Some bitch-ass whackamole with a bitch's ass

As Romona finished her wind-up, she was reminded of a carnival game she'd played when she was younger, where you hit a big button with your hammer and watch a bell go up. She'd never been that good at it, more due to a lack of confidence than actual strength. These days, if it involved a high score, she was probably a pro at it-- she'd aced that same game many times over by this point. Treating it the same way, she pictured Julie's butt as a big button, begging to be whacked by her hammer.

"I mean... nobody could really resist, could they?" Ramona asked, looking back at the audience to see if anyone was judging her. No one seemed to be. "It's not a gender thing or a sexuality thing. I'm just saying, if you see a girl's butt sticking out of a wall, you want to do something to it. Is that weird?" Everyone shook their heads to ensure her that those feelings were perfectly normal. "Okay. Cause I mean... It does feel like... wrong? But also kind of right. More like inevitable."

"I swear, I don't care about what you and fucking Scott Pilgrim do behind closed doors, whatever stuck in a washing machine porno shit you guys like to act out, but if you're about to fucking spank me? while I'm fucking embedded in some stranger's apartment? You are off of my guest list for the rest of your life, just like that shit-head loser-"

"Something like that," Ramona conceded, finally letting loose with her hammer.

The stone head of the hammer struck Julie straight on the ass, causing her legs to shoot out to either side and a generous ripple to shoot through her flesh. It exploded her outfit. That was the only word for it. The bunny-suit was obliterated, turning into shreds. The fish nets didn't just fray, they came apart like they were barely tied on, scattering in all directions. Whatever undergarments were under the thing were completely obliterated and the glasses on her face actually cracked from the reverberation of sheer power. She shot out of the hole and through several more walls, landing in a stranger's bath-tub with her limbs splayed. The broken faucet above her spilled water onto her head, dampening her ponytail, as her glasses tilted half off her face.

"Am I getting paid for any of these damages, oooor-?" one voice in the audience asked, the only guy here concerned about his apartment.

Literally everyone else in the street-- especially the cameramen-- followed Ramona inside the hole and into the small apartment, for a closer look at the damage. Ramona couldn't help but wince as she saw Julie in the tub. Her body was basically stripped bare now, with just a set of three black pasties covering her sensitive areas, one over each nipple and another over her pussy. With her legs spread that way, she was showing more of the spot between her thighs than was fit for any typical form of television. "Uuuh... Hey! Look on the bright side," Ramona attempted to soothe her friend, who was slowly rising from the tub with a look of fury on her face. "At least you shaved?"

"I fucking shaved because I was supposed to get a boyfriend tonight! I was not supposed to get fucking backshots from Thor's hammer and sent through three fucking walls!" Julie snapped, dripping wet and clenching her fists at her sides. Her hair, fallen out of its ponytail, matted damp over her eyes as she grit her teeth. "Forget fucking money, and fame, and whatever the hell else this was about. I am tired of fucking Scott Pilgrim's girlfriend walking around like she owns the place despite being, as I said: Scott Pilgrim's girlfriend!"

Ramona spun her hammer under-handed, then pointed it outward once again, tired of the uncalled-for insults. "I'm not just anybody's girlfriend, Jules. I'm more than that. But last I checked... you're not anybody's girlfriend, period."

"I am only single because all the boys in Toronto are fucking idiooots!" Julie Powers roared, raising both hands and pouncing like a wild animal. She leaped straight over the debris left behind from the earlier attack, reaching out her hands straight for Ramona's throat. Could strangulation cause clothing damage, even under these world-bending rules?

The cameras spun around, loving the intense angles, as the basically nude Julie Powers leaped with all four limbs spread. From this angle they could see everything: her bare ass, her nearly bare tits, and everything else you'd want to put on a Strip-a-thon DVD. It was unlikely Julie was really going to become the type of celebrity she wanted... but she'd become more notorious throughout Toronto after today, at least.

Roll 10!

Outfit durability: 5/28 (heart pasties on breasts, heart pastie over pussy, cracked glasses)