Sasha gives Alexa a taste of her own medicine.

Sasha looks down at her bra-clad breasts, then to Bliss and then to the crowd. Sasha, ever the crowd pleaser, points down at Alexa's heaving chest and pantomimes lifting up a shirt. The crowd responds with an enthusiastic cheer before breaking out with a "Yes!" chant. Banks, with a huge grin on her face, rolls Alexa over so she is face-down. Alexa, still in a semi-conscious state, merely groans, not even attempting to rise. Her plump booty jiggles as her body settles on the mat. Sasha licks her lips, her eyes focused on Alexa's top.

Bliss has, quite possibly, one of the most complicated tops in the Women’s roster. The two criss-cross straps that branch off of the shoulder straps and cross over her chest, then wrap behind Bliss' neck, appear to be impossible to rip. But, Sasha knows how to easily remove them. Grabbing a handful of blonde hair, Sasha lifts up Alexa's locks and, with a quick snap, unbuckles the snap enclosure where the criss-cross straps meet, leaving them hanging loose. Next, Sasha rolls Alexa onto her back and curls her fingers underneath the bottom band of Bliss' top. Banks knows that if she tries to quickly strip the tight top off, it would wake Alexa up from her stupor and she would fight back. Slow and steady wins the race.

With both hands grabbing under each side of the band, Sasha uses her hands to slowly peel one side at a time and begins stripping off Alexa's black and pink top. The crowd is in a frenzy, roaring in approval as Sasha continues pulling the top up, tugging it up Bliss' arms, revealing Alexa's tanned, petite breasts which are only covered by a black, lace-trimmed, push-up bra. Sasha continues working the top upwards until it is completely off. Banks triumphantly twirls the top over her head before tossing it into the crowd, causing a surge of men to dive onto the discarded garment.

Sasha drapes herself over Alexa's toned, petite body and pins Alexa's shoulders down. The referee dives down and counts, "One... Two..." Bliss, partially recovered, kicks her short legs out, breaking the pin attempt. Banks grabs Alexa's arm and jerks her up to her feet. Sasha, still holding Alexa by the arm, tries to spin around her and set her up for a straightjacket slam (aka Bankrupt) but Alexa lands a kick to Sasha's gut, sending the Boss stumbling backwards. Bliss prowls forward and lands a harsh knife-edge chop to her rival's breasts. The crowd responds with a Flair-like "Woooo!" as the sound of flesh colliding with flesh cracks through the arena.

Banks yelps in pain and takes a half-step back. Gritting her teeth, Sasha strides forward, whips her right arm back, and delivers an brutal knife-edge chop of her own, smacking her forearm and hand across Alexa's bra-clad breasts. The crowd once again responds with a "Woooo!" as the arena is filled with the sound of flesh colliding with flesh.

Bliss immediately drops to a knee. The pain was overwhelming. She didn't understand why the blow hurt so bad. She had been chopped before and, although it didn't feel good, she could normally withstand the pain. She couldn't fathom why this chop was so much more intense. That is until she reached down to massage her aching chest and discovered that, instead of feeling her trademark top, she felt her bare flesh. A cold chill ran down Alexa's spine and her eyes bulge out. "No," she whispers to herself before slowly gazing down. A shrill, high-pitched squeal bursts from the Goddess' mouth as she stares down at her heaving, sun-kissed, petite breasts, only covered by her bra.

Alexa's eyes dart from her breasts back up to Sasha. The purple-haired Boss is grinning from ear to ear, elated at the look of fear and shame on Bliss' bewildered face. At a moment like this, when someone is put into a stressful or dangerous situation, their adrenaline begins to pump and they react on instincts as opposed to logic. This reaction is called the fight or flight response. Alexa, realizing that she has been stripped of her top in front of thousands of cheering, perverted fans, is running on instincts alone.