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#Post#: 5819--------------------------------------------------
Fight 07 Kiernan Shipka vs Sabrina Carpenter
By: BadAssBunnies Date: December 22, 2025, 1:10 am
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Kiernan Shipka vs Sabrina Carpenter
HTML https://i.imgur.com/toSsRbD.png
Weigh-in
The room buzzes with tension as the two women step onto the
scale, a few feet apart. Neither says a word at first, just
locked in a deadly stare. The air feels heavy, charged, and
dangerous.
Sabrina leans forward slightly, her elbow brushing Kiernan’s
side. Kiernan flinches and spins, shoving Sabrina back with a
quick, sharp push. Sabrina’s hands snap up, grabbing a fistful
of Kiernan’s hair and yanking her head back. Kiernan reacts
instantly, slapping Sabrina violently across the cheek, the
smack echoing through the room.
It’s on. Security rushes in, but the two keep twisting and
shoving, hair pulling and slapping, little alley cats with claws
out. Sabrina hisses, “You think you’re tougher than me?” Kiernan
spits, “I’ll wipe that smug look off your slutty face!”
It takes four burly security guards to finally pry the petite
warriors apart, arms locked around shoulders and waists, each
struggling against the other’s furious resistance. Even then,
Sabrina’s fingers are still tangled in Kiernan’s hair, and
Kiernan keeps swinging her fists in frustration, her face red
with anger.
Once separated, both women are breathing hard, glaring daggers
at one another. Security hustles them to opposite ends of the
room, making sure they stay apart for the official weigh-in
photo. The crowd murmurs, the tension still palpable, as
everyone knows: this fight isn’t just competitive—it’s personal,
and it’s going to get brutal.
The Walkouts
The arena lights dim slightly as the walkout begins, the crowd
buzzing with anticipation. Sabrina steps out first, her black
trunks glinting under the lights, head held high. She points a
finger toward Kiernan’s corner with a smirk, daring her opponent
to make a move. “This is Kierman's nightmare,” she hisses over
the roar of the crowd.
Kiernan emerges seconds later, moving with feline precision, her
red trunks tight and athletic. She stops at the center of the
ring, lifting a single finger to Sabrina like a taunt, a
challenge. “You’re going down,” she snaps, eyes blazing with
intensity. Every step she takes is measured, her legs coiled
like springs, ready to strike.
The two women lock eyes, and the tension is palpable, the
finger-pointing turning into a silent battle of wills. The crowd
senses the hatred, the history, the personal score they’re about
to settle. Both fighters stop inches apart, Sabrina jabbing a
finger at Kiernan’s chest, Kiernan mirroring the motion, and for
a second it feels like the slightest movement could spark chaos
The announcers hype the tension, and the odds are displayed: the
oddsmakers see this as an incredibly close matchup, almost a
coin flip. Sabrina is slightly favored due to her power and
flurry, while Kiernan is noted for her speed, head movement, and
cardio that could turn late rounds into her advantage.
The referee signals them to the corners. Both women back off
slowly, still pointing, still glaring, as the crowd chants in
anticipation. This isn’t just a fight—it’s a grudge match that
will leave only one standing.
Official Odds
Kiernan Shipka: +1.95 (favorite)
Sabrina Carpenter: -2.40 (underdog)
Round 1
The bell rings and Sabrina Carpenter and Kiernan Shipka explode
out of their corners, both women looking tiny in the ring but
packing a ferocious energy that immediately has the crowd on its
feet. Sabrina opens with a rapid-fire jab combo, snapping her
hands like pistons, each shot aimed for Kiernan’s head and ribs.
Kiernan weaves expertly, bobbing and slipping low, returning
with crisp hooks to Sabrina’s midsection, forcing the bigger
girl to readjust her stance mid-strike.
Neither woman gives an inch. Sabrina feints to the left, then
lands a right cross to Kiernan’s temple that rocks her back on
her heels. Kiernan counters with a flurry of uppercuts, each
punch finding its mark under Sabrina’s guard, and the two
collide in the center of the ring, trading body shots and short
hooks like heavyweight fighters despite their petite frames.
Every punch lands with a sting; every block or parry is met with
a counter.
At one point, Sabrina throws a lunging right hand and Kiernan
sidesteps, slipping on the sweat-slick canvas and falling to her
knees. It’s quick, but some in the crowd gasp as it looks like
Sabrina clipped her on the side of the head. The ref waves it
off instantly, ruling it a slip, but the angle makes a few
spectators shout that maybe it should’ve been counted. Both
fighters barely acknowledge it, already circling, resetting,
ready to punish any opening.
By the round’s end, they’ve each landed punishing combinations,
testing each other’s endurance and defense. The petite warriors
are drenched, breathing hard, muscles screaming, but neither is
backing down.
Score: Sabrina 10 – Kiernan 9
Running Total: Sabrina 10 – Kiernan 9
Round 2
The second round starts slower, both women clearly feeling the
punishment from the opening flurry. Sabrina’s jabs are sharper,
but her body punches are starting to sting from the counters
she’s taken. Kiernan’s midsection is tender from Sabrina’s
hooks, but she’s digging deep, weaving low and landing precise
shots to Sabrina’s ribs and solar plexus. Every movement is
measured, but the tension is brutal; each punch seems to echo
through the ring.
Sabrina presses forward, hammering combinations to Kiernan’s
torso, forcing the smaller girl to shift her weight constantly
to avoid being pinned. Kiernan responds with a sneaky cross
followed by a quick uppercut, the punch snapping Sabrina’s head
back and drawing a sharp gasp from the crowd. Both are sweating,
their faces red, bellies tight, ribs sore, but neither is
slowing.
Halfway through the round, Sabrina throws a feint left, then
lands a hook to Kiernan’s side. Kiernan grimaces, absorbing the
shot, but counters with a short flurry to Sabrina’s body, making
her wince and step back. Each punch leaves marks: slight
swelling under the eyes, red lines forming across midsections,
both fighters breathing ragged but refusing to give any ground.
By the end, it’s impossible to tell who has the edge; every
exchange has been punishing, every move earned. They retreat to
their corners, shaking out arms and catching breath, knowing the
fight is just heating up.
Score: Sabrina 10 – Kiernan 10
Running Total: Sabrina 20 – Kiernan 19
Round 3
Kiernan walks out of her corner looking like she’s finally
solved the puzzle. Her footwork sharpens instantly—small pivots,
quick half-steps, angles Sabrina hasn’t seen yet. And within
seconds, she proves it: a stiff jab snaps Sabrina’s head back.
Then another. Kiernan has dialed in. Sabrina tries to crowd her,
refusing to back down, digging a harsh hook into Kiernan’s ribs.
But Kiernan’s response is colder, cleaner—she sinks a straight
right under Sabrina’s guard that forces the brunette to grunt
and brace her body. The tide shifts.
Kiernan gets braver. She moves in and out, touching Sabrina with
sharp, accurate strikes. Sabrina’s midsection begins to redden,
each shot making her wince a little deeper. She still fires
back—Sabrina is all grit—but the accuracy is now one-sided.
Midway through the round, Kiernan slips a big overhand from
Sabrina and cracks her with a counter left near the liver.
Sabrina freezes for a half-second, knees dipping. She clinches
immediately, clinging tight, and the crowd gasps at how close
she came to taking a knee.
The ref breaks them, and Kiernan hunts. She pushes Sabrina
backward, threading punches through the smallest openings.
Sabrina swings hard, desperate, and lands a few, but Kiernan’s
sharpness keeps her in control. Just before the bell, Kiernan
lands a clean uppercut that snaps Sabrina’s chin upward, forcing
her back a step. It’s the clearest moment of the round.
Score: Kiernan 10 – Sabrina 9
Running Total: Sabrina 29 – Kiernan 28
Round 4
Sabrina comes out aggressive, trying to steal back momentum
before Kiernan can get fully comfortable. Her flashes first—she
darts in behind a double jab and cracks a right hand off
Kiernan’s cheek. It’s the cleanest shot she’s landed since the
opening round, and it forces Kiernan backward.
Kiernan responds immediately. Her footwork and cardio give her
the edge in movement; she circles, resets, and fires a piston
jab straight into Sabrina’s swelling left eye. Sabrina’s face
twists—pain, surprise, frustration—then she squares up and
starts swinging harder. The round turns savage.
Sabrina uses her combos to push Kiernan into a neutral corner,
landing a nasty three-punch body sequence that makes Kiernan’s
elbows drop. Sabrina sees it and loads up a hook—but Kiernan
slips just enough and fires a brutal counter-cross that catches
Sabrina clean on the mouth. Sabrina stumbles.
It’s not a knockdown, but her legs give a little, knees bending
as she grabs at the ropes. The ref watches closely—too closely,
Kiernan argues with her eyes—but lets it continue. Kiernan
senses blood.
She digs into Sabrina’s midsection, her shots short and mean,
each one powered by her pressure and precision targeting.
Sabrina’s breathing gets sharp and uneven. Her body is reddening
badly, and every exhale sounds like a wince. Then it happens!
Kiernan drives a right hand into Sabrina’s ribs. A deep, sinking
shot. And Sabrina’s face crumples. She backs up fast, covering
her side with both arms, clearly hurt. Her legs are shaky, her
guard shattered, and she’s blinking through pain as Kiernan
rushes her—only saved by the bell. Sabrina limps back to her
corner, clutching her ribs, unable to stand fully upright.
Kiernan walks away stone-faced. She knows she hurt her. Bad.
Score: Kiernan 10 – Sabrina 9
Running Total: Sabrina 38 – Kiernan 38 (TIED)
Round 5
Both corners work frantically during the break. Kiernan’s team
tells her Sabrina’s hurt—“Finish the body!”—while Sabrina sits
hunched over, gasping, ice pressed to her ribs. But when the
bell rings, something hard and furious switches on inside her.
Sabrina comes out with her speed fully restored—light on her
toes, sharp, precise. Kiernan tries to start fast again,
throwing a stiff jab, but Sabrina slips under it and buries a
left hook to the body that lands with a meaty smack. The sound
alone makes the front row flinch. Kiernan’s breath catches.
Sabrina sees it—and goes after her like she’s owed blood.
She hammers the ribs, mixing combos and flurries forcing Kiernan
backward. Each punch clearly has intent: Sabrina wants to return
the pain from Round 4. She digs a right hand into Kiernan’s
solar plexus, then slams a left into the floating ribs.
Kiernan’s guard collapses inward, elbows tight, leaving her
chest exposed. Sabrina takes it. A straight right to the chest,
full power. Then another. Then another. Kiernan gasps, folding
slightly, face tightening with real discomfort.
But Kiernan refuses to back down. She tries to counter with a
short uppercut, but Sabrina smothers it, crowding in, bullying
with surprising pressure for someone her size. She pins Kiernan
against the ropes and unleashes a vicious three-punch sequence
to the belly—each one digging deep, each one leaving Kiernan
more winded than the last.
Kiernan finally clinches, desperate for air, trying to buy
seconds as her body aches. Sabrina doesn’t make it easy—she
keeps working the ribs inside the tie-up until the ref forces a
break. The last ten seconds are all Sabrina. All violence. All
body punishment. Kiernan winces with every breath as she returns
to her corner—her midsection now clearly damaged.
Sabrina stands tall, chest heaving, fire in her eyes. She’s
back. And she wants to break Kiernan down the same way Kiernan
did to her.
Score: Sabrina 10 – Kiernan 9
Running Total: Sabrina 48 – Kiernan 47
Round 6
Both fighters look worn when the sixth begins. Sabrina’s ribs
are swollen from Kiernan’s earlier body assault, and Kiernan
still feels every breath after Sabrina's vicious fifth-round
rally. They circle in tight, neither with the legs they started
the fight with.
Sabrina strikes first, stepping in with quick, confident shots
that snap Kiernan’s head back and reestablish her rhythm. Her
speed shows—sharp, fast, disruptive. Kiernan absorbs the early
work, then bites down and fires back with heavy hooks to the
body that drive Sabrina backward and knock the wind out of her.
The round becomes a grind. They trade in the pocket, chests
brushing, each woman grunting through painful rib shots and
sharp inside uppercuts. For a moment they explode
together—flurries from both, wild and relentless, each refusing
to give the other even one clean second. The crowd stands as
they hammer away, tiny powerhouses throwing with everything they
have left.
But as the minute winds down, Kiernan takes control. She steps
inside Sabrina’s jab, bulling her toward the ropes, digging
mean, patient body shots under Sabrina’s elbows. Sabrina’s arms
drop a breath too low, and Kiernan drives a brutal right hand
into her midsection, folding her forward. Sabrina immediately
clinches, gasping, holding on tight until the bell mercifully
rings.
Kiernan finishes the round the stronger fighter, leaving Sabrina
hunched, breathing hard, and needing a few extra seconds to
stand tall again.
Score: Kiernan 10 – Sabrina 9
Running Total: Sabrina 57 – Kiernan 57
Round 7
Both fighters come out breathing hard, bodies marked up, legs
heavy. The fight is dead even, and they both know it. Kiernan’s
pressure has been grinding Sabrina down, but Sabrina’s speed
keeps saving her at the right moments. Round 7 is where someone
has to break the tie.
They circle cautiously at first—too cautiously for Kiernan.
Frustrated, she steps in, trying to bully Sabrina back into the
ropes again. Sabrina slips to the side and snaps a quick jab to
Kiernan’s cheek, then another. Her rhythm is back, her feet
lighter than they’ve been since round three.
Kiernan snarls, lunges, and they tangle briefly in a messy
exchange. The ref steps in to separate them. That’s when it
happens. As soon as the ref signals them to resume, Sabrina
steps forward to reset—hands not fully up yet—and Kiernan fires
a sudden, sharp right hook over the top. It lands clean on
Sabrina’s jaw. Sabrina’s eyes go wide as her legs shoot out from
under her, dropping her hard onto her side.
The crowd erupts. Sabrina pounds the canvas once, furious,
shaking her head to clear it. She rises at seven, but she’s
shaky, blinking rapidly, trying to get her balance. Kiernan
charges in as soon as the ref waves them forward, ripping heavy
body shots that fold Sabrina over and force her backward into
the ropes. Sabrina clings on, tying Kiernan up, refusing to go
down again. Kiernan tries to work inside the clinch—short rib
shots, tight uppercuts—but Sabrina’s survival instincts kick in
just in time.
The bell finally ends the assault, leaving Sabrina glassy-eyed
and wobbling back to her corner while Kiernan stands tall, chest
heaving, knowing she landed the biggest moment of the fight so
far.
Score: Kiernan 10 – Sabrina 8
Running Total: Sabrina 65 – Kiernan 67
Round 8
After a stern scolding from Kylie Jenner. Sabrina explodes out
of her corner, legs finally solid, snapping her jab with
ruthless precision. Each connection rattles Kiernan, whose
punches have slowed, leaving her open. Sabrina punishes the
ribs, chest, and solar plexus with relentless combinations.
Kiernan’s eyes squint with every thudding body shot, her stance
collapsing under the punishment.
Sabrina steps in, delivering a sharp hook to the ribs, then
follows with a crushing straight to the midsection. Kiernan
gasps, arms dropping briefly as sweat and fatigue take their
toll. The jab keeps snapping back into Kiernan’s face, forcing
her to retreat, each step labored, each body blow more punishing
than the last. Sabrina dominates the tempo, her flurries
unrelenting, leaving Kiernan reeling, chest heaving, struggling
to protect her body.
The beatdown continues as Sabrina is no longer concerned with
any sort of defense. She steps in close, hammers the ribs and
chest then easily bounces away as errant counters from Kierman
are slapped away. Kierman is hurt bad and can't catch her breath
as she turtles up in a tight guard her elbows in tight to her
ribs and her gloves covering each side of her swollen face.
Sabrina picks her spots. Uppercuts snaking between her gloves,
hooks digging into exposed ribs.
The ref looks on concerned as he asks Kierman to fight back. The
bell finally sounds and saves Kierman as she needs help getting
to her stool.
Score: Sabrina 10 – Kiernan 8
Running Total: Sabrina 75 – Kiernan 75
Round 9
Kiernan barely climbs off her stool for Round 9, legs trembling,
arms heavy as she raises her gloves. Sabrina immediately senses
weakness, her eyes narrowing as she stalks her cornered
opponent. Kiernan manages to land a quick double jab, but it’s
more of a flash than a threat—Sabrina barely reacts before she
explodes, letting loose a ferocious barrage. Her flurry snaps
Kiernan’s head back, thudding into her ribs and chest with
punishing precision.
Sabrina steps in, driving hooks into Kiernan’s midsection and
uppercuts snapping her chin back. Kiernan sways, her legs
trembling under the weight of the punishment, gloves dropping
intermittently as each body shot steals more breath. A sharp jab
hits her temple, then a short hook to the ribs, each punch
landing with bone-jarring accuracy. Sweat and blood mix,
dripping from Kiernan’s brow as her corner yells for her to
survive, but she can barely respond.
Sabrina pivots, adding relentless crosses to the head and hooks
to the ribs. Kiernan’s eyes flutter as her head snaps back, her
body slumping against the ropes for support. Sabrina’s
combinations continue, thudding into Kiernan’s pert breasts and
solar plexus, leaving her gasping, staggering, and almost
unsteady on her feet. Every strike lands like a hammer, and it
becomes painfully clear that Kiernan cannot mount any meaningful
defense.
With just over a minute left, Sabrina digs a brutal right hook
to the solar plexus and holds it there for a few seconds her
glove disappearing into Kierman's battered belly. Kierman
doubles over, and then a hook to the forehead sends her
sprawling back onto the ropes. Her corner yells, desperation in
their voices, but Kiernan’s gloves barely rise. The referee
moves closer, and the corner makes the call—they throw in the
towel. Kiernan collapses back into the ropes forcing the referee
to grab her and keep her from falling to the concrete. Sabrina
puffs her chest and basks in the dominance of the round.
Sabrina Carpenter wins by Corner Stoppage at 2:01 of Round 9
Official Decision
The referee steps forward, holding Sabrina Carpenter’s hand high
as the arena roars in approval. Bruce Buffer steps forward Mic
in hand.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the fight has been stopped and your
winner by corner stoppage, Sabrina Carpenter!”
Sabrina’s chest heaves, sweat and bruises marking her
hard-fought victory, as she raises both fists to the cheering
crowd. Kiernan Shipka, exhausted, battered, and barely able to
stay on her stool, stares up at the raised hand with a mix of
frustration and disbelief. The corner has done all they can, and
the fight is officially over. Sabrina’s dominance from the later
rounds, her punishing combinations, and the relentless pressure
have earned her this decisive win, leaving no question as to the
outcome. The crowd continues to chant her name, celebrating the
victory earned through sheer skill, grit, and determination.
Post Fight Interview
Joe Rogan steps into the ring, mic in hand, approaching Sabrina
Carpenter, who is still catching her breath, sweat glistening on
her bruised face. She smiles and waves to hr fans.
“You think that ref let that fight go too long?” Joe asks,
raising an eyebrow.
“It’s not up to me!” Sabrina snaps, voice sharp. “Those stupid
refs don’t know ****. Kiernan could have been seriously hurt.
I’m just trying to fight. I did my job, landed my shots, but
they let it go longer than it should have. Listen, I could have
kept beating her but what fun is that? I broke her, Joe. I beat
her down until she couldn't take another punch!”
Joe nods, keeping calm. “Still, it was close for a while.
Kiernan had her moments too. How did you handle the rounds where
she was actually pressing you?”
Sabrina inhales sharply, eyes flashing. “Yeah, she had her
moments, no doubt. I give her credit where it’s due—she fought
her ass off. But she ran out of gas. I stayed disciplined,
followed the plan, and when the openings came, I took them.
That’s boxing. That’s what wins fights.”
Joe leans in, “Do you feel like that knockdown in Round 7 or the
way you kept the body shots coming late sealed it for you?”
“Absolutely,” Sabrina growls, fists clenching. “I knew once she
started gasping, once her guard dropped the fight was mine.
Every punch counted. Every combination mattered. That’s what
separates the fighters who finish from the ones who just
survive.”
Joe smiles, sensing the fire. “So no regrets, even with the
refs? You still feel like you dominated?”
“Not a single one,” Sabrina says firmly, eyes blazing. “I did
what I had to do. Kiernan pushed hard, but I proved I could
handle her, and that’s all that matters. It all came down to
cardio and who wanted it more. I think we know how that went.”
Sabrina exhales then raises her hands and starts celebrating.
Losers Locker Room
Erin Andrews waits outside the locker room, glancing at her
notes. Inside, Kiernan Shipka and her Stable Leader Danielle
Hauntachova are locked in a heated argument. Voices carry down
the hall. “You stopped it too early!” Kiernan snaps. Danielle’s
tone is firm. “You were exhausted. I did what I had to do to
protect you!” The back-and-forth continues for a full three
minutes, security hovering to make sure tempers don’t boil over.
Finally, the door opens, and Erin is allowed in.
Kiernan sits on the bench, still tense but slowly cooling down,
her face puffy and still shiny with sweat, Her ribs and arms are
showing heavy bruising. Erin steps in, closing the door behind
her.
“Are you okay?” Erin asks, her voice calm, professional.
“Do I look OK? Of course I am OK! I’m fine,” Kiernan says
tightly, “but I just wish my corner had let me fight. I still
had fight left in, me. Sabrina really doesn't hit very hard.
Sure she's fast as hell but power? Sabrina hits like a mosquito.
Sure it looked bad but I was still in the fight. All I wanted
was a shot to but her down!”
Erin nods. “So you felt the stoppage was premature, or was
Danielle protecting you?”
“They were protecting me, sure,” Kiernan admits, “but I could
have taken Sabrina a lot longer. I wasn’t done. My corner didn’t
give me the chance I wanted, and that frustrated me.”
“You were fighting hard through the middle rounds. What was
working for you?”
“My jabs, body shots, combinations—keeping her moving, muscle
her around,” Kiernan says. “I had openings in a few rounds. But
fatigue started to set in, and she capitalized on it. Still, I
wasn’t out. She would have punched herself out in the next round
then I was gong to put her away.”
“Round 8 and 9 were brutal. Sabrina’s jab landed
consistently—was that fatigue catching up after selling out in
round ?”
“Yeah, a little,” Kiernan admits. “Reflexes slowed, stamina
dropped, and she punished it. That little b!tch is fast and hard
to hit. But I was thinking, still looking for counters. I wasn’t
done.”
“And the argument with Danielle afterward?” Erin asks.
“It was about the towel,” Kiernan says. “I felt I had more fight
in me. A lot more fight left in me! We talked, she was wrong and
she apologized, but it left a sour taste in my mouth. Next time,
I’ll make my own calls.”
“Would you fight Sabrina again?” Erin asks.
“Absolutely,” Kiernan says firmly. “Next time, I finish what I
start. I won’t let fatigue or anyone else decide for me. If
Sabrina wants another go, she knows where to find me”
Joe nods but then turns his head to the side. “Isn't it up to
you? Sabrina has nothing more to prove.”
“We're far from done, Joe. This is only the beginning.”
Written by the Badass Barbies
#Post#: 5822--------------------------------------------------
Re: Fight 07 Kierman Shipka vs Sabrina Carpenter
By: BadAssBunnies Date: December 23, 2025, 3:45 pm
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Kiernan,
Funny how every fight only ends “too early” when you’re the one
sitting on the stool, gasping, while your corner is begging the
ref to save you from yourself.
I get it—when the jab keeps landing, the legs stop listening,
and the bell starts feeling like a fantasy, it’s comforting to
believe you were “just about to turn it around.” Fighters tell
themselves that all the time. Corners, on the other hand, tend
to live in reality.
The towel didn’t come out because I’m faster, stronger, tougher,
or just a better boxer. It came out because Round 10 was going
to look a lot worse than 8 and 9 and you might have needed a
quick trip to the ER.
Rest up, argue with your team, throw another tantrum and rewrite
the story in your mind —whatever helps. The Barbies will be over
here enjoying yet another W and the fact that our corner never
has to make that desperate embarassing call.
If we’re “Only Getting Started,” make sure next time you bring
cardio… not excuses.
I hope you heal up and that this doesn't ruin your Holidays.
Sabrina
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#Post#: 5824--------------------------------------------------
Re: Fight 07 Kierman Shipka vs Sabrina Carpenter
By: awesome aries Date: December 23, 2025, 5:16 pm
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Sabrina
its not over. Me and Daniela talked when we had cooler heads
and she apologized for throwing the towel. I looked over the
fight and maybe Daniela was right for throwing in the towel. I
am not one to cry over spilled milk. I will come back stronger
and in better shape next time. And since I am not crying over
spilled milk, enjoy your little win, There are still 3 or 4 more
fights to be settled. Lets see how your team responds against
our super talented stars still on the docket.
Kiernan
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#Post#: 5825--------------------------------------------------
Re: Fight 07 Kiernan Shipka vs Sabrina Carpenter
By: BadAssBunnies Date: December 24, 2025, 7:20 am
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Kiernan,
I’m relieved to hear you’re “okay” — and even more amused that
you think this is “not over.” Truth be told, I enjoyed those
final rounds immensely. Watching your pretty little face crack
was satisfying enough, but seeing those once-proud abs collapse
while you folded over, gasping for air? That was poetry. Nothing
quiets someone faster than taking their breath — and I took
yours.
You keep talking about ringers like that’s supposed to scare us.
Please. We’ve got plenty ourselves. Hilary Duff will handle
Amanda Seyfried without breaking a sweat and we will see what
Laura Marano has left after Dove Cameron broke her. Laura may
never recover.
As for her sister Vanessa — I almost feel bad. Almost. Sydney
Sweeney might be the most complete boxer the UCC has ever seen,
and Vanessa is walking straight into a nightmare. If this is the
hill your stable wants to die on, so be it.
The era of the Awesome Aries running the squared circle is over.
Everyone knows it. You just haven’t caught up yet.
See you soon.
Sabrina
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