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| #Post#: 5810-------------------------------------------------- | |
| Fight 04 Emma Myers vs Addison Rae | |
| By: BadAssBunnies Date: December 14, 2025, 2:26 pm | |
| --------------------------------------------------------- | |
| Emma Meyers vs Addison Rae | |
| https://i.imgur.com/FRIsrc2.png | |
| Weigh In | |
| Emma comes out cool and composed, black sports bra and shorts, | |
| chin high. She looks lean, sharp, and dialed in, the kind of | |
| fighter who did not cut weight�she trained to fight, not to | |
| starve. She steps on the scales and weighs in at 118.6 lbs. She | |
| flexes her arms just slightly for the cameras, showing off the | |
| definition in her shoulders and back, giving off a quiet | |
| confidence. No theatrics, just calm intensity. | |
| Addison emerges to louder cheers�huge social-media following�and | |
| she feeds the crowd a little smile before stripping down to her | |
| red bikini-style weigh-in gear. She looks stronger, thicker | |
| through the hips and shoulders, the more powerful puncher on | |
| paper. Her confidence is out of control as she looks at Emma | |
| then turns to her fans and start laughing. She steps on the | |
| scales and it comes to a rest at 119.8 lbs. Addison flexes then | |
| pats her toned abs. A quick biceps pose and the crowd reacts, | |
| and she grins as she steps off the scale. | |
| The Stare-Down | |
| They step to center stage. Nose-to-nose. No pushing. No shoving. | |
| No trash talk. Just a silent, freezing stare�the kind where you | |
| can feel two fighters measuring everything from breathing rhythm | |
| to eye movement. Addison�s slight smirk never leaves; Emma�s | |
| stare never blinks. The crowd roars as an official slips between | |
| them, raises their hands, and announces: | |
| �Tomorrow night�Emma Myers vs. Addison Rae!� | |
| They walk off opposite sides of the stage, both refusing to look | |
| away until the very last second. | |
| Walkouts: | |
| The arena lights dim. The crowd surges to its feet as the | |
| opening notes hit the speakers. A single spotlight hits the | |
| tunnel. Emma steps out in a dark blue robe trimmed in silver, | |
| hood up, head bowed. Her theme is a low, pulsing beat�nothing | |
| flashy, just a cold, steady rhythm that matches her footwork. | |
| She doesn�t play to the crowd. She doesn�t smile. She walks | |
| straight, chin forward, eyes locked on the ring as if nothing | |
| else exists. Her hands flex at her sides with each step�calm, | |
| but ready to detonate. At ringside she removes the robe, | |
| revealing navy shorts, her name stitched in white. She bounces | |
| once, twice, shakes out her arms, rolls her neck. Zero emotion. | |
| Zero nerves. | |
| She enters the ring and stands in her corner, hands resting on | |
| the top ropes, breathing slow and steady like she�s about to | |
| start a sprint she�s trained for her whole life. | |
| The crowd POPS as Addison walkout track hits�a heavy remix with | |
| a deep bass line. Addison appears at the top of the ramp in a | |
| glitter-white robe that sparkles under the lights. She lifts | |
| both arms high, smiling wide, soaking in every cheer like it | |
| fuels her. She struts the first few steps, then breaks into a | |
| confident, springy bounce�showing perfect rhythm, hips loose, | |
| shoulders relaxed. A natural performer. | |
| At the bottom of the ramp she pulls her gumshield from her | |
| pocket, slides it in with a grin, then tears off the robe in one | |
| clean motion. Her fight gear: revealing white top, tight white | |
| shorts with holographic trim. She jumps, shadowboxes, pops a | |
| jab-jab-hook that gets a wave of cheers from the front rows. She | |
| enters the ring, circles once, then stops dead in front of Emma. | |
| They stare. No smile from Emma. No backing down from Addison. | |
| The tension is thick enough to touch. Addison nods her head as | |
| she mouths some silent taunts but it's clear that Emma is not | |
| the least bit intimidated. | |
| ROUND 1 | |
| The bell cracks through the arena and both women sprint out like | |
| they�ve been waiting their whole lives for this. Emma shoots | |
| forward first, fast and sharp, snapping out a trio of jabs that | |
| whistle through the air before Addison can even set her feet. | |
| Two of them smack right into Addison�s face, the last one | |
| catching her square on the nose and forcing an early grunt out | |
| of her. But Addison barely flinches�she takes a half-step inside | |
| and slams a brutal left hook deep into Emma�s ribs. | |
| The sound is ugly and a pink glove mark remains on her side. The | |
| reaction is immediate. Emma winces, folding just an inch, and | |
| Addison barrels in with another heavy hook, then a straight | |
| right that thuds off Emma�s guard hard enough to make her foot | |
| scrape backward across the canvas. But Emma refuses to get | |
| bullied especially by Addison. She angles out, light on her | |
| toes, and darts forward with a blur of punches�jab, jab, cross, | |
| hook, cross. Addison blocks most of it but the last cross sneaks | |
| through and snaps her head aside, opening a thin trickle of | |
| blood from the corner of her nostril. | |
| Addison wipes the blood with the back of her glove, smirks, and | |
| storms forward. She slams a body shot into Emma�s hip, then | |
| another into her stomach, driving her toward the ropes. Emma | |
| clinches, breathing sharp, but Addison shoves her and tries to | |
| keep punching inside until the ref gets between them. | |
| Back in the center, Emma turns the tide again�quick feint, step | |
| right, and a lightning-fast straight punch lands dead on | |
| Addison�s nose. Blood sprays clearly this time, and the crowd | |
| erupts. Addison�s response is thunderous. A looping right hook | |
| crashes into Emma�s temple and staggers her sideways. Emma�s | |
| legs wobble�just for a heartbeat�before she recovers and fires | |
| back with a furious flurry of punches that Addison answers with | |
| one of her own. | |
| In the final ten seconds they�re toe-to-toe, swinging, trading, | |
| landing, refusing to blink or back away. Addison lands a sharp | |
| uppercut but Emma is unfazed and unloads a a five punch combo, a | |
| double jab to the chin, a cross to the cheek, then a left-right | |
| both landing on the bridge of Addison's red nose. | |
| The bell rings� they throw one more punch each before the ref | |
| physically steps in and shoves them apart. The arena is shaking | |
| as everyone is on their feet. With the late flurry Emma steals | |
| the round. Emma heads to her corner as a clearly upset Addison | |
| is jawing with the ref claiming a late shot. | |
| Score: Emma 10 � Addison 9 | |
| Running Total: Emma 10 � Addison 9 | |
| ROUND 2 | |
| The bell rings and Addison charges out like she�s trying to | |
| erase Round 1 from memory. She swings big�wide hook, another, | |
| then a looping right meant to crack Emma across the jaw. Addison | |
| nods as she stalks Emma down but Emma�s not there for any of it. | |
| She slides back just an inch, then another, cool and sharp, | |
| letting Addison�s punches cut through empty space. And the | |
| moment Addison overextends, Emma stabs a jab straight down the | |
| center line. | |
| POP. | |
| Addison�s head jerks back. Another jab. And another. Emma�s | |
| reach is dialed in perfectly now�Addison can�t get close without | |
| eating leather. Every time she tries to bulldoze inside, Emma�s | |
| glove snaps out like a piston and cracks her in the face again | |
| and again. The crowd starts to react with every single jab. | |
| Addison�s nose is bleeding once again, swelling slightly, and | |
| she keeps snorting bloody air through it, trying to stay | |
| aggressive. She finally manages to slip one jab and digs a nasty | |
| hook into Emma�s midsection, but Emma absorbs it, pivots out, | |
| and punishes her instantly�two stiff jabs and a slicing cross | |
| that snaps Addison�s head sideways. Addison staggers, blinking, | |
| breathing harder than she wants to show. Emma is feeling it. She | |
| steps in with confidence, punching in crisp combinations�jab, | |
| jab, right cross; jab, hook, jab. The accuracy is brutal. | |
| Addison can�t fully block anything because the punches are | |
| arriving too fast and too straight. | |
| Mid-round, Addison lunges again out of pure frustration and Emma | |
| picks her off clean, a perfect jab smashing straight into the | |
| bridge of her nose. Blood sprays downward across Addison�s lips | |
| and chin. She snarls, wipes it, and attacks again, but she�s | |
| getting busted up now. Emma�s reach is the whole story of the | |
| round�Addison keeps walking into the end of those long, | |
| punishing shots, her face reddening, swelling, and leaking with | |
| every exchange. | |
| The final thirty seconds, Addison grits her teeth and tries to | |
| brawl, swinging wild to force her way inside. She lands a decent | |
| right to Emma�s cheek�but Emma answers with a four-punch volley | |
| that sends Addison stumbling to the ropes just as the bell | |
| rings. The ref steps between them before Addison can launch one | |
| last frustrated punch. | |
| Emma walks to her corner calm and composed. Addison walks to | |
| hers with her face busted up and bleeding. | |
| Score: Emma 10 � Addison 9 Running | |
| Total: Emma 20 � Addison 18 | |
| ROUND 3 | |
| Addison�s corner is animated, practically in her face between | |
| rounds. �Move your damn feet. Get inside. Don�t stand at the end | |
| of her jab! She's eating you for lunch!� And she listens. | |
| When the bell rings, Addison doesn�t rush recklessly this time. | |
| She circles, dips her head, gives Emma different angles�not | |
| letting herself be a stationary target again. Emma flicks out | |
| her jab immediately, testing range, but Addison slips under it | |
| and finally gets inside without taking a clean shot. | |
| She slams a hook into Emma�s ribs. Then another. Then a short | |
| uppercut grazes Emma�s chin as they tangle up chest-to-shoulder. | |
| It�s exactly what Addison needed. Another punch to the left | |
| breast forces Emma to take a few steps back. Addison waves her | |
| back in her nodding as she steps forward trying to bully Emma. | |
| But Emma isn�t just letting her bully in close. She tightens her | |
| guard, shifts her hips, and fires a sharp counter uppercut that | |
| snaps Addison�s head up. Addison grunts but refuses to release | |
| the pressure�she digs at Emma�s midsection with heavy body | |
| shots, trying to slow her down. | |
| The crowd roars as the round becomes a grinding phone-booth | |
| battle. This is exactly where Addison want the fight, in close | |
| where she can work the body. Emma pushes off, resets, and tries | |
| to reclaim long range. She lands two crisp jabs, reopening the | |
| blood on Addison�s nose and drawing a small gasp from the crowd. | |
| Addison�s face is already marked up, swelling along the nose and | |
| cheeks, but she shakes it off and surges inside again, slipping | |
| low and ramming a hook into Emma�s side that forces the taller | |
| woman to bend. | |
| It�s a much closer round�Addison�s pressure vs. Emma�s accuracy. | |
| But halfway through, Addison gets overeager trying to maintain | |
| momentum. She slips a jab beautifully, steps in�and runs | |
| straight into a brutal right hand from Emma. Addison�s knees | |
| wobble. She staggers back, blinking through fresh blood, the hit | |
| visibly rattling her. Emma follows, jabbing her back toward the | |
| ropes, but Addison holds�catching Emma in a tight bearhug, | |
| making it messy until she can steady her legs. | |
| The fight slows only for a moment as Addison regroups, both | |
| women breathing harder now. Emma�s cheeks are reddened from the | |
| inside shots, while Addison�s face is a mess�nose bloodied | |
| again, swelling under both eyes. The final ten seconds are a | |
| wild exchange. Addison swings big to steal the round but again, | |
| Emma snaps her head back with a straight jab-cross combo right | |
| at the bell. They glare at each other as the ref wedges himself | |
| between them. Addison fought smarter, harder, and closer�but | |
| Emma�s cleaner shots and late round surge stole another round. | |
| Score: Emma 10 � Addison 9 | |
| Running Total: Emma 30 � Addison 27 | |
| Round 4 | |
| The moment the round begins, Emma steps forward and stands right | |
| in front of Addison, chin tucked, gloves high, giving her | |
| exactly the inside fight Addison�s corner had begged for. For | |
| one brief second Addison seems relieved�finally she�s not | |
| chasing anymore. But then reality hits her like a shovel to the | |
| ribs. Emma digs a thudding left hook to Addison�s body, the kind | |
| that lands with a hollow whump and makes the whole crowd wince. | |
| Addison�s mouth opens in a silent gasp as she folds an inch | |
| forward, and Emma is already throwing again�short, tight, | |
| vicious. | |
| Addison is lost as Emma is now beating her at her own game. A | |
| right hook to the ribs. A left uppercut under the guard. Another | |
| right buried deep into Addison�s toned abs. Addison tries to | |
| fire back, but every punch she throws gets smothered by Emma�s | |
| arms or beaten to the target by Emma�s faster inside shots. Emma | |
| looks calm, almost cruelly patient, just picking Addison apart | |
| from inches away. Then comes the punch that changes everything. | |
| Emma leans into a tight angle and drives a straight right | |
| uppercut directly into Addison�s belly button�clean, direct, | |
| perfectly timed. Addison�s eyes go wide as her breath explodes | |
| out of her. Her legs tremble, her gloves drop, and she falls to | |
| her knees, hugging her stomach, face twisted in pain. | |
| The referee starts counting while Addison folds over her gloves, | |
| her abs quivering as the shock ripples through her whole torso. | |
| She forces herself up at nine�shaky, hunched, eyes watering�but | |
| she�s up. The ref waves the fight on, and Emma calmly stalks | |
| her, ripping one more brutal hook into the body before Addison | |
| can clinch desperately to survive. Emma muscles her back to the | |
| ropes, pounding short ribs and stomach until the bell finally | |
| saves Addison. | |
| Addison stumbles back to her corner, one arm wrapped tight | |
| around her midsection as her corner spill over the ropes and are | |
| frantically trying to patch up their beaten fighter. Emma sits | |
| on her stool sucking on a chunk of ice while her corner towel | |
| her off and wipes Addison's blood off her gloves. | |
| Score: Emma 10 � Addison 8 Running | |
| Total: Emma 40 � Addison 35 | |
| Round 5 | |
| Addison sits on her stool doubled over, arms hugged tight around | |
| her ribs, gasping short, panicked breaths. Her eyes are glassy, | |
| unfocused. �I� I can�t breathe� I can�t� breathe�� she wheezes, | |
| voice trembling. Her corner grabs her face, forcing eye contact. | |
| �Addison, listen to me. Stand up. You have to get up.� | |
| She shakes her head weakly. Her body is shuddering. | |
| �Come on. Suck it up. Fight in close. Go to her body. Wear her | |
| down. You can do this.� | |
| She still looks terrified�until they snap open a vial of | |
| smelling salts under her nose. Addison jolts, blinking hard, and | |
| nods once. Not confidently� but resigned. She pushes up to her | |
| feet, wobbling, gloves hanging low. | |
| The bell rings and Addison does exactly what her corner told | |
| her. She storms forward and immediately swings a wide | |
| hook�desperate, messy, hopeful. But Emma is waiting. She dips | |
| low and rips a cruel, heavy left hook straight into Addison�s | |
| already battered midsection�deep, thudding, perfectly placed. An | |
| uppercut to the breasts and a thudding cross to the ribs and | |
| Addison�s mouth opens in a silent scream. Her knees buckle | |
| instantly. She drops. Hard. She collapses forward onto hands and | |
| knees, trembling violently, forehead nearly touching the canvas | |
| as she hugs her stomach battered body. She�s not even listening | |
| to the ref�she�s just trying not to vomit. | |
| The referee stands over her and begins the count anyway, | |
| confused. �Four� five� Addison, show me something!� She weakly | |
| shakes her head. Barely lifts one glove. | |
| And waves him off.Like she�s saying, No more. I�m done. | |
| The ref hesitates�this isn�t how fighters usually quit�but then | |
| continues the count. Addison never even tries to rise. At �TEN,� | |
| Emma throws her arms up, shouting in triumph as the arena | |
| erupts. | |
| Addison�s corner rushes in immediately. �Addison! Addison, talk | |
| to us�look at me!� But she�s rolled onto her side now, curled | |
| up, trembling. Her abs are spasming with every breath, her ribs | |
| a patchwork of deep violet bruises. When they try to lift her, | |
| she cries out and collapses again. The ringside doctor vaults | |
| through the ropes within seconds, waving medics over. �She can't | |
| get up,� her ribs may be broken.� A stretcher is brought in. | |
| Emma, arms raised, slowly lowers them as she looks back and sees | |
| Addison unable to stand. The fight is over, Addison�s body | |
| simply couldn�t take another second. | |
| Official Decision � Emma Myers wins by KO at 0:27 of Round 5 | |
| The arena dims slightly as the chaos dies down. Addison is still | |
| on the canvas, curled on her side, clutching her battered body. | |
| Her breathing is shallow and ragged. Two medics kneel beside | |
| her, one speaking urgently, the other checking her ribs and | |
| abdomen with practiced gentle pressure. She winces violently at | |
| even the lightest touch. | |
| Across the ring, Emma stands in her corner as they peel off her | |
| gloves. Her chest rising with controlled breaths�trying to | |
| celebrate, but her eyes keep drifting back to Addison, who still | |
| hasn�t moved beyond a weak shift of her legs. Bruce Buffer steps | |
| into the center, clearing his throat as the crowd quiets. His | |
| iconic voice booms: | |
| �Ladies and gentlemen� at twenty-seven seconds of Round Number | |
| Five � The Winner by KO due to body blows . . . . Emma Myers!� | |
| A murmur ripples through the crowd.The audience reacts with a | |
| mixture of confusion, disappointment, and concern. Before the | |
| crowd can digest it, the referee steps over to Emma. He lifts | |
| her wrist�Emma flinches, still watching Addison�but the ref | |
| raises her hand high anyway. | |
| Camera flashes erupt. But the focus shifts immediately back to | |
| Addison. Two more medics slide into the ring with a collapsible | |
| stretcher. Addison�s corner is frantic. �Addison, talk to us! | |
| What's wrong? Can you breathe?� She tries� her abdomen spasms | |
| instead. She grimaces in pain and arches slightly, both arms | |
| wrapping her stomach again. �Something�s wrong,� one medic | |
| mutters. | |
| They begin carefully stabilizing her torso, supporting her head, | |
| preparing to move her. Emma lowers her arm slowly, watching with | |
| genuine concern now. The celebration mood evaporates completely; | |
| even the crowd grows quiet, whispers replacing cheers. | |
| Post Fight Interview | |
| Addison is lifted carefully onto the stretcher as the crowd | |
| murmurs. Her arms are still wrapped around her midsection, and | |
| she can barely keep her eyes open. The medics guide her through | |
| the ropes while her corner trails behind, shouting updates and | |
| trying to clear a path. The arena lights dim slightly as | |
| attention shifts to the center of the ring, where Joe Rogan | |
| steps toward Emma, who�s just had her gloves removed. | |
| Joe raises the mic. �Emma� before anything else�it looks like | |
| Addison is hurt. Bad. You were right there. What did you see?� | |
| Emma wipes sweat from her brow, still breathing hard. �Yeah� | |
| she�s tough as nails. For her to refuse to fight? Something�s | |
| wrong. Maybe she isn�t used to getting **** to the body like | |
| that. Her abs are tight�something was bothering her earlier. You | |
| could see it as soon as she got up. I hope she�s okay.� | |
| Joe nods solemnly. �Well� enough about Addison. What a | |
| performance from you. Complete domination from the opening bell. | |
| What was your training like for this fight?� | |
| Emma cracks a tired smile. �Honestly? Katharine McPhee. Best | |
| boxer in the UCC, no question, and the best coach I�ve ever had. | |
| She put us through the gauntlet�sparring, conditioning, pressure | |
| drills� everything. I think the results showed tonight.� | |
| Joe steps closer, shifting the interview toward strategy. �Your | |
| jab controlled the fight early. Was that the plan going in?� | |
| �Yep,� Emma answers, �use my reach, keep her at the end of my | |
| punches, make her work for everything, Give nothing away.� | |
| �You switched the narrative and fought her game�inside�and | |
| that�s where you did the most damage. Why take that risk?� | |
| �Because Katharine taught me: dominate every range. Don�t let | |
| someone think you�re afraid of their strengths.� | |
| Joe fires off another. �When you landed that last body shot, did | |
| you know she was done?� | |
| �I felt it sink in,� Emma admits. �I knew she wasn�t getting | |
| up.� | |
| Joe steps in closer. �The Barbies came out fast, took the first | |
| two fights, and might�ve won the third if Audrey and Becky | |
| hadn�t exploded into that brawl. Just how important was this win | |
| for you and your team?� | |
| Emma pauses, visibly irritated. �Let me clear something up. | |
| Audrey may have been the underdog, but she can fight�and that | |
| matchup could�ve gone either way. As for the win, yeah, it was | |
| big. We needed it, no question. But with Katharine in our | |
| corner, all of us feel like we can step in there and take on | |
| anyone.� | |
| �Last question,� Joe says. �What�s next?� | |
| Emma exhales. �Whoever they put in front of me, in the cage and | |
| in the ring. I may not look like a fighter, but think my | |
| actions speak for themselves. After training with Katharine, I�m | |
| ready for anyone.� | |
| Losers Locker Room | |
| Erin Andrews waits outside the Badass Barbie Locker room until | |
| Kylie Jenner informs Erin that Addison suffered broken ribs and | |
| has been sent to the hospital for observations. | |
| ***************************************************** |