URI:
   DIR Return Create A Forum - Home
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       UCC (UMMA) Managers Forum
  HTML https://umma.createaforum.com
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       *****************************************************
   DIR Return to: The Fights
       *****************************************************
       #Post#: 5882--------------------------------------------------
       Fight 01  McKenna Grace vs Giselle Eisenberg
   DIR By: BadAssBunnies
       Date: July 7, 2026, 3:40 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Match 1: McKenna Grace (Disney Princesses) vs. Giselle Eisenberg
       (Wannabees) MGM Grand Main Ballroom – July 4, 2026
  HTML https://i.imgur.com/oIKPNjr.png
       Walk-In:
       The ballroom erupted as the first fighters made their entrances.
       McKenna Grace, representing the Disney Princesses, strode out
       first in a sleek black sports bra and tight fight shorts,
       barefoot, her compact 5'0", 99-lb frame looking coiled and
       ready. The Princesses section roared while Wannabees fans booed
       and chanted insults about “washed-up Disney brats.” McKenna kept
       her eyes locked on the ring, jaw set.
       Giselle Eisenberg followed moments later to louder Wannabees
       cheers and Princesses jeers. At 5'3", 110 lbs, she looked rangy
       and aggressive in a red sports bra and shorts, her longer frame
       bouncing with nervous energy. She pointed at McKenna and mouthed
       “You’re mine, shorty” before climbing through the ropes. The two
       locked eyes across the ring with pure hatred—no handshakes, just
       venom. The stable rivalry was already boiling over.
       Referee Instructions:
       Celebrity referee Demi Moore stepped to center ring in a sharp
       black-and-white striped shirt, her commanding 80s/90s screen
       presence filling the space. She glared at both fighters.
       “Listen up. This is straight boxing under Nevada rules—no
       headbutts, no low blows, no rabbit punches. Clean breaks when I
       say break—step back and keep your hands up. I see any dirty sh!t
       and you’re getting warnings or points deducted fast. Protect
       yourselves at all times. Touch gloves if you want, but I doubt
       it. Let’s go to war.”
       The fighters barely tapped gloves before Demi stepped back and
       signaled the timekeeper. FIGHT!
       Round 1
       The bell rang and the hatred exploded. Giselle used her
       three-inch reach advantage immediately, snapping a stiff jab
       that snapped McKenna’s head back and followed with a sharp right
       cross to the body. “That’s how we do it in the real world,
       Princess!” Giselle snarled as she circled.
       McKenna slipped the next jab and exploded inside, digging a
       vicious left hook to Giselle’s ribs followed by a short right
       uppercut that landed flush on the chin. Giselle’s knees buckled
       for a split second. McKenna pressed: “Go down, b!tch!” The crowd
       roared as the smaller fighter worked the body with sharp hooks
       to the ribs and breasts while Giselle tried to tie her up.
       They clinched hard against the ropes. Giselle used the moment to
       land a sneaky short elbow to McKenna’s temple—Demi missed it but
       the Princesses corner screamed. McKenna fired back with a knee
       to the thigh on the break (warning from Demi: “Keep it clean
       little Princess!”). Giselle shoved her off and reset.
       Giselle regained control with her jab, pumping it into McKenna’s
       face and following with a hard right to the chest that made the
       smaller woman grunt. McKenna fired back with a blistering
       three-punch combination—jab, cross, left hook to the head—that
       forced Giselle to cover up. The two traded viciously in the
       center, McKenna’s compact power meeting Giselle’s longer
       leverage.
       With thirty seconds left, Giselle landed a heavy right cross
       that staggered McKenna into the ropes. She followed with a
       flurry, but McKenna clinched desperately. On the break Giselle
       landed another unseen short shot to the body. McKenna exploded
       out with a wild left hook that grazed Giselle’s jaw.
       The bell sounded on a furious exchange. Both fighters were
       breathing hard, eyes blazing with loathing. McKenna had landed
       the cleaner, harder shots in close; Giselle controlled the range
       and landed more volume.
       Scoring – Round 1 Giselle Eisenberg 10 – 9 McKenna Grace Slight
       edge to Giselle for ring generalship and effective jab work, but
       McKenna’s body attack and power in the clinch kept it
       razor-close. No knockdowns, but several heavy exchanges and one
       warning each for clinch work. The hatred is only getting hotter.
       Round 2
       The bell rang and the hatred ignited like gasoline. Giselle
       charged out of her corner, using her reach to flick stinging
       jabs into McKenna’s face, drawing first blood from a cut on the
       smaller fighter’s upper lip. “How’s that taste, Disney trash?”
       she snarled, circling with a cocky grin. McKenna wiped the blood
       and exploded forward, slipping under a right hand to bury a
       thunderous left hook into Giselle’s liver. The taller girl
       grunted and clinched, but McKenna mauled her in close—short,
       nasty uppercuts to the undersides of the breast and a blatant
       headbutt that Demi Moore missed in the tangle. “Break! Clean it
       up!” the ref barked, shoving them apart.
       Separated, Giselle fired back with a sharp right cross that
       snapped McKenna’s head sideways. She followed with a body
       assault, digging hooks to the ribs, lower abdomen, and ribs that
       made the Princesses fighter gasp. The crowd was on its
       feet—Princesses screaming for McKenna to back away and counter,
       Wannabees chanting “f$ck her up, Giselle! Knock her on her
       flabby ass!” McKenna answered with vicious inside work, ripping
       uppercuts to the body and a looping right that caught Giselle on
       the temple. Giselle staggered but fired a dirty low blow on the
       break that landed just below the belt line—McKenna doubled over
       for a second. Demi issued a stern warning: “Listen up Wannabee!
       One more and I take a point!”
       The fighters traded bombs in the center. McKenna’s compact power
       met Giselle’s leverage in a savage exchange—jab-cross-hook from
       McKenna, answered by a heavy overhand right from Giselle that
       wobbled the smaller girl back into the ropes. Giselle pounced,
       unloading a flurry while taunting, “You’re done, short stack! Go
       cry to your stable!” McKenna roared back with a desperation
       counter— a perfect left hook to the jaw that dropped Giselle to
       one knee for an official knockdown!
       Giselle beat the count at eight, eyes blazing with fury. The
       final thirty seconds were pure chaos: both women ignored
       defense, swinging wildly. Giselle landed a brutal body shot just
       above the belt that folded McKenna momentarily, but McKenna
       answered with a head-hunting combo that reopened the cut on
       Giselle’s cheek. They clinched again, throwing short, illegal
       shots in close—Giselle raking McKenna's breasts with a forearm,
       McKenna kneeing the thigh. Demi separated them twice more,
       yelling warnings as the bell finally sounded on an absolute war.
       Both fighters were marked up, breathing heavily, glaring death
       at each other across the ring. The stable hatred had turned the
       bout into a blood feud. McKenna’s power shots and the knockdown
       gave her the round despite Giselle’s early control and volume.
       Round 2 Scoring: McKenna Grace 10 – 8 Giselle Eisenberg
       (knockdown) Cumulative: McKenna 19 – 18 Giselle
       The arena was deafening. Demi Moore looked stern but impressed
       as corners rushed in with ice and advice. The rivalry was
       delivering everything promised. Ready for Round 3?
       Round 3
       Both fighters rose on shaky legs, bodies already battered from
       the war—McKenna’s lip swollen and ribs aching, Giselle’s jaw
       tender and cheek cut. Yet the stable hatred burned hotter than
       the pain. They were all in, no retreat.
       The bell rang. Giselle lunged first shoving McKenna back then
       throwing out the jab, her longer reach whipping leather that
       splattered blood from McKenna’s cut. “You’re breaking,
       pint-sized princess c@nt!” she taunted through gritted teeth.
       McKenna absorbed it and dove inside, ripping vicious hooks to
       the body that folded Giselle against the ropes. The smaller
       fighter mauled her in the clinch—short, nasty uppercuts mixed
       with a hidden elbow to the left  breast that Demi missed.
       Giselle fired back with a foot stomp on the break (warning from
       the ref) and shoved McKenna off.
       They traded in the pocket like street fighters. Giselle’s power
       shots landed heavy on McKenna’s head, rocking her backward, but
       McKenna answered with a liver shot that made Giselle’s legs
       buckle. “That’s for every catfight you Wannaloser's started!”
       McKenna growled. Giselle clinched desperately, whispering venom
       in McKenna’s ear before Demi separated them.
       Mid-round, Giselle found her rhythm again, circling and pumping
       the jab while landing a stinging right cross that opened a new
       cut on McKenna’s lip. Blood and sweat flew with every punch.
       McKenna refused to back down, charging through the fire to
       unload a blistering combination—jab, cross, hook—that staggered
       Giselle into the corner. The crowd roared as McKenna poured on
       the pressure her chin resting on Giselle's shoulder while her
       shoulder dug deep in her chest keeping her pinned tight in the
       corner. McKenna leaned in as the ref let her maul the Giselle
       despite protests from the Wannabee corner. McKenna unloaded
       body-head-body, while Giselle covered up and countered with
       short sharp body punches in close.
       Both women were hurting badly—breathing ragged, legs heavy—but
       the hatred kept them swinging. Giselle landed a desperation
       overhand right that wobbled McKenna, taunting “Go down, you
       little sh!t!” McKenna roared back with a headbutt on the inside
       (another warning) and a wide open hook navel that nearly dropped
       Giselle again.
       The final seconds were pure exhaustion-fueled fury: wild
       haymakers, clinches turned into shoving matches, and taunts
       laced with blood and spit. Demi had to jump in twice to pry them
       apart and pull McKenna off as she refused to let go of Giselle's
       top.
       The bell saved them from mutual destruction. Both slumped onto
       their stools, marked up, chests heaving, eyes locked in pure
       loathing across the ring.
       Round 3 Scoring: McKenna Grace 10 – 9 Giselle Eisenberg
       Cumulative: McKenna 29 – 27 Giselle
       The Princesses section erupted while Wannabees fans screamed for
       justice. Corners worked frantically. The war was far from over.
       Round 4
       The bell clanged like a death knell. Both warriors were visibly
       hurting—McKenna’s face a bloody mask with a swollen eye and
       split lip, Giselle’s ribs bruised and cheek gashed—but the
       stable hatred refused to let them slow down. They met in the
       center like gladiators, eyes blazing with pure venom.
       Giselle opened aggressively, her longer reach snapping jabs that
       smeared more blood across McKenna’s face. “You’re done, you
       pathetic Disney doll!” she roared, following with a heavy right
       to the body that folded McKenna momentarily. The Wannabees crowd
       exploded. McKenna fired back instantly, slipping inside to
       unload a savage barrage of hooks to the ribs and a vicious
       uppercut that snapped Giselle’s head back. “F$ck you and your
       Wannabee trash!” McKenna snarled through bloodied teeth.
       The action turned chaotic. They traded bombs in the
       pocket—Giselle’s power shots rocking McKenna against the ropes,
       McKenna answering with compact, piston-like combinations that
       made Giselle’s legs quiver. In a nasty clinch, Giselle landed a
       blatant low blow that dropped McKenna to one knee. Demi Moore
       jumped in immediately: “Warning! Point deduction if it happens
       again!” McKenna rose and glared at Giselle, fury in her eyes,
       and charged. She unloaded on the taller girl, a left hook to the
       jaw followed by a right cross that sent Giselle stumbling
       backward into the corner.
       The Princesses faithful went wild. McKenna swarmed, digging
       brutal body shots while taunting, “How’s that feel, you mouthy
       twat?” Giselle covered up, then exploded out with a desperation
       flurry—a looping right that caught McKenna flush and a sneaky
       knee to the hip on the break that went unseen. Demi warned again
       as the fighters mauled each other in another clinch, short
       punches to the breasts and shoves flying.
       With thirty seconds left, Giselle found a second wind. She
       circled and unleashed a picture-perfect one-two that staggered
       McKenna, followed by a crushing left hook to the temple that
       dropped the smaller fighter hard to the canvas! McKenna beat the
       count at nine, but she was badly hurt. Giselle pounced for the
       finish, landing heavy shots while screaming “Stay the ****
       down!” McKenna survived by clinching desperately until the bell.
       Both collapsed onto their stools, gasping, bloodied, and
       exhausted—but the fire in their eyes promised more violence.
       Round 4 Scoring: Giselle Eisenberg 10 – 8 McKenna Grace
       (knockdown) Cumulative: McKenna 37 – 37 Giselle (tied!)
       The arena was electric. Corners scrambled. The rivalry had
       delivered a classic
       Round 5
       The bell rang for Round 5 and the exhausted warriors rose like
       wounded animals driven by pure hatred. Both were
       wrecked—McKenna’s face a swollen, bloody ruin with her left eye
       nearly shut; Giselle’s ribs throbbing and legs heavy from the
       accumulated body punishment—but neither would yield. The stable
       war had turned this into something primal.
       Giselle came out swinging, her longer reach whipping jabs that
       reopened cuts on McKenna’s face. “You’re finished, you tiny
       f$cking princess!” she spat, landing a sharp right cross that
       staggered the smaller fighter. McKenna absorbed it, roared “Eat
       sh!t*, you loudmouth Wannabee!” and dove inside, ripping vicious
       hooks to the body that made Giselle gasp and clinch desperately.
       In the tangle, Giselle landed a sneaky elbow to the temple while
       McKenna fired short, dirty uppercuts below the belt line—both
       unseen by a tired Demi Moore, who still barked “Break! Clean!”
       and shoved them apart.
       Separated, they went to war in the center. Giselle used her
       reach to control distance, snapping jabs and heavy body shots
       that folded McKenna against the ropes. The Wannabees section
       erupted. McKenna countered with fury, slipping a jab and
       unloading a blistering combination—jab, cross, left hook to the
       jaw—that wobbled Giselle badly. “How’s that feel?!” McKenna
       screamed as she poured on pressure, mauling her taller opponent
       in close with short, nasty punches to Giselle's sore breasts
       then another knee to the thigh.
       The round became a bloody slugfest. Giselle rallied with a
       desperation flurry, landing a crushing overhand right that
       dropped McKenna to her knees for the second time. McKenna beat
       the count at eight, blood pouring, but rose swinging. They
       traded wildly in the pocket—hooks, uppercuts, and taunts flying
       through blood and spit. “You’re nothing!” Giselle yelled after a
       body shot. McKenna answered with a headbutt on the break and a
       thunderous left hook that nearly dropped Giselle again.
       Fatigue was winning. Both women’s punches slowed but carried
       hate-filled power. In the final seconds they clinched against
       the ropes, throwing short, illegal shots and whispering venom
       until Demi pried them apart. The bell sounded on an absolute
       masterpiece of violence.
       Round 5 Scoring: Giselle Eisenberg 10 – 8 McKenna Grace
       (knockdown) Cumulative: Giselle 48 – 46 McKenna
       The arena shook with noise. Both corners worked frantically on
       swelling and cuts. The fighters glared across the ring, chests
       heaving, bloodied and broken but unbroken in spirit. The rivalry
       was delivering pure epic.
       Pre-Round 6 – Corner Scenes
       In the Wannabees corner, the cutman worked frantically on
       Giselle’s gashed cheek while her trainer barked, “She’s done,
       Giselle! McKenna’s f$cking finished—look at her eye! Knock her
       ass out this round! Those princesses probably paid the judges
       anyway. End this **** with your fists!”
       Giselle, breathing hard but eyes blazing with fury, smacked her
       gloves together viciously. “She’s going down,” she growled,
       nodding with murderous intent.
       Across the ring in the Disney Princesses corner, McKenna slumped
       on her stool, face a bloody, swollen mess, breasts screaming
       with every breath. Her trainer gripped her shoulders urgently.
       “You’re losing, McKenna! You hear me? You’re losing! You need a
       knockout now—go for the kill! Knock her out! You need to knock
       her the b!tch out! You hear me?!”
       McKenna nodded weakly, pain etched across her battered features,
       but her swollen eye and labored breathing told the real story.
       She was hurting bad—badly. The hatred alone was keeping her
       upright.
       The bell rang for Round 6. The war continued.
       Round 6
       The bell for Round 6 sounded like a gunshot. Both fighters
       dragged themselves off their stools, faces masks of blood and
       swelling. McKenna’s left eye was completely shut, her lip split
       wide open. Giselle’s cheek gushed and her ribs and breasts were
       purple. Neither could breathe through their noses. The hatred
       was the only thing keeping them upright.
       Giselle came out throwing bombs, her longer reach letting her
       land a crushing right hand that snapped McKenna’s head violently
       to the side. Blood sprayed across the canvas. “You’re finished,
       you paid-off b!tch!” Giselle roared, following with a left hook
       to the body that folded McKenna into the ropes. The Wannabees
       corner screamed for the finish. “That's it Giselle, knock her
       prissy ass out!”
       McKenna, barely able to see, fought on pure instinct and rage.
       She clinched desperately, then exploded out with a savage
       uppercut that caught Giselle under the chin and sent her
       stumbling backward. “**** you!” McKenna spat through blood. They
       traded in the center like two wounded animals—huge, looping
       hooks landing with sickening thuds. Giselle’s overhand right
       opened another cut above McKenna’s good eye. McKenna answered
       with a left hook to the liver that made Giselle’s knees buckle.
       The round turned into a bloody war of attrition. Clinches turned
       into mauling sessions—short punches, forearms, and unseen shots.
       Demi Moore was screaming warnings but the fighters ignored her.
       Giselle landed a brutal right that dropped McKenna to a knee.
       The smaller fighter rose at eight, eyes glassy but burning with
       defiance.
       With thirty seconds left, McKenna dug into reserves no one
       thought she had left. She slipped a jab and unloaded everything
       she had left—a perfect, desperate left hook that crashed flush
       into Giselle’s jaw with a crack that echoed through the
       ballroom. Giselle’s eyes rolled back. She dropped straight to
       the canvas like her strings had been cut, landing hard on her
       back, completely out cold.
       The referee didn’t even bother with a count. The fight was over.
       And McKenna came back from the brink of defeat landing an
       unlikely KO hook.
       McKenna staggered back against the ropes, blood pouring down her
       face, chest heaving, as the arena exploded in shock. The Disney
       Princesses corner swarmed the ring while the Wannabees stood in
       stunned silence.
       Round 6  Final Score: McKenna Grace wins by 6th-round knockout
       at 2:01
       An absolute war. McKenna, battered and behind on the cards,
       delivered one of the most shocking and memorable knockouts in
       the young fighters history. The stable rivalry just got even
       more vicious.
       McKenna was still on wobbly legs but walked straight over to the
       Wannabee corner. “Where's that little sh!t, Coco. Show your ass
       b!tch! Show your ass!”
       McKenna's corner quickly corralled their fighter and sat her
       down on her stool and cleaned her up while Giselle started to
       stir.
       Post-Fight Humiliation – Match 1
       The arena was still roaring from McKenna Grace’s shocking
       knockout punch when chaos erupted. Giselle Eisenberg lay flat on
       her back, out cold. McKenna, face a grotesque mess of blood,
       swelling, and a nearly shut eye walked over and stood over her
       rival, chest heaving. She raised one arm in victory blood
       dripping from her split lip. McKenna lifter fer foot and placed
       it roughly on Giselle's chest striking a victory pose.
       The Wannabees corner men spilled into the ring, shoving McKenna
       hard in the back as she posed. “Get the f#ck off her!” one
       yelled. Security rushed in as McKenna spun, adrenaline masking
       the pain. “She’s done! I took everything that mouthy little c&nt
       had and dropped her with the best punch of the fight!” she
       shouted, voice raw. “See that! Did you see that! I dropped that
       **** and she's still not getting up!”
       Giselle cleared her head and after another minute, sat up
       groggily as the smelling salts hit her. Her eyes were glassy,
       more humiliated than physically broken. In the Princesses
       corner, they wiped blood from McKenna’s face and stopped the
       worst bleeding while she kept running her mouth. “Come on, let's
       see if you can get up, f#cking Wannaloser! I took your best
       shots and I got up, what about you Wannaloser?”
       Giselle’s corner surrounded her on the stool. “You had her,
       Giselle! You f$cking had her! One lucky punch, that’s all. She
       got lucky!”
       McKenna, still buzzing on pure adrenaline despite barely being
       able to see, strutted over. “On your knees, b!tch!”
       Giselle glared up, jaw clenched. “f$ck off, you lucky b!tch! I’m
       not doing sh!t. You were beat! Dead on your f$cking feet! And
       you got lucky. You know it and so does everyone in the crowd.”
       Officials stepped in, reminding both fighters of the pre-agreed
       rules. Giselle had no choice as the crowd was growing restless.
       McKenna yanked Giselle’s sports bra top off, exposing her perky
       but swollen breasts to the roaring crowd. She slapped them hard
       a few times, the sharp smacks echoing as Giselle winced. Then
       McKenna dropped to a knee, bent the defeated Wannabee over the
       other, and roughly pulled Giselle’s shorts and panties down to
       her knees.
       The crowd counted loudly with every spank.
       SMACK! One. McKenna’s open palm landed perfectly on the firm,
       round ass. SMACK! Two. Giselle’s cheeks jiggled. McKenna was a
       pro—hard, loud, rhythmic spanks that turned the young skin
       bright pink, then deep red. By the 10th, Giselle was squirming.
       By the 20th, tears streamed down her cheeks—some from the
       burning pain, most from the soul-crushing humiliation of her
       hated rival spanking her bare ass in front of a packed,
       deafening arena.
       McKenna savored the final five. She rubbed her palm slowly over
       the glowing red cheeks. “Oh my, you feel that heat, Wannaloser?
       Your poor little ass is on fire!” She gave a mocking comforting
       rub cupping her hands and tracing the outlines of Giselle's
       bright red cheeks. McKenna reared back and delivered the hardest
       spank yet. Giselle let out a muffled scream, body involuntarily
       jerking.
       Two quick, vicious shots in the same spot made Giselle choke
       back a sob. “Did that hurt?” McKenna taunted. Giselle managed a
       weak “f$ck you” through clenched teeth. “Bring it on, princess.”
       McKenna drew out the very last one painfully—light taps with her
       fingers each one pressing lightly of the flaming red muscles.
       McKenna teased mocking wind-ups, making Giselle's butt clench.
       “Just f$cking get it over with then I'm following you to your
       locker room and kicking your ass!”
       SMACK! The final open-handed shot was the loudest, most powerful
       of all, echoing through the ballroom. This one not only stung
       but sent a surging pain through Giselle’s thighs and lower back.
       Her ass was a blazing, cherry-red masterpiece as McKenna looked
       at the screaming crowd and for the first time in an hour smiled
       through her busted lips.
       McKenna violently shoved her off her knee, sending Giselle
       rolling humiliated into the center of the ring. McKenna stood
       tall, placed her foot on Giselle's chest raised both hands in
       triumph as the crowd wend wild. McKenna pressed her foot down
       and twirled Giselle’s top above her head like a trophy then she
       strutted toward the locker room telling Giselle that if she
       wants more she knows where to find her.
       Disney Princesses 1 – Wannabees 0
       
       
       *****************************************************
       Page 1 of 1