Rules:All the rules of a regular standard match will apply; with the exception of disqualifications for being out of the ring, moreover, participants will only be disqualified if they are caught breaking the rules 3 times. The prohibitions that lead to a strike are: low blows, raking your opponent's eyes, biting, using objects, third party intervention, not releasing your opponent after a 5-count by the referee after declaring a rope-break.
Rules POW: The loser will belong to her opponent by 24 hrs.
Win by: Pinfall, knockout, verbal submission, tap-out.

Vin's theme
"VIN CASTER. THE COPPERHEAD." The number of times she's been called that are counted, and in her mind there would be no room to take it as a good omen, moreover that no matter how many hands reached out to her from the railings, Vin leaned into none of them - today, her mind was not focused on them, but on the was at the end of her advance: the ring. Because today had to be different.
And with each step of hers, that indifferent gesture in her face became more obvious - she flicked the tip of her tongue to below of her lips to get over her bad taste she was getting her bad run with these idols. She herself would be prey to say that these defeats had been luck, even if she herself didn't believe in it. Because Vin Caster couldn't be that bad after all, could she? Even if she hadn't had a match that showed how talented she herself believed she was. If she is. Maybe she isn't? Maybe she's just another wrestler in a huge federation that every day links up with more and more independent circuits as happened with Gart's pub-club, formerly Gart's Bar.
To refute those musings with a single sentence, with conviction tested at every turn by her performance in comparison to the blonde and the pinkette...it was becoming a feat under that skin not to kick something to silence that static. Maybe she was the one who wasn't seeing things as they are...
But no! She clicked her tongue to stop all those unfounded ramblings that were undermining her mind. It had to be better than this! She is a not roockie.
'It's just a fucking record.' She thought. 'It doesn't mean anything at the end of the day.' She demurred before running the remaining stretch of the ramp to leap into the ring to go under the ropes in a slide and get to her corner to plant one of her boots on one of the turnbuckles and use it as a stepping stone to reach the next one. And from that rampant position, screaming like a raging animal from the top of her corner for all to hear, mainly that feeling inside her head that wants to sink her in depressing frustration. Enlivening the audience with her howl and mixing her raging emotion with the cheering to form an overwhelming euphoric wave by all.
Today was going to be different, it didn't have to, it was going to be! Because she had to prove to everyone that she was above all those bushleague - even if Vin has to take it more seriously and give it her all like a professional wrestler should always do.
Vin's idol outfit

