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#Post#: 5890--------------------------------------------------
Event Finals - Dove Cameron vs Jayden Bartels
DIR By: BadAssBunnies
Date: July 30, 2026, 4:43 pm
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Bonus Match – Winner Take All – Dove Cameron vs Jayden Bartels
HTML https://i.imgur.com/8O6cMzJ.png
The Locker Rooms:
The MGM Grand backstage was pure chaos. The scoreboard still
read 3-3. The Ava Kolker and Coco Quinn had used every dirty
trick in the book and in the end the final match ended up in a
disqualification. It was up to the stable leaders to settle
everything themselves.
In the Disney Princesses locker room the air felt heavy. Dove
Cameron sat on the edge of the bench while her trainers wrapped
her hands in silence. The 5'2" former UCC Featherweight Champion
stared at the floor, jaw tight. She had been here before —
championship nights, title defenses, must-win fights, the weight
of an entire stable on her shoulders. Tonight was no different,
only louder. Voices from the hallway carried the crowd’s roar.
Someone banged on the door and shouted that the Wannabees were
already hyping their girl. Dove didn’t even look up.
“You’ve done this too many times to count,” Kylie Jenner said.
“You know how to pace yourself, how to counter and how to close.
Jayden has the reach but that's it. Go end her night.”
Dove finally spoke, voice low and flat. “She’s young. She’s
hungry. She thinks this is her night.” She flexed her newly
thickened arms, the product of months of heavy strength work.
“I’m not giving that mouthy little b!tch the story she wants.”
Across the hall the Wannabees locker room was louder and
angrier. Jayden Bartels paced like a caged animal, shadowboxing
in the corner while her team shouted over each other. At 5'7"
she looked long and coiled, gloves already on, eyes locked on
nothing. Her stable needed this win more than the other side.
Everyone in the room felt it. The rookies had fought to a draw
against the more experienced stable. The big dogs were here. If
she lost, the Wannabees stayed second-tier. If she won, they
belonged.
“You’ve got the reach, the speed, the legs,” Darci Lynn Farmer
barked. “She’s the big plastic Princess who thinks she better
than you just because of Disney. Make her feel old. Make her
feel every minute of all of her fights.”
Jayden slammed her gloves together hard enough to echo. “I’m not
here to be respectable. I’m here to take it from the
creampuffs.” She turned to the mirror, studying the reflection
of a fit and toned twenty-one-year-old who had never stood in a
moment this big. The nerves were there, but so was the mean
streak. She needed this more. That was the only truth that
mattered.
Both rooms felt the same pressure from opposite directions. One
fighter carried the burden of being the proven champion. The
other carried the desperate need to prove she belonged. Neither
was walking out with anything left in reserve.
The Walk-Outs:
The arena lights dropped. The first notes of Dove’s entrance
music hit and the Princesses section exploded. Dove stepped
through the curtain with her hood up, face blank, trainers tight
around her. She moved with the calm of someone who had done this
too many times to waste energy on theatrics. The crowd noise
washed over her. She kept her eyes forward, gloves resting
against her thighs, the slight bulk in her shoulders and arms
visible even under the robe. Every step said the same thing:
I’ve been here. I’ve closed these nights before especially
against losers like Jayden.
Halfway down the aisle she finally looked up at the ring and the
waiting Wannabees corner. No smile. No wave. Just the flat stare
of a fighter who expected to leave with the win because that was
what she did.
Jayden’s music hit harder and nastier. The Wannabees section
answered with a wall of noise but she was nowhere to be found.
The music cycled through two time as Dove paced in the ring
growing more furious by the second. Finally Jayden came out
bouncing, hood off, face already set in a snarl. She pointed at
the ring, then at herself, then at the Princesses section like
she was already claiming the night. Her long frame moved with
the loose, athletic confidence of someone who believed the
physical edges were hers. The hunger was obvious. After a few
steps she bolted to the ring with the speed of a sprinted
leaving her trainers in the dust. When she got to the ring she
dove forward, slipped under the bottom rope and shoulder rolled
her way into the center of the ring. The audience ate it up as
the moved was meant to show that she was young, fast, agile and
most of all dangerous.
Jayden leaned towards Dove getting close enough to make sure
Dove felt her presence. No words. Just the mutual understanding
that the next six rounds would be ugly.
Final Instructions:
Dove stepped forward rolling her shoulders, her bare feet
testing the canvas. Her corner stayed close, one last reminder
in her ear about distance and not letting the taller girl
control the outside. Dove nodded once, eyes already locked on
the opposite corner.
Jayden stepped up like she owned the place. Gone were any signs
of nerves as the young Wannabee exuded confidence. She bounced
hard on the canvas enough to make Dove move up and down. She
smacked her gloves making a loud echoing boom while staring
across the ring without blinking. Her corner men shouted final
instructions about using the jab, keeping the fight long, and
making Dove pay for every attempt to close. Jayden barely seemed
to hear them. She was already gone into the private place
fighters go when the only thing left is violence.
Referee Carmen Electra would officiate the match. She stood
between them in the center. Extra security still lined the ring
apron after the earlier chaos of the night. The two women met in
the middle, almost chest to chest despite the height difference.
Dove looked up. Jayden looked down. Neither blinked.
Carmen’s voice was firm and clear over the noise.
“All right, listen up. I want a clean fight. If you continue the
same bullsh!t as the last fight, I'm calling it and this event
will remain a tie! Understood!” Carmen waited until they nodded
then continued. “Protect yourselves at all times. Obey my
commands. When I say break, you break. No low blows, no elbows,
no holding and hitting, and for f$ck sakes no eye pokes! You
already know the history between these two teams. Do not make me
work harder than I have to. Touch gloves if you want — or don’t.
I don’t care. Just be ready when the bell rings.”
They touched gloves with the bare minimum of contact, more of a
formality than respect. Dove’s eyes stayed flat. Jayden’s
carried open challenge. Both turned back to their corners
without another word.
The Calm Before the Storm:
The seconds felt longer than they should have. Dove stood in her
corner over anxious after being in the ring for over 10 minutes.
She bounced lightly now, the calm now back on her face but the
tension visible in the way her gloves kept tightening. Her
corner man put in the mouthpiece. She bit down and nodded.
Across the ring Jayden was still moving, still feeding off the
noise, still carrying the knowledge that her stable’s night —
and maybe its reputation — sat on her shoulders.
The lights seemed brighter. The crowd noise rose into one
continuous roar. Carmen Electra checked both corners one last
time, then raised her hand.
Dove stepped forward to the center of her half. Jayden did the
same. They stared across the few feet of canvas that separated
them, two stable leaders who had been forced into the same fight
by a night that refused to end cleanly.
The referee dropped her arm. The bell rang.
Round 1:
Jayden Bartels came out fast, using every inch of her 5'7"
frame. She snapped a long jab that caught Dove Cameron on the
forehead before the shorter Princess could settle. Another jab
followed, then a third. Jayden’s reach was real and she intended
to make Dove feel every bit of it. She circled to her left, feet
light from years of dance, and fired a straight right that
forced Dove to slip outside. The crowd roared at the early
aggression. Jayden was here to fight.
Dove did not panic. She had been in too many of these moments to
waste energy on the first thirty seconds. She slipped another
jab, stepped in hard, and dug a left hook to Jayden’s body
landing with a thud right below the ribs. Jayden’s eyes
narrowed. Dove followed with a short right hand upstairs that
clipped the taller girl’s cheek. The message was immediate: the
champion was not going to stay on the outside and get picked
apart.
Jayden answered by doubling the jab and then stepping in with a
hard right cross that snapped Dove’s head back. The height and
leverage were obvious. Dove was giving up five inches and
significant reach and it was immediately apparent as Jayden,
light on her feet kept the double jab in Dove's face. Jayden
pressed forward, mixing sharp punches with the kind of movement
that made her hard to pin down. She was faster in the early
going, and the Wannabees section fed off every clean connection.
Dove changed levels. She feinted high, dropped her weight, and
ripped another heavy left hook into Jayden’s ribs. This one
landed with a different sound. Jayden’s lips parted for a split
second. Dove stayed in the pocket and threw a right uppercut
that caught Jayden on the way up. The taller fighter’s legs
stiffened. Dove smelled the first real opening of the night and
poured in three more punches — two to the body, one upstairs —
before Jayden clinched and held on.
Carmen Electra broke them. Jayden bounced back, trying to reset
the distance, but Dove was already walking her down. The
experience difference showed in the smaller details. Dove cut
the ring off with short, efficient steps. She did not chase
wildly. She forced Jayden toward the ropes and made her work to
get out. When Jayden tried to spin off the ropes, Dove met her
with a stiff jab of her own and then a right hand that landed
flush on the temple.
Jayden’s legs dipped again. It was not dramatic, but it was
real. Dove stepped in and threw a left-right combination that
forced Jayden to cover up. The Disney Princess power was evident
in the way the punches landed with heavier impact than her size
suggested. Jayden answered with a sharp uppercut from the clinch
that opened a small cut on Dove’s cheek, then shoved her off and
circled again. A cheer rose from the crowd. The cut was minor,
but those who laid money on first blood were already up.
The middle of the round became a battle of wills. Jayden used
her length and speed to keep the fight on the outside whenever
she could, snapping jabs and moving laterally. Dove kept closing
the gap, left foot forward, swivel the hip, then use her
shoulder to cut Jayden off. Dove was accepting a few clean shots
in order to get inside where her power and experience could
matter more. Every time Dove got close she dug to the body
working the abdomen and ribs mixing in an occasional uppercut to
the breasts. The cumulative effect started to show. Jayden’s
breathing grew a little heavier and the look on her face gave
her away. The body work was working as Jayden's punches lost a
fraction of their snap.
With just under a minute left, Jayden made her most aggressive
move of the round. She planted her feet and threw a hard
combination — jab, right hand, left hook. The right hand landed
solidly on Dove’s jaw. Dove’s eyes glazed for a split second.
Jayden followed immediately, sensing the opening, and drove a
right hand to the body and another upstairs. Dove’s back touched
the ropes. Carmen Electra watched closely.
Dove did not go down. She rolled with the last punch, clinched
tight, her biceps bulging as she squeezed tight and forced the
break. When they separated, Dove’s face was marked but her eyes
were clear. She had been hurt, but she had also been here
before. She stepped forward again instead of backing up. That
single decision drew a roar from the Princesses section.
The final thirty seconds were pure heat. Jayden tried to keep
the distance and steal the round with clean shots from range.
Dove refused to let her. She walked through a jab, slipped a
right hand, and planted a heavy left hook on Jayden’s liver. A
loud moan escaped Jayden’s lips and her right leg buckled. She
dropped to a knee for a moment, more from the shock of the shot
than a full knockdown, then rose immediately. Carmen started a
standing eight count as a precaution. Jayden nodded hard, gloves
up, and the referee waved them on with twelve seconds left.
Dove tried to finish the flurry. Jayden covered and moved,
surviving the last exchanges on pure athleticism and the
knowledge that the bell was close. They traded one final
exchange in the center of the ring — Jayden’s longer punches
against Dove’s shorter, heavier ones — until the bell rang loud
and clear.
Both women turned toward their corners breathing hard. Dove’s
cheek was cut and her nose pink, but her posture remained
upright and calm. Jayden’s midsection was already reddening from
the body work, and the single knee touch had been a warning.
Round one had been fast, physical, and mean. Neither fighter had
given an inch they did not have to. The finals had begun exactly
as everyone expected — with both women willing to punish each
other to take control of the night.
Round 1 Scoring – Dove Cameron 10 – 8 Jayden Bartels
Round 2:
The bell rang and Jayden Bartels came out determined to correct
the first round. She immediately pumped the jab, using her full
reach to keep Dove Cameron at the end of her punches. Two jabs
landed clean. A third snapped Dove’s head back. Jayden circled
left, feet still quick, and fired a straight right that caught
the blonde on the guard. The message was clear: Jayden wanted
the fight back on the outside where her length and speed
mattered most.
Dove accepted the early shots and kept walking forward. She
slipped one jab, blocked another, and stepped in with a hard
right hand to the body. The punch landed with a heavy thud.
Jayden’s face tightened. Dove followed with a short left hook
upstairs that forced Jayden to reset. The blonde's pressure was
patient but constant. She was not rushing. She was hunting.
Jayden tried to make her pay for every step. She doubled the jab
and then threw a quick combination — right hand, left hook —
that caught Dove on the temple and cheek. Dove’s eyes narrowed,
but her legs stayed solid. She clinched briefly, shoved Jayden
off, and immediately dug another left hook into the same spot on
the ribs she had punished in round one. Jayden’s elbow tucked in
tight to protect. Dove switched upstairs with a right hand that
landed flush.
The crowd rose as the pace increased. Jayden’s movement was
still elite — she pivoted, angled, and made Dove miss with a
clean right hand — but every time she stopped to punch in
combination, Dove closed the distance and made the exchange
costly. A sharp uppercut from Dove lifted Jayden’s chin. A
follow-up left hook to the body made the Wannabee step back on
shaky legs for the first time in the round.
Jayden answered with pure spite. She planted her feet and threw
a hard overhand right that crashed into Dove’s guard and
partially got through. The shot spun Dove slightly. Jayden
swarmed, landing two more punches on the Princess arms and
shoulders before Dove tied her up. Carmen Electra broke them
cleanly. Both women were breathing harder now. The cut on Dove’s
cheek from round one had reopened and a thin line of blood ran
down her face. Jayden’s midsection was visibly reddened.
Mid-round, Dove timed a perfect counter. Jayden threw a long
probing jab. Dove slipped outside, stepped in, and ripped a left
hook to the liver followed by a right hand upstairs. The body
shot folded Jayden forward. Her hands dropped for a split
second. Dove did not waste it. She threw a short, vicious
uppercut that caught Jayden clean on the chin. Jayden’s legs
shimmied. She stumbled backward until her butt hit the second
rope, one glove up and the other draped over the top rope.
Carmen Electra stepped in and gave Jayden another standing eight
count. The referee looked into her eyes, checked her gloves, and
asked if she could continue. Jayden nodded hard, spit her
mouthpiece slightly, then bit down again. The count reached
eight. Carmen waved them on.
Dove tried to finish. She walked straight in and threw heavy
shots — left to the body, right upstairs, another left to the
navel. Jayden covered, rolled, and clinched desperately. She
survived the next twenty seconds by holding and forcing resets.
When they separated, Jayden’s legs were still heavy, but her
eyes had cleared. She jabbed her way back to the center of the
ring, buying time.
The final forty seconds became a war of attrition. Jayden used
every bit of her remaining speed to stay on the outside and land
single shots. Dove kept cutting the ring off, landing the
heavier punches whenever she got close. A late right hand from
Dove snapped Jayden’s head sideways. Jayden answered with a
sharp left hook that caught Dove on the jaw and reminded
everyone she was still dangerous. They traded in the center
until the bell rang, both women still throwing as the sound cut
through the noise.
Dove turned toward her corner with blood on her cheek and her
eyes calm. Jayden walked back more slowly, midsection marked,
legs not fully recovered from the standing eight. Round two had
been harder and more one-sided than the first.
Round 2: Dove Cameron 10 – Jayden Bartels 8 (standing eight
count)
Total after 2 Rounds: Dove Cameron 20 – 16 Jayden Bartels
Round 3:
The bell rang and Jayden Bartels came out like a different
fighter. She tasted the canvas twice but neither time was the
kind of knockdown that could swing a fight. Jayden was fine
physically but Dove's experience was easily winning and she knew
she needed to take the fight to the vet.
Jayden did not wait. She did not feel her way in. She did not
**** foot around. She snapped a hard jab that landed square on
Dove Cameron’s already marked cheek, then followed immediately
with a straight right that **** against the blonde’s guard and
partially got through. The Wannabees eyes were focused now, the
earlier sluggishness pushed aside by pure urgency. She had spent
two rounds being walked down and hurt to the body. Dove had
dictated the action and Jayden's body paid the price. She was
not going to spend a third the same way.
Dove tried to close the distance the way she had before, head
tucked into her chin, left leg out, shoulder squared. Jayden
made her pay for it. A clean left hook from the outside caught
Dove on the temple and spun her half a step sideways. The
Princesses section went quiet for a second. Jayden did not let
the moment die. She stepped in behind the punch and ripped a
right hand to the body, then an uppercut that snapped Dove’s
head back. For the first time in the fight Dove's legs looked
less than certain.
Dove instinctively clinched and tried to smother the surge.
Jayden shoved her off and kept the punches coming — jab, right
hand, left hook. The length was finally being used the way it
was supposed to be used. Dove blocked some, absorbed others, and
tried to dig a left hook into Jayden’s ribs the way she had all
night. Jayden was ready for it. She turned her hip, took the
shot on the elbow, and answered with a sharp right cross that
opened the cut on Dove’s cheek wider. Blood ran freely now.
The crowd felt the shift. The Wannabees section rose as one.
Jayden’s movement was back — the light feet, the quick pivots,
the ability to hit and not stay in the pocket long enough for
Dove’s power to land clean. She circled, jabbed, and then
exploded into combinations that forced Dove to reset. A hard
right hand landed flush on Dove’s jaw. Dove's eyes flickered and
she shook her head. Jayden saw it and poured forward.
Dove tried to tie her up again. Jayden refused the clinch,
stepped to the side, and threw a left hook that caught Dove on
the ear. The shorter woman stumbled. Her gloves dropped for a
split second. Jayden did not hesitate. She threw a right hand
with everything she had left in the tank. The punch landed high
on Dove’s cheekbone and the champion’s legs folded.
Dove went down hard on the seat of her trunks, gloves touching
the canvas for balance. The arena exploded. Carmen Electra waved
Jayden to a neutral corner and began the count.
Dove’s face was a mask of shock and anger. She had not been set
on her ass in a long time. She pushed up to one knee at four,
rose fully at six, and nodded hard at the referee. Carmen looked
into her eyes, checked her gloves, and asked the mandatory
questions. Dove answered clearly. The count reached ten. Carmen
waved them on.
Jayden came straight at her. The hunger, the swagger, the
confidence was all over her face. She threw a hard combination —
jab, right, left hook — trying to end it. Dove covered, rolled
with the shots, and clinched tight, forcing the referee to break
them. When they separated, Dove’s legs were still heavy but her
eyes were clear again. The veterans experience showed. She did
not panic. She did not back straight up. She stepped to the side
and made Jayden reset.
The next minute became a real fight. Jayden still had the
momentum and the reach, but Dove had the composure. Every time
Jayden loaded up on a big right hand, Dove slipped or blocked
and tried to answer with shorter, sharper shots inside. A left
hook from Dove landed clean on Jayden’s body and reminded her
that the blonde was still dangerous. Jayden answered with a
stiff jab and a right hand that kept Dove honest.
Blood from Dove’s cheek streaked down her face into a trickle
between her cleavage. Jayden’s own midsection was still marked
from the earlier rounds, but the knockdown had given her new
life. She used the last ninety seconds to box behind the jab,
move laterally, and make Dove come forward into punches. Dove
kept walking, still trying to cut the ring off, still looking
for the one heavy body shot that could swing the energy back.
She landed a solid right hand late, but Jayden took it and fired
back immediately.
In the final twenty seconds they stood in the center and traded.
Jayden’s punches were longer and cleaner. Dove’s were shorter
and meant to hurt. A left hook from Jayden caught Dove on the
jaw again and forced her to hold. Carmen broke them with five
seconds left. Both women raised their gloves and stared at each
other until the bell rang.
Jayden turned to her corner with her chest heaving and her eyes
wide. She had finally made the fight hers for a full round. Dove
walked back more slowly, the cut still bleeding, the memory of
the canvas still fresh. She had been down, but she had survived.
The championship pedigree had kept her in the fight when a
lesser fighter might have folded.
The round belonged to Jayden, and the knockdown had changed the
math.
Scoring Round 3: Jayden Bartels 10 -8 Dove Cameron (clean
knockdown)
Running Total after 3 Rounds Dove Cameron 28 – 26 Jayden
Bartels
Round 4:
The bell rang and the fight immediately turned vicious.
Jayden Bartels still carried the electricity of the knockdown.
She stepped straight into the center of the ring and snapped a
hard jab that landed on Dove Cameron’s damaged cheek. Blood was
already moving again. Jayden doubled the jab and followed with a
straight right that split against Dove’s guard and partially
broke through. She was not waiting to see what the Princess had
left. She was trying to take the fight right now.
Dove answered the only way she knew. She walked through the next
jab, slipped the right hand by a narrow margin, and drove a
heavy left hook into Jayden’s body. The punch landed with the
kind of weight that had been hurting the Jayden all night.
Jayden’s face tightened, but she refused to give ground. She
fired back with a left hook of her own that caught Dove on the
ear and made the her head snap sideways. Both women stayed in
the pocket. Neither wanted distance.
They began to trade in short, ugly bursts. Jayden used her
length to land the first punch in most exchanges. Dove used her
experience and the strength she had built to make sure the last
punch in those exchanges belonged to her. A right hand from
Jayden opened the cut wider and sent a fresh stream of blood
down Dove’s face. Dove responded by ripping two hard hooks to
the body that forced Jayden to drop her elbow and give up the
cleaner head shots she wanted. The sound of the body punches was
heavy and final.
Carmen Electra stayed close. The action was too intense for her
to give either woman much room. When they clinched, both
fighters made it dirty — Jayden grinding her forearm across
Dove’s cut, Dove digging short uppercuts on the break. The
referee shouted warnings that were ignored. The crowd was on its
feet, feeding off every exchange.
Mid-round Jayden found another clean moment. She timed Dove’s
forward step and threw a perfect counter right hand that landed
flush on the blonde's left eye. Dove’s legs dipped. She lost
focus for a fraction of a second. Jayden did not hesitate. She
poured in a left hook and another right to the same eye, driving
Dove back toward the ropes. The Princesses section went silent.
For a moment it looked like the younger fighter might score the
second knockdown of the fight.
Dove’s instincts saved her. She clinched hard, buried her head,
and forced Carmen to step in and break them. When they
separated, Dove’s legs were still not completely steady, but her
eyes had cleared despite some swelling. She had been here
before. She had survived worse moments in bigger fights. She
stepped forward again instead of sideways, accepting another
hard jab from Jayden just to close the distance and dig another
left hook into the body.
The pace became punishing. Both women were breathing through
their mouths. Jayden’s midsection was already darkening from the
accumulated body work. Dove’s left eye was beginning to narrow
as the swelling around the cut increased. Still they refused to
give the other an easy second. Jayden kept trying to box behind
the double jab and land the longer, cleaner shots. Dove kept
walking her down, forcing exchanges, and making every one of
those exchanges expensive.
With just over a minute left, Dove timed a beautiful slip.
Jayden threw a hard right hand. Dove moved her head just enough,
stepped inside, and planted a short left hook on the liver
followed by a right uppercut that lifted Jayden’s chin. The
taller girl’s legs buckled. She grabbed at Dove’s arms to stay
upright. Carmen watched closely but let them continue. Jayden
held on, took another body shot on the break, and then shoved
Dove away to reset.
The final forty seconds were pure spite. Jayden, desperate to
keep the momentum she had won in Round 3, threw everything she
had left — long snapping jabs, hard crosses, a left hook that
landed clean on Dove’s damaged cheek. Dove answered with
shorter, heavier punches that carried the authority of a fighter
who still believed the night belonged to her. A late right hand
from Dove snapped Jayden’s head back. A final left hook from
Jayden opened the cut even more. They were still throwing when
the bell rang.
Both women turned toward their corners marked and breathing
hard. Dove’s face was a mess of blood and swelling, but her
posture remained upright. Jayden’s body language still carried
urgency and belief, even as the body shots continued to take
their toll. Round 4 had been a war without a clear collapse. It
had been the kind of round that decides whether a fight becomes
legendary or merely competitive.
Scoring Round 4: Dove Cameron 10 - 9 Jayden Bartels
Running Total after 4 Rounds Dove Cameron 38 – 35 Jayden
Bartels
Round 5:
The bell rang and the damage from the first four rounds was
immediately visible on both women.
Jayden Bartels’ midsection was already dark and angry from the
accumulated body work. Ice packs temporarily numbed the pain but
every deep breath showed it. Dove Cameron’s left cheek was
swollen and split, the cut reopened and wet, and the eye above
it was beginning to narrow. Vision on that side was no longer
clean. Dove knew it. She came out with a high guard, right hand
and left hand both elevated to protect the damaged cheek and the
swelling eye. It was the correct decision for her face. It was
the wrong decision for everything below it.
Jayden saw the high guard and went straight to the body.
She stepped in behind a jab and drove a hard right hand into
Dove’s ribs. The blonde’s elbows were up. The shot landed clean
as Dove took a step back. Jayden followed with a left hook to
the belly that folded Dove forward a fraction, then a straight
right to the solar plexus that forced the air out of her in a
sharp, involuntary sound. Dove tried to keep the guard high.
Jayden stayed low and mean. Another right hand to the ribs.
Another left to the body. The Wannabee was no longer looking for
the highlight-reel head shot. She was trying to break Dove’s
will from the bottom up.
Dove answered when she could, short hooks to Jayden’s already
damaged midsection, but every time she lowered a hand to punch
she risked the eye. Jayden made her pay for the hesitation. Then
the punches climbed. Jayden stepped in close, dipped her knees,
feinted low, then drove an uppercut that landed squarely on the
underside of Dove’s left breast. The crowd winced at the
sickening impact. Dove’s face twisted and her body froze. A
second uppercut followed on the other side, hard and deliberate.
Dove’s high guard had left her chest open and Jayden was taking
full advantage.
Something in Dove snapped.
The blonde's composure that had carried her through four rounds
fractured. How dare this little loser target her breasts. She
dropped both hands and fired a wild right hand out of pure
anger. Jayden slipped it easily. Dove threw another, wider this
time. Jayden leaned back, let it pass, and stepped in. One
minute into the round Dove’s guard was down around her chest,
trying to protect what had just been hurt. Jayden saw the
opening the way a fighter who needs the night is supposed to see
it.
She threw an explosive right hand that started at her hip and
turned over completely. The punch caught Dove flush on the
button.
Dove’s legs disappeared from under her and lighting flashed in
her eyes. She went down flat on her back, the impact jarring,
her eyes wide and unfocused. For a moment she simply lay there,
arms moving without purpose. She tried to roll onto her stomach
and could not complete the motion on the first attempt. The
second try got her onto her side. Carmen Electra was already
over her, counting loud, clear and deliberate.
Dove forced herself to a knee at five. At six she reached for
the ropes. At seven she pulled hard, using the top rope to drag
her upper body upright while her legs still refused to cooperate
fully. She was on her feet at eight, but her knees were soft and
her eyes had not completely cleared. Carmen held her gloves,
looked hard into her face, and asked the questions. Dove
answered, voice thick but present. Carmen hesitated. The
Princess was clearly stunned. The benefit of the doubt, and the
fact that Dove remained upright and responsive, kept the fight
alive. Carmen gave her a last warning then waved them on.
Jayden came forward for the finish. Dove’s legs were still gone.
The experience that had made her a seven-time UCC champion took
over. She did not try to box. She walked straight into Jayden,
wrapped her up, and held on with everything she had. She
grabbed. She held. She stomped on toes. She pulled hair on the
break when Carmen was on the opposite side of the clinch. She
made the fight dirty, ugly, messy and small and slow. Every
second she stayed upright and tied up was a second her legs
could remember how to work. Jayden’s face twisted with
frustration. She tried to punch free, tried to create space,
tried to get the clean shot that would end it. Dove refused to
give it to her pulling hair and tugging on Jayden's top claiming
her glove was stuck. The more Jayden struggled, the more she
lost the composure that had given her the knockdown. She started
throwing wild punches on the break, wasting energy, feeding Dove
the exact recovery time she needed.
By the final minute Dove’s legs had returned enough for her to
fight again. The round became even and bitter. Dove went back to
the body with the kind of spite that only comes after being
dropped by a prospect. She dug left hooks into Jayden’s damaged
ribs and solar plexus, each one drawing a visible reaction.
Jayden answered by going back to the damaged left side of Dove’s
face, slamming jabs and rights into the cut and the swelling
eye, trying to make the vision problem worse. Neither woman gave
an inch. Blood and sweat mixed freely. The crowd was on its feet
for every exchange.
In the closing seconds Dove forced Jayden backward with pure
pressure, bullying her into the Wannabees corner. With Jayden’s
back near the ropes, Dove dipped and drove two short, stinging
uppercuts up into the undersides of Jayden’s breasts almost
lifting them out of her top. The punches were deliberate and
nasty and meant to keep Jayden off her game. Jayden’s breath
hitched and her face flashed pure anger. The bell rang.
Jayden ignored it. She threw a right hand after the bell and
tried to follow Dove toward the center of the ring. Her corner
poured through the ropes, grabbing her arms, shouting at her to
stop. She kept trying to pull free, eyes locked on Dove, still
furious about the late breast shots and the fact that the blonde
was still standing. It took three people to force her onto the
stool. She refused to sit at first, still talking, still
pointing across the ring.
In the opposite corner Dove sat heavily. Her left eye was nearly
closed. The cut was a mess. Her legs still carried the memory of
the brutal knockdown. She stared at the floor while her corner
worked on the eye and tried to get her to focus. She was in her
own head, replaying the punch that had put her on her back. Her
trainers spoke in short, sharp sentences, demanding her
attention, reminding her of the score, of the championship
rounds she had already survived. Slowly, the veteran focus began
to return, but the damage was real and the fight had changed.
Scoring Round 5: Jayden Bartels 10 – 8 Dove Cameron (knockdown)
Running Total after 5 Rounds Dove Cameron 46 – 45 Jayden
Bartels
Dove Cameron’s Corner:
Dove sat heavily on the stool, head tilted back while her cutman
worked frantically on the left side of her face. The eye was
nearly swollen shut. The cheek beneath it was puffy and split,
the flesh around the cut angry and wet despite every second of
pressure and adrenaline they forced into it. Her breathing was
steady but deep. The legs that had failed her a round earlier
were returning, but they still felt like they belonged to
someone else — maybe seventy percent, maybe a little less. She
could stand. She could move. She could not trust them completely
yet.
Her head trainer crouched in front of her, hands on her gloves,
forcing her to look at him with the one good eye.
“Listen to me. You’re up. Forty-six to forty-five. One round.
That’s all that separates you from walking out of here with this
whole damn fight. But momentum is hers right now and she knows
it. She dropped you and damn near ended you. She’s smelling it.
You cannot give her a clean look at that left side again.”
Dove nodded once, the motion small. Blood still seeped from the
cut despite the work being done.
“High guard when you’re at range,” the trainer continued. “Make
her work to get through it. When you close, you go to that body
the way you’ve been going all night. She’s soft there. She’s
been soft there since the second round. Liver. Ribs. T!ts!
Everything she’s trying to protect. You put her on that knee
again and the air goes out of her. She’s tired of being hurt
there. Make it worse.”
Another corner man pressed ice against the back of Dove’s neck.
“Your legs are coming back. Don’t reach. Don’t chase, Don't load
up. Short punches. Walk her down like you own her. You’ve closed
these rounds your whole career. This is just another one. She’s
never been here. You have. Remind her ot that with every body
punch.”
Dove’s one open eye stayed locked on her trainer. The veteran
calm was returning, slower than usual, but it was returning. She
spit into the bucket, the saliva pink, and bit down on the
mouthpiece when they offered it. She did not speak. She only
nodded again, harder this time. The stool was pulled. She stood,
legs still not perfect but back. Her face a mess as she stared
across the ring at the woman who had twice put her on her back.
Jayden Bartels’ Corner:
Jayden stood for most of the minute between rounds. She did not
want the stool. Her torso was a map of damage — red fading into
pink, purple already turning darker along the ribs, black and
blue spreading across the belly where Dove had buried shot after
shot. Twice the liver punches had put her on a knee. The memory
of those shots sat in her body like a warning. Lower, her
breasts still throbbed from the two uppercuts Dove had driven
into her in the closing seconds of the last round. The pain was
personal. It mixed with the earlier hair-pulling, the holding,
the foot stomps. the dirty tactics, and turned into something
cold and focused.
Her head trainer finally forced her down onto the stool and got
directly in her face.
“Look at me. You’re not losing your head again. That's how the
Princesses win. They cheat and try and get you off you game.
That **** is over. You had her hurt. You had her down. Then you
let her drag you into the gutter and steal the minute back. No
more. She goes down again and she's not getting up!”
Jayden’s eyes were still hot, but she was listening now.
“You’re down one point. Forty-six to forty-five. Momentum is
yours. Her face is wrecked. That left eye is almost gone. She
can’t see off that side and her legs are still not right from
the knockdown. She is there for the taking. But you do not get
this done by trading with her in the center and letting her get
in your head. Circle to the right, her vision is failing and she
won't pick up the jabs. Double jab then I want you to go to the
body. She didn't like it last time and it put her off her game.
Do it again but stay to the right.”
He slapped her gloves for emphasis as a second trainer stepped
in.
“You need a knockdown and the fight is yours. Got it? Not a
maybe. Not a strong round. A f$cking knockdown. Go to the right,
use the jab. Keep her on the end of your punches. When she tries
to walk you down, make her pay for every step. She’s going to go
to the body because that’s all she has left that works. Elbows
in. Turn with the shots. Roll with the punches. Then you break
her with something clean upstairs. She gave you the opening last
round when she got stupid. Make her open again. Then end it.”
Jayden nodded once, sharp and definite.
“She thinks she's all that because she runs the big stable full
of plastic Diva's. You’re the one who has everything to prove.
Prove it in the next three minutes. Knock her down and this
whole night belongs to us.”
The corner pulled the stool. Jayden quickly stood, torso
screaming, breasts still aching, and stared across the ring with
the kind of focus that only appears when a fighter has decided
the only acceptable ending is the other woman on the canvas.
Round 6:
The bell rang for the last time and both women met in the center
already carrying the full weight of the previous five rounds.
Dove Cameron’s left eye was a narrow slit. The cheek beneath it
was swollen and split. Her legs still felt only about seventy
percent reliable after the knockdown in Round 5. She came out
with the high guard that had become necessary, both gloves
elevated to protect what little vision she had left on that
side. Jayden Bartels’ torso was a ruin of red, purple, and
deepening black-and-blue. Every breath she took showed the cost
of the body work Dove had poured into her all night. Twice
already the liver shots had put her on a knee. She still needed
one more decisive moment.
Dove found the first one.
She slipped a jab, stepped inside, and threw a scything left
hook that started low and ripped upward into the soft center of
Jayden’s belly. The punch landed with a heavy, wet sound.
Jayden’s body folded in two. Her elbows clamped inward. Her
knees dipped so hard it looked certain she would touch the
canvas. Carmen Electra stepped in immediately and began a
standing eight count as Jayden stayed upright only by sheer
stubbornness. The referee looked into her eyes, checked her
gloves, and forced the full count while the Princesses section
roared. Jayden nodded through it, breathing in short, shallow
bursts, and the fight continued.
Jayden used the next thirty seconds the only way she could. She
stayed on the outside, jabbing, moving, refusing to let Dove get
close enough to dig another shot into bruised and battered core.
Her legs were heavy from the body shot and the standing eight,
but the reach and the dance-trained footwork kept her alive
while the air slowly returned to her lungs. Dove pressed, trying
to cut the ring off, but the taller girl kept the distance just
long enough to recover.
Once Jayden’s legs felt closer to normal, Dove changed targets.
She stepped in behind a feint and drove a straight left that
flattened against Jayden’s right breast. The impact was
deliberate and nasty. An uppercut followed immediately, rising
into the left breast knocking it free from her sweaty top. Then
Dove snapped a double jab straight into the same tender left
side, the second punch landing harder than the first. Jayden’s
face twisted with pure rage. The earlier late-round uppercuts
from Round 5 were still throbbing; these new shots turned the
pain personal. Something in her snapped.
Jayden started throwing wild. Right hands, left hooks, overhands
— punches that came from pure fury instead of technique. They
whistled past Dove’s head by inches. One grazed the blonde’s
ear. Another brushed the top of her guard. None of them landed
clean. Dove stayed calm inside the storm, eyes narrowed to the
one good side, waiting. When Jayden over committed on a wide
right hand, Dove stepped in and slammed a gut-wrenching left
hook deep into the belly, the same neighborhood she had been
punishing all night.
The punch seemed to land in slow motion. Jayden’s mouth flew
open. Her gum shield spun out in a wet arc and bounced on the
canvas. The air left her lungs in a loud, involuntary moan. She
dropped straight to both knees, arms wrapped around her
midsection, forehead nearly touching the canvas. The sound she
made was a raw guttural moan.
Carmen Electra did not start the count immediately sure that
Jayden was down for the count. She watched for a moment as
Jayden stayed down, cradling her belly. Only when she saw both
gloves clearly on the canvas did she begin, and the count came
late. The extra seconds were obvious. The Princesses corner
screamed in protest. Jayden forced herself up at nine on the
elongated count, legs shaking, still unable to take a full
breath. Carmen gave her the mandatory count and checked her
again.
Jayden’s corner men were already on the apron. When the
mouthpiece was retrieved, they took their own sweet time rinsing
and returning it, stretching every possible second of recovery.
Dove stood in the opposite corner shouting at the referee about
the delay. Carmen finally waved them on.
The moment the command to box came, Jayden stepped forward and
drove an uppercut straight into Dove’s gut. The Princess was
still complaining, still focused on the earlier count, and the
punch caught her clean and unguarded. Dove’s mouth opened. Her
knees softened. The air left her in a sharp grunt. Suddenly the
woman who had only needed to survive was the one who was hurt.
Nearly two minutes remained. Dove had an insurmountable lead
with the two sixth round knockdown. She had scored the standing
eight and put Jayden down in a ball. All she had to do was stay
clear and stay upright. Jayden knew it too. Her own body was in
agony — every punch she threw sent pain back through her damaged
torso as badly as it delivered it — but she kept the jab glued
to Dove’s face. Jab to the eye. Jab to the cheek. Jab to the eye
again. The left side of Dove’s face was a mess and the vision on
that side was effectively gone. Jayden used it.
She kept the jab pumping until Dove’s guard climbed higher and
higher to protect the damaged eye and cheek. When the gloves
were high enough, Jayden went low without hesitation. A hook
smashed into the ribs. A cross followed to the same spot.
Another hook dug in underneath. An uppercut rose into Dove’s
breasts, short and spiteful. Then when the guard slipped, Jayden
went back upstairs — jab, jab, jab — forcing the guard up once
more.
The moment Dove’s hands rose, Jayden dropped levels for the last
time. A hook smashed into the belly. A cross crashed into the
ribs. Then she planted her feet and threw the final shot of the
night: a scything left hook that started at her hip and ripped
directly into Dove’s navel with every remaining ounce of
strength and spite she possessed.
The punch landed free and flush. Dove’s midsection molded
completely around Jayden’s glove. Jayden held the fist there for
a brief second, watching the champion’s body collapse forward.
Dove crumpled into a tight ball at her feet, arms tucked in,
forehead on the canvas, no longer able to move.
Carmen Electra shoved Jayden toward a neutral corner. She turned
to Dove, looked at the Princess curled on the canvas, and after
a few long seconds waved both arms to signal the end.
Jayden Bartels wins by knockout, body punch, at 2:37 of Round 6.
The arena noise was deafening. Jayden stood in the neutral
corner, chest heaving, torso a congested road map of damage,
still feeling every liver shot and every breast punch she had
absorbed. She had been folded, counted on, and forced to dig
past the breaking point 4 times but forced herself up each and
every time. She willed herself to fight on and never gave Dove
the satisfaction. But in the end she had still found the one
shot that put Dove down in a ball. The one punch that ended the
fight. The punch that put the Wannabees on the map as Dove
remained on the canvas for several more seconds before her
corner reached her, the left side of her face ruined, the final
body shot having taken everything that was left.
The stable showdown was over. The Wannabees had their night
winning the event 4-3.
Final Result: Jayden Bartels def. Dove Cameron by KO (body
punch) at 2:37 of Round 6.
Post-Fight:
The moment Carmen Electra waved off the fight the Disney
Princesses corner exploded.
They poured through the ropes, pointing at the canvas, shouting
that Jayden Bartels had been down for far longer than ten
seconds on the second knockdown of the round. Their claim was
specific and loud: the count had started late, Jayden was still
on her knees at what should have been twelve, thirteen, maybe
fourteen, and the total time on the canvas may have even
stretched past fifteen seconds. In their eyes she had been
counted out. The knockout that followed, they argued, should
never have happened. Officials and security immediately formed a
barrier as the two stables surged toward each other. The crowd
split down the middle — half roaring in celebration, half
screaming that the fight had been stolen.
Gisele Eisenberg and Sabrina Carpenter were pulled apart each
with strands of hair from their hated rival. Mackenzie Ziegler
jumped over security and landed a punch to the side of Emily
Alyn Lind's head. Brec Bassinger and her former teammate
Francesca Capaldi were wrestling on the canvas rolled up into a
tight catball. Security finally former a solid line between the
shouting stables.
Within a minute the protest became official. Princesses
representatives demanded an immediate review. Members of the
Nevada Boxing Commission and officials from the UCC were already
in the building. They pulled the referee, the timekeeper, and
both corners into a tense huddle at the edge of the ring apron
while the arena waited under the bright lights. The discussion
was sharp and heated. Hands moved in the air. Voices rose and
were forced back down. Replays were examined on a ringside
monitor. The Princesses insisted the elongated count had given
Jayden recovery she had not earned. The Wannabees countered that
Dove had been the one on the canvas at the end and that the
fight had been won cleanly by the finishing body shot.
Nearly five full minutes passed. The crowd’s noise never dropped
below a roar. Finally the commission members stepped away from
the huddle. The decision was announced to the corners first: the
result would stand. Jayden Bartels remained the winner by
knockout at 2:37 of Round 6. The late count, while imperfect,
was ruled within the referee’s discretion under the
circumstances. There would be no reversal.
The Princesses' corner erupted in outrage. Trainers pounded
their fists against the canvas in disbelief while Sydney Sweeney
had to be physically restrained from storming toward the
officials. A deafening chorus of boos, jeers, and angry shouts
rained down from every corner of the arena, directed squarely at
the judges. For nearly a full minute, it felt as though the
crowd might explode into complete chaos.
Kylie cornered referee Carmen Electra, her former friend, and
unleashed a fiery verbal dressing-down, repeatedly jabbing a
finger into Carmen's chest as the two exchanged heated words.
Across the arena, Sadie Sink and Anna Cathcart ignited the crowd
by starting a booming chant of, "Pay the Ref! Pay the Ref!"
Within seconds, thousands of voices joined in, the rhythmic
Princess accusation echoing throughout the building until nearly
half the arena was chanting in unison. Security and event staff
watched nervously as the atmosphere reached a boiling point.
Only after several tense minutes did the chants finally begin to
fade, allowing the arena to regain some semblance of order.
Then the reality settled in. The ruling was final. No further
appeal would change the outcome tonight. The protest had been
heard and rejected. Slowly the Princesses corner’s protests lost
volume as the weight of the decision pressed down on them.
Dove Cameron, face still a mess of swelling and blood, pushed
herself off her stool. Her left eye was closed. She walked to
the center of the ring under her own power and took her place
beside Jayden Bartels. The two women stood close, both marked
and exhausted, the bitterness of the entire night still hanging
between them. Neither looked at the other. They simply waited
while the ring announcer received the final confirmation.
Bruce Buffer’s voice rolled across the arena.
“Ladies and gentlemen, after a review by the Nevada Boxing
Commission and the UCC, the result is official. At two minutes
and thirty-seven seconds of the sixth and final round, the
winner by knockout, and the new stable showdown champion…
Jaydennnnnnn Bartellllllsssssssss!”
Jayden’s hand was raised. The Wannabees section detonated. Dove
stood beside her for the required moment, then turned and walked
back toward her corner without acknowledging the celebration.
The rivalry had been settled in the most contentious way
possible, and neither side would forget how it ended.
Post Fight Humiliation:
The announcement of the official result had barely finished when
the Wannabees corner began chanting for the agreed-upon
humiliation. Every earlier fight on the card had ended the same
way: the winner stripped the loser of her bra and either paraded
her **** around the ring, bent her over a knee for a public
spanking, or smothered her with her breasts. The crowd already
knew the ritual. They started calling for it the moment Bruce
Buffer’s voice faded.
Dove Cameron stood in the center of the ring still breathing
hard, left eye closed, cheek swollen and split. When the demand
reached her she shook her head immediately.
“That was never decided for this fight,” she said, voice rough.
“Not for the extra main event.”
The reaction was instant and ugly. Boos rolled down from every
section that wasn’t pure Princesses. The Wannabees side screamed
louder. Even neutral fans joined in, shouting that the rules had
been the same all night and that the Diva Princess didn’t get a
special exemption. The noise turned personal fast. Dove looked
around the arena, jaw tight, and finally muttered “**** it”
under her breath.
She turned toward Jayden and gave a single sharp nod.
Jayden didn’t wait. She stepped in, grabbed the front of Dove’s
bra with both hands, and ripped it straight down the middle. The
material tore with a loud, wet sound. Dove’s firm breasts
spilled free, pale under the bright lights, the left side
already marked from the earlier uppercuts but both still sitting
high on her chest. Jayden didn’t pause. She raised her right
hand and delivered a hard, open-palm slap across Dove’s bare
****, first one side, then the other then back again. The
impacts were sharp and deliberate. Dove’s breasts were send
sharply to one side then the other both jiggled a few time
before coming to a stop. Dove took in a deep breath not giving
Jayden the satisfaction as she stayed upright and did not cover
herself.
HTML https://i.imgur.com/boFhROC.png
The crowd roared approval.
Jayden cupped her hands under the firm C-Cups, lifted them then
let them settle back down before giving them some light pats.
Jayden grabbed a fistful of Dove’s blonde hair at the back of
her head and started walking. She forced the **** Disney Diva
forward, parading her in a slow circle around the ring. Dove’s
arms stayed at her sides. Her face stayed expressionless despite
the swelling and the blood. Every few steps Jayden gave another
firm slap to the exposed breasts, making sure the entire arena
saw it. The Wannabees section chanted with every circuit. The
Princesses side watched in silence or looked away.
Halfway around the ring Maddie Ziegler climbed onto the apron
and tossed a thin black leash into the ring — the same one
Sabrina Carpenter had used earlier in Cape Town to parade
Giselle Eisenberg around the cage after her knockout. The crowd
recognized it instantly and the noise climbed even higher.
Maddie shouted for Jayden to clip it on and finish the ritual
properly.
Dove moved first. She ripped the leash out of the air before
Jayden could reach it, turned, and hurled it high into the crowd
on the Princesses side. The rejection was absolute. Security
scrambled as people fought over the falling strap.
Jayden watched the leash disappear and made her decision in the
same moment. A full breast smother would have required her to
press Dove’s face into her own chest, and her breasts were still
red and swollen from the late uppercuts Dove had landed. She
wasn’t going to put them on display. Instead she tightened her
grip on Dove’s hair, delivered two more hard slaps across the
blonde’s bare ****, and continued the parade.
She walked Dove the rest of the way around the ring at a
deliberate pace, forcing her to face every section of the crowd
while **** and marked. Each time they passed the Wannabees
corner the volume surged. Jayden’s free hand stayed active —
another slap, a tight nipple pinch, a sharp tug on the hair to
keep Dove’s chin up so nothing was hidden. Dove never tried to
cover herself and never pulled away. She simply endured the
circuit in silence, the veterans pride still visible even in
defeat.
When they completed the full loop Jayden stopped in the center
of the ring, gave Dove’s breasts one final open-handed slap that
echoed under the lights, and released her hair. Dove stood there
bare-chested, breathing steadily, staring straight ahead while
the arena continued to roar. Dove finally let out a deep breath
when Jayden stepped behind and latched onto her panties and gave
her a two-handed atomic wedgie. Jayden finally got the reaction
she wanted as Dove howled in agony. Jayden released the panties,
placed her foot on Dove's cheeks, and kicked her into her
corner.
The ritual was finished on Jayden’s terms. The Wannabees had the
win, the knockout, and the public humiliation of the opposing
stable’s leader.
Dove finally got to her feet, turned and walked back toward her
locker room without looking at anyone, leaving the torn bra on
the canvas behind her.
The Wannabee's Celebrate:
Hours after the final bell, the Wannabees turned the exclusive
Hakkasan Nightclub into their own private victory party. Maddie
Ziegler, Jules LeBlanc, Darci Lynne Farmer, and the night's
hero, Jayden Bartels, arrived to a thunderous reception.
Champagne flowed, the music pounded, and the dance floor
belonged to the stable that had just pulled off one of the
biggest victories in UCC history.
HTML https://i.imgur.com/UmkrLHa.png
This wasn't just another win—it was revenge.
They had defeated the rivals they hated most, and the image none
of them could stop talking about was the final one inside the
cage: Dove Cameron, battered and exhausted, curled up in a ball
at Jayden Bartels' feet as the referee declared the Wannabees
victorious. For months, the Princesses had talked down to them,
dismissed them, and questioned whether they belonged among the
UCC's elite. Now the Wannabees had answered every insult with
the only response that mattered—a victory on the biggest stage.
Every toast celebrated the stable's unity, resilience, and
refusal to back down. Jayden's gutsy performance instantly
became the stuff of UCC legend, while Maddie, Jules, and Darci
laughed as they replayed the night's defining moments over and
over. The club erupted every time someone shouted, "Wannabees!"
and each chorus was louder than the last.
The party raged until well after sunrise. Only when the morning
sun had been shining for over an hour did the exhausted but
exhilarated teammates finally call it a night. They walked out
of Hakkasan with sore feet, hoarse voices, and enormous smiles,
knowing they had done far more than win a match. They had
conquered their fiercest rivals, seized the bragging rights, and
sent a message to the rest of the UCC.
For one unforgettable night, the Wannabees stood alone at the
top of the mountain—and they intended to savor every second of
it.
Written by the Badass Barbies
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