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"UNBEATABLE"
From BLONDE! Magazine…
ON TOP AGAIN: BRITNEY GOES TO 12-0 IN MUD!
It’s been a wild rollercoaster-ride to say the least.
You know the story: the record sales; the early success; the Big Break Up; the fake marriage, the real marriage; the real divorce; the kids without seatbelts; the bald head; the rock bottom; the comeback. Britney’s been a hockey puck: slapped here and there; bounced off the glass; rattled round the boards – but through it all, there’s been the fighting – her refuge from the slings and arrows of capricious public life. In the ring, on the sand, on the carpet – where-ever, whenever – Britney Spears has been a fixture on the fighting landscape for a decade now. And after a decade of fighting all comers, anywhere, anytime, Britney Spears may finally have found a home in mud.
“It’s awesome,” Spears declared when we sat down with her following a triumphant twelfth straight victory in the muck, over an outgunned Kim Kardashian. “I feel like I’ve finally found my true calling as a fighter. I’m great at a lot of things – La Conquista, clinch fighting, boxing – but it seems like, you add mud...and Britney goes to another level. I’m more confident there than anywhere else – and, well – I’m unbeaten! What does that tell you?”
It tells us that Spears may well be on her way to legendary status if this keeps up. Most fighters – especially girls who hit it big young – tend to flame out well before their tenth annual campaign...but Britney, if anything, is only getting stronger.
“I couldn’t get her off me,” admits Cheryl Burke, the curviest of the Dancing With The Stars pros, beaten by Britney in her fifth mud bout. “I knew I was faster and stronger than Britney – I could’ve kicked her legs all night if we’d been standing up...but in the mud, I just couldn’t use my skills. It was like fighting quick-sand: I felt suffocated all night long by her.”
Other girls have expressed the same sentiments. Kelly Clarkson: “She was too strong: I felt like I had her tummy on my face the whole time!” Jessica Simpson: “I thought I’d be too quick and wriggly for her, but she glommed onto me and I couldn’t shake her.” Lauren Conrad: “I was bruised black and blue from her punches and knees. I didn’t even know we could do that stuff!” Christina Milian: “She was overwhelming. I got her in a few holds, had her down at times, but I couldn’t stay in control. After a while, she just wore me down.”
And on, and on.
Critics of the Spears ascendancy say that it has come at the expense of a host of music-and-reality stars, while avoiding the true hard-women of the entertainment industry. “There’s not one strong, legit, fighting actress on Britney’s mud-record,” complains notorious sour-puss Jennifer Love Hewitt. “I’ve had a call in to her people for 6 months and they’ve got me on hold. Britney doesn’t want stiff comp in the mud, ‘cause she knows she can’t handle it. Wake me up when she’s beaten Charisma Carpenter or Kaley Cuoco or Allison Mack in a mud-tub: then we’ll know she’s for real.”
Ah yes: the haters; the doubters. Britney’s no stranger to the whining bleats of the jealous and resentful. “Jennifer knows she’s on the list,” Spears shrugs when told of Hewitt’s claims. “I’ll get to her – I’ll get ‘em all done eventually. I’m 12-0 right now, and this time next year, I’ll be 24-0, and there will still be haters. But I’ll tell you this: any girl meets me in mud, she’s gonna get broke down. That’s a promise. I don’t see anybody even close to threatening me. Not now, not ever.”
24-0. We like the sound of that. And the way Britney’s going, that mark could well be a conservative estimate!
* * *
MUD: NOW
Neve groaned.
Britney had her all trussed up: Neve on her right side, Spears crouching in behind. The blonde’s right arm curled ‘round the brunette’s head; Britney’s left arm hooked in behind Neve’s left knee in a loose cradle configuration, bending Neve into a semi-fetal warp. Hunkering down atop Neve’s raised left flank, Spears put her weight on Campbell, but that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst of it, was Britney’s right leg – reaching out back behind her to bunch up that full right buttock, then thrusting forward to pound knee into kidney with a damp, sickening thud.
Over, and over again.
Whenever Britney felt like it.
Britney shimmied Neve forward in the mud after knee-bludgeoning her. The blonde grunted atop her captive, digging in with knees into muck; working the head-and-leg to shove Neve forward – inch by grimy inch – into Britney’s corner of the mud ring.
It was a large enclosure – bigger than the mud-tubs Neve had fought in before. The ring itself might have been 15, 16 feet on a side, bounded by a low, pleather-padded wall maybe two feet high. Neve wasn’t sure of the dimensions, but if you sat with your back to it, you could rest your arms atop the wall comfortably, and it would brace you in the shoulder-blades. Like sitting in a Jacuzzi, Neve had thought, when she had done her pre-fight inspection.
A knee thumped into unprotected kidney. Britney pushed and writhed Neve forward a smidge, resting atop the brunette to catch breath, while Neve took weight. Painted a uniform primer-grey by the mud, neither Neve’s leopard bikini, nor Britney’s blue-and-green number could be discerned. The fighters looked like a pair of supple, thick, marble statues given slippery life.
The crowd was loud, drunk, pro-Britney. Neve had estimated a good 8000 in paid attendance – of which she was entitled to a third, on top of the cable-buys...not that that mattered now. Spears had made Vegas her campaign headquarters, and every one of her mudfights had gone on at the Mandalay Bay, reportedly because she liked the pool. Neve recalled the special “fighting pool” at the ‘Bay as well, and suspected that may have played a part in venue selection. Britney was well known for taking out non-celebrity competition as it pleased her, and the Mandalay Bay would be more than happy to facilitate her appetites, for the cash she brought in.
I swore it wouldn’t go this way, Neve reflected bitterly. “Get a fast start,” Hewitt had told her, as if Neve didn’t know. “Don’t let her push you into her half of the ring. If you watch her fights, you’ll see it’s always the same thing: secure the girl first, then punish her.”
“I know how to watch tape, Jen,” Neve had said.
“Yeah – I know. Lucky b###h. Don’t blow this, Neve.”
Easier said than done, apparently.
Another knee thumped home, and Neve found herself where she promised herself she’d never be: in Britney’s home-quadrant, a few feet away from her corner.
Neve writhed, felt the strong limbs of Britney constrict and hold fast around the head and left leg; felt the weight of Britney’s thick tummy atop her ribs; heard Britney grunting as she shoved Neve through the mud.
“Almost home, baby,” Britney panted. “Get ready to hurt.”
Suddenly, Britney sat back on her haunches, in close at Neve’s rump. With Campbell still on her right side, Britney raised up on her knees – fists above her head – and brought a double hammer-hand down onto her foe’s left flank P-PAK! Then it was heavy axe-handles in the ribs PUM!.
Posted by simguy on 12/30/2010, 1:14 pm, in reply to "Mud Neve/Brit"
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Neve sobbed aloud, curled herself full-fetal, her left arm curled around her head in desperate protection. I deserve this, she thought bitterly. I let her take me down, put my back in the mud, control me. This is what happens when you give Britney control.
The beating continued for a good twenty seconds – Britney unloading on Neve – hammer-fists sounding out beefy on thigh, hip, ribs, shoulder. Panting, Britney ceased fire, then bellowed into the crowd from her haunches, receiving an echoing-bellow in return as Neve shuddered in shock. “Weren’t you supposed to be great, once?” Britney puffed as she rose onto her knees to straddle Neve. Blonde sat wetly atop Brunette hip, pushing on Neve’s left shoulder to force her back down flat. “Don’t look so great now. Look pretty ####in’ shabby, actually.”
Britney chested-down, keeping her weight close. Neve moaned – her feet sliding impotently on mud as she tried to bridge: no traction. Like an anaconda, Britney slid her left arm in around Neve’s head, while the right slithered in around the left shoulder – Britney’s left cheek helping to trap the arm in close to Neve’s throat. Campbell felt the arm-triangle greasing into place, knew that Britney’s left hand would be securing her right bicep; felt Britney’s tummy tighten in excitement as the lock clamped up snug.
“Night-night,” Britney panted close to Neve’s ear. Campbell’s face pinched in discomfort, staring up at the ceiling as the strength of Britney’s arms began to finish the fight.
* * *
BRITNEY: 2 MONTHS AGO
“Ohmigod check this out!” Britney said, aiming the remote at the gigantic flat screen and hitting slow-mo. All around her, the victory party – well, to be honest: the THIRD victory party - was cooking on full boil: music blared from the pool outside; voices shouted and laughed all throughout the house. Jamie lynn took in the sight with bored eyes: she’d seen the highlights about a million times already. A few other friends – well, to be honest, Britney didn’t know all of them by name – gathered behind the couch to watch.
On the TV screen, Britney climbed the short retaining wall in her corner – her body sheathed in glistening grey mud. In the foreground, lying tits up/eyes closed/lips parted, was a helpless Kim Kardashian.
“Say goodnight, b###h,” Britney whispered as she hit ‘regular speed’ and watched herself launch up and out, then come splashing down across Kim’s chest and belly with a flat clapping noise of tummy on tummy violence. “BOO-YAH!” Britney shrieked to gales of meanspirited laughter in the TV room. “Scratch one brunette skank!” On the screen, Britney simply landed and stuck in place – no bounce - compressing Kim into mud and pushing a groggy wail of hurt from the exhausted brunette.
On the TV, Britney sat back on her haunches and hunkered down to wedge her arms in underneath Kardashian, bulling the splash-drunk brunette onto her belly. Watching herself, Britney smiled. This is why I’m the best, she thought.
“Hey kids – you want to give me and Brit a moment?” A brassy voice said. Spears frowned even as she watched herself standing up and wobbling awkwardly back to the wall for another climb-up. “You too, Jamie,” the voice said. Younger sister regarded older with a knowing look of disgust and resentment: Britney pursed her lips, and gestured with her head for the kid to beat it.
On the screen, mud-Britney had climbed the wall and was grinning it up for the crowd. In the foreground, Kim was on her tummy, right cheek on her left forearm, the anguished, exhausted face turned to the camera. In the background, Britney raised her right elbow and patted at it with her left hand, driving the crowd wild.
Madonna stepped around the couch; sat down; tossed a glossy copy of BLONDE! Magazine onto the glass-topped coffee table. “Hey.” She said.
“Hey,” Britney answered. “Look!”
On the screen, Britney had launched herself up and out, delivering a flying elbow-drop to the cushy mound of Kardashian’s upraised rump. The impact made a muddy “SPAK!” noise and the crowd went wild. Poor Kim just lie there deadweight, taking the insult to her trademark backside without complaint.
“Nice,” Madonna smiled, as on-screen Britney sat up with her brawny, smooth back to the camera on the far side of Kim, playing to the crowd. “That was a nice touch.”
“So,” Britney said. “What brings you around? You never come to these things.”
“Did you read that?” Madonna said, nodding at the magazine on the table.
“Sure.”
“BLONDE’s on board – they’re doing a good job of spinning things your way, but you’re starting to take heat for the lack of comp.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling you all along.”
“Well, good news then. It’s time for you to fight somebody.”
“Hewitt. Get me that b###h. Or somebody strong – I want to crush somebody everybody believes in – like a Righetti, or...”
“Neve Campbell.”
“What?”
“Neve Campbell.”
“She’s ####ing retired!”
“She’s not retired. She’s really big in Australia.”
“Jesus Christ, Madge.”
“Look,” Madonna said, and her voice had gone icy. “12 fights ago, you were still a washed up tabloid train wreck. Now you’ve got a number one album and single again; 12 wins in the bank, and the whole ####ing world at your feet. Jennifer Love Hewitt’s favourite venue is an outdoor, concrete basketball court enclosed in a chain link fence. Allison Mack dislocated a girl’s jaw with a headlock last week. Righetti just retired Cindy freaking Crawford. You do not need girls like that in your life just now. Not yet, Britney.”
“But...”
“Listen,” the voice softened. Britney hated the soft voice even more than the bossy one. The soft voice always got what it wanted – ever since that damn on-air kiss had anointed Britney as Madonna’s successor. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but being Madonna’s successor now seemed an awful lot like being Madonna’s puppet.
“Have I ever steered you wrong?” Madge continued. “Hewitt’s time is coming; so is Mack and Lilly and all the rest, but we’ll ease into them, okay? For right now – Neve’s the perfect way to go. She’s past it, she’s done, but people still remember what a badass she was. She’s smart, and she’s tough, and fighting-insiders will give you props for taking her apart. It’ll get the media off your back – show you’re for real. And it’ll get you ready for the next level.”
“I AM ready,” Britney said, hearing the little-kid petulance in her voice and hating it. But still.
“Okay: you’re ready. Prove it. Give me Neve Campbell. And I mean deliver her, you know? Showcase on this b###h, and I promise we’ll move against the big names this year.”
On the screen, the PPV broadcast was showing slow-mo replay of Britney jumping down atop Kim, splashing her into compost. It cheered Britney to see Kardashian giving way, unable at the end to even roll off her belly.
“Okay,” Britney said quietly.
“Okay,” the soft-voice said.
####ing b###h is going to pay, Britney thought of Neve. Spears watched as she flew through the air with her elbow up, heading into Kim’s conquered backside. She remembered what she’d been thinking at the time, and it made her smile.
She’d pictured it was Madonna lying face-down, her expensive rump getting ready for demolition.
The memory made Britney smile, and she hit rewind to relive it all over again.
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