Post by cooltubesource on Aug 17, 2018 16:58:13 GMT -5
The one where Team Kickass faces off against Team Two Dudes Who Did Better Than “MEH” for, like, Five Seconds That One Time and takes them to school, but not just any school, #CoolKidsSchool. And not MY school, because Lacklanland High is a private school and I doubt you guys could afford boarding. Did you know that I was head cheerleader and captain of the swim team? GOOOooooooooOOOOOO TEAM!
Sarah Selena Grey-Lacklan’s feet shook nervously as she sat in the waiting room of the hospital. She couldn’t help but smile at those feet, as they were currently encased in a pair of heels, a gift from her benefactor Ichabod, which probably cost the same amount of money that would keep a tribe in Africa fed for three days. She loved shoes, always had, and she got solace from them and the rest of her clothes. Her outfit for the day was not as opulent as the usual, as the day’s activities necessitated freedom of movement, but still, her yoga pants and shirt matched the light brown shade of the shoes and her jewelry matched the darker accents. Accessories was important, even for physicals.
She jumped slightly as a hand rested upon hers. She looked down and saw the caramel skin of her beloved wife holding her hands, stopping them from shaking. She hated when they did that. The shaking had been terrible initially; after the accident, she couldn’t even hold a cup to her lips without splashing tea around. As weeks stretched to months, she gained more and more control over herself, but that dreaded shaking was stubborn. These days, it only manifested when she was stressed, or emotionally drained, but the calmness of her Beloved, who aspired to Clarity with the same determination as she herself sought holiness, always slowed them.
“...thank you...”
Her voice was a whisper in that room. She hated hospitals. It had been in a hospital that she learned of her father’s cancer; Stage 4 and growing worse, with only months to live. It had been in a hospital that, as a little girl, she learned that her skin color and eyes weren't just something that would fade; albinism would be with her forever. Additionally, it had been in a hospital that she learned that her condition was deteriorating her eyes, and would eventually cause major issues with her vision. She hated the glasses on her face as much as she hated anything in the world; no matter how much her friends protested, she felt that they made her ugly, perhaps even hideous. And right that moment, her glasses felt heavier than a stone as they sat on her nose.
She jumped as the door to the back was opened. She hated that, too. Hated how much she jumped when she was nervous. Hated how much she jumped when she was caught by surprise. One time, in the beginning, Milisandre had snuck up on her and covered her eyes from behind, just a little game of “Guess who?!” between close friends, when she was still wheelchair-bound, and she had screamed bloody murder while her heart beat so hard in her chest that she was afraid it would burst and escape. Like everything else, it was better now than it had been all those months ago, but she still jumped when she was tired.
“Sarah Grey-Lacklan?”
She couldn’t help but smile as the nurse called out her name. She would never get tired of hearing her married name. Never. She had always assumed that she would marry for power, perhaps be in a loveless relationship with the son of a Maine politician, or a marriage to a member of a New England family as rich as hers, but the freight train of Kenzi Michaela Grey had changed all of that. First opening her eyes to a wholly different world than her own, then to the very real idea that she was, regardless of how much Kenzi despised being labeled or put into a box, 100% in favor of a same sex marriage, there had been no stopping their union. They were quickly approaching their first anniversary, August 26th, and there had been zero diminishment in how she felt about Kenzi or their life. In fact, they had grown closer than either had thought possible after what they had gone through the prior November and December.
Up the two of them stood, Sarah taking a moment to stretch, as her legs had gone stiff while they sat. She hated that, too. They needed to sit at the end of aisles at the movies and on planes so that she could keep her legs loose, and she despised ANY form of control like that. She was a goddamn PRINCESS and she hated not being able to get her way in anything. But such was her life for the moment, and so, when feeling loosened, the two made their way through the waiting room. Her red eyes couldn’t help but notice the CUTE-AS-FUCK baby in a stroller with cheeks she just wanted to pinch SO BAD THAT SHE THROBBED and was barely able to contain herself. Much to the annoyance, if not outright horror, of her wife, she had been baby-crazy (or “in heat,” as Stupid Roxy had once quipped) since December and, regardless of the realities of her health, her clock was ticking so loud in her own ears that she felt like she was constantly inside Big Ben as it struck twelve.
Through the door and to the nurses station. Height and weight taken, with a grimace on her face; she was still 5’2” even, of course, and NOT a freak of nature like Angie, but she was still underweight from where she wanted to be. She was disappointed in her weight loss while in the chair, saddened by the atrophy her legs went through, and no amount of “Shit up, you’re perfect!” from Kenzi could take away that sadness. She was proud of the body she had built in the old gym in Maine, powerlifting beside her father from the time she was 14, and lamented practically having to start over when she was given the “all clear.”
Out of the station and to the private room. Temperature, blood pressure, vitals. Then alone in the room while they waited. As per usual, they passed the time by playing their favorite game, “Two Hawt Chicks Being Dumb On Twitter,” with this particular game being the “Do I know you? You look familiar” flirtation. They loved playing together as much as anything else they did. Neither had had much in the way of friends as they grew up, and both relished in having a best friend that they could play with now. They roleplayed, played board games, giggled over great butts while people watching, even did each other’s hair. Kenzi STILL laughed over the time she did Sarah’s platinum locks up in braids like hers, though Sarah had made sure ZERO pictures of that existed anywhere.
A knock on the door brought an end to their game and a stately man with grey hair entered the room. Doctor Andrews had been her physician her entire life, and her father’s before her. He had the distinction of giving birth to two generations of Lacklans, and if it were up to Sarah, he would do the honors for a third before too much longer. Unfortunately, given his relationship with her family, that meant he had also been there for tragedy to go with the joyous births. He had been there to tell her father about the deaths of his parents in a plane crash. He had been there to break the news of the passing of his first wife, Selena, as she died during the childbirth that had given him an albino daughter. He had been there to tell him of his cancer, and be there to pronounce his death. He had been there to give the newlywed Grey-Lacklans their options for Sarah’s care after her accident and help guide her through rehab.
They did not waste time on pleasantries. Before they knew it, Sarah was performing the series of tests her exercise outfit was designed for. She ran, first on a treadmill while hooked up to a heart monitor and then on a parkour obstacle course. She stretched and showed her mobility. She tumbled and performed light gymnastics, her cheerleading background coming in handy. She swam in the pool, her chosen competitive sport in high school, to show the extent of her cardiovascular conditioning. Test after test, each one accompanied by the doctor’s astute gaze and Kenzi’s nervous yet supportive one. And in the end, after what felt like hours and hours of torture, came the prognosis:
“I am clearing you for a return to full-time wrestling.”
She felt the tears pouring down her cheeks before the squeezing hug from Kenzi and subsequent squeal from her. Kenzi would never believe that she actually made a squealing sound when she was extremely excited, as she would say something like “I’m too black for that!” while tossing her braids over her shoulder, but that is what Sarah eventually heard over her own sobbing. They had worked so hard for this moment. Months of tortuous rehab filled with pushing muscles further than they wanted to go. Months of tears from sadness and frustration. Months of hating Jacob Hargrave more than she thought it was possible to hate a person. Months of her life stolen. Of THEIR life stolen.
She wanted to dance and sing, to call Angie so that they could sing Disney songs, to text Roxy with where she could shove her Lieutenant Dan gifs, to slide Kenzi into the nearest broom closet or elevator and show her just how powerful her legs were now, but instead she pushed off the celebrations for information. Yes, she still had to wear the heavy leg braces designed for those who had their knees replaced. Yes, she still had to wear the thick and painful contact lenses when she fought; after all, refractive eye surgery was tricky with her nystagmus, the practically unpronounceable medical name for the way her eyes sometimes moved and jerked all around when she was thinking hard, and they needed to talk to a specialist who had done work on albino eyes before. Yes, she could start lifting again, but nothing heavy; she had to work her way back up.
"...and we need to talk about your smoking habit, young lady. I really wish you would stop."
She started to roll her eyes, but a sharp rap on the back of her head stopped her.
"Yeah, listen to your doctor!"
She rubbed the back of her head and shot disdainful looks between the other two people in the room. Kenzi had never smoked as much as she did, though she certainly drank more, but all of that changed with Scientology and Clarity. And while Sarah had certainly cut down on the alcohol consumption to only a few social occasions in support of her wife's lifestyle change, she refused to cut out the cigarettes. Going "cold turkey" on the harder drugs she had been doing when they first met, such as the designer amphetamine called DRIVE which was readily available to the social elite in New England, had been hard enough, and her hands shook uncontrollably at even the thought of having to give up her cigarettes, too. Even just the first drag had a calming effect on her, one which was hard to replicate in other ways, and this continued to be a point of contention between the couple.
Out the door they went, with hugs for the doctor who had been seeing her for twenty years and a kiss on his bearded cheek, even with his admonishing glare about her smoking habit. Waves and nonsense words to the baby she saw again in the waiting room. Leaping into her wife’s embrace as they slipped into their Uber, giving their shocked driver a show as a single quickly got rounded into a double. Giggling and laughing on the way up to their suite at the Waldorf. And all the way, the little ball of rage hatched a plan in her head, a plan that had been stewing for months and she was ready to spring into action now that she was medically cleared:
She was ready to have a baby.
~~Presenting the PrincessTwilightSexyFang Podcast, as streamed LIVE through the ser tobvs coolio #CoolTube app that legit is a #1 seller AND Editor’s Choice on both Google Play AND Apple Store~~
‘Sup, Coalition Fang Gang!
This is the reason for you to continue living in this world, the cream for Kenzi’s cookies, the milk in the venti iced caramel macchiato upside down (twice!) with two shots of espresso (mine is better than Eden’s), Sarah Selena Grey-Lacklan here and I am pleased to remind the world that I am one half of the NEEEEEEEEEEW Coalition Co Op Champions, Team Kickass!
Now, I’m not here to brag or anything (I would NEVER do that!), but I DO need to point out that
1). This makes my THIRD championship (of some sort) in the Coalition,
2). This makes my SECOND tag team championship with Dat Big Ol’ Booty, and
3). The VAST majority of the people around didn’t think we could do it. Hell, even all my #Outlast4LifeBuddy Jet Somers had to say going in was about how my Beloved and I are more concerned about pushing our “brand” than being great champions. But here we are, the #CoolKids once again represented in the company, dripping #AllThatGlitters.
Now, Team Kickass is moving forward with our coolies title belts straight into Day of Reckoning against the #1 contend-
Okay.
Stop.
Just….just stop.
Everyone in the Coalition listening? Here’s the dealio:
Phrixus and Raab are NOT the #1 contenders to the titles. See, EVERYONE has been calling them that. And EVERYONE who does so is just plain wrong. Now, I’m not saying (yet!) that they COULDN’T be a team, but at this moment? They are two dudes who did better than “alright” at WrestleStock while hanging out with some fans. They haven’t “EARNED” anything, okay? They didn’t win a tournament, or beat a couple of established teams, or anything even remotely close to that. Its simply that, during the festival which the #CoolKids DO-MIN-A-TED, they simply didn’t fall on their faces like some anime freaks did. Hell, the only time they HAVE teamed, they got BEAT by Jet (no shame) and Fatty (I’d rather slit my wrists)!
So, now that we have established that their team name is now forevermore “Two Dudes Who Did MEH Enough For, Like, 5 Seconds that ONE Time,” we can take a sec to actually look at WHO Team Kickass will be using for their first OF MANY successful title defences. I’ll get to Mr. GZWA Later (THAT is gonna be FUUUUUUN), and instead will take this time to speak to Phrixus personally.
Phrixus! Buddy! How the hell are ya?! Its been an AGE! Well, a few weeks, n-e-ways. Like, we TOTES saw each other in the back when I #SHOCKED the Coalition by my surprise return at the Melee, and that hug you gave me when you saw me, with tears streaming down your eyes, was so warm and soft. Oh! Did you know what our reality television show/video game (because someone got lazy) Keeping Up With the Cool Kids totes caught it on camera? Here, I’m gonna have one of my Nameless, Faceless Interns (They Are LEGION) pull up the clip of you giving me that totes awesomo-3000 hug at the Melee:
Huh. That’s weird. Wrong clip. That was from LAST YEAR’S Melee when my sexy booty Shining Wizarded (now a verb!) you right out of the ring. Sorry about that. Okay, lets try that again. Cue up the hug at the Melee:
Oh no! It happened AGAIN! That isn’t our hug! That was our FIRST match last year when this (at the time) rookie beat you clean! Dang it, Legion! Get it right this time!
Not a THIRD time?! That isn’t our hug! That was the NEXT time we fought and I beat you clean, even FASTER than before! Oh man, my team of interns is doing terrible today! I promise you, Phrixy, that I’ll have a STERN talking-to for them.
Legion! What do you have to say to explain yourself?
Well, at least they chose a great gif. Listen Phrixy, we ALL know that I have tons of respect for you. Unlike MOST of the newer people around here, I don’t have to play the “Wow, I don’t know why that enhancement talent is treated like some badass” card because, unlike those guys, I know the Coalition inside and out. I know about your career which has seen you in every Melee there has been, including multiple wins. I know about two world titles. I know about you coming out of retirement in ‘03 (like wrestlers EVER retire) for your first of three Cross-Hemisphere title reigns. I know about two global challenge wins and even that time you went into Outlast as the champ. I know EVERYTHING. And that means I also know that you have two Co Op title reigns to your name with the Talk of the Town himself, Fernandez, and that dude who dripped with Remitude.
Know what I ALSO know?
That your last Co Cop reign was in 2012. Now, I don’t want to get all agist on you, but do you realize that when you lost your titles in that 3-way in December, I was about to turn 15? Fifteen, Phrixy! That was a LOOOONG time ago! And that is ubes important because, as my Legion “accidentally” reminded us earlier, you are just too old and slow to keep up with the newest wave of whoopass wrestlers like myself and my Beloved. I mean, SURE, you had that crazy-bloody fight with Zane a couple months ago that was all KINDS of gross, but you ultimately lost that. And sure, you DID get a world title shot earlier in the year, but that was because you were able to beat up OTHER old-timer/farts like T-Pie (‘sup, buddy!) and Rydell. So, yeah, you were able to be a TOUCH relevant in THOSE situations, but you are ser legit SCREWED in this one.
And I suppose that relevancy is the key to all of this. You and Raab are bigger than us, right? Stronger. More experienced. But wholly, utterly, irrelevant. You have a win percentage that is only bested (in sheer terribleness, mind you) by the likes of Rogan and Ingalls, who aren’t even around these days. Well, and Mizore. Because she fuckin’ sucks, amIright?!
N-E-Ways, the POINT of this is making you and everyone else come to grips with the fact that, no matter how introspective your monologue is going to be this week, the chances of you and Raab walking away the Co Op titles at Day of Reckoning are SO SMALL (“How small are they?!”) - SO SMALL - that they are comparable to the size of Dipshit JC’s micropenis! That was a twitter reference, by the way; you really are missing out on all the fun content like Dipshit getting owned on Twitter, Fatty ruining ANY chance she has at credibility, Necron not being able to decide if he is the SCARY MONSTER or the phone monkey liking THOT pics, and all of the #CoolKidsRPG screen caps. Get on it, already!
Sorry...distracted again...will focus now...promise…
So, a big part of your ubes legit tiny chances on Monday is that YOUR team can’t possibly beat MY team and all you have to do is look at the two of us. Like, if you took pictures of your team and placed them next to my team, the difference would be so extreme as to cause outright laughter. Want an example? Alright, lets tap the team over at CoolTubeSource for some numerical breakdowns for analysis. Ready? Here we go:
*****If Team TDWDMEFLFSTOT were a theme park, they would be*****
Damn, that’s shitty. NO ONE would be happy if their daddy took them to Legoland. That’s just sad. There’s no one even there! Now, tobvs (that’s totes+obvs, btw), Team Kickass would be Disney World on All the Princess All Together Day.
*****If Team TDWDMEFLFSTOT were a type of Halloween candy, they would be*****
Ugh. NO ONE likes that shit. Sers, who thought that multi-colored wax would get over with kids? Probs the same people who think you guys are worthy of a match with us. Obvs, if Team Kickass were a type of Halloween candy, we would be that hella-expensive bag with all the different kinds of yummy candy like Snickers and Skittles.
*****If Team TDWDMEFLFSTOT were a comic team, they would be the*****
Oh Good Lord. You guys are the collection of conveniently-turned Kryptonian PETS that somehow saved the world? Wow, that IS embarrassing. Now, as you can imagine, Team Kickass is the Avengers of the wrestling world. I’m the ones with questionable morals like Iron Man, Ant-Man, Scarlet Witch (hawt), etc, and Kenzi is all the goody two-shoes ones like Cap, War Machine, Panther, and the like.
*****If Team TDWDMEFLFSTOT were a fruit, they would be*****
Ewwwww! Groooooooss! NO ONE likes that crappy premade pack of fruit where everything tastes like honeydew picked too early! Legit, you would be better off rummaging through what is left of catering on Monday after Fatty hurricanes through than buying THAT junk. We, by comparison, would be a lovingly-crafted assortment of fruit from Edible Arrangements which, more likely than not, Mackenzie has done a commercial spot for recently.
Hold on, I'm getting a text. Gimme one sec...
What the?
Holy crap, she HAS? Good Lord, baby! Take a day off, already!
Its not your fault.
See, regardless of how I feel and have framed your own success lately, you still do what you are supposed to do. You pay attention to everything around you. You keep track of who is in the Coalition, what their motivations are, what actions they take. You walk into every match knowing your opponent far better than they know you, and as such, you have a plan for them, regardless of whether or not it succeeds. You are ready for them.
Raab is not.
See, I COULD mock your partner for his shitty-as-fuck ERMAHGERD I NEED TO DISAPPEAR FOR SEVEN DAYS TO BECOME MENTALLY TOUGH routine he does going into every match, because that is SO TOTES LAME that it bears the need for a capslock. And I COULD mock him for having the majority of his recent work being in Ground Zero; ya know, the cringe-worthy fed that features Amanda “lets post pics of my feet and my butthole, like, my ACTUAL BUTTHOLE on Twitter because wrestling I guess” Cortez and “I’m known for stealing other people’s promotional videos” Equinox as champions? Hell, I COULD even mock him for letting a loser like Devlin chase him away from the eye of the public, but I don’t mock him for ANY of that. No, he has something far more relevant to our match that I can mock him for:
He won’t be ready.
Oh, I’m sure he THINKS he will be. I’m sure he THINKS that his trips into isolation will help him. I’m sure he THINKS that beating Jet in a shocker only eclipsed by Mizore beating Ava will help him. Hell, he probably even thinks that his match with Kenzi, regardless of who got their hand raised, will help him be ready. But he won’t be. And here is why:
So much of this business is about preparing for your opponent, right? Like, a huge chunk? Both you and I understand the importance of having a game plan. Of researching your opponents, watching tape, getting into both their heads and their wrestling style and prefered moveset. But Raab? He doesn't. He has said, on multiple occasions now, that he doesn’t know a damn thing about this company and doesn’t give a flying fuck about learning about it. He would rather just kinda...what...experience it? Learn about his opponents as he fights them?
What a STUPID FUCKING IDEA!!!!
Think about it, Phrixy! What if he went, “Hey, I don’t know a thing about this Necron dude, but I think I’ll just run at him.”
Squished flat.
“Hey, I don’t know a thing about this Eden chick, but I’m gonna accept her flirtations and sleep with her and think it’ll all be okay.”
Screwed harder than Pierce (and, like, half the roster; sers, Auntie: Learn to close those legs, yo!)
“Hey, this Donovan guy seems silly, probably an easy win.”
We all saw how Horizons went last year.
Get the picture? This dude thinks that he can walk into a match, ANY match, and just wing it? Just figure shit out on the fly? Against me and Kenzi?! Holy FUCK! We’re talking about a full 50% of the WrestleStock Cup winners in one shot! A team which includes the most recent winner and the person how holds more Cup victories than ANYONE (that would be me, tobvs). We are talking about a team which has lost one (ONE!) match together, who has NEVER lost a title match, and who have such synchronicity that we might as well be one person with, like, two heads, four boobs, and eight limbs!
So, I am going to tell you something much akin to what I told Eden last time:
Your partner will not be there for you.
Again, I know he THINKS he will be. But his particular brand of MEH, which includes repeating himself over and over again in his promos to fill up time, will just be something for us to exploit. And while you are doing your thing and trying to hit your flashy moves (well, flashy a decade ago, I’m sure) with your silly flippy-shit style, we’ll be dissecting Raab piece by piece. I’ll kick his legs as Kenzi goes for high-impact. I’ll Pigeon Wing him while Kenzi stops his face into the curb. I’ll drive him into the Abyss while Kenzi somehow also flips into her Blockbuster (we’re still working on that). And all of his “I’ll just figure it out” shit will lead you to your next L on the #CoolRankings.
So in the end? Your surprisingly successful time during the festival will have just been the beginning of a road leading to another bout of disappointment for you this year. And after? I hope you take your frustration out on your partner. I hope you beat the crap out of him and really let Fear out of his cage. Because, since his whole bit is “...um...whatever?” he’ll never see it coming.
Mind the flames, Phrixy. I’d hate to see you get burned in our revolution.
Kenzi Grey-Lacklan is enjoying a few minutes along in the suite she shared with her wife. She had been working herself to the bone ever since WrestleStock, doing every endorsement deal, autograph signing, even Bar Mitzvah appearances, to finance Sarah’s lifestyle after they had been cut off from the family money outside of a modest “allowance.” She took very little time off, but she had had the entire day to herself, with no commitments to UGWC or Queen City, nothing to do for the LFL or Dark Goddess Productions, and with Sarah out of town on one of her own projects. She missed her wife, of course, but she also relished the moment to just do NOTHING.
She sits practically nude at their computer in their suite, just sitting in a pair of Cotton’s Candies panties, trying not to sweat in the crushing heat of a Southern California August. Her braids were loosely tied back to be pulled off her neck and she had a cool glass of iced tea next to her while she tried to play a game. She didn’t understand a single word of this Skryim game that Sarah liked to play online with their friend Manny, but she wasn’t dead yet, so that was a plus. She had made Thespina, her bard character from their D&D games, and Sarah said that there was a way to turn her into a werewolf, so that sounded cool.
Dark eyes pop open as she hears keys in the door. Was Sarah home already? She didn’t expect her until dinner. She smirks to herself as she realizes the scene her wife was about to walk in on, and the REAL games that were about to commence. She gave the Cool Kids Gaming team crap about how all her character on Keeping Up with the Cool Kids game seemed to talk about was sex, but, if she was being honest with herself, she thought about it all the time with her wife. Maybe they would-
“Totes”
“Obvs”
“Legit”
“Amazeballs”
Eyes go wide as she hears voices from the other side of the door. Young voices. Teenage voices. Fang Gang voices. She panicked as the door opened and she heard Sarah’s voice.
“Now, keep in a single file as you take the tour, okay? I don’t want any wayward pigeons!”
“SHIT!”
The computer chair fell to the floor as Kenzi RAN to their bedroom. What the HELL was Sarah doing?! She felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment as she threw a robe around her mostly naked body and peered through the cracked door and shook her head at the scene before her. Sarah, dressed in one of her most mind-numbing “Lacklanlander” outfits she owned, a green and grey number straight out of Victorian England with a tall hat and matching parasol strung across her shoulder, was followed into the room by what seemed to be a sea of 12- to 14-year old versions of her. She lost count after 15 members of the Fang Gang, the official PrincessTwilightSexyFang Podcast fan club, filled the room, each wearing some wrestling or band tshirt, and several of them wearing Sarah’s own distinctive “wings” eye makeup. Kenzi shook her head as one of them even had braids that matched her own, as well as a “Pedophile’s Candy” tshirt. She should NOT be wearing that shirt at her age!
“Now, who can tell me the first time that Mackenzie and I worked as a tag team?”
A sea of hands shot up, each as excited as Hermione on Day One of potions, a reference that Kenzi HATED knowing. Her wife and friends were SO FREAKIN’ WHITE and it was rubbing off on her. She needed to spend more time with Cartier. Sarah pointed at the first hand which had sprung up and the owner of it answered with a smile.
“May 23rd, 2017, in United Kingdom Wrestling Federation. Kenzi filled in for your ‘demon’ friend Edaeya and you guys beat up Jack Tillman and DC Wiland.”
Kenzi rolled her eyes. Edaeya was one of the MANY bitches trying to fuck her wife. They were EVERYWHERE. Luckily, that one disappeared as quickly as she popped up, and hadn’t been heard of since.
“Excellent job!”
Sarah reached into her pocket, pulled out a small bright pink object that could only be candy, and threw it to the child.
“Now, Team Kickass would begin a run as a tag team across several companies that only had ONE single blemish, and that was against the Boardwalk Angels in Ladies All Star, and there is NO shame in that. Those bitches be tough. However, and this is a point that our upcoming opponents in the Coalition need to understand, this ONE blemish was followed up by a MONSTER run as the Candaian Empire Champions.”
“Its a thing!”
Kenzi sighed as the “flock” of Fang Gangers said one of her wife’s catchphrases as one and without prompting. “Making things a thing” had been Sarah’s “thing” as long as she had known her, and “Canada” becoming “Canda” had been because of her refusal to admit to a typo on Twitter when jaw-jacking with someone her father used to wrestle. Jaw-jacking on twitter, and refusing to apologize for ANYTHING, was part of who her wife was at her very CORE.
“Now, as you can see-”
She led them to their display case, a beautiful armoire they had shipped in from Maine, in one of the corners that held their title belts, plaques, and trophies.
“-the Empire of Canda championships still have our names on them because we were never defeated for them. Funnily enough, there has been some debate on social media lately about champions who leave companies, but like MOST arguments on Twitter, they are one-sided statements provided without context. In our OWN case, after we TORE through the competition with a record of six wins and ZERO losses and DEMOLITIONED all the other teams, we split after the management’s failure to keep people from jumping everyone and attacking them with chairs and baseball bats.”
Sarah adjusts her glasses, which Kenzi thought were cute no matter WHAT she said, and smirked.
“Kinda like Necron in the Coalition. Mayhap they will learn from the Empire’s mistakes.”
Ugh. That smug smirk of Sarah’s. Kenzi loved her wife, to DEATH, but FUCK she was a smug bitch!
“N-E-Ways, the point is that, when together, we are practically unbeatable, which is something that Phrixy and Raab cannot and will not have. After all, we have beaten them both individually, with I beating Phrixy and my Beloved defeated Raab the other day, and when brought together, they are no more than oil and water without an egg to bring them together. Can anyone guess what OUR egg is?”
Hands shot up and answers came out without being called on.
“Sex?”
“Underwear football?”
“Gross sex?”
“Firestarter Clothing??”
“Weird sex?”
“Dark Goddess Productions?”
“Weirdly gross sex?”
Sarah’s eyes grew wide under all the answers but then she nodded.
“Yes, actually. All of the above. Yet, none at all. The REAL answer is Burger King.”
A sea of raised eyebrows. Even Kenzi had to wonder what her wife was going on about.”
“Follow me, pigeons.”
She walked backward, toward their bedroom, and continued to speak.
“Our courtship had numerous ups and down, that proverbial rollercoaster, if you will, which ultimately has made us stronger, a bond which Phrixy and Raab can never understand, much less have themselves. There are a few items I cherish, talismans, you could say, which represent those milestones. Tobvs, there are the usual things like pictures, our wedding dresses, the ‘Phat Daddy’ black diamond ring I put on her finger, and the like, but the REAL memento of our journey is from Burger King.”
Sarah spun as she reached open the door and pushed it, and Kenzi yelped as she was pushed back. Sarah’s eyes met hers, the surprise in them no doubt as evident as what she felt, and the “pigeons” all came to a stop. Gasps and delighted giggled came out of them as they realized who she was and she gave them a warm smile.
“Hey, guys!”
She looked at Sarah but then noticed that her wife’s eyes had glazed over beneath her glasses. Those glazed eyes were looking somewhat downward and, tracking the gaze, realized that Sarah was staring at her chest. That was when she realized that the robe she grabbed to cover her nakedness was extra thin, and it was CLEARLY EVIDENT that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath them. The Grey-Lacklans led a very public life, one which Kenzi secretly wished they didn’t have, as she would much rather the two of them run away and disappear to be alone together forever, and the size and color of her breasts and their individual parts had been a hot topic of discussion on Twitter earlier in the week, much to her embarrassment. And was that DROOL coming from Sarah? Was her wife DROOLING as she ogled her in front of these kids?!
“SELENA!”
Sarah snapped out of her daze as with a start at the exclamation of her middle name. Her pale cheeks blushed, too. Good. Let her be embarrassed for looking at her like that in front of KIDS.
“Hey, Beloved! I didn’t know you were going to be here!”
Kenzi grimaced as she looked back at her.
“...neither did I…”
But whether Sarah didn’t notice Kenzi’s annoyance at being interrupted unexpectedly, or just didn’t care, she wasn’t, but she continued on with her tour like her half-naked wife was nothing to even remark on.
“At some point last year, my then-girlfriend Mackenzie took me ‘out’ to break some news to me. Now, when I take HER out, it is usually to some place with culture and amazeballs food. But when SHE took ME out, it was to a Burger King. She thinks she is SO FREAKIN’ FUNNY, let me tell you. Now, it was during that meal that she told me that not only HAD she been married before...she still WAS!”
Eyes opened wide and a voice filled with wonder said:
“Peter Van Parker.”
“Ooooohs!” and “Ahhhhhs!” filled the room, as well as a whispered “He was SO brave!” Kenzi felt warmly about her ex-husband, THE Peter Van Parker, who died tragically while serving his nation as an astronaut late last year. Sarah held a special amount of loathing for him, but she loathed EVERY person that Kenzi had so much even THOUGHT of smiling at, so that wasn’t all that special. Her unjustified bouts of jealousy were sweet but annoying.
“Yes, PVP. It was an odd situation, and I was somewhat less than pleased-”
Kenzi coughed at that. “Somewhat” was an angry explosion in the Burger King.
“-but we persevered. We communicated, worked together, and in the end, they were able to take care of the paperwork which let them go their separate ways. Mind you, by ‘paperwork’ I mean ‘stopped saying they were married because of a marriage license written on a Hooters napkin,’ but still. N-E-Ways…”
She reached her side of their bed and opened the drawer she had on her table where she kept most of her jewelry. Of which there was a lot. Bitch had expensive taste. But what she pulled out was not expensive, was not covered in diamonds or gems, and it warmed Kenzi’s heart in a way few things could have:
The paper Burger King crown she had placed on her head.
“...this is one of my most prized possessions, little pigeons. In this crown lies the truth of the Team Kickass bond in ways that some thrown-together team like Raab and Phrixy will never understand. It holds our love and our anger. It holds our singing and our fights. It holds our highs and our lows. It is as precious to me as any Jimmy Choo shoe or Coach purse. Because it holds the truth of how we have lived our lives nearly every minute of every day for nearly two years:”
She looked at Kenzi and her red eyes shown with unshed tears.
“Together.”
“AHHHHHHHHH!”
Kenzi felt her own eyes tear up as the Fang Gang let out that loud “Ahhhh” at their sappiness. Kenzi pushed her way toward Sarah, taking her in a hug, and whispered a word or two of what was going to happen later, and she smiled as Sarah’s cheeks grew red again. Kenzi gave her a nip on her ear as they kids began to scatter and look at all their pictures, but then panic filled her as she heard a door creak open.
“What's thi-?”
Kenzi RAN to the door and slammed it shut, throwing her body in front of it. She did NOT need some KID being scarred for LIFE by seeing THAT room. All she needed was some stupid kid’s parents asking about how her child MAY have seen something that looked like, but TOTALLY WASN’T, a throne equipped with handcuffs, a whip, blindfolds, and six digital video cameras all at different angles.
“Hey, who wants ice cream!”
A cheer rose up from the crowd, including from Sarah.
“Roxy Cotton will be there, too!”
The cheer died off as Fang Gangers started to look at their cell phones to check the time and small comments about how they had somewhere to be could be heard.
“Um...and Angie, too?”
Silence.
And then an explosion of joy.
“YAAAAASSSSS!”
“OHH EMMM GEEE!”
“I CAN DIE HAPPY!”
“ANGIE IS THE BEST! ANGIE NUMBER ONE!”
“OBVS! OBVS! OBVS!”
Kenzi could only shake her head as the “pigeons” lead their Matron out the door, arms rising into the air with their “OBVS!” chant, and to their date with destiny that was ice cream with Angie Vaughn.
Sarah walked atop the room of that Waldorf on slippered feet, holding a shawl around her chest to ward off a pleasant chill, her eyes taking in the Beverly Hills landscape. It was still dark, though small spots of gold announced the sun rising soon, and she found much peace in the quiet. Smoke from the cigarette in her mouth billowed around her head, dancing circles around the platinum hair pulled into a loose tail, led by the gentle breeze. But her focus was quickly taken in by the reason for her 4 AM stroll: The cooing of pigeons.
She approached the small aviary with a grimace. She had been trying to contact Eden Morgan for TWO WEEKS now. Eden hadn’t talked to her since their match on Synergy and it was really starting to bother her. She wanted to talk to her about what happened during their match but she had gotten NOTHING from her. At first, she had tried to be practical with her texts:
All’s fair, yeah?
No response. She tried being a little more emotionally honest.
It WAS an honor, ya know.
No response. She had started to get mad.
YOU brought in the poison, ya know!
No response. Days went by and she ignored her texts, ignored her tweets, ignored her letters. She was just about SHOCKED when she finally talked her a little bit on her birthday, and she had tried to be funny again, but that didn’t really go anywhere. And then, a FULL WEEK LATER, she sneaks in the box with the shoe and letter. So she tried to be funny again the next day.
Where’s my other shoe, hoe?!
No response.
Righty is lonely without Lefty!
No response.
Jesus FUCK, Eden! What do you WANT from me?!
No response. She had started to worry as the second week bore on. She wanted to talk to her about being cleared to wrestle full-time, if she chose to do so. She wanted to talk about her upcoming anniversary and perhaps seek advice. She wanted to talk about the latest Vogue cover model with someone who understood. She talked to Ichabod every few days, and he just about fell over laughing when she told him about her plans for the first Synergy after Day of Reckoning, but that just wasn’t the shame.
She missed her friend.
Sarah sighs as she finds Winefred resting in the cage, the letter still strapped to her ankle. She had sent letters every few days, but the faithful carrier pigeon couldn’t find Eden. It was like she had fallen off the face of the earth. She hadn’t even seen a single tweet from her in a week, not since before Synergy. Maybe she was just preparing for Necron? But why shut HER out?
Sarah looks up, red eyes taking in more gold in the sky as the sun started to rise. It was only hours before the excitement began. Hours before they boarded the plane to Minnesota to defend their Co Op championships. Hours before they solidified who doinanent Team Kickass and the Cool Kids were as Angie defeated Ava for the final time and Roxy became the new Chaos Champion. Hours before-
An owl’s hoot made her freeze. Sarah had many personalized notification sounds on her phone. Angie’s texts were a clip of the two of them harmonising on “Let It Go!” together. Roxy’s was the ClingClingCling of her cam show transactions. Kenzi’s was of her moaning, a sound which always made her wife turn purple with embarrassment when they texted one another in public. And the owl?
Eden.
Hey
Are you okay?
Kinda
Haven’t heard from you…….
Been busy.
Oh
Um
Been trying to get ahold of you
I noticed. 37 notifications. Really?
Yeah...well…
Um….
Are WE okay?
Why wouldn’t we be?
Oh...ya know...that whole “Injecting you with a paralytic poison while my goody two-shoes wife wasn’t looking and you leaving a creepy message about it the next week” thing
You owe me
What does that even MEAN?!
It means that Ichabod isn’t the only one who can teach you lessons
Sarah stared at her phone for several seconds. Her eyes moved rapidly as she thought, that odd quirk that she had later learned was actually a medical condition, and chewed her lips
And what is THIS lesson?
That you owe me.
See you tonight
Sarah looked up from her phone and out at the rising son, her sensitive eyes already finding the glare painful, and pondered.
~~FIN~~
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2013, '18, '23 
