Justice vs Anarchy (Standard, 1 fall)

Anne glistened with a thin veneer of sweat and her breathing came in humid puffs through her parted lips. Had James spoken his thoughts aloud she would likely have told him that she was in anarchist dream. Placing a hand upon the top rope to steady herself the punk rocker girl stared down at her opponent. She wanted to try finishing this again, but he was too near the ropes for that. Should she drag him away? Yeah, that was how you got kicked in the nose... cause that's what she'd do.

Sneering down at him she hissed out her reply "You're already beaten. And I ain't your sister." This she would punctuate with a flurry of quick stomps to either beat down her foe or else drive him from his unintentional refuge.

James grunted with each kick as she stomped on him before he went limp. He couldn't take this abuse from her any longer. He was going to lose and he knew it, but at least he could try to put up some fight, "All anarchists...are brothers and sisters." he groaned softly

Nothing ventured; nothing gained. It looked like she was going to have to remove him from the corner by force if she wanted to end this without simply stomping his head into the mat... not that she was above such violence. Bending down she took a firm hold of his hair. "I think you're confusing anarchy with communism, comrade. Anarchy... *huff* is about individualism, not collectivism. And that's what family is." After betraying a little more of her intellect that she usually would she would attempt to drag him towards the center of the ring by the hair.

James could do nothing to fight her, he shouldn't have let her get him down in the beginning of the match. He cried out in pain and the ref began to count her out for the hair pulling. James' lip hadn't stopped bleeding nor had his nose which had just started bleeding.

Anne growled her annoyance as the ref chided her. Stupid rules and their capricious restrictions. Why was hair pulling any worse than face punches? Sighing her compliance she reached one hand around to grasp the back of James' head, the other settling beneath his chin to drag him fully by the head. "Any cooperation among anarchists *huff huff* is a willing and voluntary one, not the implicit association of relatives." If the mics had picked her up some of her stable-mates would have fainted. She didn't say 'fuck' once!

James gasped softly and grit his teeth. He would slowly begin to stand, trying to turn around to face his opponent, "There can be orders of anarchists, you may not have heard of them." he would then attempt to head butt her. If successful, he would then knee her in the stomach and drape a leg over her head for the anarchist's dream.

Anne managed to get James back to the center of the ring, but much to her chagrin he decided to actually start fighting back now. He said something about organizations of anarchists, and she made to point out that those didn't refute her assertions. However before she could speak their heads cracked together with a dull thump. She stumbled back half a step just in time to be kneed in the gut, folding over partially with a 'hurk' noise. Still recovering from this sudden onslaught a long leg with thrown over her head driving her down towards the mat.

Her head bounced followed after a short delay by her body as she crashed down beneath the man's finisher. Why did everyone have to go for her head every time? She'd lost enough brain cells, damnit! Her head spinning she lifted herself up onto her hands and knees with a groan. Simply out of spite Anne would throw a fist at James' thigh as if simply to say 'cut the crap'. "Ugh... Orders are voluntary. Families are obligatory... So I ain't your sister."

James rolled her on her back and quickly went for the cover, hooking one of her legs, "Whatever you say." he hissed as the ref slid next to them and slapped the mat, "One!" James smiled, "Stay down and I'll reward you afterward." he smiled and closed his eyes.

Anne did was not particularly fond of being slammed on the head, however she'd been in more than enough matches with King to take such blows in stride. It certainly took some of her enthusiasm down a bit, but she was far from finished. Rolling easily onto her back, she smirked up at James before kicking out with a grunt. "You don't seem the type who likes girls who'd just lay down and take it for you."

Rolling onto her knees she wouldn't wait to retake her feet before mounting her own counter assault. Lunging forward she would throw a straight jab for her fellow anarchist's head. "Think, if you'd just stayed down I was gonna sit on your face for you." She said as if this would have been a favor, and perhaps it was.

As soon as the jab connected, he straightened up, went limp and fell onto his back. He couldn't take anymore of this punishment, blood covered his face and he seemed to be choking on it.