Tina Armstrong vs. Sista A - Destroy All Cowgirls

There were benefits to Sista A’s sultry outfit, not the least of which was the fact that she looked hot as hell in it. She had the good, didn’t see any harm in putting them on display. This was the AFW, after all. Plus, she enjoyed the freedom of movement, and the heels made good little weapons in the ring circumstances. Tina would back that up.

But, she had to admit, it did turn her chest into a bit of a bullseye. One that Tina had no problem hitting on target.

The slap had been loud, but the chop was even louder, cracking on the skin like a whip. Sista A shrieked and stepped back, clutching her chest while she stared at Tina with a mixture of disbelief and growing rage.

”Cunt!”

Not one to be outdone, especially by someone like this, Sista A moved back towards her foe and lashed out with a knife edge chop of her own, bringing it down across both of Tina’s bouncy tits.

"Didn't think that would hurt a couple of water balloons under th-" was all Tina managed to get out before Sista A returned fire with a big chop to her own breasts, another smack echoing around the arena, another red hand print on the blonde bombshell.

"Shit..." she hissed, clutching her chest in pain, trading strikes like this had got her in a somewhat even position back from the bad time she was in, but the two just clapping and chopping each other in the chest wasn't going to get her very far beyond stinging so instead Tina took a page out of the Harlem Nightmare's book and simply booted her opponent in her exposed midriff

When it came to strikes, Sista A was unparalleled, and that included knife-edge chops. A fact that Tina was starting to appreciate, she was sure.

Bitch needed to shut up, though.

”Water balloons?!” Sista A squawked and stepped forward as Tina reeled from her blow. ”You bring your Brand X tits out here and you wanna call mine-”

It was Sista A’s turn to be interrupted now, as Tina’s foot found a new home in the middle of her stomach, hitting with the force of a bucking bronco. The Harlem Nightmare croaked and bent over, cradling her breadbasket while she stumbled back.

Finally Tina thought to herself as she booted the wind out of the Harlem Nightmare's sails, but she couldn't just let her foe stagger away in silence. Even if she wasn't going to win a striking war, all she needed was to get a big enough room to maneuver and close in so she could go back to grappling with the bane of all cowgirls.

Reaching forward and not giving a single damn if she yanked out some of Sista A's hair in the process, the blonde Texan went to shove the dancer's head under her own arm while her free hand grasped at her waist. From there it was a matter of lifting her up while she threw herself back. Keeping her feet on the floor as she gave Sista A a big suplex for her insults.

All of the sudden, this whole thing had gone decidedly tits up.

Sista A had just started to recover when her hair - and her extensions - were unceremoniously yanked, and she found herself in one of the last places she wanted to be: under Tina’s arm. She’d fought enough Texan bitches to know that wasn’t a good soit. She just hoped Tina wouldn’t suplex her. A DDT, maybe?

Nope, she got the suplex.

Her back hit the canvas was a ring-shaking splat and the response was immediate. ”Ah, fuck!” She spat, as the pain went all the way down her spine. Aching, she tried to roll over to her front and nurse her aching back, hissing under her breath while she thought of imaginative ways to get payback. ”Fucking hate you, fucking Texas bullshit, fuck…”

Tina chuckled as she lay down on the ground as Sista A rolled away cursing her out. "Aww... someone not like the lone star ass-whooping?" the blonde taunted as she rolled back onto her knees in front of the Harlem Nightmare, reaching down to lock her foe's head underneath her armpit once again, this time trying to squeeze down on the neck as she sprawled out.

There were probably a few ways for Sista A to respond to Tina’s little comment, with few of them being PG-13 and below. She’d just opened her mouth to spit out one of the lewder curses in her extensive library when Tina pounced on her and weighed her down.

With a grunt and a groan, Sista A started to push her way up. She couldn't escape the hold right now, but she could at least get to a vertical base, where she had more options.

Now this was more like it. Tina had fought enough strikers in the past to know the best way of ruining their gameplan/day/mood/whatever was to get them on the ground and start slithering all over them like a snake so they couldn't move without either getting their neck squeezed like a tube of toothpaste or a limb going in a way a limb is not supposed to go.

To her credit, Sista A was not making it easy for the Texan to really start cranking down on the neck, maybe the hair extensions were getting in the way or something but instead of slowly going to sleep, the Harlem Nightmare was slowly getting back to her feet, which was bad news for the blonde. Best to change that then: re-adjusting her grip so it was a lot tighter, Tina took a small jump and wrapped her powerful legs around Sista A's midsection and squeezed down as hard as she could. Trying to send the dancer to dreamland with a guillotine choke.

Not like this. Not like fucking this.

There was no way that Sista A, the Rose of Roses, was going to get choked out like a bitch in the middle of the ring like this. Tina was good, better than she ever wanted to admit out loud, but she’d come too far to go out this easy. Her path ended with Dixie Clemets, and everything up to that was just a road bump. They could slow her down, but stop her? No. Not happening.

That thought was what drove her upwards and onwards, fighting to get vertical, struggling to rise. She could do it. She knew she could.

That was, until Tina changed it in into a guillotine and Sista A fell to her knees. That changed things.

”Grrggh!” A choked grunt came out the legs clamped down around her waist, biting down hard. Getting desperate, Sista A vainly tugged away at Tina’s brawny arm, fighting for every breath.

"Go to sleep, go to sleep bitch, go to sleep..." Tina repeated in a whisper as she squeezed down on Sista A's neck and waist, feeling the dancer tug at the tight hold as the blonde pulled the two fighters back down onto the canvas, the Harlem Nightmare's ass in the air as the blonde choked the fight out of her with a look of determination. "Tap or Nap, bitch," the Texan whispered "Choose now, or I do it for you."