2. Imane ‘Pokimane’ Anys vs Danielle Panabaker
May 22, 2024 2:37:08 GMT -6
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Post by Queens of Absolution on May 22, 2024 2:37:08 GMT -6
LND: Imane ‘Pokimane’ Anys vs Danielle Panabaker
(Results: Lookout / Words: Queens)
Danielle Panabaker:
(35, 5’7”, 119lbs, 3:6 FCBA, Queens of Absolution)
Imane ‘Pokimane’ Anys:
(27, 5’4”, 117lbs, 0:0 FCBA, Streamer Influencers Fight Club)
BEFORE:
With dusk falling on Allegiant Stadium the most unexpected match up would kick off “Legends Never Die” and bring the Streamer Influencers Fight Club Stable which was newly formed right on an explosive collision course with the established Queens of Absolution. However, in one of the Queens’ VIP Suites, Amy Acker could be seen laughing as Anne Winters was pointing towards something where Streamer Influencers Fight Club was sitting and the questionable look on Zooey Deschanel’s face probably said it all: 70,000 people and probably no one has a clue who these people are.
Dressed from head to toe in navy blue - sports bra, briefs, boxing gloves, boots; blonde hair loose and free flowing framing her face picturesquely, Danielle Panabaker looked in the mirror at the reflection of her athletic, toned, pale body but also at her trainer, Saraya. “How the f*ck did I end up with a match against a nobody - it’s a cruel joke,” Danielle said clenching her fists.
“Save it for the ring,” Saraya started, “you’re opening up for the Queens tonight and Amy thought you could do with your first match of the year. I’m not supposed to tell you this but go out there and make this ‘Pokimane’ regret ever stepping into the ring,” Saraya adamantly proposed.
Danielle closed the locker as she turned to face Saraya. “It’s called the Female ‘Celebrity’ Boxing Association and now we’re letting people who f*cking sit on their ass all day begging for money in. Oh yes, I’m going to make sure she regrets stepping in that ring,” Danielle stated angrily.
A short while later, Pokimane stood at the center of the ring in Allegiant Stadium having already come down the challenger’s ramp. She was dressed head to toe in black boxing attire with her hair in a ponytail. She pranced around the ring getting a warm up in but little did she know she was about to be outnumbered by the Queens’ Arrow Three.
The lights swung over to the Queen’s ramp which was glowing in Queens Blue and Queens Purple haze when three figures appeared. Danielle Panabaker, still dressed in her chosen ring attire, was now flanked by Melissa Benoist in a blue top and red mini-skirt as well as Willa Holland in a red leather jacket and black pants. Melissa, of course, best known for her role as CW’s Supergirl and Willa Holland best known for her role as CW’s Thea ’Speedy’ Queen - both from the arrowverse and together with Danielle, made up the Queens’ Arrow Three.
As the Queens Arrow Three made their way down the ramp led by Danielle, in the VIP Suite with Amy Acker, a loud “what the hell are they doing” echoed from Amy. Anne replied, “it’s a message that streamers can’t compete.” Zooey smirked and added, “and yes, who better than heroines.” Amy a bit flustered she didn’t know this was happening yelled “unless they f*cking beat us at lightweight! We will be humiliated.”
“Even if they do win against Monica, our point will have been made, Melissa and Willa would have made sure of that” Anne stated sinisterly. Amy just sighed.
Back at the ring, the Queens Arrow Three reached the ring and Danielle climbed the ropes, sliding in. The stark contrast in height differences and athleticism could be seen immediately. Imane had a serious uphill battle if she hoped to even stand a chance against Danielle but upsets can and do happen.
Pokimane would offer a glove but Danielle wasn’t interested telling the ref all he needed to know as he called both girls over to go over the mandatory and then send them back to their corners. Danielle with ice in her eyes. Imane with newfound spirit of a beginner in the FCBA in her eyes. The ref raised his hand, and cut through the air to signal the bell.
Ten rounds of Bantamweight action and the opening to ‘Legends Never Die’ began with a ding and yellow pyrotechnics!
Round 01:
Right from the bell, Danielle Panabaker comes out swinging, her eyes locked on Pokimane with the ferocity of a lioness. She's a towering figure of strength, using her height advantage to keep Pokimane at bay. "You think you can touch me?" Danielle taunts, her voice dripping with disdain as she lands a solid jab to Pokimane's cheek, setting the tone for the round.
Pokimane, the underdog in this battle, attempts to weave and dodge, her feet shuffling across the mat in a desperate bid for survival. She throws a counter, aiming for Danielle's ribs, but it's like hitting a wall. Danielle just laughs, a sound that echoes menacingly through the stadium. "Is that all you've got?" she mocks, unfazed.
The onslaught continues, Danielle expertly maneuvering around Pokimane's defenses. She throws a vicious combination, a left hook followed by a right uppercut, each blow precise, powerful, sending shockwaves through Pokimane's frame. The crowd can almost feel the force of Danielle's punches, each one a testament to her superior skill and strength.
Pokimane's resolve begins to crack under the relentless barrage. Tears well in her eyes, not just from the pain of the physical assault but from the realization of her vulnerability. Danielle, sensing weakness, zeroes in, her attacks becoming more ferocious. "Cry me a river, will you?" Danielle sneers, her gloves a blur as they connect with Pokimane's body, leaving a trail of bruises.
Despite the onslaught, Pokimane tries to mount a defense, her gloves raised in a feeble attempt to protect herself. But it's no use; Danielle's reach and power are overwhelming. With each hit, Pokimane staggers, her resilience waning, as Danielle lands blow after punishing blow.
Danielle's dominance is undeniable, her technique flawless. She executes a devastating right hook, followed by a lightning-fast left jab, each punch landing with pinpoint accuracy. "Welcome to the FCBA!" she shouts, her voice filled with triumph as Pokimane reels from the attacks.
The round nears its end, and the disparity in skill and strength is clear. Danielle towers over Pokimane, a smirk on her lips as she delivers one final, crushing blow. Pokimane crumbles, barely saved by the bell, her body a map of defeat and pain.
As they return to their corners, Danielle's confidence is sky-high, her gaze still locked on her battered opponent. "Better quit while you can," she taunts, her voice carrying across the silent, shocked stadium. Pokimane, struggling to regain her composure, knows this is only the beginning. But round one belongs to Danielle, decisively and brutally.
Round 02:
Round two kicks off, and oh boy, Pokimane comes out like she's been shot out of a cannon. Gone is the shell-shocked fighter from round one; in her place is a whirlwind of fury and precision. "Who's the underdog now?" she seems to say with every lightning-fast jab.
Danielle, with all her raw strength and reach, looks like she's swinging at ghosts. Pokimane's speed is just insane. She's ducking, weaving, and oh, those shots to Danielle's abs are like she's hitting the jackpot over and over. It's like Danielle's mighty abs are suddenly Pokimane's favourite punching bag.
"You think you had me?" Pokimane taunts, now dancing around Danielle with the grace of a seasoned boxer. Danielle's punches, once feared, now find only air as Pokimane replies with vicious combos to the body, each hit a statement, each dodge a slap to Danielle's confidence.
The crowd's going nuts. It's as if Pokimane's flipped a switch, and now she's schooling Danielle on what speed can do against brute strength. "Eat my dust," her every move seems to scream, leaving Danielle's efforts to land a solid hit looking clumsy, even desperate.
By the end of the round, Danielle's invincible aura is shattered, her abs taking a toll, breathing heavy, as if wondering, "What the heck just hit me?" Meanwhile, Pokimane's corners are a symphony of cheers, her comeback painting a giant exclamation mark all over the ring. Danielle's smirk? History. Pokimane's message is clear - raw strength's got nothing on quick feet and a relentless rain of punches. Round two belongs to Pokimane, wide on points, in a comeback that's got the whole place shaking their heads in disbelief.
Round 03:
Round three explodes into action and Danielle Panabaker is out for blood, her eyes burning with a ferocious determination that spells trouble for Pokimane. "Think you had me figured out, huh?" Danielle sneers, closing the distance with the confident stride of a predator. It's clear from the get-go, Danielle's not playing by the same script; she's rewritten the whole darn playbook.
Pokimane tries to replicate her round two magic, but it's like Danielle's decoded her every move. "Not this time, sweetheart," Danielle taunts, sidestepping a jab with ease before launching a counter-assault that rattles Pokimane. This isn't just a fight; it's a chess match with fists, and Danielle's playing master-level.
Danielle's punches are relentless, each one landing with the kind of bone-crunching force that echoes through the stadium. She catches Pokimane with a brutal right to the nose, sending her opponent staggering back. "Oops, was that your face? My bad," Danielle mocks, a wicked smile on her lips as she watches Pokimane clutch her nose, eyes watering from the intense pain.
The canvas is merciless as Pokimane finds herself rocked off her feet, Danielle's onslaught a maelstrom of precision and power. It's like watching a storm surge against a cliff, each wave (or in this case, punch) eroding what was thought to be solid ground. Pokimane's resilience is admirable, but Danielle's fury is simply overwhelming.
Danielle corners Pokimane, her gloves a blur as they rain down upon her beleaguered opponent. "You thought you were quick? Watch this," Danielle spits out, dodging a desperate swing from Pokimane and countering with a vicious uppercut that nearly lifts her off the ground. The crowd is on its feet, the air electric with anticipation as Danielle continues to dominate.
Despite Pokimane's gutsy performance, the round draws to a close with Danielle clearly on top. She's managed to turn the tables, using Pokimane's overconfidence against her. "Better luck next time, maybe?" Danielle taunts, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she glares down at her opponent, the clear victor of this round. The judges nod in agreement, awarding Danielle the round close on points, but the message is clear: Danielle Panabaker is not to be underestimated.
Round 04:
Round four blasts off, and oh, it’s like the universe itself hit the reset button for Pokimane. Danielle, maybe getting a bit too cocky, thinks she’s got this in the bag; her guard’s lower than a limbo stick at a high school prom. Big mistake. Huge! Pokimane capitalizes like a boss, hammering Danielle with a frenzy of punches that’s got precision and power written all over them.
Danielle tries to shake off the surprise, but nah, she’s about as effective as a paper towel in a monsoon. Pokimane’s on her like white on rice, delivering blow after blow, and for a second there, you'd think she's trying to punch her way through to next week. Danielle’s face reads like a who’s who of “What just happened here?”, her earlier confidence gone faster than the last slice of pizza at a party.
“You sleeping on the job, or what?” Pokimane taunts, her every jab a punctuation mark in this sentence of domination. Danielle's attempt to regain her footing is about as graceful as a newborn giraffe, her earlier dominance a distant memory. Does she even remember how to block? Because right now, it seems she’s practicing for a “Get hit in the face” competition.
By the time the bell mercifully rings, ending the round, Danielle looks like she’s just been through a tutorial on why you never, ever underestimate your opponent, especially not Pokimane. The crowd's going wild, the energy electric, as Pokimane's corner erupts in cheers and high-fives, celebrating a round dominated so completely, you'd think Danielle was just there to make up the numbers.
Pokimane struts back to her corner, owning every inch of that ring. Meanwhile, Danielle’s got that thousand-yard stare, probably wondering how the tables turned so quickly. Round four’s in the bag for Pokimane, wide on points, and if Danielle doesn’t strap her gloves on tight and get her head back in the game, this match is going to slip through her fingers like sand.
Round 05:
Round five blasts off, and the tension's thicker than peanut butter. Danielle Panabaker, eyes blazing with a renewed fire, marches into the ring like she's ready to redefine the word 'comeback.' "Buckle up, 'cause you're about to take the scenic route to the canvas," Danielle sneers at Pokimane, that frosty glint in her eyes signaling a storm on the horizon.
The round starts and Danielle's aggression is a sight to behold; she's like a hurricane, all power and fury, leaving Pokimane scrambling for cover. "Thought you had me, didn't you?" Danielle taunts, her fists delivering a vocabulary of violence as she rewrites the narrative of this fight. Each punch she lands is a word, each combo a sentence, and she's crafting a story where she's the undisputed hero.
"You won't like me when I'm frosty," Danielle had warned, a promise delivered with a vicious twist of Pokimane’s arm that had the crowd gasping. The referee's eyes narrow, but before any call can be made, Danielle releases her grip, a wild smile playing on her lips. "Oops, did I do that?" she mocks, her tone dripping with venom.
Then, like an artist with brush to canvas, Danielle proceeds to dismantle Pokimane. Each move is calculated, a step in the dance of destruction she's choreographed in her mind. The crowd's on the edge of their seats, witnessing what can only be described as a masterclass in boxing. Pokimane tries to rally, but Danielle is relentless, her every strike a signature of intent.
As the minute hand ticks toward the three-minute mark, the atmosphere is electric, charged with the sense of an impending climax. "Ready for the grand finale?" Danielle sneers, as she corners a beleaguered Pokimane. With the precision of a surgeon and the power of a wrecking ball, she unleashes an uppercut that's nothing short of biblical. Pokimane is lifted clear off the canvas, a moment suspended in time, before gravity claims her and she crashes back down to earth.
The referee swoops in, the count begins, and the arena holds its breath. "Night, night, sweetheart," Danielle murmurs, a taunt for Pokimane's ears only, as the count reaches ten and seals the deal. It's over. Danielle Panabaker stands victorious, her fists raised, a warrior bathed in the glory of her conquest.
Pokimane's last stand faded into the echoes of Danielle's domination, the tale of this fight written in the bruises and sweat left in the ring. Danielle's comeback, punctuated by a knockdown for the ages, will be talked about for years to come, a testament to the heart of a champion who refused to be counted out.
Official Decision: Danielle Panabaker defeats Imane “Pokimane” Anys via KO 5!
AFTER:
And there it was, the moment of triumph, as Danielle Panabaker got her hand raised by the ref, beaming like she owned the place (and, frankly, after that display, who's gonna argue?). But it wasn't just a solo spectacle; oh no. Joining her in the ring, striding in like they're the last people you'd want to bump into in a dark alley, were the rest of the Queens Arrow Three: Melissa Benoist and Willa Holland. Their presence alone was enough to send the crowd into a frenzy, but the vibe? Oh, it shifted. You could tell they weren't there to just slap on some congratulatory back pats and call it a day. The triumvirate huddled close, their heads coming together in what could only be described as a sinister think-tank session. The glint in their eyes was not just the reflection of the spotlight—it was the foreboding shine of humiliation schemes being forged against a still-recovering Pokimane. They whispered and chuckled, their plans obscured by the roar of the crowd but crystal clear in intention. This wasn't just victory; this was the prelude to vengeance, a sinister celebration planned with all the tact of a cartoon villain. Poor Pokimane, still piecing her dignity back together, had no clue about the comedic yet cruel twist her night was about to take, courtesy of these three ring maestros.
Melissa, the embodiment of ruthless ambition, didn't waste a moment before showcasing her dark flair for drama. Grabbing Pokimane by the hair, she yanked the defeated woman up, her other hand maliciously twisting Pokimane's arm in an awkward, painful arch. The crowd's cheer morphed into a wild roar, a mix of shock and awe fueling their excitement over the unfolding spectacle of humiliation. "Thought you were the main event, huh?" Melissa sneered into Pokimane's ear, loud enough for the first few rows to catch every word, her breath hot against the side of Pokimane's face.
Dragging her hapless victim to her team's corner, Melissa unleased a barrage of vengeance. With each slam into the turnbuckle, she paired the physical assault with a verbal jab, turning the moment into a twisted performance. "This is for underestimating us!" she taunted with the first impact. "Not so high and mighty now!" she spat with the second. By the third, her voice was a crescendo of mockery, "Bet you're regretting stepping into this ring!" And with the fourth, as Pokimane's body sagged, Melissa delivered the coup de grâce, "Bow down to the real queens of the ring!"
The crowd was in a frenzy, divided between horror and excitement, their reactions fueling Melissa's cruel exhibition. She turned Pokimane's defeat into a spectacle, her taunts echoing in the sudden chilling silence that had fallen over the arena as everyone absorbed the brutal display of dominance. Melissa, reveling in her cruelty, flashed a victorious smirk, knowing she'd turned the ring into a stage for her vindictive theatrics.
Just when you thought the night couldn't get any more insane, Willa Holland steps it up to a whole new level of madness. Out she whips the body saddle - yeah, you heard that right, a freakin’ body saddle. It’s like something out of a wild, twisted fantasy, something the Queens of Absolution swore they’d never touch. But there it was, in all its dubious glory. Melissa, with that devilish gleam in her eye, didn’t hesitate to strap Pokimane in, turning a defeat into full-on spectacle.
The crowd? Oh, they lost their collective minds. Willa climbed atop Pokimane, who by this point was more a prop than a person, and squeezed her legs. The message was loud, clear, and utterly disgraceful. Pokimane, broken and humiliated, could barely manage half a lap around the ring before the point was hammered home. With a flourish, Willa dismounted, and Melissa, ever the queen of the moment, detached the saddle. The act was over, but the statement? That was forever. The point wasn't just made; it was branded into the night, a wild, shameless display of dominance that had the arena oscillating between horror and ecstasy.
Finally, Danielle grabbed Pokimane from behind, her toned arms wrapping around Pokimane's neck and squeezing with the fury of a hurricane. Pokimane struggled, her legs kicking wildly, as Danielle, with the strength of a beast, literally lifted her off the canvas not once, but several times. The audience was a cocktail of shock and awe, eyes wide, mouths agape, some cheering, some gasping, all mesmerized by the savage display. "What's the matter, can't handle a little pressure?" Danielle taunted, her voice dripping with disdain, echoing around the arena, punctuating each brutal lift. "Thought you were tough, huh? Looks like you're just a featherweight!" Pokeimane's attempts to free herself were futile, her face turning a shade of desperate pink, then a worrying shade of red. The fierce grip lasted, extending several seconds beyond what anyone could call reasonable, until Pokimane's struggles ceased, her body going limp in Danielle's unyielding arms. The moment she passed out, Danielle finally released her hold, allowing Pokimane's unconscious form to crumble to the center of the canvas, a defeated heap. The audience was left in a state of conflicted emotion, a mix of amazement at Danielle's overpowering presence and horror at the extent of her ruthlessness. "Looks like nighty-night for the internet's darling," Danielle sneered, stepping back to admire her handiwork, her insult hanging in the air as proof of her domination.
Finally, the medics were allowed to rush in, their presence a stark contrast to the chaos that had just unfolded. As they swarmed around Pokimane, the crowd's focus shifted to the departing trio, the infamous Queens Arrow Three. The air was electric, a chaotic blend of cheers, jeers, and pure, unadulterated shock as they strutted backstage like they owned the place. Melissa, Willa, and Danielle didn't just walk; they paraded, each step a statement of their untouchable status. The crowd, whether in disgust or admiration, couldn't help but fuel their ego, their cheers a twisted soundtrack to the merciless display they had just orchestrated. It was clear, in that moment, that these three weren't just boxers; they were legends in their own right, their names forever etched into the annals of Allegiant Stadium infamy.
(Results: Lookout / Words: Queens)
Danielle Panabaker:
(35, 5’7”, 119lbs, 3:6 FCBA, Queens of Absolution)
Imane ‘Pokimane’ Anys:
(27, 5’4”, 117lbs, 0:0 FCBA, Streamer Influencers Fight Club)
BEFORE:
With dusk falling on Allegiant Stadium the most unexpected match up would kick off “Legends Never Die” and bring the Streamer Influencers Fight Club Stable which was newly formed right on an explosive collision course with the established Queens of Absolution. However, in one of the Queens’ VIP Suites, Amy Acker could be seen laughing as Anne Winters was pointing towards something where Streamer Influencers Fight Club was sitting and the questionable look on Zooey Deschanel’s face probably said it all: 70,000 people and probably no one has a clue who these people are.
Dressed from head to toe in navy blue - sports bra, briefs, boxing gloves, boots; blonde hair loose and free flowing framing her face picturesquely, Danielle Panabaker looked in the mirror at the reflection of her athletic, toned, pale body but also at her trainer, Saraya. “How the f*ck did I end up with a match against a nobody - it’s a cruel joke,” Danielle said clenching her fists.
“Save it for the ring,” Saraya started, “you’re opening up for the Queens tonight and Amy thought you could do with your first match of the year. I’m not supposed to tell you this but go out there and make this ‘Pokimane’ regret ever stepping into the ring,” Saraya adamantly proposed.
Danielle closed the locker as she turned to face Saraya. “It’s called the Female ‘Celebrity’ Boxing Association and now we’re letting people who f*cking sit on their ass all day begging for money in. Oh yes, I’m going to make sure she regrets stepping in that ring,” Danielle stated angrily.
A short while later, Pokimane stood at the center of the ring in Allegiant Stadium having already come down the challenger’s ramp. She was dressed head to toe in black boxing attire with her hair in a ponytail. She pranced around the ring getting a warm up in but little did she know she was about to be outnumbered by the Queens’ Arrow Three.
The lights swung over to the Queen’s ramp which was glowing in Queens Blue and Queens Purple haze when three figures appeared. Danielle Panabaker, still dressed in her chosen ring attire, was now flanked by Melissa Benoist in a blue top and red mini-skirt as well as Willa Holland in a red leather jacket and black pants. Melissa, of course, best known for her role as CW’s Supergirl and Willa Holland best known for her role as CW’s Thea ’Speedy’ Queen - both from the arrowverse and together with Danielle, made up the Queens’ Arrow Three.
As the Queens Arrow Three made their way down the ramp led by Danielle, in the VIP Suite with Amy Acker, a loud “what the hell are they doing” echoed from Amy. Anne replied, “it’s a message that streamers can’t compete.” Zooey smirked and added, “and yes, who better than heroines.” Amy a bit flustered she didn’t know this was happening yelled “unless they f*cking beat us at lightweight! We will be humiliated.”
“Even if they do win against Monica, our point will have been made, Melissa and Willa would have made sure of that” Anne stated sinisterly. Amy just sighed.
Back at the ring, the Queens Arrow Three reached the ring and Danielle climbed the ropes, sliding in. The stark contrast in height differences and athleticism could be seen immediately. Imane had a serious uphill battle if she hoped to even stand a chance against Danielle but upsets can and do happen.
Pokimane would offer a glove but Danielle wasn’t interested telling the ref all he needed to know as he called both girls over to go over the mandatory and then send them back to their corners. Danielle with ice in her eyes. Imane with newfound spirit of a beginner in the FCBA in her eyes. The ref raised his hand, and cut through the air to signal the bell.
Ten rounds of Bantamweight action and the opening to ‘Legends Never Die’ began with a ding and yellow pyrotechnics!
Round 01:
Right from the bell, Danielle Panabaker comes out swinging, her eyes locked on Pokimane with the ferocity of a lioness. She's a towering figure of strength, using her height advantage to keep Pokimane at bay. "You think you can touch me?" Danielle taunts, her voice dripping with disdain as she lands a solid jab to Pokimane's cheek, setting the tone for the round.
Pokimane, the underdog in this battle, attempts to weave and dodge, her feet shuffling across the mat in a desperate bid for survival. She throws a counter, aiming for Danielle's ribs, but it's like hitting a wall. Danielle just laughs, a sound that echoes menacingly through the stadium. "Is that all you've got?" she mocks, unfazed.
The onslaught continues, Danielle expertly maneuvering around Pokimane's defenses. She throws a vicious combination, a left hook followed by a right uppercut, each blow precise, powerful, sending shockwaves through Pokimane's frame. The crowd can almost feel the force of Danielle's punches, each one a testament to her superior skill and strength.
Pokimane's resolve begins to crack under the relentless barrage. Tears well in her eyes, not just from the pain of the physical assault but from the realization of her vulnerability. Danielle, sensing weakness, zeroes in, her attacks becoming more ferocious. "Cry me a river, will you?" Danielle sneers, her gloves a blur as they connect with Pokimane's body, leaving a trail of bruises.
Despite the onslaught, Pokimane tries to mount a defense, her gloves raised in a feeble attempt to protect herself. But it's no use; Danielle's reach and power are overwhelming. With each hit, Pokimane staggers, her resilience waning, as Danielle lands blow after punishing blow.
Danielle's dominance is undeniable, her technique flawless. She executes a devastating right hook, followed by a lightning-fast left jab, each punch landing with pinpoint accuracy. "Welcome to the FCBA!" she shouts, her voice filled with triumph as Pokimane reels from the attacks.
The round nears its end, and the disparity in skill and strength is clear. Danielle towers over Pokimane, a smirk on her lips as she delivers one final, crushing blow. Pokimane crumbles, barely saved by the bell, her body a map of defeat and pain.
As they return to their corners, Danielle's confidence is sky-high, her gaze still locked on her battered opponent. "Better quit while you can," she taunts, her voice carrying across the silent, shocked stadium. Pokimane, struggling to regain her composure, knows this is only the beginning. But round one belongs to Danielle, decisively and brutally.
Round 02:
Round two kicks off, and oh boy, Pokimane comes out like she's been shot out of a cannon. Gone is the shell-shocked fighter from round one; in her place is a whirlwind of fury and precision. "Who's the underdog now?" she seems to say with every lightning-fast jab.
Danielle, with all her raw strength and reach, looks like she's swinging at ghosts. Pokimane's speed is just insane. She's ducking, weaving, and oh, those shots to Danielle's abs are like she's hitting the jackpot over and over. It's like Danielle's mighty abs are suddenly Pokimane's favourite punching bag.
"You think you had me?" Pokimane taunts, now dancing around Danielle with the grace of a seasoned boxer. Danielle's punches, once feared, now find only air as Pokimane replies with vicious combos to the body, each hit a statement, each dodge a slap to Danielle's confidence.
The crowd's going nuts. It's as if Pokimane's flipped a switch, and now she's schooling Danielle on what speed can do against brute strength. "Eat my dust," her every move seems to scream, leaving Danielle's efforts to land a solid hit looking clumsy, even desperate.
By the end of the round, Danielle's invincible aura is shattered, her abs taking a toll, breathing heavy, as if wondering, "What the heck just hit me?" Meanwhile, Pokimane's corners are a symphony of cheers, her comeback painting a giant exclamation mark all over the ring. Danielle's smirk? History. Pokimane's message is clear - raw strength's got nothing on quick feet and a relentless rain of punches. Round two belongs to Pokimane, wide on points, in a comeback that's got the whole place shaking their heads in disbelief.
Round 03:
Round three explodes into action and Danielle Panabaker is out for blood, her eyes burning with a ferocious determination that spells trouble for Pokimane. "Think you had me figured out, huh?" Danielle sneers, closing the distance with the confident stride of a predator. It's clear from the get-go, Danielle's not playing by the same script; she's rewritten the whole darn playbook.
Pokimane tries to replicate her round two magic, but it's like Danielle's decoded her every move. "Not this time, sweetheart," Danielle taunts, sidestepping a jab with ease before launching a counter-assault that rattles Pokimane. This isn't just a fight; it's a chess match with fists, and Danielle's playing master-level.
Danielle's punches are relentless, each one landing with the kind of bone-crunching force that echoes through the stadium. She catches Pokimane with a brutal right to the nose, sending her opponent staggering back. "Oops, was that your face? My bad," Danielle mocks, a wicked smile on her lips as she watches Pokimane clutch her nose, eyes watering from the intense pain.
The canvas is merciless as Pokimane finds herself rocked off her feet, Danielle's onslaught a maelstrom of precision and power. It's like watching a storm surge against a cliff, each wave (or in this case, punch) eroding what was thought to be solid ground. Pokimane's resilience is admirable, but Danielle's fury is simply overwhelming.
Danielle corners Pokimane, her gloves a blur as they rain down upon her beleaguered opponent. "You thought you were quick? Watch this," Danielle spits out, dodging a desperate swing from Pokimane and countering with a vicious uppercut that nearly lifts her off the ground. The crowd is on its feet, the air electric with anticipation as Danielle continues to dominate.
Despite Pokimane's gutsy performance, the round draws to a close with Danielle clearly on top. She's managed to turn the tables, using Pokimane's overconfidence against her. "Better luck next time, maybe?" Danielle taunts, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she glares down at her opponent, the clear victor of this round. The judges nod in agreement, awarding Danielle the round close on points, but the message is clear: Danielle Panabaker is not to be underestimated.
Round 04:
Round four blasts off, and oh, it’s like the universe itself hit the reset button for Pokimane. Danielle, maybe getting a bit too cocky, thinks she’s got this in the bag; her guard’s lower than a limbo stick at a high school prom. Big mistake. Huge! Pokimane capitalizes like a boss, hammering Danielle with a frenzy of punches that’s got precision and power written all over them.
Danielle tries to shake off the surprise, but nah, she’s about as effective as a paper towel in a monsoon. Pokimane’s on her like white on rice, delivering blow after blow, and for a second there, you'd think she's trying to punch her way through to next week. Danielle’s face reads like a who’s who of “What just happened here?”, her earlier confidence gone faster than the last slice of pizza at a party.
“You sleeping on the job, or what?” Pokimane taunts, her every jab a punctuation mark in this sentence of domination. Danielle's attempt to regain her footing is about as graceful as a newborn giraffe, her earlier dominance a distant memory. Does she even remember how to block? Because right now, it seems she’s practicing for a “Get hit in the face” competition.
By the time the bell mercifully rings, ending the round, Danielle looks like she’s just been through a tutorial on why you never, ever underestimate your opponent, especially not Pokimane. The crowd's going wild, the energy electric, as Pokimane's corner erupts in cheers and high-fives, celebrating a round dominated so completely, you'd think Danielle was just there to make up the numbers.
Pokimane struts back to her corner, owning every inch of that ring. Meanwhile, Danielle’s got that thousand-yard stare, probably wondering how the tables turned so quickly. Round four’s in the bag for Pokimane, wide on points, and if Danielle doesn’t strap her gloves on tight and get her head back in the game, this match is going to slip through her fingers like sand.
Round 05:
Round five blasts off, and the tension's thicker than peanut butter. Danielle Panabaker, eyes blazing with a renewed fire, marches into the ring like she's ready to redefine the word 'comeback.' "Buckle up, 'cause you're about to take the scenic route to the canvas," Danielle sneers at Pokimane, that frosty glint in her eyes signaling a storm on the horizon.
The round starts and Danielle's aggression is a sight to behold; she's like a hurricane, all power and fury, leaving Pokimane scrambling for cover. "Thought you had me, didn't you?" Danielle taunts, her fists delivering a vocabulary of violence as she rewrites the narrative of this fight. Each punch she lands is a word, each combo a sentence, and she's crafting a story where she's the undisputed hero.
"You won't like me when I'm frosty," Danielle had warned, a promise delivered with a vicious twist of Pokimane’s arm that had the crowd gasping. The referee's eyes narrow, but before any call can be made, Danielle releases her grip, a wild smile playing on her lips. "Oops, did I do that?" she mocks, her tone dripping with venom.
Then, like an artist with brush to canvas, Danielle proceeds to dismantle Pokimane. Each move is calculated, a step in the dance of destruction she's choreographed in her mind. The crowd's on the edge of their seats, witnessing what can only be described as a masterclass in boxing. Pokimane tries to rally, but Danielle is relentless, her every strike a signature of intent.
As the minute hand ticks toward the three-minute mark, the atmosphere is electric, charged with the sense of an impending climax. "Ready for the grand finale?" Danielle sneers, as she corners a beleaguered Pokimane. With the precision of a surgeon and the power of a wrecking ball, she unleashes an uppercut that's nothing short of biblical. Pokimane is lifted clear off the canvas, a moment suspended in time, before gravity claims her and she crashes back down to earth.
The referee swoops in, the count begins, and the arena holds its breath. "Night, night, sweetheart," Danielle murmurs, a taunt for Pokimane's ears only, as the count reaches ten and seals the deal. It's over. Danielle Panabaker stands victorious, her fists raised, a warrior bathed in the glory of her conquest.
Pokimane's last stand faded into the echoes of Danielle's domination, the tale of this fight written in the bruises and sweat left in the ring. Danielle's comeback, punctuated by a knockdown for the ages, will be talked about for years to come, a testament to the heart of a champion who refused to be counted out.
Official Decision: Danielle Panabaker defeats Imane “Pokimane” Anys via KO 5!
AFTER:
And there it was, the moment of triumph, as Danielle Panabaker got her hand raised by the ref, beaming like she owned the place (and, frankly, after that display, who's gonna argue?). But it wasn't just a solo spectacle; oh no. Joining her in the ring, striding in like they're the last people you'd want to bump into in a dark alley, were the rest of the Queens Arrow Three: Melissa Benoist and Willa Holland. Their presence alone was enough to send the crowd into a frenzy, but the vibe? Oh, it shifted. You could tell they weren't there to just slap on some congratulatory back pats and call it a day. The triumvirate huddled close, their heads coming together in what could only be described as a sinister think-tank session. The glint in their eyes was not just the reflection of the spotlight—it was the foreboding shine of humiliation schemes being forged against a still-recovering Pokimane. They whispered and chuckled, their plans obscured by the roar of the crowd but crystal clear in intention. This wasn't just victory; this was the prelude to vengeance, a sinister celebration planned with all the tact of a cartoon villain. Poor Pokimane, still piecing her dignity back together, had no clue about the comedic yet cruel twist her night was about to take, courtesy of these three ring maestros.
Melissa, the embodiment of ruthless ambition, didn't waste a moment before showcasing her dark flair for drama. Grabbing Pokimane by the hair, she yanked the defeated woman up, her other hand maliciously twisting Pokimane's arm in an awkward, painful arch. The crowd's cheer morphed into a wild roar, a mix of shock and awe fueling their excitement over the unfolding spectacle of humiliation. "Thought you were the main event, huh?" Melissa sneered into Pokimane's ear, loud enough for the first few rows to catch every word, her breath hot against the side of Pokimane's face.
Dragging her hapless victim to her team's corner, Melissa unleased a barrage of vengeance. With each slam into the turnbuckle, she paired the physical assault with a verbal jab, turning the moment into a twisted performance. "This is for underestimating us!" she taunted with the first impact. "Not so high and mighty now!" she spat with the second. By the third, her voice was a crescendo of mockery, "Bet you're regretting stepping into this ring!" And with the fourth, as Pokimane's body sagged, Melissa delivered the coup de grâce, "Bow down to the real queens of the ring!"
The crowd was in a frenzy, divided between horror and excitement, their reactions fueling Melissa's cruel exhibition. She turned Pokimane's defeat into a spectacle, her taunts echoing in the sudden chilling silence that had fallen over the arena as everyone absorbed the brutal display of dominance. Melissa, reveling in her cruelty, flashed a victorious smirk, knowing she'd turned the ring into a stage for her vindictive theatrics.
Just when you thought the night couldn't get any more insane, Willa Holland steps it up to a whole new level of madness. Out she whips the body saddle - yeah, you heard that right, a freakin’ body saddle. It’s like something out of a wild, twisted fantasy, something the Queens of Absolution swore they’d never touch. But there it was, in all its dubious glory. Melissa, with that devilish gleam in her eye, didn’t hesitate to strap Pokimane in, turning a defeat into full-on spectacle.
The crowd? Oh, they lost their collective minds. Willa climbed atop Pokimane, who by this point was more a prop than a person, and squeezed her legs. The message was loud, clear, and utterly disgraceful. Pokimane, broken and humiliated, could barely manage half a lap around the ring before the point was hammered home. With a flourish, Willa dismounted, and Melissa, ever the queen of the moment, detached the saddle. The act was over, but the statement? That was forever. The point wasn't just made; it was branded into the night, a wild, shameless display of dominance that had the arena oscillating between horror and ecstasy.
Finally, Danielle grabbed Pokimane from behind, her toned arms wrapping around Pokimane's neck and squeezing with the fury of a hurricane. Pokimane struggled, her legs kicking wildly, as Danielle, with the strength of a beast, literally lifted her off the canvas not once, but several times. The audience was a cocktail of shock and awe, eyes wide, mouths agape, some cheering, some gasping, all mesmerized by the savage display. "What's the matter, can't handle a little pressure?" Danielle taunted, her voice dripping with disdain, echoing around the arena, punctuating each brutal lift. "Thought you were tough, huh? Looks like you're just a featherweight!" Pokeimane's attempts to free herself were futile, her face turning a shade of desperate pink, then a worrying shade of red. The fierce grip lasted, extending several seconds beyond what anyone could call reasonable, until Pokimane's struggles ceased, her body going limp in Danielle's unyielding arms. The moment she passed out, Danielle finally released her hold, allowing Pokimane's unconscious form to crumble to the center of the canvas, a defeated heap. The audience was left in a state of conflicted emotion, a mix of amazement at Danielle's overpowering presence and horror at the extent of her ruthlessness. "Looks like nighty-night for the internet's darling," Danielle sneered, stepping back to admire her handiwork, her insult hanging in the air as proof of her domination.
Finally, the medics were allowed to rush in, their presence a stark contrast to the chaos that had just unfolded. As they swarmed around Pokimane, the crowd's focus shifted to the departing trio, the infamous Queens Arrow Three. The air was electric, a chaotic blend of cheers, jeers, and pure, unadulterated shock as they strutted backstage like they owned the place. Melissa, Willa, and Danielle didn't just walk; they paraded, each step a statement of their untouchable status. The crowd, whether in disgust or admiration, couldn't help but fuel their ego, their cheers a twisted soundtrack to the merciless display they had just orchestrated. It was clear, in that moment, that these three weren't just boxers; they were legends in their own right, their names forever etched into the annals of Allegiant Stadium infamy.