Rainbow Mika vs. Army 'Armando' Rodriguez - Cyclone Warning

In the shadows, in the dark corners of the gorilla position, he watched the match unfold. He had been staring up at the screen for a few moments now, saying little, merely standing there with his arms folded. He would to stroke his beard on occasion, make the sporadic grunt when something of interest occurred, but aside from that? Silence.

He was thinking.

When Rainbow Mika had been suggested as his future opponent, he had been skeptical. He knew of the woman, naturally, but had not seen her in competition to often in the past few years. While he did not doubt her talent, he knew that such skill could dull over time. Like a fine blade, it had to be tempered often, or else it would lose its edge. He feared that would be the case here, as well.

But now, as he watched Rainbow Mika tear into her opponent, saw the fire in her eyes, those doubts were being assuaged. He looked on as she performed another impressive, one of many that she had displayed in this match. Lifting Army up, taking him by the legs, she spun him around and around, swinging the Puerto Rican about like he was a ragdoll. This was no easy task - he was a large man, after all. But she was not dissuaded in her task, did not falter in her drive. She hurled him about and let him go with an impressive burst of strength, leaving him to roll about all the way to the corner. Aching, sluggish, no doubt dizzied, all he could was grab the pads and make a weak attempt to rise. Rainbow Mika had waylaid him.

”Yes.” He nodded and gave his proud beard another stroke. ”She will do.”

Mika's throw worked as intended, hurling Army across the ring to land in an ungaingly, hurting heap in the corner. Already, he was trying to push himself upright, grabbing at the pads in a weak effort to try to get back to his feet. Unknown to him, Mika was already striding after him, Reaching down, Mika helped Army up by yanking on his arm, pulling him to a staggered standing position, before one arm around his waist and another around his thigh, gritting her teeth as she tried to hoist him up on top of the turnbuckle.

If she managed this, then Mika would climb to the tope rope in front of Army, intent on nailing him with one of her finishers. As the crowd went wild, she would loudly declare "WINGLESS! AIRPLANE!" So saying, she would leap back, snapping up her legs as she fell to scissor them around Army's head.

If all went according to plan, she would springboard off the top rope, flipping Army head over heels to crash back-first into the mat, and land straddling his chest in a schoolgirl pin position...

Army was in the middle of his own hurricane, his world spun about, his mind reeling. Rainbow Mika was proving to be an expert when it came to pouring on the pressure, leaving him stunned and dazed as he tried to keep up with her. He knew enough about her matches to recognize the problem here, to see that she was falling into her finishing pattern and the boom would be lowered on him soon enough, but it wouldn’t matter if he wasn’t in a position to actually do anything to stop her.

Which he wasn’t.

He was out of it, and when she came to scoop him up, he was barely able to twitch out his resistance as she lifted him up and placed him on the top rope. Loopy, stunned, he shook his head about and tried to get it clear, but by the time he managed to see straight she was already on him. Legs clamped around his skull, held tight, and he went flying.

Up. Over. Down. He crashed into the mat hard, driven by gravity and her own momentum, hitting with enough force to bounce up after the initial impact. Rainbow Mika was on him an instant later, settling into the exact position she needed, and the referee started up her count without delay.

”1…!”

Mika's ample chest rose and fell as she ended up straddling Army's own chest, sitting astride him in a very dominant pinning position. Though her knees were pinning his shoulders down to the mat, she didn't need to do much more than that: such was the battering he had taken that Army was barely resisting at all. She merely sat astride him, caught her breath, and silently counted down along with the ref, and the audience.

Nearby, the ref continued that countdown. "...2..."

”3…!”

That clenched it. The referee’s hand hit the mat for the final time and the bell rang along with it, it’s noise only exceeded by the amped-up crowd. They hadn’t been sure what to expect when they saw this on the ticket, but now that it was over, they weren't coming out disappointed - the match had been a solid one, a rare chance to see one of Japan’s most famous wrestlers in her fighting prime. All things considered, you couldn’t ask for too much more.

The fans were pleased, and Army had to say, he was among them. He wanted a win, but a lose like that wasn’t the worst thing to come off with. He’d given it his all, she did the same, and he was pinned, fair and clean. There wasn’t much to complain about. Do better next time.

”Huh. You still got it.” He managed a weak chuckle, as he started to shift underneath her, making an attempt to get back up. ”Not bad. Not bad at all.”

The bell rang, signaling Mika's victory. Still perched on Army's chest, she raised her arms in victory, basking in the exultant cheers of her fans, her fingers forming into V-signs as she saluted the cheering audience. Next to her, the referee quickly held up one of her hands as they announced her as the winner.

It was only then, though, when her downed opponent spoke, that Mika realized she was still sitting on Army.

"O-oh!" she stammered. "Whoops!" she stepped off of her downed opponent, and gracious extended a hand to pull him up. "Still got it? Heh, I never lost it!" she declared. "You just weren't ready to face my butt in the ring, that's all! Byyyy the way...you said something about having a poster you wanted me to sign?"