A/N: Ladies and Gentlemen, you are invited to the fight of the century as two lovely ladies, Olivia Corin from "Wives and Sweethearts" and Charlotte Mowett from "Abbotsleigh Park", battle it out in a mud pit for Pullings. Yep, it's the USA vs the UK! After all their talking and brave speeches in the reviews and replies in Abbotsleigh, it seemed like the right thing to do, so here we are, the Thunderdome is ready to go, and the boys are eager to watch the girls fight for the glory of an evening with Tom. Whoa, it's gonna be huge! Please please review…I will post part two as soon as I get a chance to write it!
Oh, and the rating is so high for swearing, and for adult concepts. There will be quite a few of both here, people, and I really didn't think this story was for the young ones, especially when we get to part two.
PS – Thank you so much to Bean02 for lending me Olivia Corin. She's a top chick – love her! Can't wait for the Wives and Sweethearts sequel!
Hushed. All were waiting, eager, expectant. The dome had been prepared earlier in the day, the local inhabitants watching on as its massive walls of steel were swung into place. The mud was laid down, slippery and ugly, and the neon flashing sign was carefully erected on the Dome's open framing, a glimmering beacon in the lonely darkness…
Tonight only:
Pullings Thunderdome.
Tomorrow Bingo
They had assembled: men, women, children, New Zealanders, to watch the spectacle, the rumour of the confrontation running far and wide, all knowing that this, the event, this incredible moment, would undoubtedly be the fight of the century.
As the crowd waited, almost panting from their longing for the battle to start, they were suddenly blinded by a light, a light like no other, as the huge gold doors separating the massive Surprise Palace from the Thunderdome opened, and there, in the blinding rays, emerged Pullings, Tom Pullings himself, in full Dress Uniform, his face expressionless, his gold buttons shining, and his dark eyes focused on the moment at hand.
He was also carrying a bowl of popcorn.
To his right stood Mowett, William Mowett, striding beside the great leader, the golden epaulettes on his shoulder sparkling in the rays of light that lit the way for the master. His face was cold; he knew what was about to happen, and what it could mean for himself, and for his family, though he kind of admitted to himself that it was all rather exciting, actually…
To Tom's left walked Aubrey, Jack Aubrey, Captain, former Great One, friend to all but the bouncers in Coffs Harbour. He was young, he was pretty, and he was rather a good time when one was stranded in a country town with nothing but a pick-up truck and a 12 gauge shot gun to pass the time. He was grinning from ear to ear, his desire evident, knowing that the spectacle he was now honoured to witness could never be seen anywhere else, except perhaps at the Pink Pussycat Nightclub in the Cross, but that was another story…
Pullings slowly walked the red carpet, lined with flickering candles, making his way majestically to the balcony, and his perfect view of the Thunderdome. This was his place, his event, and he licked his lips almost hungrily at the thought of the impending battle. He looked down, seeing the mud, and smiled, his until now expressionless face beaming. Yes, this would be good, very good.
The crowd had climbed the steel framing of the Dome, lining the entire expanse from top to bottom. They were silent, so silent, until that moment, when a tiny gate in the back of the Dome opened with an ominous creak, and in he walked, the man, that great man, the judge, jury and executioner, who would begin the events with his usual grace and style.
Unfortunately, as he entered the gate, he misjudged its height, hitting his head rather unceremoniously on the bar that ran above it.
"D'oh!" he shouted, as usual.
Yes, it was the Great Homer.
He strode to the centre of the Thunderdome, his special gripping shoes preventing him from slipping in the mud, his beer and doughnut stained shirt shimmering in the golden light that shone from above as the spotlight trained its eye on him, and only him. The crowd were hushed, waiting for his words of wisdom to light their lives, and bring them knowledge and understanding, beyond any other.
"Hi, um, yeah," the Great Homer began, as all listened on expectantly. "Well, I am here cause there's gonna be a fight. Whohooo!" he shouted, throwing his hands in the air, prompting the audience to join him, whoops and calls ringing out from all around the Dome.
The Great Homer raised his hands again to bring the Dome to order. "Shut up, OK?" he said as the watchers returned to their respectful, hushed state. "It's time to bring them out, yeah??"
The Great Homer glanced up to the podium, where Pullings, his face once again expressionless, nodded lightly as me munched on popcorn, flatly refusing to share the bowl with anyone.
"Nah, fuck you," he said as little blonde boy Aubrey reached in for a snack. "Get your own, you loser. This is my story, got it! No long panning shots for you here, pretty boy."
Aubrey backed away, terrified, as Pullings stared him down, Mowett chuckling lightly at Pullings chiding of their former master. Yes, this was indeed a very, very special day, Tom thought as he muched away happily, and there was no way that that useless little prick Aubrey was about to steal his limelight. God damn it, the Acheron mission was bad enough.
The nod from Pullings gave the Great Homer his cue, and he once again raised his hands in the air grandly.
"Then lets bring them out! Woohoo!!" he yelled, the crowd taking up the calls as the Great Homer removed a sheet of paper from his pocket, creased, worn and beer stained, carrying the names of those who would grace the Dome with their presence this evening.
"First," he called over the shouts of the crowd, "we bring the lady herself. The Queen of West Virginia, woman of the future, the one with whom the hope of the American people now rests. We salute her, and say she is a bloody hot chick. My Lord Pullings, ladies and gentlemen, I give you, Olivia Corin!"
The crowd erupted at Olivia's name as the far gate opened slowly, revealing the beautiful Miss Corin, robed in a long, black overcoat, waiting patiently to make her entrance. She strode purposefully out into the Dome, the crowd screaming "Corin!" "Corin!" over and over as the Mistress of West Virginia offered honey-dripping smiles to all who looked on. When she reached the centre of the Dome, she looked up at the podium and smiled a wicked smile. Pullings immediately grinned back, his excitement taking over. As he watched on, his face beamed as Olivia slowly unfastened her coat buttons, letting her coat drop into the mud at her feet as the crowd went wild.
A bikini. The skimpiest, smallest bikini Tom had ever seen, barely covering her nakedness, the stars and stripes pattern of the fabric shimmering under the spotlight as it caressed her tender flesh.
"Whoa, yeah!" Pullings screamed, almost losing his bowl of popcorn as the crowd chanted Olivia's name over and over. Mowett, although stone faced, allowed a small smile to flicker across his heavy features as he noted the curves of her body, oh so perfect…
The Great Homer moved again to the centre of the Dome, raising his hands to gather the silence. "OK, OK, shut the hell up, will you?" he screamed. "There's still one more to come." He took a deep breath, reading once again from the paper in his hand, barely able to make out the words through the Duff stains.
"Yeah, um, and now," he said grandly, the crowd hushed in anticipation, "we welcome her opponent. She's a lady, and she's oh so fine. She's the Mistress of Chatsworth, direct from the world of Regency, her corset loosened for this night of nights. Representing the pride of the Mother Country, please make her welcome…Miss Charlotte Mowett!"
Once again the crowd erupted as, on the opposite side of the dome, a small figure appeared, cloaked and hooded, head bowed, waiting for their cue. The figure slowly approached the centre of the Dome, precariously making its way through the mud to where Olivia stood, stretching in preparation for the fight. As the hooded figure slowly drifted across the Dome, the crowd went quiet, not quite knowing what to expect under the cloak. When the figure reached the centre, standing opposite Corin, the crowd held their breath, waiting for the cloak to fall.
"Holy shit! Whoa, yeah, yeah, YEAH!" shouted Pullings, finally losing his popcorn as the cloak was dropped from the figure's shoulders, revealing Charlotte Mowett, her golden hair pinned gracefully above her head, her slender body robed in a bikini even smaller than Olivia's, if that was possible. The bikini top was richly decorated with the Union Jack, her g-string perched precariously on her delicate hips. She smiled sweetly up at Tom, also offering a small nod of acknowledgement to her brother, who stood beside the great Pullings, his eyes lighting up as his sister revealed her gorgeous body.
Yep, that's my girl. Shame she got the nice arse genes, though…he thought silently.
Charlotte turned back to Olivia, pure hatred in her eyes as the crowd now cheered "Charlotte!" "Charlotte!" over and over again. The two women glared at each other, circling like vultures as the Great Homer stood between them, almost drooling at the thought of the impending fight. It was time.
He slowly stepped back, allowing them to look on each other openly. Both women were locked in a psychological battle, silent and deadly, eyeing each other with a vicious look of intent and anger. This was going to be one hell of a fight.
The Great Homer looked to his piece of beer-stained paper once more, raising a hand to hush the crowd. "OK, OK, you all know the rules here," he shouted. "This is the Pullings Thunderdome. Two women enter, one woman leaves with Tom." He read carefully. "You each choose a weapon," he indicated towards the racks on either side of the dome, containing a variety of interesting looking implements, "but only one weapon, which you may use as you will. Oh, and there are only two main rules in this Thunderdome, lovely ladies," he concluded grandly to the impatient women who seethed before him. "No switch blades, and no hair pulling. Got it??"
Charlotte and Olivia both nodded slightly, indicating that they understood the rules. They were moving around in a menacing circle, both women unable to keep still from their nervous energy.
The Great Homer then bowed grandly towards the podium, before turning and making his way gingerly across the mud to his exit, only slipping once he had reached it and could be pulled unceremoniously from the pit, screaming.
Once again, the crowd was hushed, waiting, anticipating. The two women, full of hate, stared each other down with a force that could shatter granite. They were still circling, eager to begin, seething with fury, hungry for the victory and all it would mean. They both glanced up at the podium where Tom stood, panting in his eagerness. His lovely blonde assistant (and backup for the evening in case both girls ended up dead in the Dome) handed him the striker, before he moved slowly and purposefully across the podium to where the huge gong stood, his face beaming. Tom lifted the striker, sweeping it in a graceful arc in the air, bringing it down on the gong with a thud, the deep, bell like sound ringing out over the Dome with a menacing undertone.
The fight of the century had begun.
For your reference:
- Coffs Harbour is a town in northern New South Wales, Australia, where Russell Crowe lives. He got into a bit of trouble not long ago for getting into a brawl in a nightclub, hence the reference. He likes to use his fists, does our Russell!!
- The Pink Pussycat Nightclub in the Cross (being Kings Cross) is one of the most famous girly bars in Sydney, apparently well worth a visit if you are coming to our fair shores, boys…
Plus, for any of you who are curious as to why the Thunderdome is a mud pit, well, Pullings asked for it to be a mud pit with his ladies in bikinis in one of the Abbotsleigh reviews. He was also popping corn long before this fight in anticipation, apparently.
Tom: Absolutely. This is gonna be AWESOME!!!!
Me: OK, calm down. Part two will be along shortly.
Tom: Please, please, sooner rather than later…my ladies sliding around mud in bikinis…ahh, heaven…
Me: (sighs) Men.
Also, please note that although you don't need to have read "Wives and Sweethearts" or "Abbotsleigh Park" for Part One, you will need to know at least a snippet of the story details of both for Part Two, so if you haven't read them, it may be an idea to familiarize yourself with some of the events and characters, even just in the first and last few chapters, as they may just make an appearance or two throughout the fight…
Oh, and why is Homer Simpson the MC, I hear you ask? I have no idea. Just happened that way!! I figured Homer would be up for some chicks mud wrestling, so why not!!!
Till part two, see ya!!