Post by hxcprincess on Jun 4, 2008 21:32:32 GMT -4
The following is being told to you from an all-knowing source that is not to be questioned. Events taken place off camera are assumed to be true and without bias.
With APW filled with drama and kaos, fueds and family quarrels it seems something is amiss. The beautiful Blackwell, the sister. The hardcore miss, she’s been gone for far too long. The Blackwell family is minus one. So where has she been? Well, she taught for a while at her brothers wrestling school. But she was bored with dumbass kids and she wanted to come back to her brothers, to wrestling, to…the mall? Alright, alright, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
So the Blackwell Beauty herself stepped inside an APW venue sometime in the last few weeks. Which venue exactly is up for speculation. She was hoping to find Trevor or Tony, anyone except who she actually ran into first…
Spirit Tara Jacobs came strolling around the corner, duffel over her shoulder, decked out in exercise gear. See, Spirit knew that Kristina had been around APW before she entered the fed, but by the time she arrived Kristina had taken a break to help Trevor out. As Spirit saw Kristina headed towards her they both stopped dead in their tracks, Spirit staring vengefully into the Blackwell’s eyes as if to say “you put my sister in an insane asylum, you sick twisted mall rat.” The formerly hardcore princess looked on in fear as she saw the connections being made quite quickly behind Spirit’s eyes. And she did what any hardcore princess would do. She ran. She bolted fast in the opposite direction, and Spirit followed with the gale force wind called hatred pushing her even faster. It wasn’t long before Diana’s sister, friend, defender and tag mate caught up to the dark diva and got the revenge she wished for a long time. That’s right, Spirit straight pounded Kristina’s face over and over into the cold, hard floor of the hallway of arena X. She nearly killed her even. Spirit only left when she good and had her fill, and by that time Kristina was good and unconscious, bloody on the floor.
When she awoke, our dazed and confused lady friend was searching for answers. She took a trip, alone, back to her old home on Long Island, popped in a few of her old videos from the days of WWC and looked around. While rummaging she found something interesting. A small box on her dresser. It had a small black bow on it and a tag that said “Kenny and Kristina”. She opened it slowly and saw what looked like a small sheet of paper with tiny smiley faces printed on it. Kristina, not really knowing why, brought a piece of the paper to her broken, bloody red lips and let it sit in her mouth as she sat back on the couch, watching her old matches and promos, trying to figure out what happened between then and now.
By the time Kristina figured out that the sugary paper she and Kenny were meant to have shared a long time ago was actually acid, she was well on her journey to figuring everything out.
“Fuck.” Kristina sat up and grabbed her head. How many days had passed? Where were all the elephants? As her mind cleared her memory returned in full as if it had never left. There were certain things that stuck out as important. She threw on her hottest, shortest, sluttiest skirt, a bag full of items and headed back out to find APW along the road.
As the lights went dark and the spotlight hit the door, “Counting Bodies Like Sheep to the Rhythm of the War Drums” by A Perfect Circle hit the speakers. The dark pounding sound was unfamiliar to the crowd and they waited to see what would happen in much anticipation. When they realized that the hot little figure standing in the bright light was Kristina Blackwell, well, the reaction was mixed. Which Kristina will this be? The men didn’t seem to have much of a problem being that she was still hot as ever and showing it off in her mysterious, dark little ways. She strutted slowly to the beat down to the ring smirking and winking at the swooning men and women in the audience. Her entrance to the ring itself was beyond graceful, coming into a split on the mat, rising to her feet transition less as she brought her feet together. The microphone practically fell into her hands as she brought it up to her not-yet-healed face, covered in cracks and scars.
“I’m back and there are a few things I need to say. Simplest being addressed to my brothers. The Blackwells haven’t been as close and I WILL change that. Our power of three will be salvaged and I will keep my family together. The Blackwells only care about The Blackwells, and none of you ever forget that. Besides, this place is boring looking without the Blackwells causing havoc around. Although, this Dr. Phate guy? You seem like my kinda fella, sugar. Now I heard the good news about Kenny and Diana. Getting married eh, Kenny?.” Kristina smirked, “sounds like fun to me.” She reached behind her and lifted up a straw cowboy hat that had been hanging behind her from a drawstring around her neck. “Remember this Kenny? This once belonged to the high and mighty Martin J. Singer. You know, your precious Diana’s former stable mate? Looks good on me, doesn’t it?” She laughed aloud till she had her full then replaced the hat behind her as it was. “Then what?” Her face became dark and stern. “Damien Darko. The whole entire reason I had pretty much blacked out between WWC and APW. The damaged caused to me and my family in result of that relationship changed me. Unfortunately it made me weak. But I’m back now, and I don’t see Damien anywhere, so I suppose that’s all well and good.” She paused and cleared her throat. “And finally, the last thing I have to say to anyone for now before I go see my brother in the hospital is this: Spirit. Tara. Jacobs. Must. Die. Jeff, let’s make you some money honey.” She dropped the mic as her music hit as she shook her hot little self right on out of there.
Updated stats to come within the next day or two. Spanx very much.
