Beyonce Vs. Helvetica Lee

Beyonce pulled her bloody, saliva coated tongue from Helvetica's mouth when she finally opened her mouth and let go. She didn't even look at it and instead opened and closed her fist.

Beyonce continued to stare unflinchingly at Helvetica as she pushed against her leg and when she asked to be released, she obliged, pulling her hands off of Helvetica's nose. She then pulled her arm away, closed her fist and drove it right back at Helvetica's face, looking to punch the girl in the same nose she was just holding closed.

For a brief moment, Helvetica thought she had a moment to think. Clearly, she thought, her expertly-applied side-mounted leg stretch (as she'd just named it now, in her head) was taking its toll. The soft American wrenched the leg as best she could, which essentially amounted to her hugging it a bit harder.

The "student of the game" failed to notice Beyonce's unwavering stare. Instread, she scrunched her face, still trying to block out the massive pain that Beyonce had inflicted upon it. Up until said face caught yet another fist, a sharp and unerring blow delivered square on the nose.

Hevletica reeled back, releasing Beyonce's leg as her arms windmilled clumsily all about. "Ghhaahhhnn!" Helvetica wailed, her body swaying backwards as she tried to right herself.

"Fuck!" Helvetica shouted, opening and closing her tear-blurred eyes. If she had the cognizance, Helvetica would have noticed the trail of blood that Beyonce had drawn from her, running down her face. "Gawwwd ..." Helvetica said, trying to shake the cobwebs out. "That- that was a hit! Goddam!" Helvetica tried to get up to one knee, but lacked the coordination, in her shape. "You've got a punch! Is that it? Come on, I want to see you wrestle! You can't- guhh!- Can't just rely on brawling, can you?"

Beyoncé watched as Helvetica flailed and whined. The Japanese-Egyptian took a few steps backwards and sized up the American. The girl wanted to see a wrestling move? Beyonce could give her one but Helvetica wouldn't like it.

With some distance between them, Beyonce bent her knees. She charged at "the student of the game" and hopped up and pressed her foot in the girl's ample chest. She then swung her other knee at Helvetica's face, looking to continue to mangle Helvetica's nose with a brutal Shining Wizard. That was a wrestling move, right?

Helvetica staggered and swayed, still trying to keep her back off the mat. Her vision was beginning to un-blur, but her thinking was still incredibly fuzzy. She could see Beyonce's impressive figure slinking away from her, at least. Unless she was about to chide some indistinct blob. It didn't matter, whatever it was, it could probably use Helvetica's expert advice anyway.

"Don't run," Helvetica shouted, her voice husky through her damaged face, "those marks in the crowd will think- nn, that hurts- think you're a fucking coward! Come on!"

Helvetica was attemption to motion Beyonce forward, while still failing to rise off her shaky-at-best legs. The end result was that when Beyonce came charging in with the sharp shining wizard, it had an element to it that looked a bit like clubbing a seal.

Helvetica hit the mat hard, falling onto her side with her eyes wide, her mouth open in a broad "o." Her face was dampening the mat, now, in a combination of blood, sweat and tears. The American twitched for a moment, shaking her head in disbelief. "Thugh, thuh ..." she gasped, trying to push words out through her increasingly brutalized face. "Th-that ... still ... a strike, tuh-tech. Technically."

Beyonce watched Helvetica flop to the ground and looked at her. The girl was still mumbling. The fight was over before it started and Helvetica was still going. Beyonce wasn't sure if the girl was stupid, masochistic or both, but Beyonce didn't care. This girl did not deserve to be in a ring one bit.

The Japanese-Egyptian shoved Helvteica onto her stomach and then raised her foot in the air and dorve her heel as hard as she could into the back of Helvetica's head to force her nose as hard into the mat as she could. She then pressed her full weight down onto the "Student of the Game's" head.

"If you still have consciousness, I suggest you do as much as possible to convince the referee you do not." She said coldly as the referee knelt by Helvetica to check to see if she had been knocked out cold.

Helvetica offered little to no resistance, as she got shoved onto her belly. The squirming and struggling of the chubby American had been ebbing significantly with every swift blow Beyonce had delivered to her face. Each strike had almost surgical precision, hitting the "student of the game" in exactly the right spot to wear her down. Helvetica's face was a battered, bruised mess, and she was completely unprepared as Beyonce brought her heel ruthlessly down onto her skull.

A burst of blood emerged from Helvetica's face, as it was pressed against the mat. Helvetica's legs bucked upwards, with the force of the blow. She could feel her forehead and bangs sticking to the mat. She knew she wasn't thinking clearly, but she couldn't believe how ruthless, how efficient Beyonce had been, in this match.

When the ref got in there, Beyonce was beside herself. She was being asked if she was giving up. Seriously? Helvetica had never given up, in her life. And this woman, this gorgeous, ruthless woman, still had so much to learn from the perfect wrestling critic. She couldn't just give up now, could she? Still, actually forming words proved difficult, despite how important it was.

Beyonce didn't budge. She crossed her arms under her chest and put even more weight on the back of Helvetica's head as she waited for the referee's, or probably more importantly, Helvetica's decision.

"Hkk!" Helvetica managed to grunt, as Beyonce's knee settled on the back of her neck, driving her bruised face even further into the unforgiving mat. Still, the ref was bent over her, anticipating Helvetica's submission.

"Do you give up?"

Helvetica's outstretched finger bounced around a little more, frantically waving and wiggling in the ref's face. Until, finally, Helvetica managed to regain enough air in her lungs to start making words, again.

"N-no," Helvetica grunted, blood still trailing from her nose across the canvas. "J-just show me ... you c-can do ... one real move ..."

"You're a fool."

It was all Beyonce needed to say but she stepped off of Helvetica.She leaned down, pressing one knee into the base of Helvetica's shoulder. She then grabbed the girl's arm pulled up. She pressed the base of her palm into Helvetica's elbow as she pulled backwards at the wrist like the girl's arm was a twig.

In Beyonce's hands it might as well have been. She wasn't sure if this counted as a wrestling move for the "student of the game," but maybe once Beyonce broke the girl's arm, she'd finally shut up.

The aching pain in her face kept Helvetica from hearing Beyonce's words, or the referee's continued urging to give up the match.  But if there was one thing that the "student of the game" would do, it was give up.  Even when she needed to.  Really, really needed to.

The American could feel her frail arm getting hoisted up into Beyonce's grip, twisted into a dangerously precarious position.  Part of Helvetica was actually excited, feeling Beyonce twist her into something resembling a kimura lock.  However, as the bones and muscles tweaked beyond near to their breaking point, the American realized that she could only let this go so far.

Rolling her head forward, mashed her body against the mat. Her chubby cheeks pushed across the canvas of the ring, her soft flesh grinding and scraping across the mat as she tried desperately to pull herself across the ring. The pressure on her arm was overwhelming, the angle at which Beyonce had her bent was terrifying, but the haughty American pushed through. With the referee in her face, asking her if she could continue, with Beyonce punishing her body beyond belief, the "student of the game" kept creeping forward. She was making her way toward the rope, barely even visible to her, through the sweat and tears running down Helvetica's face.