Bashira Matsumoto vs. Halloween Sonohara - The Immovable Object

[BlackAkuma]

Match Type: Standard
Victory Conditions: Pinfall, Submission, and KO

***

Halloween Sonohara was not having what you would call a ‘good day’.

It had started up normal enough, or at least as close to normal as you ever got when you were a pint-sized horror-themed pro-wrestler. She’d woken up, had breakfast with Lovers, got in their training routine, then hopped on Twitch to stream some of the new Silent Hill game and make a few easy bucks. Her plan was to do that until evening, then order out, watch a movie, and call it a night, but LAW’s management team had a better idea for her.

They needed a quick fill-in for a match. Nothing special they promised. Come in, have it out with some new girl, call it a day. It was a headache, and she already had enough headaches in her life thanks to a certain Ms. Pendragon, but whatever. Easy money. Right? She'd strap into her

, make a paycheck, call it a night.

That was what Halloween had thought, verbatim, right up until the moment she got a good look at her opponent: Bashira Matsumoto.

Bashira Matsumoto was, to put it in the most politically correct way, a big woman. While Halloween was smaller than 99% of the roster, this woman was in a special 1% who were nearly big enough to affect her with a gravitational pull. She was, maybe, three times the Scream Queen’s weight, wrapped up in those bulky folds.

In no other sport but wrestling would Halloween be allowed to face a woman like this in the ring, but this was wrestling, and size mismatches happened all the time. She wasn’t about to let it break her stride. She was fully resolved to handle it the way she usually did. She even threw out a good-natured Blob joke, not wanting to pass up the chance to make a classic movie reference.

Senora Matsumoto was not amused, and she proceeded to let Halloween know about her lack of amusement by slamming Halloween from pillar to post for about ten minutes.

At least, Halloween assumed it was ten minutes. It was hard to tell, because she was fairly certain she’d been knocked unconscious a couple of times. When she was fully awake and aware, she spent her time being ragdolled and trying to attack, which was about as effective as a Nerf bat against a brick wall. Everything she threw at this woman backfired; every move was swatted. It didn’t matter what she did.

Bashira just…kept..coming.

That led to Halloween in the present moment, where she was crawling across the canvas, drenched in sweat, with one pigtail undone and makeup dribbling down her face. Not exactly the best look. She didn’t have a plan beyond just getting to the ropes. Plans were for people who could feel their spine.

”Don’t…” She managed a weak chuckle as she looked over her shoulder. ”Don’t suppose you’d be up for a draw?”

[killcarrion]

Considering that ringside announcers have seen more wrestling matches throughout their storied careers than even the most diehard of online journalists, it tends to say a lot whenever the terms "absolute mauling" and "savage thrashing" were bandied about alongside pleas for the referee to end the match out of concern for one of the competitors. And here Bashira figured tonight was going to be an outright bust once she caught wind of LAW personnel apparently struggling to find wrestlers willing to accept a match with her. Specifically once they learned they would be pitted against a three-hundred-pound behemoth with a sordid wrestling history involving a preposterously long list of opponents she'd send to the infirmary. Bashira figured this twin-tailed pipsqueak neglected to read the fine print when she was offered tonight's match. Well, let this be a lesson to the shortstack. Provided she's capable of remembering anything about this match whenever she wakes up again.

"Draw? Hmm, that's an interesting proposition. Tell you what? Here's my counteroffer..." The circular shadow eclipsing Halloween encroached closer with each hefty step taken, blotting out the luminous ringlights above as the colossal predator encroached ever closer. Whatever offense attempt perpetrated by H.W. having been shirked or quite literally bounced off Bashira with nary a scratch visible on the rotund powerhouse cracking her knuckles on her approach. The dullness in her hazel iris belying a feral savageness unleashed the second Halloween was within arm's reach as her gloved extended forward and snatched a handful of Halloween's hair. A tucked yank slotting the seasonal pipsueak between the chubby entombment of her thighs before seamlessly hoisted onto Bashira's shoulders into the cataclysmic devastation of her Grizzly Meteor finisher. Whether cognizant of it or not, a firm boot would become planted on Halloween's face for a pin count that was as perfunctory as you could ever see.

"1!..2!!..."