Goldie sat in her room, crying into a pillow. Nick knocked lightly on the door and came in even though she didn't acknowledge him.
"Listen, there's somethin you need to understand," he said gently.
Being an eighteen year old girl she still had her emotions going wild but she was still justifiably upset at having her pussy exposed to everyone in the crowd not to mention the cell phone pictures.
"There's something you need to know about Rachael," he said. Goldie threw the pillow down on the bed and assumed an almost pouty stance, her arms folded over her breasts as she sat in her long nightshirt.
Nick produced a video tape from beneath his jacket. "Rachael has a long history from being in the National Womans Alliance, years ago." Goldie gasped, she knew about the biggest, syndicated womens wrestling federation but had no idea Rachael was apart of it.

Goldie, like the other girls, had an old tv with a built in VHS player so they can record their matches--being a low profit league they still used VCR's to record their matches on old cameras. The tape started with a much, much younger Rachael standing in the ring facing off against a native american girl. She had come to the ring with the feather in her hair and a beige one piece that matched her native looking skirt that she removed before the match. She was introduced as Princess Pocomoke, 5'9" 127 pounds. At the time Rachael was 19 years old, same as the injun, 5'8" 125 with a C cup that look bigger on her thin frame while the injun had a B.

The match was their third and from the bell they both came out slugging like heavyweight boxers, each grabbing a handful of hair and slamming fists repteadly into the others head. Rachael was the first to stagger as PP forced her opponent back into the corner than started hammering punches to Rachael's firm stomach. When Rachael began to counter, PP yanked down the white girl's headband--it was the 70s-- and began choking her with it. The match ultimately ended in DQ as she refused to let go and several officials had to tear the two apart.

"Why were they like that?" Goldie asked, no longer crying.
"Some people just rub others the wrong way, for some reason the princess never liked Rachael and this was the tame start of their feud."
When Goldie asked what he meant she fast forwarded the tape to March 1989. It had both the Pockomoke princess and Rachael locked together with a chain attach to collars around their necks. Nick explained that it was a dog collar match and their feud had gotten out of hand with multiple disqualifications. The refs got out of the way as the bell rang, both women, ran toghether and started pummeling each other again. The Princess was the first one to use a handful of the chain, smacking it across Rachael's head, to knock her almost out on her feet, falling to one knee. She wrapped the chain around her fist, pulled Rachael up by her hair and punched her square in the face with it, splitting her lip open and a cut across her cheek.

With a desperate tug, Rachael yanked the chain up between PP's open legs, the chain curled around the Indian girl's thigh and lifted her in the air as the chain smacked up against her crotch. Rachael crawled over as the princess held her burning puss. The white chick wrapped the chain around Pocomoke's neck and hung her out of the ring with the princess's boots dangling above the floor as spittle flew from her mouth.
The match was abruptly stopped as they tried to seperate the two, again.

Nick fast forwarded as Goldie sat there with a shocked look on her face. "Can matches get that bad?" she asked a little far off sound in her voice.
"They can be, thats what I think Rachael wanted you to figure out; this isn't a dance,' Nick shrugged.

The tape fast forwarded to a big steel cage match where both women had bloodied faces by the end as if they did a bobbing in ketchup contest. Goldie was openly aghast at the carnage they put themselves through. He fast forwarded to their final match, The Pier Six Brawl.

Rachael was in a black tank top and jeans while the Pocomoke Princess was in her standard beige one piece swimsuit. She jumps Rachael on the way up the aisle and both began swinging haymakers. Once again, the taller indian babe gets the upperhand, slamming Rachael headfirst into the steel guardrail. She suplexed her in the aisle, landing on the hard concrete; the move taking a lot out of both women who are slow to get to their feet.
Rachael got up just to see the princess swinging a steel chair at their head. She ducked just in time, the steel clangin against the concrete. The impact shook PP, leaving her wide open for a Rachael's famous spin kick finisher that laid out the indian princess. In a fit of fury, knowing that the chair shot was aimed in such a way that it would've ended her career, possibly crippling her, Rachael ran forward, grabbing the chair off the ground and, holding both ends in her hand, raised the chair up and used the backrest of the chair like the tip of a shovel, bringing it crashing down on Pocomoke's head. The princess's head jolted from the blow but she was still unmoving. She raised the chair again to swing but the crew of referees and backstage officials behind her pulled it out of her grasp. She turned and saw Pocomoke got up slowly, holding the open gash in the back of her head. As Rachael closed in she shot out her beige boot with the tassels and slammed the tip of her boot into Rachael's crotch.

The brunette stumbled back, holding herself while she mouthed the word "fuck." The Princess grabbed Rachael by her light brown hair and drug her back towards the ring, running her face first into the ring post. Rachael collapsed onto the mat around ringside as Pocomoke bent over to yank down Rachael's tank top, tearing off her bra straps in the process. The indian princess pushed the time keeper off his chair and picked up the steel seat, folding it up in her hands. She took two steps and brought the steel chair down across her opponent's bare breasts.
Rachael's screams could he heard over the crowd as if she were mic'd up, as Nick refers to it when the ladies cut promos. Pocomoke stomped her boot down across Rachael's face, causing the white lady to hold her aching jaw which still hurt from being smacked against the post. With her hands up, the princess wedged Rachael's exposed right breast between the back rest. She removed her foot from Rachael's face and stomped down on the chair, pancaking her breast between the steel. She screeched and rolled around on the floor as if she were on fire. Pocomoke pulled Rachael up by her hair and, reaching around her opponent's back she gave the white girl a double breast claw, tearing streaks of blood down her chest. After tears streak down her face from the pain, Rachael reaches over her shoulder and starts clawing at the princess's eyes. She digs her thumbnail directly into Pocomoke's right eye and had the indian woman squealing. She didn't let go and turned to grab Pocomoke by her long dark hair and hold her head steady as she dug in her sharp thumb nail, painted red like her normal swimsuit, and swirled it around as Pocomoke howled, trying weakly to pry her opponent's wrist out of her face. Finally with a sharp yank she dislodged the eye ball! Everyone in the arena groaned as the princess's eyeball hung down from the vein like the string from a paddle ball.
Pocomoke turned away, holding her face and cupping her eyeball tenderly. Rachael, seemingly uncaring that her breasts were exposed and still bleeding, bent over to pick up the steel chair and swung it like a baseball bat and cracked Pocomoke on the side of the head so hard she flew, limp as a ragdoll, over top of the railing onto the floor of the front row. She looked like she was dead and Goldie stared in horror as blood started to pool on the floor. Suddenly Rachael was swarmed on by security guards, backstage officials and nearly every referee.
Medics rushed out as the front row cleared back to make room for emergency personnel as Rachael thrashed like a woman posessed trying to break free and continue her assault on the unconscious indian.

Nick stopped the tape as Goldie was curled up on her bed in almost a fetal position, her eyes wide. She sat silent, mouth open in shock at the brutality she just witnessed. Finally it Nick broke the silence saying, "That's why she's so hard on you, Goldie." She looked at him questioninly, "So what happened...?"
Nick took a sigh, "Well the indian lost all vision in her eye and had brain damage from the chair shots with a cracked skull, brain bleeding so she's in an assisted living facility for the rest of her life."

Goldie's eyes bulged out even more. "And Rachael was fired but has permanent nerve damage in her boob from the chair stomping. She was fired and we were lucky enough to get her. Basically she wants you to be ready because this was an extreme example of what can happen in this business. You have to take it seriously in the ring because if you go up against the wrong person, sometimes it's not going to end up pretty."

Goldie sat silent and finally noddd, as if she understood.

"Don't worry, I won't put you in anything so dire so soon," Nick chuckled, trying to bring the atmosphere back up. In fact we're having a private show at the club Hardwire in Dover.

This made Goldie smile, "Am I gonna wrestle some strippers?" she said almost jokingly but Nick kinda grinned. At first Goldie looked put off but when Nick mentioned she'd be going up against an untrained stripper her face brightened.
"Hmm throwin around some big boobed bimbo sounds like fun," Goldie said with a wide grin, as she mimed honking a big set of hooters.

Nick told her to get some sleep and hit the gym early in the morning, the gig at Hardwire was going to be on a Wednesday night--to draw a crowd on a normally slow night--so she should look good because she'd probably end up wrestling topless.

"After having everyone see my pussy, I guess showing off my boobs won't be that big a deal," she laughed and Nick patted her on the back. She reached in and gave Nick a hug, saying thanks for making me feel better. Nick hesitated a moment and returned the hug with one arm, patting her gently like he would a sister.