Tina Armstrong vs. Sista A - Destroy All Cowgirls

Fucking free. God damn, that was getting annoying.

Sista A stumbled out of the bearhug, but quickly regained her footing, taking only the scantest of seconds to nurse her aching ribs. A breather would’ve been nice, but she didn’t have the luxury. Texan bitches recovered fast, she knew this well, and this one in particular had earned some payback. But what to use?

A boot to the head would do.

Quick as a whip, Sista A leaped up, swung her leg around, turned her body about and sent her foot flying in a wide arc to the side of Tina’s head, coming her way with a vicious enziguiri. Guaranteed to ring her bell.

When in doubt, kick 'em in the head. Old advice that Sista A was adhering too as the ebony dancer managed a surprising feat of athleticism in the high-heeled footwear, twisting and jumping with perfect position to nail the returning Texan in the side of the head with enough force to send the blonde for a loop.

Without even a pause to let out some sound of discomfort, Tina was back down on the canvas, lying face first as she tried to get her vision to clear instead of keeping kaleidoscope-esque visions all around, not to mention the dull thumping in the background she felt in her head. It was really only the faint noise of the crowd and the off-white mat that gave her any indication that she hadn't just been knocked out.

People always thought that Sista A wouldn’t be able to properly kick while wearing high-heels, and she loved proving them wrong time and time again. She could get some amazing force behind her blows, fists or feets. Just ask Tina Armstrong. When she was coherent enough to talk, at least.

Sista A fell to her butt and spun around, just in time to see Tina fall flat and take a momentary vacation to La La Land. She started to sit up and rise, but the pain in her ribs slowed her down, made her grunt from the pain of aching bones. Not a bad thing, though. It pissed her off, and gave her some good rage to vent.

But how? But how…

She had some ideas, but while she contemplated them, she needed to keep the punishment coming on Tina. Wanting to wear the brute down a bit, Sista A stood up and moved to stand over her opponent. She reached down, grabbed her by the wrists, then planted her high-heel between Tina’s shoulder blade. From there, it was just a simple matter of pulling the cowgirl’s arms up while her leg pushed down, stretching her out with an old-school favorite that Sista A didn’t see nearly enough in the AFW: a modified Surfboard Stretch.

Being stretched out with her arms tugged behind her was bad enough for Tina, but where Sista A's footwear might have restricted some of her movement in theory, it just made the normal pressure in the back from the Surfboard into making it feel like a knife lodged in the blonde's spine. "Ngghh..!" she grunted, teeth clenched in pain as the Harlem Nightmare tried to give her some serious back problems.

Oh, the sound of that Texan grunt coming from Tina’s lips. Sista A had almost forgotten how good it felt to hear those guttural grunts from

”What was that? Can’t hear you,bitch.” Sista A pressed even harder, really grinding her heel down. ”You want to taste the mat? Weird request, but if you’re into it…”

Sista A pulled up, lifting Tina’s body off the mat, getting her as high as she could...then releasing her and driving her into the canvas with a vicious stomp.

Tina growled in pain as Sista A yanked back, pulling the blonde up off the mat and further onto the spike-like heel of the harlem nightmare. "What I want is for you to-" the Texan managed to snap back up at her tormentor before she was driven back down into the canvas, face and boobs first.

And back came the ringing in Tina's ears again. It had somewhat faded away in the surfboard hold, the pain in her back taking priority, but now it was back in full force as the buxom blonde weakly rolled over onto her back, cradling her head all the while.

The feel of her heel digging into Tina’s flesh, the safisfaction that came from drilling the bitch into the canvas like a goddamn railroad spike, the sound of thousands of fans booing her like they honestly believed she'd give two shits what they thought…

Beautiful thing.

”How you like me now?!” Sista A turned to the audience with her arms wide and got a fresh wave of hate in return, adding more fuel to her raging fire. Not the smartest move, but she was in control of things. She could bask. A little.

After a moment of that, she reached down and grabbed Tina’s hair, tugging hard on it to force the Texan back to her feet. ”Get up, get up.” She chuckled and gave Tina’s golden locks a good twist. “Still got tons of shit to try on you, bitch.”

Tina winced as Sista A took hold of her gorgeous golden locks, the Harlem Nightmare trying to either make the Texan get back up or develop a bald spot and with the way she'd been acting: probably both. The blonde however was still defiant, even with how much she ached as she staggered back to her feet, Tina still swung for the fences, looking to tag Sista A on the cheek with a big slap.

Sista A was all taunts and smiles as she yanked the cowgirl up, getting to set her up for something nasty. What, she wasn’t sure yet, but she was reasonably certain it would involve driving her head into the turnbuckle and knocking her the fuck out. Good times.

”Not how you saw this going?” Sista A sneered and hungrily licked her lips. ”You and those fake ass tits can’t keep-”

Nothing took the piss out of a moment quite like a well timed slap, and Tina’s landed right on the mark, hitting Sista A’s cheek with a resounding crash that left the audience wincing. The Harlem Nightmare let go of Tina’s hair and spun around full circle, her face aghast at the insulting strike.

”Fucking…” She hissed under her breath as she came back around and returned fire with a stinging slap of her own, going for the meatiest part of Tina’s cheek.

There was nothing like slapping the taste out of someone's mouth to get someone to pause what they were doing. It wasn't so much it hurt, more than it was an insult in physical form, a sign that the Texan was still doing all she could to metaphorically flip Sista A the bird.

The Harlem Nightmare gave as good as she got however, Tina's cheek turning a solid shade of crimson and the smack echoing around the arena to beyond the cheap seats and with enough force to get the second generation grappler to spin on the spot slightly. However, there were more places to slap someone than just in the face and Sista A had lined up just right for it. "Bitch!" Tina called out as her near arm swung out at her foe, looking to give the woman a big pain in the chest with a knife-edge chop right across her breasts.