head—but OH, the pounding that sleek cloned chassis takes, Bell: Durance steps back with a hard smile and taunting dimples, prompting a resentful frown from tremble-bodied Ashley.

R3: Durance BANGING those flanks—straight arm blows shivering off Ashley’s ribcage like two-by-fours smacking a cinderblock—Scotty again forced to slink away with a worried/harassed expression, Durance hopping-to, upping her work rate—strong, stroking punches from Erica now as she AND ERICA GETS DROPPED! Scotty with a slick hook off her hip—just twist8ing her torso supple into the shot, drawing her fist across Erica’s jaw and scattering her to all fours—crowd shouting in shock at the sudden sea-change. Durance up but SHABBY! Eyes glassy, limbs wonky—she’s blinking in exaggerated fashion, trying to rally herself as ref checks her out. HERE COMES SCOTTY! Ashley teeth bared, POUNCES on poor Durance—lavishing her with whip-limbed right hand wide to the body with a glorious PAK! of leather in meat. Erica ashambles—tilts forward behind her gloves: Ashley arches her back to lick the right uppercut home, picking up Durance’s drowsy face, putting the hook on top to sit Erica into the ropes. ASHLEY UNLEASHES! Feet wide, torso and hips twisting violently side to side, anchoring a hellish punishment up underneath—ribs, chests, lats all being furiously batted—but Scott working her way up-torso, ringing punches off Erica’s dazed face as well. Crowd screaming—one perfect physical specimen simply stacking another up and going at her with venom—Erica’s slack, stationary, limp stillness contrasting with the electric, supple kinetic energy of Ashley spring-loaded assault, THE REF STEPS IN! Official pushing his way past Ashley’s lathering punches, sheltering poor staring Erica against the ropes—TKO3 in savage fashion—Ashley Scott!

After: Scott mobbed by Landry, Allen, de la Garza—girls hopping in a tight, hugging cluster, overjoyed at the destruction of the formidable Erica. Durance crestfallen, staring and shellshocked as she’s guided to her stool: she won a shootout last time, loses one tonight as crowd-pleasing style comes back to bite. SCOTT WANTS MORE! Strutting villainy as leering Ashley and her cohorts step to the HMK corner, pulling woozy Erica to her feet. Landry secures Erica’s right arm—de la Garza the left—Allen brings up the rear clapping, grinning, and twirling her fist as Ashley leads conquered Erica out for a Group Walk of Shame, Stopping at the corners—Scott displays Erica like she’s a NEW FRIDGE on “The Price is Right”—mimicking TPIR model-style in extravagant fashion. On complete circuit of the ring, then Ashley takes delight in displaying Erica to her own corner: HMK brass and fighters seething outside the ring as Ashley carries on with a big smile, exaggerated hand and wrist gestures, throwing down the gauntlet for all to see,. Durance blinking back tears, face tight—she’s writhing her captured arms, fists clenched white, but she’s held fast at the biceps and wrists—all she can do is shift weight from one hip to the other, and suffer it to be.

Reposted by Archer 2/18/10.