Pt.1

Originally posted by Simguy on 11/3/2006, 7:21 am.

Before: First photo-shoot, girls in tight tank tops displaying those compact, brawny arms and shoulders—face to face posing proves intolerable for Fishel as she shoves Mack hard in the chest, initiating the first near-brawl in prefight. “It’s because I’m cuter and tougher,” Allison shrugs when asked to explain the animosity between two popular, friendly and cheerful fighters who by all rights should be friends outside the ring. “Think about it: you’re Dani Fishel, you’ve spent your whole career building this image s being cute and tuff, and along comes Allison Mack to totally upstage you. I don’t want to disrespect Dani’s fans or her management, or TE—I know a lot of quality people care about Dani—but Fishel and I have a serious problem. Honestly, I can’t stand her and yes: it’s personal.”

Fishel uncharacteristically mean-spirited in return—eyes hardening as the subject of Mack is brought up. “She’s had this beating coming for a long time,” Dani warns. “Everywhere I turn, there she is either pretending to be me, or undermining me or making as ass of herself at FCBA events. Maybe she forgot the last time we had—the fight I stopped her in about 3 rounds. She wishes she had a tenth of what I’ve got in thr ring—but you know what? Wishing doesn’t get it done. I’m pounding Allison Mack into rubble and hopefully THIS time, she’ll take it to heart!”

Dani in navy bandeau bikini, large baby blue polka dots and bra-strap support, white sneakers/socks; white gloves, Mack in sporty gymnastics work-out two-piece: lavender sport top with dark auvergine side-panels; auvergine boy-cut stretch shorts; white sneakers, no socks; white mitts. Stare down extraordinarily intense—both girls refuse to touch gloves.

During R1: Dani bobbing and weaving out of the crossed-arm: Mack bouncing a stiff jab off Dani’s hairline—Ali keeping her right nice n’tight to her temple. Scooting footwork—Mack pounding poke to head and shoulders, backing Dani up: Ali leans in close to club her right hand short, heavy to Dani’s skull. Takes a minute of sharp, crisp punching, but Ali backs Dani to ropes—knowledgeable Mack fans in audience whooping it up as Fishel’s butt presses against cable.

Body beating: Ali to Dani. Thick, thumping shots—Mack tightlipped as she rips’em home—off-hand always tight to her temple as the punching hand digs to paunch, ‘plexus or flank. Fishel grimacing, exhaling through pursed lips when she’s touched hard—bobbing, crossing her arms at times, other times showing earmuff as she tries to ride this out. Ali closes out second minute with tidy, short left uppercuts, carving in between Dani’s mitts, brushing her back.

JUGG! Crowd roaring as Ali HAMMERS at Dani’s breasts in the final minute slugging—purposefully, savagely, vindictively POUNDING short lefts and rights to rack. The SOUND of these blows—great, beefy claps as Ali works out of tight stance, protecting her head with one hand as she turns walloping blows into Dani’s goods. Punching migrates naturally to the topic of Dani’s biceps—Ali going directly at those rival pipes, wearing’em down for the long haul. Bell: Ali lands a crisp right/left, toggling Dani’s chin tic-toc—ref jumps in a hairsbreath slow as Mack leaves Fishel wobbly butt/staring off the late clout. Shutout Allison Mack: she’s seething back to her corner, pumped to do more damage.

R2: Dani answers, and answers, with vigour. Allison’s turn to take backward steps as those two trade DISASTEROUS haymakers midring, brutal, bashing stuff—girls fighting out of tight crouches, busting each other clubbing lefts and rights thrown crisp—both girls keeping  the off-hand t her temples when tossing. Dani bouncing her fists off Mack’s scalp and forehead, pounding a groggy look of concern onto blonde face: Mack’s back hits ropes and Fishel’s fans leap out of their chairs. MACK BANGS BACK! Touch of cable galvanizing proud blonde—she bends into tight, short shots, bashing Dani head-and-shoulders—BUT FISHEL WON’T GIVE GROUND! Dani slamming back with head shots, crumpling Mack into ropes, then BURYING mitts to stocky belly HUP! HUP! HUP! Allison groaning, leaning forward—she digs hooks into Dani’s waist—splash of pain on Fishel’s features as she soaks the shots, then hammers Mack back flat t ropes with a right to the jaw. DANI WANTS JUGG! Allison open-mouthed in shock as Fishel romps to rack—thudding rights and lefts delivered straight from the shoulders crosscross to Mack’s melons—Dani’s face a mask of rage as she stamps way for points. Bell: DANI CLOUTS ALI A RIGHT HAND! Clubbing cross to chin—Dani piling into Mack on follow through bodying up and letting her hear all about it—Allison stunned, helpless as ref pulls a squirming Fishel off.

R3: MNACK SLAMS BAVK! Torrie toe-to-toe as girls meet midring—both gritting their teeth, ducking and twisting into short shots, keeping the off-hand at temples to help block this incoming. Shattered stuff—Dani bludgeoned senseless by clean lefts and rights bouncing off her skull—she hits ropes visibly shaken as Ali bodies up all beefy, BEATDOWN! Mack muscling Dani—MUSCLING DANI—at the ropes—reaching under her arms, tummy up on her, making her feel the weight. Lusty rights and lefts dig to paunch—Allison baring her teeth as she ploughs’em home: Dani pitching forward with a groan, eyes frowned shut. UPPERCUTS! Allison arching her back, curling’em tight to brush Dani back—Allison’s arms all thick and powerful as punch approximates a bicep curl in execution. Final minute, Dani badly loosened—still groggily bobbing, rolling, blocking shots—but Ali’s really punishing her now. Big, smashing blasts to the biceps—Ali turning the punches over to land flat-knuckle on meat, beating Dani’s guard down. JUGG! Fishel blurting out a moist sob of disbelief as Allison somehow, someway takes even MORE jug—hup-hup-hupping left and right shrugging uppercuts into Dani’s sulking rack. Mack’s fans delirious as wobbly Fishel reaches to clinch—eyelashes fluttering, moist lips parted unhappily. Allison pumping strong to the bell, punching too violently to be wrapped up as poor Dan slouches against the ropes, staring dimly; Mack mops up melon to the bell. Ref quick at the break—pushing blonde away—Mack’s eyes glaring with feral light of hate as she leaves Dani SMOULDERING in hurt!

R4: DAMI ANSWERS! Crazy trade in tight overhand rights as girls lean nin close to curl’em in: Mack catching ion her jaw, goes instantly wobbly butt with a stricken expression. Grim body punching takes Mack’s breath away—lefts and rights swiped hard across her waist drive Ali to ropes. Mack winded, sagging—she stoops forward behind her mitts and SOBS as Fishel rips hooks up and in, UP AND IN! Dani twisting herself hard-right on her hips, dragging that left hand thick to Ali’s stout waist—FISHEL crying out as she lands these blockbusters against that hated midsection. Pushing from Fishel, jostling—Mack all drowsy, not punching back as she’s bullied and smudged—Dani working shove-and-slug with grim determination, systematically reducing her foes arms, chest, ribs, tummy, Mack sadly loosened, unable to fight her way off the ropes—Dani’s getting the odd chin check via clubbing rights or left hooks, swiveling blonde skull, keeping the pressure on, Allison back punches late: she should be clinching, soaks up extra harm instead as Dani paints it on thick. Bell: Dani stomping-to, chesting up on her grimacing foe as Mack Sags in ropes.

R5: Grim, wince-making slugging midring: slowly but surely, Dani’s forcing Mack back. Pace has slowed markedly, but not the intensity: both girls pitching as hard as they ever have to competition. Fishel pushing into Mack on follow through, reaching her left under Ali’s right, walking her back—Mack pushed to ropes, groaning as Dani’s forehead grinds across blonde face, pushing Ali’s head to the side while a short-pumping one-two slams home to breadbasket. Ali digs in—fight takes place on a little patch of canvas as girls lean in forehead to forehead to work at a steady pace. Muscular arms writhing in against each other—hands pushing hands down, getting the guard out of the way—then clubbing, clouting abuse administered. Both catching shellack, but Fishel more insistent, stronger, having the last word. Every once in a while, Dani will drop that right back, pop her hips-right and lay one of those fat, strapping hooks—shouting out as she scores to Mack’s throbbing midsection. Allison soaking up the hardest body shots of her career, grimly determinedly not to give Dani the satifaction of seeing her take a knee.

MACK/FISHEL conc.

Originally posted by Simguy on 11/3/2006, 7:22 am.

R6: Mack rediscovers the punch she opened with: crisp, pounding jab bounces off Dani’s hairline, marking her as she tries to crouch her way forward, Good stiff poke—a real jarring punch: Ali’s able to step to her left, turn Fishel, take the initiative away. Right hand chasers—short, chopping clouts delivered as Ali leans in close to get’em: Fishel soaking up some withering blasts on her face, then grunting in pain as Mack mops up a thick hook to the liver. Slopping, sloshing work, but Ali finally bludgeons Dani to ropes—girls set up in that bruising forehead-on forehead posture—each determined to batter the other into submission. Ali’s fists push down on Dani’s, then clap at her chin, or tuck into her body: Dani doing similar work, writhing her  arms against Ali’s for advantage inside. Mack with some scrumptious short right uppercut to Dani’s solar plexus inside—Dani crumpling forward in pain, slumping naturally into Ali’s wrap as Mack rides her left arm across Dani’s back. Rare brutality, even for the FCBA—ringsiders wincing, pursing lips in appreciation as stocky torsos ring out. Bell: Mack chests up on exhausted Dani; Allison pushing her nose/mouth inti left side of Dani’s face, turning Fishel’s head aside as ref jumps in.

R7: Dani took the 4^th and 5^th back to back; Mack takes the 6^th and now the 7^th. No secrets now, no stratagems—it’s one sturdy lass pushing her way into another, backing her up, and pounding her with simple, straightforward brutality. Forehead on forehead—Mack takes it to Dani—beating roundhouse blows against Fishel’s full biceps; pumping double right hands to the belly; ripping muscular uppercuts into overhanging jug whenever Dani wilts forward, Cudgeling work to Dani’s face as Ali first pushes Fishel’s hands down, then clouts her—steady clubbing abuse has Dani groggy, open mouthed, swelling up. Allison equally puffy, but she’s more alert this round: her eyes are open glaring; Dani’s generally closed as girls push, scrounge and slug. Bell: Mack seethes, breath hot and moist on Dani’s face as Fishel blinks back in stupor.

R8: DANI! Fishel plodding off her stool, batting mitts together and wading into Allison—Dani digging down to simply overwhelm Allison with sheer brute force. Mack smashed upside her head as Dani leans into overhand rights and swinging lefts—Ali driven to ropes all loose and punished, eyelashes fluttering as she takes a comfy seat. Thudding beatdown—Dani loading up and smashing at the girl’s biceps; pushing into Allison to prop her, then while leaning on her, packing right hands snug into tender underbelly. Allison groaning, gurgling—pitching forward, then getting bodied back: she’s out on her feet, too proud, too strong to bend to Dani’s will. Everytime it looks like Allison’s swooning—she jerks Dani an uppercut or bumps tummy a rolling burst of chugging lefts and rights. Fishel grunting, bunching up hurt at time, but keeping the pressure on—always, always the last to land in any given exchange.

During the break—both beauties queried by the ref—both groggily determined to continue. Dani all busted up, eyes swollen to slits. Mack’s right eye closed, lips swollen, hair plastered against her head. Trainers work desperately, massaged thighs, dousing water; pressing ice against throbbing brows.

R9: Mack. Dani’s face spanking back from jabs midring—Fishel just facing into’em, dukes up shoulder height. Mack punching straight rights and lefts, face grimly determined—she systematically hammers Dani to the ropes. Uppercuts—right off the right foot, lefts off the left foot—visibly drain Fishel as they clip chin, swiveling her battered head. Dani swoons into ropes, turning to her left: Allison sets her feet wife and REEPS right hands into undefended paunch—grunting Sharapova-like as she pitches’em

Into Dani. Gruesome stuff--Mack actually resting her left hand on Dani’s right hip to anchor her work, left foot almost skidding up off canvas—blonde just ploughing away as Fishel sobs into her mitts, but refuses to go down. Ali pushing Dani upright, clobbering her face side to side, beating her breasts and biceps, it’s all unopposed now—Dani just slumpin’ and soakin’ at the ropes. Bell: Allison’s crying, chest weaving from the emotion and exertion; Dani aswoon, unfocused—ref visits both corners once again as thing has gone way, way  beyond what fighters should be giving of themselves in the ring.

R10: Crippled beauties stagger to midring, sensing each other on instinct—soon as they’re close, they open up with those tight, clobbering haymakers, Dani lands a right upside Mack’s head., Ali curls a tight, right uppercut to Dani’s chin. They trade hooks to tender tummies, buckling respective knees. Punch for punch—it’s Dani, systematically breaking Allison  Mack down, driving her back to ropes.

Beatdown—Dani to Ali, Mack blubbering unconsciously, drooping, crying out as Dani laces thick right hand to tummy, pushes up, then torques that bashing hook loud against Mack’s flank. Allison wilting, willing herself on—she’s just covering up, bending at the waist, trying to slip the odd shot as Dani keeps sloshing away, Final minute, Mack torso—rotating out of a deep crouch HOOKS DANI’S MOUTH! Fishel spluttering, surprised by the shot—she tries a right hand off her back foot but OH ALLISON! Mack leans in a shattering shirt right cross, ploughing Dani’s face hard to starboard as Dani’s right pushes harmlessly past. Dani stumbles wonkily back, stepping in fence post holes—then flops spastically to all fours, looking astonished to be on her hands and knees. Mack groggily staring down, then screaming in triumph—Dani immediately starting to cry at the sound of Allison’s exultation—Fishel a tragic sight trying to force herself to her feet. Bell: Mack pushed back by the red as Dani’s reeling on the spot, dukes still up at her temples in a groggy parody of self-defense. Goes to the cards, comes back UD!) ALLISON MACK!

After: Fight of the Year candidate delivers on every expectation—both girls will spend the night at the local emergency ward as a precaution. Dani more than devastated at the announcement—somehow, watching her try hard NOT to cry more agonizing than seeing her let it all out. Fishel winning the tenth, OWNING the tenth only to watch it slip through her fingers in the final minute: it’s absolutely heart-rending. Mack sobbing tears of purest joy, sparing Dani nothing: if only Ali would reach of here—hug Dani and congratulate her warrior to warrior—but it’s not going to happen. “Dani better get used to what I did to her tonight,” a badly battered Allison Mack warns in postfight. “Tonight was the first night of the end of her career. I stepped into Dani Fishel, backed her up and used her up every last drop of that porky body of hers. She’s a shell right now—she’ll never get back what I took her in this fight.”

Reposted by Archer 7/22/09.