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#Post#: 5779--------------------------------------------------
Blindfold Tournament Round 1 - Ariana Grande vs Dove Cameron
By: BadAssBunnies Date: July 30, 2025, 11:27 pm
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Sin City Slugfest VI � TOURNAMENT ROUND 1
Dove Cameron vs. Ariana Grande
10-Round Boxing Match | Standard Rules |
https://i.imgur.com/88a13A5.png
Dove Cameron
Age: 29 � Prime fighting years � 9/10
Height: 5'2" � Slightly taller than Ariana � 7/10
Weight: 110 lbs � Slight edge in strength/mass � 7/10
Reach: 63" � Advantage in striking distance � 8/10
Stance: Orthodox � Standard, effective base � 7/10
Affiliation: The Disney Princesses � Strong camp reputation �
8/10
Fighting Style: Tactical, cerebral counter-puncher � Patient,
intelligent, and calculated � 9/10
Overall: 55/70
Ariana Grande
Age: 31 � Still sharp, just slightly past peak � 8/10
Height: 5'0" � Shorter, slightly less reach � 6/10
Weight: 104 lbs � Less mass, more agility � 6/10
Reach: 61" � Slight disadvantage in range � 6/10
Stance: Orthodox � Solid fundamentals � 7/10
Affiliation: The Lost Wildcats � Fierce, aggressive camp � 8/10
Fighting Style: Fast-handed, combo-heavy � High volume,
pressure-based � 9/10
Overall: 50/70
Background & Training:
Dove Cameron:
Trained in hand-to-hand combat and boxing for her work in Agents
of S.H.I.E.L.D. and Descendants, with real sparring experience
and tactical discipline.
6 time UCC Lightweight Champion.
Exceptional cardio and fight IQ.
Her strengths lie in movement, range control, and a crisp,
punishing double jab.
Tough as nails with an iron chin and solid counterpunching
skills.
Weakness: Dislikes fighting in close; struggles when smothered
or pulled into fast-paced exchanges.
Ariana Grande:
A lifetime of dance training gives her elite footwork and
balance in the ring.
She glides around opponents, keeping them off rhythm.
Trains in boxing and cardio conditioning for her tours; known
for extremely fast hands and clean combinations.
Currently in the top 10 in the UCC Featherweight Division Her
flurry-style offense�three to five punch combos delivered with
precision�can overwhelm opponents before they react.
Though she lacks Dove�s reach and raw power, she makes up for it
by beating opponents to the punch, using her agility and timing.
Weakness: Can be overpowered in extended exchanges; vulnerable
to stiff counters if caught square.
Pre-Fight Odds & Analysis Odds:
Dove Cameron (-125)
Ariana Grande (+115)
Analysis:
This is a classic clash of styles: power and precision vs. speed
and volume.
Dove Cameron holds the edge in reach, ring awareness, and raw
durability. If she can keep Ariana at the end of her jab,
control the pace, and force Ariana to chase, she�ll score rounds
and maybe even break her opponent down by the late rounds.
But Ariana�s game plan is built on speed. Her explosive flurries
and non-stop movement can overwhelm even disciplined fighters.
If she stays light on her feet, cuts angles, and peppers Dove
with quick combinations, she could rack up early rounds and
frustrate Dove into mistakes.
Expect Ariana to dart in and out, firing sharp three-punch
combos before slipping away. If Dove hesitates or throws single
shots, she�ll get beaten to the punch. However, if Dove can time
Ariana�s entries and walk her into a right cross or a stiff
counter, she could swing momentum fast.
Prediction:
Dove by late-round TKO if she slows Ariana down and lands big
counters.
Ariana by decision if she keeps her pace, stays elusive, and
wins the volume game.
Stakes: A spot in the Sin City Slugfest final. Neither woman can
afford a misstep.
Sin City Slugfest VII � Match Reveal
Backstage at the MGM Grand, the lights dim for dramatic effect.
The arena is buzzing as the next main event is about to be
announced. The camera pans backstage where Dove Cameron sits on
a bench, gloved hands resting on her knees, her face still
bearing the lingering bruises from her last war. Her team is
quietly prepping her�wrapping ankles, taping gloves�when a
production assistant enters with a clipboard and a smirk.
�It�s time,� he says, and hands Dove a black envelope.
She rips it open, curious, maybe even hopeful. She reads the
name once� twice� and her face tightens.
Ariana Grande!
Dove�s lips press into a hard line. Her jaw clenches. A low,
bitter breath escapes her nose.
�No. No way,� she mutters.
She crumples the paper and stands abruptly, her stool falling
behind her with a clatter. �You�ve gotta be kidding me.�
From down the hall, a voice chimes in�light, sweet� smug.
�Well, well. Guess we�re doing this again, huh?�
Ariana steps into view wearing a cropped Sin City warm-up
hoodie, her dark eyes gleaming beneath perfectly shaped brows.
She�s already got her gloves hanging loose around her neck, like
a predator showing off a fresh kill. There�s a slight limp in
her step from their last encounter�but that only adds to the
menace of her smile.
�You remember the last time, right?� Ariana says, voice dripping
with sugar. �When I turned your legs into jelly?�
Dove�s fists curl.
�That was MMA,� she growls. �This is different.�
Ariana laughs. �Sure. Different gloves. Same result.�
Dove takes a step forward. Her team instinctively holds her
back�not because she�s outmatched, but because they know the
fire in her is about to explode. She hates Ariana. Not just for
beating her in the UCC, but for enjoying it. For humiliating her
in the later rounds. For the smug interviews. The grinning
walkout. The way she never let Dove forget it.
�This time,� Dove hisses, �you don�t get to kick me.�
Ariana leans in, whispering with venomous delight.
�No� but I�ll still break you.�
Dove doesn�t blink. She just stares, breathing through her nose
like a coiled snake, fists at her sides, heart already
hammering.
The match is set. The grudge is real. And both women know�this
time, only one walks out proud.
Round 1:
The bell rang, crisp and sharp.
Ariana Grande sprang forward like a dancer hitting her
mark�light on her toes, gliding sideways and then backward in a
graceful semi-circle. Dove Cameron took a slower step out of her
corner, her feet planted firmly, hands high, chin tucked,
calculating. Ariana wasn�t going to give her the center, not
yet. She darted left again, her ponytail snapping behind her as
she pumped out a lightning-quick jab that flicked off Dove�s
guard. Another jab�then a blur of a right-left-right combo
zipped toward Dove�s head.
The crowd roared. Ariana�s speed was dazzling.
But Dove didn�t flinch. She took the first glancing shots on her
gloves, felt Ariana�s range, and stepped forward. Her jab was
heavier, more deliberate, aimed not to score but to disrupt.
Ariana ducked under one and spun left, her feet barely brushing
the canvas, then shot back in�three punches to the body,
rapid-fire: tap-tap-CRACK to the ribs. Dove winced, more annoyed
than hurt, and fired back a brutal hook that just missed
Ariana�s retreating jaw.
Dove snarled, stepping in harder. She caught Ariana�s rhythm�saw
how she danced in to flurry, then danced out again. This time,
Dove feinted low and when Ariana bit, Dove fired a stiff jab
right to Ariana�s chest, stopping her cold for half a beat.
That half-beat was all Dove needed.
She lunged in, muscling Ariana backward with a clubbing right
cross that landed high on the guard but drove her toward the
ropes. Ariana slipped sideways, but Dove stayed on her, cutting
off the angle and digging a left hook into Ariana�s side. The
pop echoed through the arena. Ariana gasped and clinched
instinctively, holding Dove around the shoulders to smother the
pressure.
"Break!" the ref barked.
They separated clean.
Now it was Dove stalking forward, jabbing to the body, her feet
sliding, her eyes like a laser. But Ariana wasn�t panicking�she
reset, bounced sideways, then launched a clean three-punch
combo�jab, cross, jab�cracking Dove�s head back just slightly.
The crowd reacted with awe. Dove reset her guard, blinked once,
then smiled grimly.
Seconds left. Ariana circled, landing a few quick taps to the
arms, trying to steal the round with volume. But Dove suddenly
leapt in, timing Ariana�s exit path and hammering a hook to the
ribs that folded the smaller fighter sideways. Ariana staggered,
but kept moving, eyes wide now�respect showing.
The bell rang.
Both women returned to their corners with flushed faces and
heaving chests�Dove the bruiser, Ariana the blur. Each had
landed clean shots. Each had taken a few. The first round was a
war of contrast�volume vs. venom, footwork vs. firepower�and the
judges had their first hard call of the night.
Round 1 � Judge Scorecards:
Judge 1: 10-9 Ariana Grande
Judge 2: 10-9 Dove Cameron
Judge 3: 10-10 Even Round
Running Total After Round 1:
Dove Cameron: 9 - 10 - 10
Ariana Grande: 10 - 9 - 10
Round 2:
The bell for Round 2 clangs sharp, slicing through the electric
air. The fighters surge from their corners like they�ve been
uncaged.
Dove is all business now�head low, chin tucked, gloves high,
stalking Ariana with crisp footwork and murderous intent. The
bruises from their MMA bout still haunt her, and every punch she
throws now feels personal. Ariana, light on her feet as always,
jabs at Dove�s guard, testing range, smirking as she dances just
outside her reach.
�You look stiff, babe,� Ariana taunts, flicking a jab off Dove�s
cheek. �Still limping from last time?�
Dove answers with a hook to the ribs�THUMP�and Ariana gasps, the
grin disappearing for a beat.
�That feel stiff to you?� Dove snaps, and she comes alive.
She pins Ariana with a jab, then rips a right to the belly, a
left to the chest, and snaps a jab to the nose that rocks
Ariana�s head back. The crowd roars as Dove presses her back,
stalking her toward the ropes.
But Ariana�s not just taking damage. She�s measuring.
As Dove overextends on a right cross, Ariana dips low and
counters�POP!�a clean left hook to Dove�s temple. Dove stumbles,
stunned, blinking rapidly. Ariana pivots and slams a right to
her ribs, then another�CRACK!�to the same spot. Dove snarls,
trying to clinch, but Ariana ducks out and lands a quick left to
the mouth.
�You�re already breathing heavy,� Ariana whispers, circling.
�Cute.�
Dove wipes her mouth with the back of her glove, blood mixing
with sweat. She grits her teeth and charges.
The next thirty seconds are war.
Leather flies. Dove tags Ariana�s jaw with a right. Ariana snaps
Dove�s head back with a jab. Dove answers with a two-punch combo
to the belly and breast. Ariana slaps a left across Dove�s cheek
and spins out.
Then it happens.
Dove eats a sharp jab, but walks through it, throwing a hook of
her own. Ariana times it perfectly�DUCKS�and fires a brutal
uppercut into Dove�s solar plexus. Dove folds for half a second,
eyes wide�and Ariana steps in and blasts a right cross flush on
the mouth.
Dove reels back into the ropes. Her legs wobble. She�s dazed.
She is in trouble, big trouble!
The ref surges in�arms out.
Standing 8 count.
Dove steadies herself in the corner, breathing hard, glaring
across the ring.
Ariana bounces on her toes, hands high, smiling.
�This time,� she mouths, �I finish it standing.�
The bell sounds. Round 2 ends�but the fire is just getting
started.
Judge Scorecards � Round 2:
Judge 1: 10-8 Ariana Grande
Judge 2: 10-8 Ariana Grande
Judge 3: 10-8 Ariana Grande
Running Total After Round 2:
Dove Cameron: 17 - 18 - 18
Ariana Grande: 20 - 19 - 20
Round 3:
The bell rings for Round 3, and Ariana Grande is already
smiling.
She bounces out of her corner, light on her toes, confidence
oozing from every motion. Dove rises slower, jaw tight, bruises
blooming along her ribs and under her eye. That standing eight
count still echoes in her head, and Ariana knows it.
�Still dizzy, Dove?� Ariana sings, flicking a jab to her gloves,
then a snappy right that pops off her shoulder. �I warned you.�
Dove doesn�t answer. Her eyes narrow, gloves high.
Ariana circles left, feinting low before snapping another jab up
top. It taps Dove�s forehead�light, almost playful. She follows
with a quick one-two to the chest and a smirk. �You�re just
standing there,� she sneers. �You done already?�
Dove finally lunges�catching Ariana with a hard jab that rocks
her head back. The crowd erupts, sensing life from the blonde.
But Ariana grins through it.
She ducks the follow-up, counters with a hook to the body and a
short uppercut to Dove�s chin. Dove�s head jerks up, legs
stutter�but she stays upright. Ariana pours it on�three quick
shots to the belly, a jab to the nose, then a looping hook to
the temple.
Dove stumbles.
�Yep,� Ariana says, cocky now, �definitely done.�
She spins off the ropes and drives a jab between Dove�s gloves,
then a left-right combo that knocks the blonde�s mouthguard
askew. Blood glistens across Dove�s lips as she bites down and
resets, trying to fire a right hook�but Ariana�s already ducked
out again, showboating.
She sticks her tongue out. �Missed me sweetie.�
Ariana�s momentum is building now�gloves flashing, feet dancing,
voice taunting nonstop. She pops a jab to Dove�s breast, another
to her cheek, then whirls around with a half-turn and a grin.
She�s toying with her now.
Dove�s breathing heavy, gloves sagging just a little lower.
The crowd�s split�half screaming for a comeback, half roaring in
admiration of Ariana�s dominance.
But Round 3 isn�t over yet.
Dove fires a wild overhand right. Ariana steps inside it and
rips a left hook to the body. Dove winces�but doesn�t back off.
Instead, she answers with a gut shot of her own�THUMP�and Ariana
suddenly gasps.
Both women are swinging as the seconds tick down, fists flying.
Ariana seems in control�but Dove is still dangerous, still
hunting that one opening. The bell rings�and both women step
back, breathing hard.
Judge Scorecards � Round 2:
Judge 1: 10-9 Ariana Grande
Judge 2: 10-9 Dove Cameron
Judge 3: 10-9 Dove Cameron
Running Total After Round 3:
Dove Cameron: 26 - 28 - 28
Ariana Grande: 30 - 28 - 29
Round 4:
The bell for Round 4 echoes through the arena�and this time,
Dove charges.
No hesitation. No circling. Just forward pressure and raw
intent.
Ariana backpedals fast, surprised. Her showboating grin is gone
as Dove barrels in, fists tight and eyes blazing. She throws a
stiff jab to stop the rush�but Dove eats it and plows forward,
slamming a right hook into Ariana�s ribs. THUMP. Ariana grunts,
folds slightly�and Dove unleashes hell.
Left to the body. Right to the chest. Left hook to the chin.
Ariana stumbles back into the ropes. Dove smells blood and goes
in for the kill�digging savage hooks to Ariana�s sides, whipping
her torso left and right.
�You�re not dancing now, are you?� Dove growls through clenched
teeth.
Ariana�s gloves are high but shaky. She clinches�gasping into
Dove�s neck, trying to tie her up�but Dove muscles free and
hammers another body shot just above the waistband. Ariana lets
out a choked gasp and bends at the waist.
The crowd rises, sensing it. Dove steps in�
CRACK! A brutal left hook to Ariana�s jaw snaps her head
sideways.
DOWN SHE GOES.
Ariana crumples onto all fours, coughing, head sagging. The ref
yells, �ONE!... TWO!...�
Dove paces in the neutral corner, breathing hard, face flushed,
gloves shaking at her sides.
�Stay down,� she mutters under her breath.
But Ariana blinks. She plants a foot. Her corner is screaming.
�THREE!... FOUR!...� She reaches for the ropes. �FIVE!...
SIX!...� Slowly�achingly�Ariana drags herself upright.
Seven� Eight�
She stands.
Barely.
The ref checks her eyes. Ariana nods, blood in her mouth,
defiance in her stare. She�s allowed to continue.
The crowd is losing it.
Dove storms in again, looking to end it�but Ariana clinches
desperately, tying her up, forehead pressed against Dove�s
shoulder. �You had one shot,� Ariana mumbles through blood. �You
missed it.�
Dove snarls, wrenching a glove free to slam two short shots to
Ariana�s belly before the ref forces the break.
Ten seconds left.
They square off�both wobbling, both raw.
Dove throws a jab. Ariana parries and counters with a slick
right hook that lands square�but Dove doesn�t budge. She plants
her feet and fires a straight left into Ariana�s breast that
doubles her over again as the bell rings.
The crowd explodes.
Dove walks slowly to her corner, chest heaving, sweat pouring
off her. Ariana barely makes it back to hers, collapsing onto
the stool.
She�s still in it.
But that was Dove�s round.
SCORECARD � ROUND 4
Judge 1: 10-8 Dove Cameron
Judge 2: 10-8 Dove Cameron
Judge 3: 10-8 Dove Cameron
Running Totals After Round 4:
Dove Cameron: 36 - 38 - 38
Ariana Grande: 38 - 36 - 37
Round 5:
Ariana Grande sits on her stool, chest rising and falling
quickly. Her corner wasn�t interested in pleasantries.
�You�re twice as fast as that blonde slug,� her trainer barked,
dabbing her brow. �Snap that jab. Use your legs. And if you have
to hit her in the **** to back her off, do it. Whatever it
takes�win this damn fight!�
Ariana nodded, eyes hard now. She�d won Round 1 with a
knockdown, but Dove had bullied her in Round 2 and 3�walking her
down, jabbing her into the ropes, and punishing her flanks. It
was time to shift the momentum.
Across the ring, Dove Cameron was calm, confident. Her corner
told her the same thing they had since the fight began: �Stay
tight, time her entries. She�s flinching at the feints now.
Break her rhythm.�
The bell rang for Round 5.
Ariana came out blazing. Her jab flicked out with renewed
purpose�snapping at Dove�s face, chest, and gloves. She was
bouncing again, lighter, smarter, making Dove turn and pivot.
Dove snarled and stalked, cutting off the angles, but Ariana was
sharper than in the last two rounds. She tagged Dove with a
sharp one-two to the mouth, then ducked low and circled away.
Dove kept pressing forward, pounding a jab to Ariana�s chest,
then hooking hard to the ribs. Ariana winced, backpedaled, and
lunged in again�this time throwing a looping hook that missed,
followed by a short uppercut to the midsection that strayed
dangerously low.
Thump.
The shot landed right on Dove�s bikini line�too borderline to be
called illegal, but low enough that Dove�s body jolted. She
groaned and folded forward slightly, eyes wide in shock. The ref
gave Ariana a quick warning��Watch it!��but Dove waved it off,
shaking her head and resetting.
Ariana saw her opening and pounced.
She snapped a flurry up top�jab, cross, jab�then again dropped
low with a short right hand that clearly veered below the belt.
This time it landed square between Dove�s legs.
Thud.
Dove gasped, knees buckling, and dropped to a crouch, her glove
instinctively going between her thighs. The crowd erupted in
boos and gasps. The ref jumped in immediately.
�Time! Time! That was low!� he barked, waving Ariana away.
Dove knelt, grimacing, sweat dripping down her face, one glove
on the canvas, the other clenched around her midsection. Her
body twisted in pain, and for the first time in the fight, her
aura of control ****.
The ref issued a stern warning to Ariana and gave Dove time to
recover. Ariana stood across the ring, hands on her hips, chest
rising. No apology. Just cold focus.
After nearly a full minute, Dove rose, breathing hard. She
nodded to the ref�ready.
The round resumed with 30 seconds left. Dove surged forward,
rage in her eyes, trying to trap Ariana in a corner. But Ariana
moved, danced, jabbed, staying just out of reach, stealing the
last seconds with slick footwork.
Bell.
Dove stormed to her corner, jaw clenched. Ariana? She just
smirked. She�d bent the rules�but she was back in the fight.
SCORECARD � ROUND 5
Judge 1: 10-8 Dove Cameron
Judge 2: 10-8 Dove Cameron
Judge 3: 10-8 Dove Cameron
Running Totals After Round 5:
Dove Cameron: 46 - 48 - 48
Ariana Grande: 46 - 44 � 45
Round 6:
The bell rings for Round 6, and Ariana is still shaky�but
there�s something in her eyes.
Desperation. Fire. Malice.
Dove marches forward like a machine�intent on finishing what she
started in Round 4. Ariana backpedals fast, ducking under a hook
and trying to circle out. Dove cuts her off and swings for the
ribs�
BAM! Ariana leaps up and drives her knee square into Dove�s
groin.
Dove lets out a strangled shriek, her gloves dropping, knees
buckling as she stumbles forward and collapses to the canvas,
curled around herself in agony.
The ref�on the wrong side�didn�t see it. He waves it off as a
clean knockdown.
�KNOCKDOWN!�
The crowd explodes in confusion. Ariana skips to the neutral
corner with an innocent shrug, wiping blood from her lip and
adjusting her shorts.
Dove�s corner is furious, screaming and pounding the apron, but
the ref�s count goes on.
�One! Two! Three!�
Dove groans, grabbing the middle rope.
�Four! Five!�
She hauls herself up, legs shaking, one glove still covering her
aching core.
�Six� Seven� Eight!�
She�s up�but just barely. The ref gives her a long look, then
waves Ariana back in.
And now Ariana strikes like lightning.
Jab�jab�jab�jab!
She peppers Dove�s face with piston-like lefts, each snapping
the blonde�s head back. Dove�s guard is slow, her balance worse.
Ariana darts in and out, gloves flying, crowd roaring louder
with every combo.
Then comes the venom.
BOOM! A jab right into Dove�s breast. Then a right uppercut to
the left breast. THWACK! Another uppercut, this time straight
under the right one. Dove yelps, staggering into the ropes.
Ariana unloads a flurry of hooks, crosses, and uppercuts all
aimed at Dove's now tender breasts.
The ref jumps in�standing eight count!
Dove sways in place, mouth hanging open, sweat dripping down her
chest and arms. Ariana bounces in place, ready to pounce.
The fight resumes�and now Ariana owns the ring and she now owns
Dove.
She dances forward, mocking Dove. �How�s that chest feel,
princess?� she smirks, sending another jab right into the left
mound. Dove winces, biting back a scream.
But the pain unlocks something.
Rage.
Dove ROARS and explodes forward, teeth gritted, arms swinging
wide. She barrels into Ariana, driving her backward into the
corner with a thudding left-right combo to the body.
BAM! BAM!
Ariana�s eyes go wide�surprised at the sudden surge. Dove pins
her and goes wild, burying punches in Ariana�s belly and breasts
like she�s trying to cave them in.
�HOW DO YOU LIKE IT?� Dove bellows, slamming another fist into
Ariana�s heaving chest.
The ref rushes in�standing eight for Ariana!
Ariana gasps for air, clutching her side as the ref checks her
out. She nods, insists she�s okay, but Dove�s fury has rattled
her.
The round isn�t done.
They meet in the middle�and now it�s pure chaos.
Fists fly. Hair snaps back. Blood flicks from lips. They
exchange brutal hooks, uppercuts, slaps to the chest, and cruel
body shots. Neither of them backs down. They�re snarling,
grunting, and punching past all pain and pride.
Ten seconds left.
SMACK�CRACK�POP!
The crowd is on its feet, screaming.
And still�they don�t stop.
Even as the bell rings, they keep swinging. A jab from Ariana, a
hook from Dove, another uppercut�and finally, the ref has to
physically shove them apart.
Both stumble back to their corners�battered, panting, and soaked
in sweat.
But Ariana is smiling again.
UNOFFICIAL SCORECARD � ROUND 6
Judge 1: 9-8 Ariana Grande
Judge 2: 9-8 Ariana Grande
Judge 3: 9-7 Ariana Grande
Official Decision:
The bell had rung, the round was over, and both women looked
like they'd just crawled out of a warzone.
Ariana leaned against her corner post, chest heaving, sweat
pouring from her brow, gloves dangling low. Her lips were split,
her breasts bruised, and her arms barely lifted between
breaths�but her eyes still sparkled. She knew what she�d done
that round.
Dove, across the ring, was kneeling as her team poured water
over her head and massaged her throbbing thighs and ribs. Her
left eye was swollen halfway shut. Her breasts bore angry red
welts, and her face was a pale mask of pain and exhaustion.
Still, she was sitting upright, jaw clenched, staring daggers
across the ring.
The ref stood in the center with his hand out, waiting for the
final scores.
But the judges weren�t ready.
Not even close.
At ringside, three men huddled, holding the scorecards like
sacred relics. Judge 1 jabbed his finger at the paper, shaking
his head. Judge 2 crossed his arms and leaned back, visibly
disagreeing. Judge 3 tapped his pen again and again against the
table, muttering.
The crowd began to murmur, the arena thick with tension.
The ring announcer approached, mic in hand, ready to read the
result�but Judge 1 yanked the scorecard back, shaking his head
again. The ref looked annoyed. Officials came over to hurry the
process, but the judges were locked in an intense, animated
debate.
The crowd started to chant.
�DOVE! DOVE! DOVE!� �GRANDE! GRANDE!�
Back and forth, tribal and primal.
Another minute passed.
Finally, Judge 3 slapped his card down, nodding once. Judge 2
followed, begrudgingly scribbling something final and handing it
to the ref.
But just as the ref reached for it�Judge 1 pulled it back again,
shouting over the noise. The ring announcer threw his arms up,
and even Dove�s trainer was pacing outside the ropes, gesturing
furiously at the delay.
Dove and Ariana were both on their feet now, breathing hard.
Neither could stand straight, but neither looked ready to
concede anything.
Finally�after what felt like an hour�Judge 1 scribbled one last
correction, initialed it, and slapped the card into the ref�s
palm.
The ref turned. Walked to the center of the ring.
The announcer stepped forward. The crowd fell to dead silence.
You could hear the heavy breathing of both fighters from the
third row.
�And after six rounds of brutal action� we go to the judges�
scorecards.�
The whole arena leaned in. After 6 rounds of insane action.
�Judge 1 scores the round 55-54� Ariana Grande.�
Ariana's fans scream as she raises her hand,
�Judge 2 scores it 56-53� Dove Cameron.�
The other half of the crowd explodes
�And Judge 3 scores the round 56-54� for your winner by
decision��
Now you can hear a in drop as everyone is holding their breaths
and Ariana raises her hand and is about to celebrate. . . . .
Declaring the winner by split decision�Dove Cameron!
Post Fight:
Dove threw her arms into the air triumphantly, sweat-slicked,
jaw clenched with satisfaction. Half the crowd roared in
support, but the other half rose in fury, raining down boos as
if they could erase the verdict with volume. Dove drank it in,
letting it roll over her like a champion bathed in fire.
Then�perhaps in an act of sportsmanship, or defiance�she
extended her glove toward Ariana.
Ariana glared, then slapped the offered hand aside with a snarl
and stormed past her. She stalked to the ropes, leaned over, and
pointed directly at the judges� table.
�Are you f$cking BLIND!?� she shrieked, her voice raw with
disbelief. �Look at her! She knows she lost! Everyone knows she
lost!�
She whipped her arms out wide, gesturing toward the booing
sections of the crowd. �You all saw it! I landed more! I dropped
her!�
"f$ck!f$ck!� Ariana screamed again, smashing her gloves into the
ropes in frustration.
Dove just stood in the center of the ring, arms folded now,
unmoved, letting Ariana unravel.
A chant began to build in the arena, rising from Ariana�s
furious fan section:
�Recount! Recount! Recount!�
Ariana turned and raised her arms to them like a rebellion�s
queen. �You KNOW I won that damn fight!� she shouted, her voice
breaking.
Meanwhile, Dove stepped onto the middle rope, raising a single
fist high as if daring them all to deny her. She hadn�t just
fought Ariana tonight�she�d fought perception, memory, and a
smirking ghost from the cage. And she�d won.
Even if half the arena refused to accept it.
Post-Fight Interview � The Disney Princesses Locker Room
The camera cut to Dove Cameron�s locker room just minutes after
her split decision victory over Ariana Grande. The scene was
raw�sweat still glistening on her skin, her gloves half-peeled,
a towel draped over her shoulders like a battle-worn cape.
Despite the chaos in the arena, Dove wore a look of cool
satisfaction, the kind only earned in a brutal, hard-won war.
A reporter leaned in, microphone raised. �Dove, congratulations
on the win. Split decision�how close did it feel in there to
you?�
Dove didn�t hesitate. She shook her head and offered a dry
chuckle. �You know what? It really wasn�t that close. I mean,
credit where it�s due�Ariana�s faster than hell. I knew that
going in. Took me a couple rounds to adjust to her rhythm, yeah.
But once I found it? I had her. Without those low blows, I beat
her clean. Easy.�
The reporter raised an eyebrow. �Let�s talk about that. You
looked visibly upset when Ariana started targeting your breasts.
One of those punches led to a standing eight count from the ref.
Was that the turning point?�
Dove�s face hardened slightly. �She caught me clean once, I�ll
give her that. Hit me square in the left breast with a quick
cross. Stung, yeah. But that standing eight? That was weak. I
wasn�t rocked,no doubt about it but hurt enough for a standing
eight? Absolutely not. �
She leaned forward slightly, voice sharper now. �Let�s be
real�she was throwing everything. And I mean everything. Knees,
low blows, borderline rabbit punches. She wanted that win so
bad, she didn�t care if it was clean. You saw it. She aimed low
twice. First one hit the panty line�okay, whatever, close call.
Second one? Blatant. Her knee crushed me hard.�
The reporter nodded slowly. �And yet the ref let it continue.�
�Exactly,� Dove snapped. �So what are the rules then? If it�s
legal to knee me in the crotch, then fine�say that. But don�t
tell me afterward that it�s a fair fight when I�m dealing with
that kind of garbage. That�s the ref's job,� she added, looking
dead into the camera, �ref�s job�to stop that crap before it
flips the fight. Ariana just plays the innocent little girl but
she's a dirty little ****. Always has been, always will be.�
She sat back, flexing her fingers, wincing slightly as the
trainer pressed ice to her side. �But that�s the difference,
isn�t it? I didn�t have to cheat to win. I didn�t panic and
start throwing illegal shots when I couldn�t land. I stayed
sharp. I stayed clean. I didn't stoop to her level and get
dragged into the gutter. And you know what? I still walked out
with the win.�
The reporter ventured carefully, �Ariana�s accusing the judges
of being blind. That you knew you lost.�
Dove smirked. �Yeah, I heard. She�s still crying like a little
baby, isn�t she? You�d think with all that speed, she�d have
sprinted out of the building by now. I knew I won the second the
final bell rang. You don�t need to scream for a recount when you
actually got dominated. Let her cry about it�me? I�m on to the
finals.�
�Any idea who you'll be fighting?�
�Your guess is as good as mine. We're gong to see when the
blindfolds are removed.�
Post-Fight Interview � The Lost Wildcat Locker Room
The camera caught chaos the moment it entered Ariana Grande�s
locker room. The tiny pop queen�her gloves ripped off and tossed
across the floor�was pacing furiously in a storm of anger, her
hair frizzed with sweat, her face red, her bare chest heaving.
Her team gave her space, no one daring to calm her as the
reporter stepped in, mic raised cautiously like a shield.
Ariana turned on them instantly, voice already at a fever pitch.
�Oh, boo-f$cking-hoo!� she snarled, flinging a towel to the
ground. �I maybe hit her low? Grow a pair and nut up, Dammit!
This is boxing, not frickin patty cakes.�
The reporter blinked but kept going. �Ariana, it was a split
decision��
�SPLIT!?� she roared, stomping toward the mic, her finger
jabbing into the air like a dagger. �I KICKED HER ASS! I beat
her **** ass in the cage and I beat her in the ring, and what do
I get? Another rigged-ass decision handed to the princess from
Disneyland!�
She practically spat the next words. �I guess all that Disney
money finds its way to the judges� pockets. Who the h#ll knew
the mouse had this much pull in Vegas!?�
She threw her arms up and shouted toward the ceiling. �This is a
goddamn outrage! I beat her! I BEAT HER! You saw it.�
The reporter tried to inject some balance, hesitating. �Maybe
not every judge saw it that way��
Ariana froze, then turned slowly with fire in her eyes. �WHAT?�
she asked, low and dangerous. �Are you seriously trying to tell
me I didn�t win that fight?�
The reporter tried again, �I mean, look at the scorecards��
Ariana snapped.
�Look at the God Damm scorecards!?� she screamed, snatching a
crumpled copy from her team�s bench and thrusting it into the
camera. �Right here! I out-hit her in every round! EVERY.
f$cking. ROUND. I was faster, cleaner, sharper. I dropped her in
the second then again in the sixth. I ran circles around her
pathetic ass the entire fight! She was swinging wild and gasping
by Round 6 like a drunk brawler!�
�She needed that low blow break just to survive, and I STILL
kept the pressure on her.�
She turned to the wall and slammed her fist into the locker
door. BANG. �What do I gotta do�kill her to get a damn win!?�
One of her coaches approached carefully. �Ari��
�Don�t �Ari� me! Not now!� she snapped, turning away. �Dove�s
out there celebrating like she earned it. Please. She was
covering up and backing up. The ref practically gave her a
pillow and blankie every time she got touched in those oh so
perfect **** of hers. Next time I'll flatten them like pancakes
and **** rip them right off!�
She pointed to the reporter again. �They want to paint me as the
villain? Fine. I�ll BE the **** villain. But don�t you dare say
I didn�t win that damm fight. I OWNED Dove. I outclassed her.
I�m sick of this Disney pageant-show BS where the plastic face
wins.�
Ariana dropped into the bench, elbows on knees, still seething.
�This ain�t over. Not even close,� she hissed, barely above a
whisper. �If she wants to lace em' up again
I'll be all over her. No judges. No refs. Just the two of us?
I�ll finish what I started. I�ll make sure there�s no one left
to raise her hand. Sh!t! I'll do it right this second if the
fragile little Disney Princess wants but I think we all know the
answer.�
She looked up, eyes blazing. �Tell Dove: next time, it's in the
UCC cage and I'm so kicking her ass AGAIN!�
Written by the Badass Barbies.
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