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23 September 2006 Sarah Carter vs Kristin Kreuk

Page history last edited by Archer844 14 years, 5 months ago

 

 

 

Part 1

 

Posted by Simguy on 9/23/2006, 12:23 pm.

 

Before: “I’m surprised Sarah beat Kristen (Bell) to get to me,” Kreuk offers in prefight,. “I know people love to see me and Sarah fight, but for the life me don’t know why. Carter’s flimsy—Bell’s always struck me as the sturdier of the two, and let’s not forget: Sarah’s a cheap slut. She’s coming for what I’ve got, but I’m turning her away hungry: the Sarah Carter Era isn’t getting launched on MY watch.” Carter buttoned-down and business-like at the dais—refusing to indulge in trash talk with her gamine foe. “My plan was always: Bell first, then Kreuk,” elegant blonde announces stiffly, “I want my place at the table, I’m the star of a new TV series. I’ve got movies coming out in ’06 and ’07, and everyone knows that I acted Kristin right off the screen in all our scenes on “Smallville” together. Everything’s coming together for me—beating Kreuk and taking her spot is the culmination of all my hard work to date. There’s no way I’m letting her spoil it.” Kris in vibrant baby-blue bikini, white gloves, scruffy ponytail with wisps framing her face, Sarah in rainbow bikini (see “D.O.A.” reference), long ponytail with bangs framing face. Small gloves, both vixens.

 

During R1: So CUTE when gamines decide to plant and swing at each other like a couple of welterweights. Both beauties in wide slugging stances, weight on front (left) feet—bending knees and thrusting up into offending ribcages and tummies with robust rights and lefts (big armswings, plenty of hip-rotation into the shots). Hard work—this isn’t the usual flyweight approach of dousing the opponent in buckets of arm punches—these girls are setting down, exhaling through pursed lips, squinting through narrowed eyes as they concentrate on digging up into the torso-opposite—very methodical, deliberate pace. Wandering rotation neither vixen really using footwork here—just giving ground when necessary, then seeking to retake the canvas the nearest way. All even till late—Kreuk separates herself with a succulent , rising right hand tidy to blonde ‘plexus. Sarah’s face cringes in sudden pain, slender legs shuddering as she folds up hurt. Kreuk mopping up at the bell—thick strapping right hand in behind the left elbow—clouting left on Sarah’s ear as blonde tilts forward behind her mitts.

 

R2: Sarah shakes off Krissy-Klout, comes out determined to be the big girl this round. Lead left leg firmly planting, clenched teeth bared as blonde lashes her arms in right/left strokings to taut brunette tummy muscles. This is firm, firm stuff—small gloves bouncing off toned flesh and cramping Kreuk up—she just can’t get off as Sarah imposes her will. Impressive: Carter backing Kristin up, walking her down, body-beating her with shivering, relentless work. Down the stretch, Kreuk hard-pressed to stay standing as tanned legs shimmy, knees buckle: Krissy’s got tears standing in doe eyes as she issues the fight’s first clinches to deny Sarah early knockdowns.

 

R3: Krissy’s turn: Sarah given a dose of her own trudging medicine this round. Kreuk snarling, cheeks flushed with effort—she’s just planting, dipping knees and shoulders to load up every ounce of lithe leverage she can muster, then depositing shock to Carter’s slender ribcage and flat abdominal pan. Kreuk’s arms shivering as little mitts digs and twist against pale blonde flesh—Krissy’s eyes narrowed, exhaling through pursed lips as she gets into Sarah and backs her up. Poor carter! Sarah blinking back tears, backpedalling while keeping elbows in—Kristin’s beating her like a drum!

 

R4: Krissy wins first back-to-back rounds in a tight contest—girls stepping-to, planting strong, and shellacking each other with lusty, lashing body shots—both hands. Carter grimly digging in and contested every inch of canvas—but Kreuk’s proving the harder vixen—banging iout the exchanges and inching forward as wincing Carter gives ground. When one girl disengages completely—the other goes automatically to the jab, staying in contact, closing the gap, and continuing the torment. Output rising slightly as both girls start to swish the odd shoe-shining combination to opponent’s head and shoulders to set up thicker shot downstairs—crowdpleasing mix of flurries and sparkling powershots shaking both sport-chassised vixens.

 

R5: Kreuk breathing the pattern—she’s on her bicycle early, circling in either direction, starting to use the ring. Carter takes it as a sign of weakness, boldly walking Krissy down, being the aggressor: through 2 minutes, blonde stalks brunette with increasing confidence. Final; minute, girls trade brisk right hands, come-back hooks and CARTER TWISXT^S TO NTHE MAT! Sarah awestruck, shabby on all fours: Kreuk just CRANKING that hook around as she eased onto rear (right) foot—fist snapping off Sarah’s chin then following through to Krissy’s brown waist all whip-supple. Sunny smile, Kreuk—hands high as she struts, tracked by flashbulbs all around the ring as poor, shipwrecked Sarah narrowly beats the count. Creaky 8, Sarah—carter swooning, reeling on the apron, groggily covering up her face and digging in as Kreuk strides on in to clean up. LARTHERING beatdown—Krissy TEARING at Sarah without restraint—lefts and rights batting furiously at flanks, shoulders and skull as lithe brunette twists and writhes in her hips to generate torque. SARAH GOES DOWN! Happens in stages—slender blonde sinking, sinking, then dropping to all fours with a pain-stricken face. Kreuk jubilant—hopping happily directly in front of Sarah, hands in the air—then standing so close that Carter had to turn her head to side, sit back on her haunches and raise her hands to push Krissy’s thighs away. Ref gives Kreuk a lecture on taunting: she’s just grinning malevolently down at Sarah, pushing errant strands of dark brown hair out of her eyes as Carter staggers up at the bell.

 

Carter/Kreuk conc.

 

Posted by Simguy on 9/23/2006, 12:24 pm.

 

R6: Gutcheck, Sarah: Carter passes the test. Kreuk turning all brawny, looking to bash Sarah into submission: Carter’s turn to show “boxer”. Sidestepping, pivoting and circling to keep Krissy out on the end of blonde jab. Good stiff stick—Carter touching up Krissy’s perfect face with poke, bouncing nimble away from Kreuk’s receipts. Sarah also vexing Kreuk with the body jab—stooping and patting away at form brown tummy as fuming Krissy marches forward behind a high guard. Bell: Kreuk not impressed, taunting Sarah to “stand and fight”—Carter gets her legs and wits back in a regrouping sixth.

 

R7: Sarah finally gets back-to-back rounds—working behind her jab, turning Kristin’s left flank and walking Kreuk into brisk shoeshining combinations. Carter being first—as Kris gets close, blonde polishes away brisk side-to-side lefts and rights—small gloves skidding and bouncing off raised brunette gloves, shiny brunette shoulders, damp brunette scalp. Then Carter’s gone—scooting  ‘round the side or dancing out of range: Kristin frowning in frustration as she can’t find the mark. Flashing eye contact being made—Sarah’s gaze unflinching, insolent, goading; Kreuk glaring,  resentful of the silent, haughty air of blonde supremacy in Carter’s cool expression.

 

R8: Those combinations aren’t just shoeshining any more: Kreuk’s getting banged up as she wanders into the teeth of Sarah’s buzzsaw punching. Brunette covering up as she wades in, trying to get slugging position: Carter lathering, then cashing in thick waist with swinging lefts or rights, carter nimble, sidestepping—she’s hooking Kris from outside brunette left shoulder, startling underneath, or takes chin via a shorter, clipping right uppie—getting good leverage off her right foot. And jugs: Sarah’s going deliberately to Kristin’s cuddly puppies—smudging and buffeting’em with rapid side-to-side chamois action—drawing breathy whimpers of complaint. And 2 minutes in, it happens: Thick, withering left uppercut underneath (Sarah’s weight on left foot to get it) digs firmly into Kristin’s solar plexus, freezing Kreuk up momentarily, then DROPPING HER TO ALL FOURS! Carter chest heaving, eyes flashing—she stalks away hands-on-hips to neutral corner, catching her breath. Kristin up and ragged at 8, tears standing in Siamese- Cat eyes, she hugs at her ribcage while leaning back against ropes, trying to gather herself before Sarah’s finishing run. Final moments a one-sided lather, Carter to Kreuk: Krissy just covering up, sitting in the ropes and soaking as Sarah’s finishing run.

Final moments a one-sided lather, Carter to Kreuk: Krissy just covering up, sitting on the ropes and soaking as Sarah wails away slender-armed to the bell. Carter chesting up, snarling “You’re mine” close enough to kiss the words into Kreuk’s mouth—Krissy pushing blonde torso back as ref jumps in to enforce the break.

 

R9: Kreuk hardhearted—chipping her way in with the jab, dipping, then hooking Sarah brutally, blatantly between the legs. Bleat of pain, Carter, knees trembling, but she answers right back with  a nifty right/left on bright blue trunks, bunching Kreuk up with a cry. Krissy crippled, stooping forward—she palms Sarah’s elbows back, then lifts a moist, thrusting right hand into Carter’s tenderest portions, yanking fresh sobs from agonized blonde. Sarah stooped forward, backing butt-first to ropes—she reaches for Krissy’s inner elbows, pushing for room underneath, then gouging Kreuk a thick right uppercut to stomach, then a thicker, cheaper right hand to crotch, Both vixens blubbering in mutual anguish—pushing and palming each other, then sloshing hot wallop to hips, thighs and trunks—ref finally moves in, takes both girls by the elbow, spreads’em out and read’em the riot act. Girls blinking back tears, wading back in, knuckling and kneading at each other to prep fresh body-shellack toe-to-toe. Tasty slender-armed licks—girls tired and hurt, but mustering tangy clout to offending ribcages and midsections—this thing’s devolving into groggy mouth-on-shoulder. More warnings for incidental head butts and tousle-scrubs; elbows; shoulder-bumps as girls compete for breathing room at close quarters, Bell: Kreuk’s back to ropes, Sarah working hard with rolling lefts and rights to quivering Krissy-guts—judges figure Sarah must have won a close round if that’s the way it finishes up.

 

R10: Sarah gets on top with a brisk shoeshine against Krissy’s tasty rack: brunette just sick about it as she’s backed to the ropes and cruelly beaten. Kreuk answering with a similar side-to-side drubbing—keeping elbows in as she buffets and scrubs Sarah about her head and shoulders, neatly sidestepping to put Carter face first in the ropes. They battle mouth-on-shoulder, then lean back in hopes of landing uppercuts to chin, then quick-jab to locate each other for another go-round. Back and forth—very littke to choose between limber vixens late—tireless gamines just frothing and licking at each other at a stepping gait around the ring. Bell: Sarah’s finishing up tasty on Kreuk’s rack—blonde flashing that demure little smirk of hers as she humbles Krissy’s hooters to punctuate a hard fought dime. Long delay as cards are tallied—comes back on point duke…Sarah Carter!

 

After: Carter exultant—ice-queen veneer finally cracking as she wanders around, hands on her head, blinking back happy tears: she’s fought her way onto the flyweight stage tonight. Kristin distraught: Carter one girl that Team-Kreuk absolutely, positively wanted to turn back—Sarah’s breakout coming at Krissy’s expense as blonde leap-frogs brunette inside AND out of the ring. “I’m rolling Krissy up on all fronts,” Carter beams happily in postfight, pulling strands of hair away from her mouth. “I’ve beaten her decisively in boxing now but I also want to dominate her on carpet and sand. I want to submit her. I want to knock her out. There’s talk of putting us together in a go-go dancer’s cage (small enclosure suspended above a dance floor—very popular on the East Coast nightclub circuit) and I’d love a legs-only bout—but that’s all in the future. For now, I’m just gonna savour this, then start carving out my territory in the Top 10. James Woods told me I’m the best little fighter he’s ever seen, and you know what? I think he’s right!”

 

Reposted by Archer 10/6/09.

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