Post by Arcadia on Dec 7, 2008 20:12:18 GMT -4
The camera fades in to a shot of our resident Luchadora's ass. Don't worry folks, it's covered. She just happens to be walking in front of us and, frankly, what would you look at if Katrina "Arcadia" Olivetti had her back to you? She is shaking her head back and forth and chuckling slightly.
As she passes the vending machines, still not having turned around for the camera yet, the cameraman clears his throat to get her attention. He immediately ducks as a small, colorful, flying package comes towards his head. Katrina lands and straightens, looking apologetically toward the cameraman.
"Umm...I'm sorry. I didn't realize it was you." Her mood quickly shifts from sorry to annoyed. "Why would you try and startle me anyway? Don't you know you can get you head taken off that way?"
She puts her hands on her hips and her eyes flash sparks behind her mask as the cameraman sputters and stammers out an answer.
"It-it's n-not my f-f-fault. You're sup-p-posed to be shooting a p-p-promo right now."
Player One raises an eyebrow, completely puzzled by his behavior, and gently asks, "Are you okay? I really didn't mean to scare you."
The cameraman tries to compose himself but fails miserably. "W-well, you did ho-horrible things to Lively, and m-my cousin was on st-steroids and he would go b-b-b-berserk at the smallest thing, I-I-I just didn't want to m-make you angry."
By the end of this stuttering fool's ramble, the Hardcora Luchadora has her hands at her sides and her lip turned up in question. "What does your cousin have to do with this? You know, I think President Jeff offers employee councilling for stuff like that..."
It was now the cameraman's turn to look confused.
"No. I'm not upset by it. I just know what steroids can do to a person and...well...Katrina, I think you need help." He spilled this last out in a rush and scrunched his eyes in expectation of the blow.
When he opens his eyes Arcadia is still standing in front of him, dumbfounded. Her jaw is on the floor and the look in her eyes is one of shock.
"Wait a minute...You think I'm on Steroids?!" Player One bursts out when she is finally able to find her voice.
"Well, I just shot a promo for Michael Lively and he says-" The cameraman tries to explain.
Now Katrina recovers. She laughs. She throws her head back and laughs. She laughs so hard that she wraps her arms around her abdomen and holds her ribs. Tears start running down her mask. The cameraman shakes his head in pity at this woman, her quick mood changes obviously convincing him that Lively was indeed correct about her habit.
"Let me guess..." Arcadia says while trying to catch her breath. "The only reason I beat him was because I was cycling."
"Umm, well, something about that and your recent violation of the Wellness Policy."
The Hardcora Luchadora sighs and says, "I was gone because I was having a wardrobe malfunction. My mask ripped and I couldn't replace it. I am not now, nor have I ever been on steroids."
The cameraman sighs and puts a hand on Arcadia's shoulder. "The first step is admitting you have a problem. We will all support you."
Katrina "Arcadia" Olivetti looks pointedly at his hand resting on her arm and he removes it cautiously.
"Whatever. I'm not on drugs."
The cameraman answers, "Sure."
"Seriously!"
He simply looks at her with a concerned but supportive expression while Arcadia scowls at him and crosses her arms over her chest.
"Just roll your camera douchewad." Katrina grumbles and backs up a few steps before starting her rant.
"First I would like to say, Michael Lively, you're an asshole. Only one half of the Tag Team Champions, The Acts of God. I guess that makes you just the Act."
She scowls and composes herself. "Now. As for Carl Cage. I really don't even have to say anything to you. Your own promo said it all for me. How can you argue against something and then use that same argument for your own purpose?" She tosses her braid over her shoulder and puts a hand on her hip. "I'm not in the same weight class as you. Well, Carl, in case you haven't noticed, you're about the size of an extinct species of prehistoric ape. Most things at the zoo aren't in your wieght class."
She steeples her fingers and places them under her chin. "Now, if you had paid any attention to what you were saying in your own promo, That shouldn't matter to you. It certainly doesn't matter to me! You yourself spoke about how many giants and powerhouses fizzle out in this business. If anything, you have made me even more confident that I will bring this win home with me by reminding me of that fact. Because, you, Carl Cage, Mr. Essence of Egotism, are just another giant. Just one more powerhouse. And the rest of your line is already extinct. You are nothing more than a freak show attraction at this point. "The Last of His Kind", Carl Cage!"
Player One puts her hands up to her mouth like a circus ringmaster and whispers the screams of the crowd. She tilts her head and looks to the camera once more.
"And you have the same attributes G-d has. Jesus Fucking Christ am I tired of EVERYONE and their mother and their neighbor's pet hamster saying that they are G-d or G-d like or the Messiah! Is this really the last gimmick available in wrestling today?"
She puts her hands up in excitement and runs to the camera. "Oh, wait! I can come up with something more original!" She darts her eyes back and forth and whispers conspiratorially at the lens. "How about...A gourmet chef who needs to restock his meat freezer? Or...The Bowling Ball Champion? Or...An escapee from My Little Pony Mountain where the evil pony Thundercloud of Death was performing horrible experiments on you and made you sing, dance, and...duh-duh-DUH...be merry?"
She rolls her eyes and walks back a few steps again, slapping her hand against her hip in frustration. "You see, ANYTHING is better than ANOTHER person with a G-d Complex."
She shakes her head and sighs. "You know, I have been in matches with alot of wrestlers. Most have out-wieghed me by at least 100 pounds. You are nothing special. You will hit your one move and while you go for that pop from the crowd, taking your time, knowing I couldn't possibly get up after a move from a guy your size, you won't ever see me coming. I will stand up and fight. Again. And. Again. And I will wear you down. It doesn't matter how big you are. Not to me. I'll take your punches AND recover from them. And you will be too busy stroking your ego to realize I'm still here. I will make you realize. And you will wonder how you could have lost to a "blip" on the wrestling radar like me."
Katrina "Arcadia" Olivetti points her finger at the camera. "You say you haven't earned your reputation by losing to trash like me. Well, regardless of whether I'm trash or not, I'm NOT by the way," The Hardcora Luchadora clears her throat and laughs nervously at her outburst, "This is APW and your previous reputation means nothing here. Here, all you are is Unoriginal. Here, you are Almost Extinct. Here, you are all out of lives, and you don't have anymore tokens."
Arcadia's eyes spark as she adds for good measure to the cameraman, "And I am not on Steroids, G-d damn it!"
The camera fades out.
As she passes the vending machines, still not having turned around for the camera yet, the cameraman clears his throat to get her attention. He immediately ducks as a small, colorful, flying package comes towards his head. Katrina lands and straightens, looking apologetically toward the cameraman.
"Umm...I'm sorry. I didn't realize it was you." Her mood quickly shifts from sorry to annoyed. "Why would you try and startle me anyway? Don't you know you can get you head taken off that way?"
She puts her hands on her hips and her eyes flash sparks behind her mask as the cameraman sputters and stammers out an answer.
"It-it's n-not my f-f-fault. You're sup-p-posed to be shooting a p-p-promo right now."
Player One raises an eyebrow, completely puzzled by his behavior, and gently asks, "Are you okay? I really didn't mean to scare you."
The cameraman tries to compose himself but fails miserably. "W-well, you did ho-horrible things to Lively, and m-my cousin was on st-steroids and he would go b-b-b-berserk at the smallest thing, I-I-I just didn't want to m-make you angry."
By the end of this stuttering fool's ramble, the Hardcora Luchadora has her hands at her sides and her lip turned up in question. "What does your cousin have to do with this? You know, I think President Jeff offers employee councilling for stuff like that..."
It was now the cameraman's turn to look confused.
"No. I'm not upset by it. I just know what steroids can do to a person and...well...Katrina, I think you need help." He spilled this last out in a rush and scrunched his eyes in expectation of the blow.
When he opens his eyes Arcadia is still standing in front of him, dumbfounded. Her jaw is on the floor and the look in her eyes is one of shock.
"Wait a minute...You think I'm on Steroids?!" Player One bursts out when she is finally able to find her voice.
"Well, I just shot a promo for Michael Lively and he says-" The cameraman tries to explain.
Now Katrina recovers. She laughs. She throws her head back and laughs. She laughs so hard that she wraps her arms around her abdomen and holds her ribs. Tears start running down her mask. The cameraman shakes his head in pity at this woman, her quick mood changes obviously convincing him that Lively was indeed correct about her habit.
"Let me guess..." Arcadia says while trying to catch her breath. "The only reason I beat him was because I was cycling."
"Umm, well, something about that and your recent violation of the Wellness Policy."
The Hardcora Luchadora sighs and says, "I was gone because I was having a wardrobe malfunction. My mask ripped and I couldn't replace it. I am not now, nor have I ever been on steroids."
The cameraman sighs and puts a hand on Arcadia's shoulder. "The first step is admitting you have a problem. We will all support you."
Katrina "Arcadia" Olivetti looks pointedly at his hand resting on her arm and he removes it cautiously.
"Whatever. I'm not on drugs."
The cameraman answers, "Sure."
"Seriously!"
He simply looks at her with a concerned but supportive expression while Arcadia scowls at him and crosses her arms over her chest.
"Just roll your camera douchewad." Katrina grumbles and backs up a few steps before starting her rant.
"First I would like to say, Michael Lively, you're an asshole. Only one half of the Tag Team Champions, The Acts of God. I guess that makes you just the Act."
She scowls and composes herself. "Now. As for Carl Cage. I really don't even have to say anything to you. Your own promo said it all for me. How can you argue against something and then use that same argument for your own purpose?" She tosses her braid over her shoulder and puts a hand on her hip. "I'm not in the same weight class as you. Well, Carl, in case you haven't noticed, you're about the size of an extinct species of prehistoric ape. Most things at the zoo aren't in your wieght class."
She steeples her fingers and places them under her chin. "Now, if you had paid any attention to what you were saying in your own promo, That shouldn't matter to you. It certainly doesn't matter to me! You yourself spoke about how many giants and powerhouses fizzle out in this business. If anything, you have made me even more confident that I will bring this win home with me by reminding me of that fact. Because, you, Carl Cage, Mr. Essence of Egotism, are just another giant. Just one more powerhouse. And the rest of your line is already extinct. You are nothing more than a freak show attraction at this point. "The Last of His Kind", Carl Cage!"
Player One puts her hands up to her mouth like a circus ringmaster and whispers the screams of the crowd. She tilts her head and looks to the camera once more.
"And you have the same attributes G-d has. Jesus Fucking Christ am I tired of EVERYONE and their mother and their neighbor's pet hamster saying that they are G-d or G-d like or the Messiah! Is this really the last gimmick available in wrestling today?"
She puts her hands up in excitement and runs to the camera. "Oh, wait! I can come up with something more original!" She darts her eyes back and forth and whispers conspiratorially at the lens. "How about...A gourmet chef who needs to restock his meat freezer? Or...The Bowling Ball Champion? Or...An escapee from My Little Pony Mountain where the evil pony Thundercloud of Death was performing horrible experiments on you and made you sing, dance, and...duh-duh-DUH...be merry?"
She rolls her eyes and walks back a few steps again, slapping her hand against her hip in frustration. "You see, ANYTHING is better than ANOTHER person with a G-d Complex."
She shakes her head and sighs. "You know, I have been in matches with alot of wrestlers. Most have out-wieghed me by at least 100 pounds. You are nothing special. You will hit your one move and while you go for that pop from the crowd, taking your time, knowing I couldn't possibly get up after a move from a guy your size, you won't ever see me coming. I will stand up and fight. Again. And. Again. And I will wear you down. It doesn't matter how big you are. Not to me. I'll take your punches AND recover from them. And you will be too busy stroking your ego to realize I'm still here. I will make you realize. And you will wonder how you could have lost to a "blip" on the wrestling radar like me."
Katrina "Arcadia" Olivetti points her finger at the camera. "You say you haven't earned your reputation by losing to trash like me. Well, regardless of whether I'm trash or not, I'm NOT by the way," The Hardcora Luchadora clears her throat and laughs nervously at her outburst, "This is APW and your previous reputation means nothing here. Here, all you are is Unoriginal. Here, you are Almost Extinct. Here, you are all out of lives, and you don't have anymore tokens."
Arcadia's eyes spark as she adds for good measure to the cameraman, "And I am not on Steroids, G-d damn it!"
The camera fades out.
