5 March 2005 Laetitia Casta vs Catherine Zeta Jones


Posted by simguy on 3/5/2005, 8:59 am


Before: Bitter rivals get re-acquainted: both women have specialized in tormenting the other in the past. "I'm glad to see Catherine again," Laetitia admits to Parisian journalists, "my fists have waited too long for the feel of her plush, yielding body and my ears long for the sound of her pathetic whimpers (translated from rather florid French)."

 

Secret Emails between Elizabeth Arden head office and CZJ's publicist are leaked to press, revealing a bonus to Jones for every knockdown and a healthy KO chin-bounty: Casta still a marked woman in the fashion world where grudges die hard. When confronted with the evidence, Jones shrugs unrepentant.

 

"Listen," purrs the brunette, "if I knock Laetitia out, I shall take my own bonus from her directly: depend upon it."

 

Zeta J in red bikini, Laetitia in sporty baby blue bikini, bra strap top, white waistband, hair in festive curly puncher's ponytail.

 

During R1: Jones tarts Laetitia up early - patiently slipping and countering to Casta's ribs as Tish loads up, misses over top. Laetitia slugging freely, carefree - puts ribs, tummy and tits on sale, and Jones is one smart bargain-hunter, scoring with both hands, sliding low to the side and turning her girl midring.

 

R2: Potshotting Jones picks her spots, keeps scoring. Casta wading in brazen, showing no respect - hands are low, she's swinging wide rights and lefts, head-hunting almost exclusively. Catherine much more body-conscious, slipping low, inside the arc of Casta's brawny haymakers and ripping short, thumping hooks or right hands into Laetitia's world-class torso. Final minute, Jones working out of the crouch, sliding back, luring Casta forward: she catches La-Tish late with the same counter-left hook she cooked Biel's goose with. CASTA GOES DOWN! Laetitia sprawling on her back in the same tingly stupor Jessica Biel found herself in, but Casta won't succumb. French woman twitches away creeping KO paralysis, gets to her feet and is ragged goods, but standing at the bell.

 

R3: Laetitia Casta brawls back! 'Tish flat footed, still swooning slightly, but trudging hard into Catherine - French woman slugging short, clubbing rights and lefts as she wades in, forcing Jones to ropes. CZJ right at her cheek, left across her gut, slipping and rolling, blocking and clinching - she's clearly shaken that Casta's got so much brawl left in her. Casta heavy handed, but sloppy: targetting radar still messed up - she's missing or wrapping alot of shots as Jones moves head well, stays safe in the pocket. Jones holding, getting ref's breaks, content to read Casta and react, minimizing contact. Bell, Casta relaxing: Jones dips, bounces a tasty right/left off Laetitia's defenceless crotch, folding Casta up in sobbing protest. Angry ref johnny-on-the-spot - he ushers Jones away and administers a terrible chastising: Casta mincing to her corner - trainer wants her to start going to Jones' "aging, over-rated body" more.

 

R4,5: Girls lay in mouth on shoulder, wallowing in one-another's sweat and exhaust, swapping tidy on the inside. Zeta J with that swiping, tight delivery, stripping Casta across the jaw, breasts, tucking in behind her elbows, cuffing that flat tummy. Laetitia more bullheaded, pounding her way into Jones' midriff with pumping lefts and rights, leaving herself vulnerable to cute little sidesteps and pivots as Jones induces Casta forward, then turns her. Give La-Tish credit: this is Catherine's fight and Casta's not shying away from it, determined to put mileage on that expensive, pale chassis. Jones takes the rounds as she's a little cuter, more efficient operating inside Casta's arms.

 

R6: Laetitia still intent on setting down and punching, but guaging her distance a little better this round: she's extending on punches, shellacking Jones' shoulders and flanks, forcing British beauty to bend and roll. Steady Casta pressure for two minutes, long, basting punches punishing Jones, but late the round, Catherine shows cunning. Jones sliding back, staying low - she slips a sweeping Casta right, answers back a bloodcurling, short-jerking hook flat to crotch, slides the right foot back and straightens to pick up Casta's chin the curling left uppercut. Casta put wobbly butt - foul setting up a serious chin-check - all she can do to keep her legs. Laetitia reaching for Zeta J's head and shoulders in a woozy clinch - Catherine indulging herself with short-shrugging lefts and rights to belly and breasts, systematically pulverizing Casta in the grasp. Tisha all blurry-eyed, pouty-mouthed at the bell - Jones flashing that confident haughty grin en route to her corner.

 

R7: Slugging Casta just won't quit - dukes gathered at her chin, she steps out strong, looking to hook British breadbasket and sweep right hands to Jones' ear/jaw. Catherine responding with head-movement and counters to the body - digging up into Casta's ribs in rousing two-way trade early. Laetitia slowly imposing her will, forcing Jones backwards and extending on punches - Casta's improved committment to the body starting to pay dividends. Down the stretch, tired Catherine setting up at the ropes: Casta drills her a bandy-armed lead right hand, turns on a lanky hook upside the head and SCATTERS JONES TO ALL FOURS! Laetitia hopping back as Cathy sputters to hands and knees - French laughter burning British ears as Casta skips to neutral corner. Jones up, dazed, and hating at the bell.

 

R8: Casta POURING herself at Jones - more long right hand leads, well-oiled hooks to head and flank. Catherine crossing her arms, wilting, shying away - she's starting to get banged up and she's not liking Laetitia's strapping left hands in the body one bit. Final minute - Jones bobbing low, takes a roping right/left across her kidneys - her knees buckle and she reacts on instinct: HEINOUS left hook buries itself to Casta's trunks! Laetitia sobbing aloud, falling into Jones' arms - Catherine muscling Casta to ropes, putting her body on Laetitia and PUMPING righty to crotch again...AND AGAIN! Casta gurgling, sinks to all fours as glaring Zeta Jones, looms overtop, chest heaving. REF STARTS COUNTING! Crowd booing as official mistakes Jones' outrageous crotch music for legit body punching - poor Casta has to haul herself up without benefit of a break. Casta teary-eyed as Jones marches in to clean up - Cathy able to swing away to the bell as ramshackle French girl covers up hurrrrrt.

 

R9: CASTA WON'T HAVE IT! Laetitia shakes off the pain to go right at Zeta Jones, catching Catherine attempting to finish and landing, clean, hard blows midring. Jones staggered as Casta strokes away head and body - British girl finally sliding away sideways from the heat. Jones chased to ropes and Casta squares away - French girl pushing up on Catherine's shoulders, bracing her, then shellacking her, lavishing Jones with great, lashing lefts and rights in the horizontal plane. Cathy right hand at left cheek, left across her gut just rolling punches, riding it out - she can't believe Casta's still slugging with authority after all she's suffered. Bludgeoning beat down for Zeta Jones - she takes it hard in the flanks, but manages to keep her chin safe as Casta romps bell to bell.

 

R10: LaTish a little punched out - Jones able to make use of the slower tempo. Catherine jabbing now, spreading Casta out, then diving in with sucker-right hands to temple, clinching up tight. Ol' punch n' clutch an aging fighter's best friend - Catherine just managing Casta at this point, finessing her, making her feel the weight against the ropes - Laetitia too tired to shake it off. Jones stinks out the joint to the bell, drawing boos for her lack of showmanship down the stretch - hard feelings as girls must be physically separated by ref at the break. Comes back UD10 Catherine Zeta Jones.

 

After: Jones showing Casta that spiteful, haughty smile - luscious brunette shaking out her hair and forcing eye contact as security guards gently separate the fighters. Jones snatching away two rounds, the sixth and ninth, that Laetitia was clearly winning - probably the difference in a close tussle. Veteran Brit finding ways to win, albeit in unsavoury fashion to some - Casta stomping her foot prettily in protest, petitioning ringside officials - it is simply unconscionable that Zeta Jones should be rewarded for her conduct tonight.

 

"Cheap sluts always whine when lashed by their betters," Jones shrugs, "I would expect Casta to snivel like a gut-kicked dog after another thrashing from moi. I've had tougher fights from disobedient servants!"