Posted by Simguy on 5/29/2008, 6:43 pm.

Before: “Mariah comes in STEAMIN’ early,” Elizabeth says, eyes wide. “so you’ve got to be ready for that. My goal is to sit her down in the first three rounds—really get that respect and take away her confidence. If I can do that, I’ll have fun working her gut and taking her deep into the fight. She’ll be begging me to stop her late—you watch,” Carey Rarely attending pre-fight functions—when she does, she’s invariably late: some things never change. “I firmly believe that no woman on earth can handle my haymakers for 10 rounds,” Mariah states in one podium appearance, “Elizabeth’s getting knocked out, then we can start talk with Mandy Moore’s people. I don’t have time for qualifiers and chump has-beens: this waist was born to wear gold.” Berkley in black velvet bikini; long blonde hair in high ponytail; white gloves. Mariah in Mexican Festival bikini—aqua, pinks, yellows—white gloves; blonde curls.

During R1: Berkley fighting tall—right out front her mouth—jabbing stiff left hands one and two at a time, Mariah stalking--tummy, jugs and backside all jiggling as she steps off the ring—gloves at her mouth. It’s all Berkley—jab pounding Mariah’s face back—Liz steppin’ left after scoring, constantly turning Carey’s right flank. Midway through, Liz has Mariah’s nose bleeding—and jabs are pounding at Mariah’s eyes to good effect. Carey snarling, leaning in and sweeping right hands at Berkley’s head: Liz able to read easily—leaning away from trouble, sidestepping, then putting that stiff poke on Mariah again. Down the stretch, Berkley weight on left (front) foot, pushing off the right big toe to shell Mariah stiff, stiff jabs: Carey punched repeatedly on her face, getting her breasts parted as Berkley slams out a healthy one-handed shutout.

R2: More of the same. Liz wide eyed, hyper-alert—almost fighting scared, but it’s working for her. She’s punching very crisply with that jab, stepping it into Mariah, then pivoting around sulking superstar. Carey late on her receipts, usually waving a right hand at the space just vacated by wheeling Liz. Berkley punishing the Carey jugs via the jab as well—pounding beefy at ‘em, spanking away while rotating clockwise. Midway through, Liz deploys her first right hands into Carey’s cuddly midriff—leaning in, driving straight punches hard off the target—staying low on follow through to avoid counters. Mariah visibly frustrated but unable to surge forward: Elizabeth is hitting Mariah very, very hard here—big, splashy right hands fully extended ti the body and pulsing jabs that land like most girls ’punches.

‘R3: Carey weigh in right foot, pawing the jab: it’s not much, but it’s paving the way for Mariah to lunge forward and sweep the right hand to Berkley’s torso, Elizabeth stroked hard from her left shoulder to the right hip—Mariah leaning in and landing with heft—but Liz able to step out of range, walk around, then jab Mariah into compliance. Mariah crouching slightly, but not moving her head at all: Liz just teeing off, stepping around, controlling the flow. Carey’s sporadic right hands enough to discourage Elizabeth’s body-punching—but Berkley’s left still punishing Mariah for points outside.

R4: Mariah slowing down, mouthbreathing: she’s walking into Elizabeth’s jab and looking dazed rather than angry. Berkley’s eyes still wide with concentration—she ste0ps left around doubled-up pokes to Mariah’s beautiful, drowsy face--then pounds those jugs a stiff left, followed by two more jabs in the face and a swing-pivot left, Carey wobbly butt from jabs—she’s eating too many in succession, never backing off to regroup, just baby-stepping forward into even more abuse. After a minute, Liz feels safe enough to drive in straight-shafting rights down into Mariah’s cushy midsection: Carey shouting out now, cringing forward—her elbows edging down to her gut to protect, More jabs pound against Carey’s eyes/cheeks/forehead as Elizabeth steps left—Berkley in wide stance, weight on left foot, pushing off the right (back) big tie to maximize her condor reach, Mariah turning, staring into punishment: Elizabeth shells away a brace of jabs, jugs and face, then leans into a CRASHING right cross to chin, Mariah gobbles it—head swiveling—she stumbles sideways, jugs a-jumping, gets her feet entangled and collapses awkwardly to the canvas. Poor Mariah struggling up off her hands and knees, legs spasming out of control and pitching her wildly into ropes: that’s all ref needs to see. Official waves this thing off—cradling a blubbering Carey against ropes, Near perfect TKO4, Elizabeth Berkley.

After: Berkley beaming, majestic in postfight as gloves are removed: she utterly dismantles a dangerous, but one-punch-at-a-time Carey tonight in spectacular fashion. “Popstar putty!” Liz bleats in camera, jazzed by what she was able ti get done on Mariah. “I totally controlled her rounds—that was the thing: she never got off on me like she really wanted to and she was pretty much gassed after a few minutes. She was throwing hard, Charlize-busting type punches—but she couldn’t find me. And do I really need to brag on my jab, guys? Huh? You saw it: I’ve got the bets jab in the division—by far. I bloodied her and battered her with poke—that right hand was just icing, baby!”

Reposted by Archer 3/11/14.