Post by Carmen Rivera on May 6, 2012 3:31:06 GMT -4
• [ A GIRL LIKE ME WILL BRING YOU TO YOUR
KNEES CAUSE THAT'S WHAT BAD GIRLS DO! ] •
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This scene found itself coming to life in the back of a yellow Taxi cab heading through Lexington, Kentucky. The residential seductress from San Diego glances out the window of the cab, a thoroughly unimpressed look on her face as she took in the cityscape. The cab driver is your typical, salty, cantankerous type. However, for once, he’s in the same company as Carmen glanced out the window, while doing her best not to touch it. The femme fetale wore a pair of designer, hip hugging jeans with a Ramones shirt that has clearly lost the battle with a pair of scissors, baring a few inches of her trim tummy and tattooed back and sides, her abundant cleavage, as well as her shoulders and the length of each of her tattooed arms. Her long, dark tresses are highlighted with honey-colored streaks. Carmen scoffed, thinking out loud.
CARMEN RIVERA: People actually live in this dump? Oh my god, I would have considered it more of a toxic waste facility than inhabited space.
TAXI DRIVER: The only thing worse than living here is shuttling the townies around.
His response was very salty and cruel. Carmen snickered, her arms folding underneath her chest, responding in the coldest tone that she could manage to muster.
CARMEN RIVERA: I am NOT a townie. I have never been here! Though, I don’t think I was missing much, obviously.
TAXI DRIVER: Well then, what has you here?
Judging by the look on his face, which Carmen could see in the rearview mirror, he didn’t really care. If anything, her answer would be used as nothing more than a void to fill the silence that the car carried. But, if it stops Carmen from having to stare at the dreary, depressing, view of Lexington, full of Kentucky Derby idiots at this time of year, and allowed Carmen to talk about herself? She’d take the opportunity. After all, she was her favorite subject.
CARMEN RIVERA: Wrestling match. You would think everyone in this po’dunk paradise would be completely in love with ‘rasslin!’ People tend to have an overwhelming desire to be completely fascinated with things they’ll never be, after all. Most aspire to be famous, while having no talent. Some aspire to be rich, but have no drive. The list goes on ...
TAXI DRIVER: You don’t expect me to believe that you are actually going to be in a wrestlin’ match, do you? Call me crazy, but it doesn’t look like your thing.
CARMEN RIVERA: And here I was, thinking that people didn’t live in caves unless they were bearded and wore turbans.
She gave her eyes a roll of complete disdain. This happened far too often. People underestimated Carmen constantly, thinking that she was nothing more than just a pretty face. There was no doubt that that old geezer, Bulk, was going to think the exact same thing. He was definitely old enough to be from a day and era before political correctness existed. Hell, he was old enough to be there for the parting of the Red Sea. The chance that he would see Carmen, or any woman for that matter, on his level, was slim and none.
TAXI DRIVER: Okay. I’ll bite. You’re in a wrestlin’ match. Is there a pool of jell-o or pudding involved?
CARMEN RIVERA: You’ll likely find my opponent prowling around one after the match, after popping a little blue pill that is. He’s some old man whose sole purpose for being in the company should be affording the hair plugs he desperately needs but ultimately, refuses to get. Or, even better yet, shirts with sleeves, because nobody wants to see his flabby arms out and about on the town.
TAXI DRIVER: So you’re wrestling a man, and you expect me to buy that it doesn’t involve some sort of a skimpy two pieces in a pool of jell-o? I don’t buy it.
Leave it to someone from Kentucky to be so small minded, Carmen thought to herself with a look of disgust on her face. Finally, the car had come to a stop at Carmen’s chosen destination: The Rupp Arena. She reached for her car door, which received a dirty look from the driver.
TAXI DRIVER: Hey! You pay me!
CARMEN RIVERA: I will, trust me. My boss is actually funding this trip. Let me get my money from him and I’ll run it right out to you. Scout’s honor.
If Carmen had anything ever working in her favor, it was her deceivingly cherubic face. She had this capability to look as innocent as they get, despite being the furthest thing from just that. Carmen grabbed her duffle bag from the floorboard, sliding it over her shoulder as she opened up the door and headed into the Rupp Arena, a bit slowly to make it seem as unsuspecting as she possibly could. She went into the arena and closed the door behind herself. Little did the Taxi Driver know, Carmen had no intentions of coming out, the money hungry beauty having no plans to spend a single dime on him. This scene drew to a close.
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“Well, that didn’t take long!” We can hear the voice of our favorite bad girl, Carmen Rivera, practically narrorating about her own life with a grin on her face. She has changed from her street gear to her ring gear, which for this coming up edition of Meltdown, her debut, would consist of a metallic, silver top with the cups of a sparkly, black bra attempting to peek out, with low-clinging metallic silver tights, and black, fuzzy boots to cut off her toned, but short legs. Her long hair is straightened and the front pieces are pulled out of her face. Her hands, each donning a fishnet, fingerless glove, clasp together and a proud look is on her face.
CARMEN RIVERA: From wrestling in gyms and in the dark matches one week, to impressing the ‘big guys in charge’ and now making my first ever appearance on Meltdown, first-EVER history making stuff right here, it took absolutely NO time whatsoever to get here. The reason for that is simply because I am what I say I am: simply great. As for that joke of an opponent of mine, Bulk Rogaine? Well, I would like to think that he’s here as for nothing more than just the pity that this company takes on old folks. Though, I gotta’ say, if this is the way that his nurses approve for him to spend his time between naps, he should look for a new senior citizens center. More importantly, just because he might have been tight with Jesus back in the day? He should NOT underestimate me. That is the single biggest mistake he can make, and something tells me that I will wind up beating the message into that blinding chrome dome.
Carmen stretched her tattooed arms out, popping the knuckles in her fingers and then rolling her neck as she walked down the hallway. Everything about her was flash, and it was even indicated by the sheer swagger in her step. There was nothing about her that didn’t scream ‘fierce’ and ‘attitude.’
CARMEN RIVERA: Bulk is a walking joke, and the worst part is that he’s his own punchline. And it isn’t just the obvious facts: he’s old, he’s bald, but it’s his actual wrestling style to take into account. Personal opinions of me aside, I am not stupid. I have NEVER gone into a fight unprepared a day in my life, because I have a LOT to fight for.
She gestured to her body with her fishnet-clad hands, and then proceeded to smirk.
CARMEN RIVERA: You don’t walk into a match with a raging psychopath with a body like this without some form of protection. If I want to keep these looks, you bet your ass I always have a game plan. And with that being said, obviously, I don’t take Bulk for much of a threat. He’s a man whose biggest move is dropping his decrepit, Osteoporotic leg on you and the biggest fear isn’t him breaking your neck or him breaking one of his own bones: it’s the horrible thought of one of his saggy balls hitting you in the face as a detour on its journey to the floor! I could outwrestle him on my first day of training, compared to his best day forty years ago. He is NOTHING, and he never has been. But, clearly Alzheimer’s has kicked in, there’s some sort of memory issues going on. For some reason, he thinks he belongs in the ring. Hell, he probably thinks he has a talented bone in his body that hasn’t lost every last bit of density to its name yet. If he wants to believe he’s a wrestler? I have absolutely no problem putting him in his place.
A snarky grin had found its way onto Carmen’s face, as she continued her journey down the hall. It was then that she found her desired location: hair and wardrobe. Smiling contentedly, she ran her palm along the frame of the door.
CARMEN RIVERA: So, to answer any resolving questions? I am NOT intimidated by the idea of facing a man who’s been wrestling so long that his first body slammed was on a Dinosaur, and improperly delivered I might add. I am NOT going to respect my elders when they don’t deserve it. And most importantly? I will not lose. I am the fastest rising star that this company has to offer, and I don’t call myself that because it’ll look good sewn on a T-Shirt. I call myself that because it’s the truth, a truth I believe with every single fiber of my being! I didn’t come this far to lose, and I certainly didn’t come this far to allow myself to be made a joke of by a man who is a joke. You won’t run wild on me, I’m not your ‘brother’ or your ‘dude’, and you have a snowball’s chance in hell of actually walking out of this match as the victor. I won’t even worry about breaking a nail, papi.
Smirking, she headed through the threshold and then pushed the door closed behind herself. For someone who was as completely focused on vanity and beauty as Carmen, this job didn’t seem the best fit, but it was definitely the one that worked for someone like Carmen, with her hatred for most of the world around her, especially the members whose existence didn’t offer her anything. The Bulkster’s existence didn’t offer her anything aside from a few laughs on a night where nothing else was on TV. This scene drew to a close as we panned away from the golden ‘wardrobe’ plaque on the door.[/size][/font][/ul]
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