KRUZHERS VS THE MOUNTEES STABLE WAR

Part 1:

Posted by Simguy on 12/23/2006, 2:10 pm.

Before: “I remember when ‘Lishy was a baby Krusher,” Pressly smiles in prefight. “I’d spar her to tears, then spend the rest of the day shoring up her battered confidence—she’s pathetic. Honestly, we spent so much time and money trying to convince BLONDE! Magazine that Elisha was a fresh face, a real fighter—what a joke. The truth is, we couldn’t wait to get rid of her: the Krushers don’t carry punks.” Cuthbert pursing her lips—no tears, no tantrums—she sits quietly through the assault and speaks calmly when it’s her turn. “Jaime doesn’t know me anymore,” Elisha tells the press, “and from the sounds of it, she never did. I’ve fought wars with Neve that would have put Jaime Pressly in the hospital. I’ve changed, I’ve grown, and I SO wan this fight. Jaime Pressly is yesterday’s news at bantamweight—she’s had her time in the sun. What she’s got coming is beatings: hard, thick and good.” Jaime in cotton two piece underwear, black; slick low ponytail; small black workout gloves. ‘Lishy in cotton two piece underwear—Canadian maple leap motif top, solid red bottoms; small red workout gloves, messy ouncher’s ponytail.

During R1: ‘Lishy beefy at the open, tackling Jaime to ropes, mauling her body to body—Pressly forced to flurry recklessly, brawling for breathing room. Jaime able to spin free, open up the canvas—but Cuthbert’s pursuit relentless—stomping, slugging pressure applied as Elisha hounds Jaime to all four ropes, fighting her way through Pressly’s pre-emptive flurries. High-output, wide ranging action—Elisha seen as the aggressor as Jaime’s continually backpedalling into ropes in the first.

R2: Both girls settle down—more set-piece engagements as ‘Lishy tries to bob-and-weave her way in close; Jaime works behind her jab, sidesteps as necessary to relieve pressure against her front. Pressly loose, relaxed—right hand under her chin, left at her hip—she’s very snappy issuing jabs, hooks and crosses. Jaime able to spread ‘Lishy out a little, fighting at range—Cuthbert’s crowd-pleasing jugs come under increasing attack as Jaime pulls a come-along hook across’em as she’s stepping right. Elisha moving her head well, coming forward, but not cutting off the ring—Jaime’s ring generalship, crisp punches take points.

R4: Elisha’s punishing ground game really effective—she’s taking Jaime’a agility, cruelty and finesse out of the equation: all about heart and determination as Cuthbert bodies Pressly to ropes. Blonde tousles in there close, rubbing and scrubbing; arms writhing, pushing; feet stamping for balance. Jaime grimly clawing short, murderous combinations inside, tearing up Elisha’s tummy and ringing up jug in furious bursts. Undaunted, Cuthbert continues to press in—holding and hitting Jaime, smothering the receipts. Breathy gasps all around—partially from the odd punch that lanss, partially from the constant strain of managing the opponent’s weight—these two may as well be fighting in a sleeping bag. Try as she might, Pressly just can’t wrestle Elisha’s back to the ropes—Cuthbert managing to holds position, putting beefy miles on Jaime’s slender chassis in the fourth.

R5: Lead right hand potshots from Jaime charge things—Pressly anticipating the rush, darting in and down with a scoring right to face, then pivoting away—she reintroduces athleticism to the fray as Cuthbert can’t catch up. Jaime circling lithe, glaring as she glides around, then slashes in—Cuthbert a touch slow in reaction, catching flush lead rights on the face before her guard is set. Midway through, hard right hand buckles Elisha’s sturdy knees—Jaime steps right, licks a vicious hook off her right foot to add to Cuthbert’s woes. ‘Lishy swaying, hurt for the first time, but taking it well—curvy legs holding her up, discouraging Jaime from going all in as Pressly circles, continues to potshot-and-get-out to the bell.

Pressly/Cuthbert conc.

Posted by Simguy on n12.23/2006. 2:11 pm.

R6: Another shutout, Jaime Pressly: Krusher taking the initiative away from Mountee at this point. Cuthbert mouth open, dukes at her temples, tentatively stepping after Jaime—those piercing lead right hands have Elisha wary, hanging back, Pressly with room to operate, pretties Elisha up: stooping jabs reach into Cuthbert’s creamy midsection (PAK!); lead right hands now blocked up top, but the follow-on hooks are clouting loud to jaw/ear. Every so often, Pressly with creep-step right, turn Elisha, then shoot a straight right/left/right hand against the cotton bra, bouncing those Canuck jugs something fierce. JP loping, steppin’ easy outside—she’s got Elisha breathing hard, fighting the wrong fights through 6.

R7: Elisha refusing to be discouraged—she rallies herself, recommits to crowding Pressly—but the decision proves expensive. Pressly—eyes narrowed—anticipates the blitz, retreating before it in good order, sticking Cuthbert with straight rights, jabs and clawing left hooks, drawing Elisha to the ropes. Jaime clinching as soon as Cuthbert barrels in—ref’s breaks separating the two, preventing Elisha from enjoying quality time on the apron. Cuthbert’s pressure counts from some, an she’s scoring the odd clobbering roundhouse out wide—but Pressly’s calm, in command in the seventh.

R8: Head in close midring—Pressly flurrying to breadbasket, steps out with hands low: snarling Elisha steps-with, torques a clouting hook across Pressly’s mouth—JAIME STUNNED! Pressly ragdolling to ropes, eyes glazed—Cuthbert barrels in all head and shoulders, butting Jaime terribly under he left eye. Moment’s worth of shoving and bumping, then Cuthbert comes up punching—short, shoulder-shrugging lefts and rights, bumping the Pressly breadbasket and jug. Poor Jaime! Pressly shipping shove and slug, trying to tie up—but she’s taking bombast amidships and hard clout on her chin as Elisha fires it up. DOWN GOES JAIME! Bludgeoning assault simply hammers Pressly to all fours—ref pushing enraged Cuthbert back—shabby 8 issued to a suddenly forlorn Jaime P. ON COMES ‘LISHY!

Jaime shopworn, covers up butt-in ropes, lips parted groggy. Elisha closes, stubs out a brace of tapping half-jabs against Jaime’s guard, then Cuthbert’s in with a stamping series of straight rights and lefts; palms down, smashing against the guard, chest, skull of her foe. ‘Lishy’s weight forward, head up, teeth bared—she’s at close range, but not smothered herself now—she’s able to hammer out these punches in non-stop pulses. Blows partially blocked, but concussive—Pressly visibly wilting as Cuthbert imposes will in brutal fashion. Bell: ‘Lishy straightening, chest heaving from her labours—Pressly blinking rapidly, turning her face away—‘Lishy leaning in, trying to get in Jaime’s face while hollering. “Are you crying? OHMYGOD you’re crying! You are—you’re crying!” Pressly enraged, shoves a laughing back with s snarl: tears of rage an pain definitely shine in proud Krusher’s eyes.

R9: Pressly badly worn down by beef: springiest legs in the division now sluggish, flat footed as Jaime is born to ropes and forced to slug. Jaime a willing warrior, tilting forward cheek-to-cheek with ‘Lishy shrugging and chugging underneath. Tummies, tits and ribs roasted—Pressly fighting in furious spots—but the weight of shot goes to Cuthbert as she lands bashing blows up and down her girls’ slender flanks. When Cuthbert puts a shoulder into Jaime’s chest, stamps her feet to drive forward—Pressly can’t stand: time and again she’s pressed hard to ropes. Jaime’s face wan and pale under the constant surge of ‘Lishy. Elisha able to lean on Jaime while simultaneously plugging right hands into that flat belly or shiny ribs—more Cuthbert points as Jaime takes another blanket-beating in the 9^th, Mountee cornermen beaming, standing and applauding their girl on the apron:  ‘Lishy bursts into appreciative laughter at the support from her guys.

R10: Jaime rising from her stool drained, lumped up, hollow-eyed—she grimly pushes into Elisha midring, only to be walked steadily back to ropes—Cuthbert hoisting thick right hands into Jaime’s breadbasket with every forward step. Crude, bashing stuff-Cuthbert glistening with sweat, mouth breathing herself, but buoyed by Pressly’s resigned, cranky expression. Jaime covering up through long stretches of cudgeling Cuthbert punches bouncing off guard, head and shoulders—Pressly snatching back with limber-limbed hooks to tummy and merciless jug scrub—but Elisha won’t be denied, Cuthbert’s legs set strong, constantly pushing Jaime and jostling her, then keeping enough separation to pour in those flat-trajectory stamping punches. Jaime badly shaken to the bell as Cuthbert breaks out the baseball bat to close strong. Come back UD10—Elisha Cuthbert!

After: Pressly looking then in and pale, staring at the canvas as decision I announced—sleek, lethal blonde taken to ropes and summarily bludgeoned by hamfisted vigour tonight as Elisha simply wills it to be. :I TOLD you I’d pound her,” ‘Lishy bleats in postfight, anxious handlers in the background looking ready to muzzle her at any moment. “I’m too strong now—I fought WARS in 2006—hard, banging wars that have made me twice the fighter I was when I was with the Krushers. Did you see how I took her to the ropes and held her down? I was just ON her, you know? She couldn’t een breathe in that ring tonight—I wouldn’t let her!” Mountees jump out 1-0 head to head—next up: Smulders/Theron.

Reposted by Archer 5/24/10.