You wish for a Cheerleader

In a blink of reality, the cheerleader from the screen is standing in your living room, mid cheer.

She is a tall, thin blonde, an athletic looking girl with a pair of bountiful beauties carefully contained in a sheer white cut off tank top. Her skin is biologically flawless, with a smooth and taut tummy leading to a white skirt and the longest legs you have had the pleasure to see. Her face is of youthfully beauty, with lips and eyes that could kill with the proper stare, accompanied by cheeks of aristocratic sharpness.

She lands on her feet posing, her eyes devolving into confusion as she realizes she is no longer in a cheering football stadium. The Announcers on the Telly do as well, but you correct that with a single quick wish.

"Who the hell are you?" She asks, slightly panicked of her new surroundings.