Post by B.A. Styles on Sept 4, 2013 17:00:57 GMT -4
I so had to rush the ending since I was running out of time. >_<
act 1
act 2
act 1
I-I…I can’t believe it…I lost. Last month, after seven hard months of non-stop pursuing, I finally won the North American Championship…my first, and so far only, Title in my professional wrestling career. After that moment I seem to have lost match after match after match. Sure two of these matches were for the Overdrive and Xtreme Championship but all these defeats seem to have calibrated itself to a few minutes ago when the referee handed Amy Zing the Title I only held for a month. Some people way the end justifies the means but seeing me lose the North American Championship to somebody I originally valued as beneath me…does that mean my Title reign was nothing more than an afterthought? Am I an afterthought? I don’t know and I don’t care as I hastily made my way through the backstage area and back into my locker room, refusing to look at anybody that I might have ran passed.
Once I’m inside my room I slammed the door shut and locked it before making my way over to the desk, which I sit by when applying some makeup, dropped down onto my seat and slumped my body on the table before beginning to weep quite loudly. Everything I’ve worked for…everything I’ve been through…cage matches, ladder matches and scramble matches…it was all for nothing as I no longer have the Championship around my waist. “You stupid, stupid, stupid…” I whined as I barely lift my head up to look at the reflection of my tearstained face “ugly bitch!” I yelled as I punched the mirror with my right hand. There was no power in this punch, since I was too emotionally upset to focus on this punch, so the mirror had not marks of the punch even though now my knuckles are bright pink. But I don’t care; I’ve lost the one thing that made all my previous sacrifices worth it.
Why won’t I leave my room and look for support from somebody backstage? Because nobody likes me…everyone hates…even I hate me and if you can’t like yourself then you can’t expect anybody else to like you. I’m so alone…ever since the Meltdown brand died, and Sienna left APW, I’ve had nobody to comfort me in these arenas. I’m so alone in my own dark despair without any form of friends or support. I looked back towards my tearstained reflection and spotted that my mobile is vibrating. I picked it up, looked at it with a sad expression upon my still crying face and I rose the phone in the air, ready to mash it against the floor. God I’m so fucking angry! But I’m too afraid to break the one thing that my special one has contacted me through when I’m far away. So in the end I used my right wrist to rub some of the tears of my face as I used my left hand to open the text message.
“Guess what Baby, I went to the doctors earlier today and they’ve told me that I’ve fully recovered! That’s great!!! It means that we can go out to places without you worrying about my leg. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. J
Shannon
xxx”
It’s almost like my beautiful redhead knows when I’m upset since that text has just brought a smile on my teary face. After closing my phone I wasted little time in taking my ring gear off, having a shower and getting a fresh set of clothes on before leaving my room, finally feeling somewhat better in an emotion standpoint. Once I was outside my locker room I walked over where the match card would be put up to see what match I would have on the next Overdrive. Okay…I have the third match of the night against some Chris Madison……who is he again? Even though he is my opponent I can’t help but scowl lightly at the location of this episode of Overdrive will be…Paris, France.
“Do I have to fucking go there?”
Once I’m inside my room I slammed the door shut and locked it before making my way over to the desk, which I sit by when applying some makeup, dropped down onto my seat and slumped my body on the table before beginning to weep quite loudly. Everything I’ve worked for…everything I’ve been through…cage matches, ladder matches and scramble matches…it was all for nothing as I no longer have the Championship around my waist. “You stupid, stupid, stupid…” I whined as I barely lift my head up to look at the reflection of my tearstained face “ugly bitch!” I yelled as I punched the mirror with my right hand. There was no power in this punch, since I was too emotionally upset to focus on this punch, so the mirror had not marks of the punch even though now my knuckles are bright pink. But I don’t care; I’ve lost the one thing that made all my previous sacrifices worth it.
Why won’t I leave my room and look for support from somebody backstage? Because nobody likes me…everyone hates…even I hate me and if you can’t like yourself then you can’t expect anybody else to like you. I’m so alone…ever since the Meltdown brand died, and Sienna left APW, I’ve had nobody to comfort me in these arenas. I’m so alone in my own dark despair without any form of friends or support. I looked back towards my tearstained reflection and spotted that my mobile is vibrating. I picked it up, looked at it with a sad expression upon my still crying face and I rose the phone in the air, ready to mash it against the floor. God I’m so fucking angry! But I’m too afraid to break the one thing that my special one has contacted me through when I’m far away. So in the end I used my right wrist to rub some of the tears of my face as I used my left hand to open the text message.
“Guess what Baby, I went to the doctors earlier today and they’ve told me that I’ve fully recovered! That’s great!!! It means that we can go out to places without you worrying about my leg. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. J
Shannon
xxx”
It’s almost like my beautiful redhead knows when I’m upset since that text has just brought a smile on my teary face. After closing my phone I wasted little time in taking my ring gear off, having a shower and getting a fresh set of clothes on before leaving my room, finally feeling somewhat better in an emotion standpoint. Once I was outside my locker room I walked over where the match card would be put up to see what match I would have on the next Overdrive. Okay…I have the third match of the night against some Chris Madison……who is he again? Even though he is my opponent I can’t help but scowl lightly at the location of this episode of Overdrive will be…Paris, France.
“Do I have to fucking go there?”
act 2
“I can’t believe that my greatness will have to go to some pit of frogs.”
That grumble was easily heard as the camera began to record the scene in front of it, the location of today’s scene? A hotel room, more specially in the bathroom of this hotel room as laying in the bath, having a wash, is the purple haired dynamo known as Robina Hood. Fortunately the former North American Champion is having a bubble bath or else the camera would have seen the nineteen year old’s fully naked body. Miss Hood pushed her lips out into a pout after finishing her grumble.
“The place is smelly, the fact they eat frogs, snails and horses is disgusting and nobody will bother speaking English, even when they were taught English from when they’re primary school kids. France is a boring shithole with extremely poor quality…just like my opponent tomorrow night, Chris Madison. I mean seriously, he calls himself a ‘Madman’ but why? What actually makes him mad? He was utterly pathetic in the Overdrive Championship Scramble, that I actually made my Overdrive debut in. So why is Chris classed as a Madman? All he is a petty fool that, if anything, is only going to get my pity after I’m done turning him into a pile of broken fucking bones. Hell, that isn’t all that I’m going to do to Mister Madison…before, after or even during our match I’m going to smash his fucking face in so badly that nobody will ever recognise him without something as blooming simple as a damn nametag.
Why am I sounding extra nasty today, Chris? Because you’re the unluckiest sod in the world? Why is that you ask? The answer is simpler than the question you moron. Because you’re the poor bastard who has been put in the ring against me at, literally, the worst bloody time for I am sick and tired of losing time and time and time again. While people like you and the rest of your stupid ‘Black Hand’ group makes losing an art form, I don’t plan on going on a losing streak. So, if anything, you shouldn’t even come to France since I don’t care what those froggies in attendance think…I’m going to hurt, I’m going to enjoy hurting you and I’m going to make you realise why facing me while I’m in this, rather furious, kind of mood is career suicide.”
Even though looking cute in the face, as well as in this bath, the words the forest-dweller was speaking is completely vile. As if she truthfully intends on doing as the horrible thing that she claim she would. As for Robina’s insult of France? She’s English, naturally a lot of Englishmen hates the French and vice versa. Yet after finishing her words the nineteen year old sat up, fully revealing her bare breasts to the camera, and opened a bottle of shampoo before rubbing some shampoo into her purple hair.
“But do you want to know why I’m extra angry Chris? Three words…Amy-fucking-Zing. Her and her Asian little friend stole from me something that I treasure more valuably than my entire life. The North American Championship…do you know how it feels to lose a Championship you worked so hard to get in the first place? It hurts…it hurts so much…it’s like your mind suddenly becomes your own worst enemy as it taunts you by saying stuff about how you were never good enough for the shot in the first place. So, to silence this doubt, I’m to break you and torture you and even slaughter in front of the entire Overdrive roster just to send a message to those filthy Asians…what is that message? That’s not important to you, the only thing you should need to worry about is your condition after I’m through with you.
Why should you be worried about facing somebody like me? I may be the smallest person in Action Packed Wrestling, discounting Amy Zing, but I am the most violent, the most blood-thirsty and the most destructive person in the history of this company. People like Adolf Hitler and Attila the Hun would shit themselves at the sight of what I’ve voluntarily, and pleasurably, done to people who wronged me. I won’t go into detail since the majority of it will most likely go through your skull…oh yeah, can you do me a favour airhead? Can you ask Niobe how her arm is doing? I’m just wondering since I almost snapped her life in half eight months ago. So while you do whatever you do to get ready for this match, be it joining the rest of the spineless men in your group in gangbanging Niobe Martin or simply looking up internet porn because you’re incapable of actually wooing a girl, remember to write yourself a will tonight for tomorrow night…heh…I might has as well get arrested for murder.”
The young Brit giggled after finishing her words. How can one find the idea of murdering an innocent to be hilarious? The answer is unknown yet that didn’t stop the Englishwoman from laughing while successfully rubbing the shampoo into her hair before using one of her hands to press a nearby button. The moment this button was pressed water began to spray down from the showerhead above and the pale female began to wash her hair.
“Perhaps this is why people think that you are a madman, Chris. After all, only a raving lunatic with an never-ending lust to pain would voluntarily put themselves in the ring against me. But, to be perfectly honest with you, you being known as a Madman is just like Paris being known as the most romantic city in the world…it’s utter bullshit. Paris is a dumb, France is the shit country and French is a dead language while you’re not mad at all. You’re just a bloody idiot that and perhaps that idiotism will help you tomorrow night since beating a dead corpse won’t make it anymore dead, so the same is bound to apply to the brain-dead. Yes Chris I do think you’re the stupidest member of your Black Hand, with Tommy Knoxville coming an extremely close second, and the only evidence I’ll need will be when you actually show up to your brutal ass kicking. Sure you can claim that you’re going to beat my ass, in more ways than one, or that you’re going to take your beating as a man…but guess what sunshine, instead you’re beaten down until you’re a crying like little boy in front of the entire world.”
Once again Robina found herself to be chucking away after finishing her words yet it was also at this time that the purple haired megastar was finished washing her hair. So the nineteen year old dipped her right hand into the water. What for? This was found out when the young Brit stood up, revealing that in her right hand is a red rose…even though most men walking this promo will probably fixate their attention upon her naked body. Yet after a couple more moments a grin appeared on Miss Hood’s face as she lets go the rose. The moment the flower went pass the tub and hit the floor a blinding light suddenly shot out. When the camera regained focus the area is no longer the bathroom…but instead on some stage in a Roman like colosseum. As for Robina Hood? Unfortunately for some, she isn’t naked anymore but is instead wearing her classically red, military-styled, dress as the nineteen year old
“What I’m going to do to you is not going to be personal at all, for I have nothing against you more than the fact that you’re the unlucky son of a bitch who’s going to be mercilessly annihilated by the fury of the Highlight of the Night. Your inevitable, and rather painful, defeat is just simply going to be me letting lose all this rage and anger I’m currently bottling in right now. Oh yeah…welcome to the Theatre of the Deranged, I’m not a hundred percent sure if I blessed you with the mere sight of my special Theatre or not but don’t worry dear puppet, I’ll be nice enough and give you the role of the valiant giant to make you look like somewhat of a man…and that is probably the nicest thing you’re going to get from me Madison. So be a smart puppet and not only treasure this role but also master this role because, like Jace Savage proved in the past, I can demote you into a nobody at a snap of a finger.
I know, I know, I know…I have lost four straight matches since joining Overdrive, with the last two involving me being pinned, but let me ask you this Chris Madison: How many Title have you got in your career? In July not only did I shocked the world by making it to the semi finals of this year’s Test of the Best but I also ended the most dominant Title reign of this year. While in the past few weeks I’ve managed to get a shot at the Overdrive Title, in my Overdrive debut, at the very main event of that show as well as receiving a shot at the Xtreme Championship. So clearly people upstairs know that I’m the hottest woman, in terms of pure talent and potential, to ever grace their ring since Sally Talfourd’s rookie year
So not only am I a star but I’m the blooming Highlight of the Night, be it in a match or just on a microphone. So while you are going to lose to me, Chris Madison, remember to enjoy yourself since this is most likely going to be your only opportunity of fighting a real star, not fat turds like Level-One or repeated failures like CJ Gates. Hell if you actually perform well enough then perhaps you might be one of those popular guys that only succeeds in getting people behind him. But if I end up wiping you like in the most embarrassing kind of fashions then you might end up being like Yanzel Holmes…and if you’re asking ‘who the hell is Yanzel Holmes?’ that’s the point sunshine. Then don’t fuck this only opportunity to work with some as amazing as me up.”
The nineteen year old megastar couldn’t help but giggle once again after finish her latest batch of words, not caring about how transparent the front of her skirt is. Perhaps the Emo Princess found in insulting both Chris Madison and her least favourite country at the same time.
“Oh…did I hurt your feelings, Madman? Are you going to cry? But aren’t Madmen suppose to not cry? Well either here’s a rather friendly piece of advice I have just for you bub. Cry me a river, build a bridge and get over it since, just like the French, you’re not worthy of having me in the ring but since I will have to compete I’ll just pretend that you’re the average French fatty and perform the twenty-first century version of waterloo where the small Brit massacres the French berk. Or perhaps we should do prefer to do some Les Miserables where you’re the mean French street tramp and I’m the poor little girl, yet instead of having Hugh Jackson save me from you I’ll just kick your ass like how the Germans beat the French at the Rhine. Heh, perhaps we should do an alternative script where I kick your ass in seven minutes, without you even managing to fight back, to make a seven minute tribute to when the Germany once, rather effortlessly, conquered France in a mere seven days.
Okay I should be a little bit serious now, since I had my very enjoyable fun for now, I will admit it Chris…you got some rather decent skills. After all not even Tommy’s stupid enough to allow just anybody into the Black Hand without them proving their worth first. I will admit that I was never offered a spot but then again I would probably have refused since I first thought that you lot were just a bad ABBA tribute band. But hey you and your bunch of children have been impressive here and there, even though I normally ignore what the Black Hand have been up to since some of you guys, especially Knoxville and Jennings, are beneath me in an almost embarrassing way. Yet you have managed to look good here and there…so perhaps this match is also going to happen just so I can see how good you are. Hell you could end up being the brightest candle in the room, ready to light the top part of that weird Jewish symbol thing. But you something about candle fires?
They can get wiped out by the simplest drop of water and tomorrow night a tsunami of pure rage is coming your way to wipe you the FUCK out. If you want to survive tomorrow, then I would suggest that bring everything you have and if you gain a tiny piece of my respect then I might let you walk out the arena. But if not…no one will ever see your face again, hell this time next year nobody will even remember your name. That was your warning…so don’t screw up.”
While saying her final batch of words the Iron Maiden bent over in a seductive way and picked the rose back up. The moment the words ‘don’t screw up’ left her lips the forest gal gave the camera a playful wink before grinning a bit more as she lets go of the rose. When the flower touched the floor another blinding light blast out towards the camera lens, ending this promo with a nothing but pure whiteness.
That grumble was easily heard as the camera began to record the scene in front of it, the location of today’s scene? A hotel room, more specially in the bathroom of this hotel room as laying in the bath, having a wash, is the purple haired dynamo known as Robina Hood. Fortunately the former North American Champion is having a bubble bath or else the camera would have seen the nineteen year old’s fully naked body. Miss Hood pushed her lips out into a pout after finishing her grumble.
“The place is smelly, the fact they eat frogs, snails and horses is disgusting and nobody will bother speaking English, even when they were taught English from when they’re primary school kids. France is a boring shithole with extremely poor quality…just like my opponent tomorrow night, Chris Madison. I mean seriously, he calls himself a ‘Madman’ but why? What actually makes him mad? He was utterly pathetic in the Overdrive Championship Scramble, that I actually made my Overdrive debut in. So why is Chris classed as a Madman? All he is a petty fool that, if anything, is only going to get my pity after I’m done turning him into a pile of broken fucking bones. Hell, that isn’t all that I’m going to do to Mister Madison…before, after or even during our match I’m going to smash his fucking face in so badly that nobody will ever recognise him without something as blooming simple as a damn nametag.
Why am I sounding extra nasty today, Chris? Because you’re the unluckiest sod in the world? Why is that you ask? The answer is simpler than the question you moron. Because you’re the poor bastard who has been put in the ring against me at, literally, the worst bloody time for I am sick and tired of losing time and time and time again. While people like you and the rest of your stupid ‘Black Hand’ group makes losing an art form, I don’t plan on going on a losing streak. So, if anything, you shouldn’t even come to France since I don’t care what those froggies in attendance think…I’m going to hurt, I’m going to enjoy hurting you and I’m going to make you realise why facing me while I’m in this, rather furious, kind of mood is career suicide.”
Even though looking cute in the face, as well as in this bath, the words the forest-dweller was speaking is completely vile. As if she truthfully intends on doing as the horrible thing that she claim she would. As for Robina’s insult of France? She’s English, naturally a lot of Englishmen hates the French and vice versa. Yet after finishing her words the nineteen year old sat up, fully revealing her bare breasts to the camera, and opened a bottle of shampoo before rubbing some shampoo into her purple hair.
“But do you want to know why I’m extra angry Chris? Three words…Amy-fucking-Zing. Her and her Asian little friend stole from me something that I treasure more valuably than my entire life. The North American Championship…do you know how it feels to lose a Championship you worked so hard to get in the first place? It hurts…it hurts so much…it’s like your mind suddenly becomes your own worst enemy as it taunts you by saying stuff about how you were never good enough for the shot in the first place. So, to silence this doubt, I’m to break you and torture you and even slaughter in front of the entire Overdrive roster just to send a message to those filthy Asians…what is that message? That’s not important to you, the only thing you should need to worry about is your condition after I’m through with you.
Why should you be worried about facing somebody like me? I may be the smallest person in Action Packed Wrestling, discounting Amy Zing, but I am the most violent, the most blood-thirsty and the most destructive person in the history of this company. People like Adolf Hitler and Attila the Hun would shit themselves at the sight of what I’ve voluntarily, and pleasurably, done to people who wronged me. I won’t go into detail since the majority of it will most likely go through your skull…oh yeah, can you do me a favour airhead? Can you ask Niobe how her arm is doing? I’m just wondering since I almost snapped her life in half eight months ago. So while you do whatever you do to get ready for this match, be it joining the rest of the spineless men in your group in gangbanging Niobe Martin or simply looking up internet porn because you’re incapable of actually wooing a girl, remember to write yourself a will tonight for tomorrow night…heh…I might has as well get arrested for murder.”
The young Brit giggled after finishing her words. How can one find the idea of murdering an innocent to be hilarious? The answer is unknown yet that didn’t stop the Englishwoman from laughing while successfully rubbing the shampoo into her hair before using one of her hands to press a nearby button. The moment this button was pressed water began to spray down from the showerhead above and the pale female began to wash her hair.
“Perhaps this is why people think that you are a madman, Chris. After all, only a raving lunatic with an never-ending lust to pain would voluntarily put themselves in the ring against me. But, to be perfectly honest with you, you being known as a Madman is just like Paris being known as the most romantic city in the world…it’s utter bullshit. Paris is a dumb, France is the shit country and French is a dead language while you’re not mad at all. You’re just a bloody idiot that and perhaps that idiotism will help you tomorrow night since beating a dead corpse won’t make it anymore dead, so the same is bound to apply to the brain-dead. Yes Chris I do think you’re the stupidest member of your Black Hand, with Tommy Knoxville coming an extremely close second, and the only evidence I’ll need will be when you actually show up to your brutal ass kicking. Sure you can claim that you’re going to beat my ass, in more ways than one, or that you’re going to take your beating as a man…but guess what sunshine, instead you’re beaten down until you’re a crying like little boy in front of the entire world.”
Once again Robina found herself to be chucking away after finishing her words yet it was also at this time that the purple haired megastar was finished washing her hair. So the nineteen year old dipped her right hand into the water. What for? This was found out when the young Brit stood up, revealing that in her right hand is a red rose…even though most men walking this promo will probably fixate their attention upon her naked body. Yet after a couple more moments a grin appeared on Miss Hood’s face as she lets go the rose. The moment the flower went pass the tub and hit the floor a blinding light suddenly shot out. When the camera regained focus the area is no longer the bathroom…but instead on some stage in a Roman like colosseum. As for Robina Hood? Unfortunately for some, she isn’t naked anymore but is instead wearing her classically red, military-styled, dress as the nineteen year old
“What I’m going to do to you is not going to be personal at all, for I have nothing against you more than the fact that you’re the unlucky son of a bitch who’s going to be mercilessly annihilated by the fury of the Highlight of the Night. Your inevitable, and rather painful, defeat is just simply going to be me letting lose all this rage and anger I’m currently bottling in right now. Oh yeah…welcome to the Theatre of the Deranged, I’m not a hundred percent sure if I blessed you with the mere sight of my special Theatre or not but don’t worry dear puppet, I’ll be nice enough and give you the role of the valiant giant to make you look like somewhat of a man…and that is probably the nicest thing you’re going to get from me Madison. So be a smart puppet and not only treasure this role but also master this role because, like Jace Savage proved in the past, I can demote you into a nobody at a snap of a finger.
I know, I know, I know…I have lost four straight matches since joining Overdrive, with the last two involving me being pinned, but let me ask you this Chris Madison: How many Title have you got in your career? In July not only did I shocked the world by making it to the semi finals of this year’s Test of the Best but I also ended the most dominant Title reign of this year. While in the past few weeks I’ve managed to get a shot at the Overdrive Title, in my Overdrive debut, at the very main event of that show as well as receiving a shot at the Xtreme Championship. So clearly people upstairs know that I’m the hottest woman, in terms of pure talent and potential, to ever grace their ring since Sally Talfourd’s rookie year
So not only am I a star but I’m the blooming Highlight of the Night, be it in a match or just on a microphone. So while you are going to lose to me, Chris Madison, remember to enjoy yourself since this is most likely going to be your only opportunity of fighting a real star, not fat turds like Level-One or repeated failures like CJ Gates. Hell if you actually perform well enough then perhaps you might be one of those popular guys that only succeeds in getting people behind him. But if I end up wiping you like in the most embarrassing kind of fashions then you might end up being like Yanzel Holmes…and if you’re asking ‘who the hell is Yanzel Holmes?’ that’s the point sunshine. Then don’t fuck this only opportunity to work with some as amazing as me up.”
The nineteen year old megastar couldn’t help but giggle once again after finish her latest batch of words, not caring about how transparent the front of her skirt is. Perhaps the Emo Princess found in insulting both Chris Madison and her least favourite country at the same time.
“Oh…did I hurt your feelings, Madman? Are you going to cry? But aren’t Madmen suppose to not cry? Well either here’s a rather friendly piece of advice I have just for you bub. Cry me a river, build a bridge and get over it since, just like the French, you’re not worthy of having me in the ring but since I will have to compete I’ll just pretend that you’re the average French fatty and perform the twenty-first century version of waterloo where the small Brit massacres the French berk. Or perhaps we should do prefer to do some Les Miserables where you’re the mean French street tramp and I’m the poor little girl, yet instead of having Hugh Jackson save me from you I’ll just kick your ass like how the Germans beat the French at the Rhine. Heh, perhaps we should do an alternative script where I kick your ass in seven minutes, without you even managing to fight back, to make a seven minute tribute to when the Germany once, rather effortlessly, conquered France in a mere seven days.
Okay I should be a little bit serious now, since I had my very enjoyable fun for now, I will admit it Chris…you got some rather decent skills. After all not even Tommy’s stupid enough to allow just anybody into the Black Hand without them proving their worth first. I will admit that I was never offered a spot but then again I would probably have refused since I first thought that you lot were just a bad ABBA tribute band. But hey you and your bunch of children have been impressive here and there, even though I normally ignore what the Black Hand have been up to since some of you guys, especially Knoxville and Jennings, are beneath me in an almost embarrassing way. Yet you have managed to look good here and there…so perhaps this match is also going to happen just so I can see how good you are. Hell you could end up being the brightest candle in the room, ready to light the top part of that weird Jewish symbol thing. But you something about candle fires?
They can get wiped out by the simplest drop of water and tomorrow night a tsunami of pure rage is coming your way to wipe you the FUCK out. If you want to survive tomorrow, then I would suggest that bring everything you have and if you gain a tiny piece of my respect then I might let you walk out the arena. But if not…no one will ever see your face again, hell this time next year nobody will even remember your name. That was your warning…so don’t screw up.”
While saying her final batch of words the Iron Maiden bent over in a seductive way and picked the rose back up. The moment the words ‘don’t screw up’ left her lips the forest gal gave the camera a playful wink before grinning a bit more as she lets go of the rose. When the flower touched the floor another blinding light blast out towards the camera lens, ending this promo with a nothing but pure whiteness.
