Fight 5 (Amber Nova vs. Trish Stratus)

Tale of the Tape:

Amber Nova (1-0-0, 1 KO)
5'4, 31 years old
Team America

vs.

Trish Stratus (8-10-0, 6 KO)
5'4, 47 years old
Team Canada

(Written by Celebrity Wrestling Federation/Results by Lookout!)

Intro:
“AND NOW! Making her 2nd appearance in the ring under the Celebrity Wrestling Federation flag. Please welcome the South Carolina native, standing 5 foot 4, weighing in at 110 pounds, AMBERRRR NOOOOOVA!!”

Outfits:
Amber Nova’s chiseled frame was made for the skimpy CWF attire; her sleek, rippling abdomen tightly strung up in a thin-banded tube top that mushroomed her perky B-cups tightly to her swelling sternum, her slender hips bit into by a high-waisted string thong that split her plump, bronzed cheeks and disappeared between their folds. Still somewhat unnerved by her brand new, lewd attire, the fidgety Nova’s face flushed as she slid into the ring, settling into her corner and sweeping her long, braided locks over a shoulder.

Clad in a skimpy, skin-tight leather push-up bra and cheeky thong, Trish Stratus instantly caught just as many sets of eyes as she had in her prime. The 47 year old former Diva still had just as bombastic and provocative an in-ring presence as ever, and despite losing four in a row, her confidence and electricity hadn’t dissipated. The younger Nova was understandably antsy, shuffling in her corner as one of the trailblazing Divas she grew up watching stole the ring entirely.

Try number two for Team America to close out the event, but Stratus looked as though she’d be anything but a pushover.

Round 1:
The first round was as tentative and sloppy as one might expect. A rookie making just her second career start, and a veteran clinging to her twilight years; both of whom would have been far more comfortable if the ring were designed instead for professional wrestling. Even in her late 40’s, Stratus’ physique was enviable for just about anyone; but Nova was the rare exception. The sporty, sculpted redhead poked and prodded at the busty blonde; working her gut just as she’d had so much success doing against Naomi Knight. Unlike Knight, however; Stratus was oozing with guile from so many years in the ring. The seasoned Canadian took her time, flexing and contorting her rippling midsection through the early onslaught of hooks and jabs to the body; weathering the storm until she was able to rebut with a ferocious, looping one-two that snuck beneath Nova’s ribs and tore through her slender abdomen. Amber let out a throaty bleat, her hips yo-yoing between the blonde’s crunchy blows before slinking back toward the ropes to lick her wounds.

Nova furrowed her brow as Stratus coyly grinned, bullying the wiry redhead into the corner with brutal power overhands; clanging with echoing claps of leather and flesh as she carelessly bludgeoned the American’s guard. Nova had no answer as Stratus wailed away against her pinched forearms, finally beginning to crack before lashing out with a feathered hook that pierced Trish’s exposed navel and backed her off just before the bell. Stratus’ reckless aggression takes the first narrowly, 10-9.

Round 2/3:
After a star-struck ‘meet your heroes’ moment, then having that reverence beaten flat out of her; Nova came out with a much more composed and direct second. While Stratus hadn’t lost too much of her raw punching power, she was nowhere near as fleet-of-foot as the lean, nimble kid across the ring. Nova pliably ducked a Stratus crow-hop just after the glove-touch to start the round, ripping a bifurcating uppercut into the blonde’s belly. Stratus coiled and loaded a venomous right, but Nova rudely interrupted with a trio of machine-gun chugs to the ribs before polishing the blonde’s rack with a thumping straight right between her tits. A guttural, throaty whimper burst from the Toronto-native’s ruby-painted lips, wilting toward the corner post as she swaddled her bouncing chest with one arm. In her retreat, Stratus twirled through a clumsy overhand with her other; drumming Nova’s shoulder but not stopping her beachhead assault.

Nova slung a pair of tight hooks into the blonde’s liver, scrunching her against the post before an alternating left careened into her temple and knocked her into the ropes. Stratus leaned on years of experience as she desperately shelled up, only breaking down her walls when Nova stopped to breathe and two-hand shoving her to create some temporary space.

After the bell gave her a brief reprieve, it took Nova just thirty seconds in the third to dog-walk Stratus right back into the same corner; pinwheeling through an exhaustive onslaught of overhands and hooks that methodically climbed their way up Trish’s abdomen before ending at her cranium. Stratus awkwardly sloshed and bounced between a drumming of zipper-hooks; her skull thrashed between the American’s leather mits as Amber washed over the feeble, sagging blonde. Managing to pull the twirling redhead into a handsy underhand clinch for a few rejuvenating seconds, Stratus finally bucked free and escaped across the ring; gassed but living to fight another round. Nova completely owns the second and third, taking both 10-8.

Round 4:
Amber had Trish on a leash; dragging the hapless blonde right back toward the same corner she’d chosen for dissection of the former Diva in the previous two rounds. Using her left to direct the wobbly Stratus, Nova pistoned merciless straight right hands up her abdomen; starting at the waistline and ending with a thundering overhand to the center of her swelling bosom. Trish’s muscled frame rattled as she was bludgeoned into the ropes, wincing as she rebounded, but taking a purposeful step off-course from where she was expected.

Suddenly Nova let out a shrill yelp as Trish slid sideways and curled a venomous right hook into the side of her perky left breast, crudely jiggling her tightly wrapped orbs as the punch thumped home. Dropping the crook of her elbow to cover her ribs, the redhead’s jaw fell wide open, dribbling her mouthpiece to the mat as a pitiful whimper eased from her lips. Her tight abdomen spasmed as she struggled to breathe, breaking into a frenzied pant as though a shiv had been slipped right through her fleshy side-boob. Trish could smell Amber’s desperation, vaulting bullishly into her and slinging meaty hooks into Nova’s hips and navel; flurrying with a final exclamation point uppercut that crunched the tip of Nova’s chin. The swooning redhead took a clumsy misstep, her legs crossing and buckling as she stumbled gracelessly into the ropes before spilling into the fetal position on her knees. Nova’s anguished sputtering was drowned out by the chaotic roar of the pro-Canadian crowd, sliding to a near split on her haunches as her compact midsection curled and flexed with winded convulsions.

1… 2… 3… 4… 5… Nova crudely spread her thighs as she sunk lower to the canvas, cradling her pulsing sternum as her entire frame contorted into a pathetic, crouched ball.

6… 7… 8… 9… 10!!

"And your winner, by KO in Round 4, TRIIIIISSSSHHH STRAAAAATUS!!!!"


Post Fight:
Pausing briefly to bask in the adulation pouring in from her first win since 2018, Stratus threw her fist in the air and let out a fiery roar as though she’d just claimed another Diva’s Championship. Nova meanwhile was puddled at her heel, still cradling her torso as Trish slipped out of her gloves and tossed them through the ropes. Amber hoarsely shrieked as Trish leaned down and twisted her digits around the long tail of her braided locks, yanking her first to her knees, then her wobbly heels. Streaks of mascara smeared across her cheeks as the younger Diva blubbered and shook her head in protest, pleading before Trish hooked the back of her neck and stuffed her head beneath the crook of her armpit in a rough Side Headlock; burying her flushed cheek against her ample, swelling bust. Amber desperately stamped her heels and pried at the blonde’s locked wrists, wiggling her lithe frame before the Canadian took off toward the ropes. Amber trudged through quicksand as she followed in-tow, yelping as Trish vaulted airborne and leapt up to the top rope; springing off for an overkill Stratusfaction.

In a flash of lightning, Stratus slung her dead weight toward the canvas, driving Nova’s forehead into the mat with her callous, signature Flying Bulldog. The redhead’s limbs sloppily detonated and slid spread eagle, her upturned ass the last thing to stop jiggling as her frame was buckled face-first against the canvas. Nova’s slender sternum sputtered and swelled with short, abbreviated pants and spasms; twitching as Trish snarled at her hip, observing her handiwork on the comatose American. Trish scooped a hand beneath the redhead’s floundering torso, palming one of her perky orbs and sloshing her to her backside with a clumsy thud. Planting a groping palm atop Nova’s panting sternum, Trish called for a second count from the official; barking in unison with the full throat of the crowd as she took a 3-count victory lap.


Can-Am Border Bash: Team America (3) vs. Team Canada (2)