Post by cooltubesource on Nov 17, 2018 14:14:35 GMT -5
~~November 7th, 2018~~
“Good night, Fang Gang.”
Sarah shuts off her phone and lets out a deep sigh into the dark room. Her body shudders as she sits in the chair at the desk within the bedroom of her hotel room. It had been a full year since the darkest day of her life, a full year since she had been attacked and kidnapped by Jacob Hargrave, and the emotions running through her were a mottle mixture of grief, hatred, sorrow, guilt, and love. Red eyes find the lump sleeping in her bed, her beloved wife who slumbered with braids falling in a cascade around her caramel face, and the feeling of love pushed all of the other emotions to the side.
“I mean it all, Beloved. I came back from the Abyss for you.”
The high-pitched Londoner accent of her mother pierces the dark, but seems to be swallowed up by the quiet of the late hour. She looks up at the clock on her nightstand and sees the digital numbers tell her that it was 2:45 in the morning. No sleep for her tonight, not with all of the thoughts going through her head. She pushes herself up to her feet and, with a distinct limp in her left leg, makes her way towards the restroom. She shuts the door and flicks on the light, grimacing as her eyes slam shut in pain. She slowly opens them, letting the light seep in gently to the red eyes which have so much trouble with brightness, and casts a critical look in the mirror.
Sarah’s bright hair was a mess, the silver and white strands pulled into a rough tail, in no way resembling the intricate bun, hive, or set of braids which is usually did. Her eyes looked sunken, with dark circles underneath, the albino’s moonlight skin seeming to look pale and sickly instead of the healthy frost it normally shone with. Lithe fingers reach up and take off her glasses, but her eyes nearly cross with how blurry her own image becomes, and she quickly puts them back into play on her nose and over her ear. She had always known that her eyes would deteriorate, and had secretly worn contact lenses for years, often with different eye shades for fashion, but now she couldn’t even tell the difference between Kenzi’s freckles without them unless they were up close.
Those eyes behind the glasses take a look at her body and she nearly groans in consternation. She was making strides towards getting back to her fighting weight from a year ago, but she would always be her own worst critic in that regard. Her shoulders were still large, of course, with the detailed tattoo of her father’s alabaster mask on her right shoulder standing out nicely with the recently added shading, and her biceps and triceps were lined with veins, but her core annoyed her. The area below her breasts was not as tight as it should have been, and the small pair of string undergarments she wore to fight off what was for her a terrible Southern California heat hid nothing to her critiques. Her abs were not visible. Her waste was too slender. Her hips…
She smirks for a moment as her eyes climb over her hips. They were not as wide as they should have been, as her lower half was nowhere near where it once was, but a few inked letters on the inside of her hip bone jumped out to her. From this angle, she could see the letters “AUG,” the beginnings of “August 26th, 2017,” the date of her wedding tattooed down the inside of her hip and to her pelvis, the spot on the body she considered to be the most intimate there was, a spot only a lover you trusted could touch. She smirks again as she thinks of how much pain she had been in during that tattoo, and then a third time as thoughts of Kenzi’s own wedding tattoo: “SELENA” written in a beautiful script...in a location only SHE could ever see, which had to have been FAR more painful.
Her eyes move down her hips and to her legs and her smirk turns back to a dour grimace. Her legs had once been like tree trunks, famed for their ability to squeeze out a man’s soul and send it along to the Abyss. Nearly six years of squats and deadlifts three times a week, the majority of those years under the tasking gaze of her father, had built a machine the likes of which even Claire Rogers turn green with envy. But the time in the chair had worn away her bulk, and while she was seeing improvements, all she saw were sickly twigs.
With a sigh, Sarah walks forward, removes her glasses again, and washes her face in cold water, body shivering with the shock. She wanted that shock. Needed it. She refused to sleep right now. Refused to dream. The dreams of her future babies, of Brynlynn and Lorelai, ripped out her heart, and she would fall to the ground and weep if Jacob found his way into her dreams again, too. After drying her face, she neatly hangs the towel back on the rack and straightens it, always conscious of things fitting in their place. She loved how her wife was a slob, loved how Kenzi’s personality would never be held down by her own, and how that extended even to things like towels on racks.
Lights click off as Sarah walks out of the bathroom and limps her way back to her desk. While the battle with Vain had been emotionally draining, the Hard 10 match with Maggie had left far deeper issues for her. She would likely be limping for a few days. She collapses into her chair with a grunt, careful to not be too loud as to wake up her spouse. After a moment, she reaches into the desk and pulls out items which several of her peers had come to know, and perhaps even dread: A pen attached to a long black feather, a vial of red ink, red wax candle, and a pad of lined paper. She sets them all on the desk, sets up her phone to flash down, dips the pens nib into the ink, and puts pen to paper.
Dearest Magdalena,
Are we to head into the breach again, dear friend? Are we to ram our heads against one another, as two alpha lionesses from competing prides, for a belt of gold whose importance far outweighs what the Wallaces and Pierces of the world give it? Do we, as I have said before, find ourselves running short on time before we face one another for far higher stakes than the two rookies of 2017 thought would be possible so soon? Do we find ourselves crossing the hemisphere at Horizons?
The hope of not just 2019 but the entire future of this company rests on our shoulders, dear friend. We are the prototype of what little girls across the world aspire to be. We are the reason why the Court bound together last year, the reason why they tried to hold onto their places and positions in life. We are what fills them all with fear. We are why Phrixus loses two-thirds of his matches. We are why Morgan and Baal spend their time thinking about anything but wrestling. We are why Wallace employs both proxy and fraud to hold onto his title. We are why Ichabod and Hastings seek out new proteges. We are the truth to the lie of Dynamo, the figure of aspiration to the THOTS, the red and black of the revolution.
We, dear friend, are the future of wrestling.
My mind has found itself upon the heavy subject of friendship as of late, what with all of the silly “frenemy” nonsense bandied about by our peers. Are we friends? Could we have been? And what does friendship mean? When I stepped into the world of professional wrestling as Daddy’s valet, I tried to make friends. You may even know a few, now that I think about it. Kessler’s daughter. Kitty Galore. That odd Edaeya. Stacy Sterling. Remember her? Superman’s favorite civilian. Silly, that.
I was ready and willing to throw them all into the Lake of Fire if need be for success in this business. It was not until Mackenzie, and then Angelica and Roxy, that I understood friendship for what it is. Love, for what it is. They empower me. Lift me up. Push me. Give me something to which I aspire.
Do you?
Do you empower me?
Do you lift me up?
Do you push me?
Do I aspire to see you eye to eye?
I wonder.
How many letters have we sent one another over the past year and a half, dear friend? How many words have gone between us? Will posterity look at us and our collected works, perhaps in some kind of holographic museum, and see our complicated relationship for what it is? Will they look at us as we do some of the Founding Fathers, great men who battled with words in such respect and dignification, and praise their correspondence? Will they see us as Adams and Jefferson, opponents and friends in equal accord, battling opposing ideas and views until the very day they both perish?
More like Hamilton and Burr, I suppose.
Whether or not we meet at Horizons is up to me, dear friend. One of our peers, as lowly as she is, referred to Wallace as the End Boss, but we both know better. For me, you are the End Boss. For you, I am the End Boss. An eternal struggle in a dungeon of ever-plunging floors. But if I wish to meet you there in that labyrinth, I must defeat a Mid Tier boss first.
I will meet you at Horizons, dear friend.
Or perish in the effort.
Your obedient,
S.S.G-L
Sarah sits up from the desk and looks over her work. With a nod, she folds the letter, placing it into an envelope, and sealing it with the wax seal of her sigil, a firebird in flight. She stands, making her silent way to the sliding glass door leading to their balcony, and slips outside, careful to keep the door quiet. She gently closes the door behind her and looks out into the dark night of her Beverly Hills view. Her Lacklanlander blood, generations of the family from the cold confines of Maine, push away the supposed chill of the morning, not trifled in the least by her bare clothing.
“ahhhh ahhhh ahhhh AHHHHHH ahhhh ahhhh ahhhh ”
Sarah’s light singing voice fills the air with an arpeggio, a clear F-A-C-F-C-A-F ascending and descending in the well-practiced vocal exercise. The flutter of wings announces the arrival of a bright white carrier pigeon. Sarah ties the letter to the bird’s foot, whispers the name of the recipient in its head, and gives a soft kiss to its head. Away the bird flies, leaving Sarah to her early morning thoughts.
Sarah is the best, Sarah number one
As the ultimate celebration of what today represents:
You and me.
Date night.
Dancing and dinner.
Wear something slutty 😈
As the ultimate celebration of what today represents:
You and me.
Date night.
Dancing and dinner.
Wear something slutty 😈
Kenzi, Owner of the SWEETEST booty in ALL the land
Where we going?
Where we going?
Sarah is the best, Sarah number one
Reservations at Spagos and on the list for Bootsy Bellows
Reservations at Spagos and on the list for Bootsy Bellows
Sarah’s legs were weak as they were sat at their table. She had been wobbly ever since getting destroyed in the shower by an avarice wife earlier that morning in their hotel. And in the elevator. And in the car. Kenzi was as clearly as emotional about the significance of the day as she was, and Sarah had a feeling that she would be walking funny for a few days. Which made her blush even more. She STILL felt like her face was flushed as she looked at Kenzi and her smirk. That FUCKING smirk. Know-it-all…
“You’re lucky that you are cute,” she said, as she looked at the menu, the blush slowly leaving her cheeks to return to their normal pale moonlight. She smirked herself, a quick dose of memories flooding into her, but then her face turned thoughtful.
“Hey...I have a question. Something I have been thinking about lately.”
“Yeah, baby?” said Kenzi, brown eyes on her and giving Sarah her full attention. Sarah got lost for a moment in those eyes, and as she pulled them away, they found themselves traveling down and getting lost again, this time in an obscene amount of bosom. At some point last year, Sarah had charged Kenzi with the demand of “wear something slutty,” and Kenzi had responded with a sheer top and nothing underneath, which had found her assaulted by her wife on the dirty floor of a nightclub bathroom. This time, she had gone with a sparkling black dress that reflected like a disco ball, topped by red that pushed her cleavage up to her neck.
It was with effort that Sarah pulled her eyes away from her wife’s taunting chest.
Great effort.
She purses her lips together in thought for a moment after shaking her head to clear the daze, her tall weave of platinum hair wiggling a touch with the movement. Her emerald earrings caught the light and reflected against the diamond dust embedded into her matching green dress, the entire ensemble making her natural red and platinum coloring pop.
“At Rising Stars…before we...well...you know...”
She sets the menu down to look Kenzi in the face, her face again turning a bright red. The fact that their first time being intimate with one another being backstage at the Ladies All-Star pay per view event was legend among their wider circle of friends, though she desperately wished Angie was ignorant of that fact.
“Did you know what you were doing?”
Kenzi’s face slackened a little.
“I knew...”
She was clearly being cautious here, which all but confirmed Sarah’s suspicions. What seemed like a lifetime ago, the two had decided that Sarah was going to “help Kenzi stretch” before the show, but both were well aware of the direction they were headed. And quickly. Sarah had showed up in all of her Blood Princess glory, with a black and red dress of puffery and full makeup, and then immediately stripped in front of her best friend down to her workout attire in order to “help” her “stretch.”
The pretense did not last long.
“...but honestly when you weren’t attacking me like a savage I felt more at ease. Like maybe it wasn’t some throw away deal...like Song told me you’d be.”
Sarah suddenly clenched her hands so tightly on the menu that her nails dug into the palms of her hands. The two were very comfortable with one another about their past lovers, even the ones who had nearly wrecked their marriage on accident, except for one person. Kenzi was dating the Elder member Song in what was an emotionally abusive relationship, with Kenzi not allowed to be herself, and everything about the woman often sent Sarah into fits of rage. Invoking her name was a favorite tactic of Roxy.
“At the time, I didn’t think that we’d be together...I was sure that you were just a hoe.”
Kenzi burst into a hearty laugh. Sarah’s face falls flat and her eyes narrow and again stifles the silent scream over the very idea of Song.
“But you were special...it just took time for me to see just how special you were.”
Sarah’s face brightens by the end, and she has to offer up one of her surprisingly light giggles. After all, they were both WELL aware how easy Sarah was at the time.
“I know that we have joked before about how you have ZERO D against me...and still don’t, I might add...but I didn’t have any for you, either. You had me wrapped around your finger from the word ‘go.’”
She shakes her head and giggles as she looks back at the menu.
“Thank you for never giving up on me. Even when everyone said you should.”
This was more true than most knew. Nearly everyone that Kenzi knew had told her that Sarah was a bad idea. Being the ex-girlfriend, Song certainly had a biased view, but the amount of people who agreed with her was staggering. Kenzi leans forward suddenly and kisses Sarah loudly and wetly, ignoring how they were in public and how people might feel.
“Love you. Always have.”
Sarah giggles again before taking a double handful of braids and plunging her tongue down Kenzi’s throat to some shocked gasps. Good for one goose is good for the other. But then she pushes her off and turns back down to her menu, and adjusts the glasses on her face which had become violently askew.
“Love you, too. Now shit up and buy me something expensive.”
She turns the page and says, with clear nonchalance in her voice:
“I hear the lobster tail is freshly caught today. Interested?”
She sounded as uninterested as possible, and Kenzi responded in the same manner as she turned to her own menu.
“When am I not?”
Lobster tail was a code between them and an item featured on their ten point “relationship contract,” an agreement which began as two lovers who were weary of one another and became something which turned into the rings on their fingers. Kenzi’s unnecessarily massive black diamond purchased by Sarah, and Sarah’s thin and simple row of tiny rubies with a diamond of an elegant cut found by Kenzi.
“Looks like that All-You-Can-Eat special is on the menu. Better work off all those calories on the dance floor tonight!”
She turns to the drinks page, still full of nonchalance.
“I plan on you being so spent that you won’t be able to leave your bed for days!”
Kenzi narrows her eyes and shoots Sarah a dirty look.
“...game on Friday...”
Sarah snickers again. Their Lingerie Football League was a venture which everyone found enjoyment for a variety of reasons.
“Good thing you’ve become a pocket passer. Your legs are going to be too shaky to scramble. From all the dancing.”
Kenzi sighs as she turns back to her menu. Sarah giggles again and then sets her menu back down and gives Kenzi a serious look.
“I have a real question this time.”
Kenzi raises her eyebrow and sets her menu down. Sarah takes her hands, with the two immediately running their fingers over each other’s rings in what has become a familiar habit over the last fifteen months.
“After Christmas...after we beautifully snowy white Christmas at home in Maine…I was thinking…”
She pauses for a moment and lightly licks the lips painted ruby to match her eyes, as per the usual.
“I was thinking of us spending a lot of time in Japan together. For training. And vacation. That Xpress training camp keeps sending you those letters about meeting with them, and I would love a chance to train with some super juniors, and I figure that we could make this the best second honeymoon that there has ever been. Thoughts?”
Kenzi looked at Sarah, her eyes seeming to fill with a deep love and affection. She squeezed her hand, then brought it to her mouth and kissed it.
“You know, I had always wanted to go there. When I was with Alex, she was supposed to take me...but things fell apart. I had the tickets, so I went on my own...and I had a terrible time. I knew it wasn’t the place...it was all the terrible choices I made in my life...”
Another kiss to her wife’s hand and a shiver rolled up Sarah’s spine.
“When you took me there for our honeymoon...I wondered if it was going to turn out okay or not…”
Sarah gave a small nod at that. They had learned of the small “hiccup” getting in the way of the legality of their marriage on the plane ride, and while they had made the most out of it, there were moments of darkness during the trip.
“...it didn’t turn out okay...it turned out magical.”
Kenzi smiles wide, and Sarah returns the affection.
“You have been the best thing in my whole entire life. It wasn’t the country that made it special...it was you. Wherever you go, I’ll be there and it will be the best place on the planet.”
Sarah squeezes Kenzi’s hands hard.
“Let’s do it! Two weeks? Three? Hell, a month! We’ll leave the day after Christmas!”
Kenzi squeezes back just as hard.
The Circle Television Network’s documentary team has won several awards over the years for their surprising high-quality work.
From Sidney to Kenzi: The Grey Legacy is a crashing, drive-by success
Le Bord de Dieu: Savior in the Streets, Ultraviolent in the Sheets
The Generic Heel: Colossal waste of time
Maria Salvatore: No One Cares
From the Mouth of BBs: The 5’ 9 ¾” Story of Angee Vaughan
And several more. Tonight the team works with the person who finished off the Le Bord de Dieu story back in April, Sarah Grey-Lacklan. Most within CTN were surprised when their cash cow, Kenzi Grey, first began working with the megalomaniacal albino in early 2017 with The Blood Princess Bride, a “film” recorded in a park across three days on Kenzi’s iPhone. The surprise continued when Kenzi cast Sarah in her first major motion picture, All That Glitters, in an important role, which was later rewritten to increase her part. And they, like many, had little faith in the duo when they became a couple, as their antics included public drunkenness, drug use, the assault of police officers, and more. But, twenty-two months after their initial project, the two were still going strong.
But even the team behind Dear Bordy were unsure of how to handle the scene they found in Studio Six at the CTN Studios:
Sarah Lacklan, dressed in one of her green Firestarter dresses that hugged her curves and left little to the imagination, sat in a chair, with a spotlight shining down into the center of a dark room, next to…
...er…
Maggie Lockheart.
Insert heavy usage of milquotes.gif
“Maggie” is a steel chair, the seat of which has been bashed and bent inward, and has a bright purple wig of long hair sitting atop its back. The dents throughout the seat have heavy makeup applied to the metal, with dark eyeshadow making it seem a raccoon, and purple lipstick matching the shade of the wig. Four mismatched black boots, each heavy, thick, and worn, cover up the legs of the chair.
“Hey, BUDDY!”
Sarah’s voice is bright and chipper and there is a smile full of vicious glee on her face. She has a set of 5x7 cards in her hands and she clicks her black nails against them, the tiny red and orange flames catching in the spotlight. She reaches over with one hand and slaps the seat of the chair.
“You have NEVER looked as good as you do after our Hard Ten match! How do ya feel, BUDDY?”
What-
We-
Oh
We get it now.
That’s the chair that Sarah slammed so hard into Maggie’s head that it left an imprint of her face.
Oh
Oh Sar-Sar
“I feel GREAT, Sarah! Thanks for asking!”
The CTN cameras move away from Sarah and “Maggie” and see that, in a darkened corner, stands a brunette with a fair complexion holding a matching set of 5x7 cards in her hands. Most know her as Intern Number Twenty Three, the mastermind behind most of the content available on CoolTube, but all of the UGWC fans were introduced to her as Sar’s old buddy Ashley two weeks ago. To be fair, her impression of Maggie’s “New Yorker by way of Alaskan homeless shelter/orphanage/cardboard box in some alley” accent is better than expected.
“That is TOTES wonderful to hear, Mags! It is SUCH a pleasure having you here for this interview! I’ve been SO ser amazecakes excited for it that I have been having the Legion push it all week across ALL forms of media! And now that we’re here, how do YOU feel?”
“I feel amazeballs, BUDDY! In fact, I have been looking forward to this SO much that I haven’t bathed in seven days...a whole TWO DAYS longer than normal!”
“Oh, believe you me, I TOTES understand that, BUDDY! A whole pod of Dynamos would rather beach themselves than smell you right about now!”
“No kidding!”
“Now, lets get to the nitty-gritty of why we are here. For those not keeping track at home, I was all set to hang up my UGWC-branded baby seal leather wrestling boots for the year after my failed attempt to defeat Alan Wallace at Battleground. Mind you, I still had a Chill obligation to meet, which was a match against my GOOD BUDDY-”
“I was so happy that I was quivering!”
“-and at least one more match in the Battlezone to defend my Hardcore Title, but other than that, I was done. But then Sir Fuckwad had to do that whole ‘ERMAHGERD I IZ DA REEL CH TITLE CHAMP YO’ dumbass shit and get me all riled up. Thus, the challenge I put down to you for Horizons and your acceptance-”
“I can’t WAIT for you to kick my ass, BUDDY!”
“-but THEEEEEN you out-Fuckwaded Fuckwad and said that, no matter WHAT happened, you were going to buy me into the match at Horizons. And there is NOW WAY that I am going to take any kind of charity from you, even though we are tobvs GOOD BUDDIES, ya know? Because I will NOT have ANYONE in this company think that this match was handed to me, or some other such nonsense. I AM worthy of carrying the title I never lost, and there is NOTHING that will take that away, which I made clear to Lord Hastings. And so, here we are.”
“That is a WONDERFUL summation, BUDDY! Even someone like ME would be able to follow that!”
“Thanks, BUDDY! Now, we are here tonight because I wanted to get your thoughts on our Horizons match, and how, as soon as Lacklan vs. Lockheart is signed, all of the prestige for the title which has been lost by Fuckwad and T-Pie this year will be restored. So tell me, Mags, what would you like to tell the world about tonight?”
“Reason Number Three: His shitty-”
“Um…”
Sarah looks confused at “Maggie,” then rolls her eyes at Ashley so hard that they seem to pop out the backside of her head.
“...you skipped a few cards, babe…”
Ashley narrows her dark eyebrows in confusion, looks at her cards, and then opens her mouth with a start.
“Oh! Dang! Sorry, boss!”
She clears her throat as Sarah turns back to the dented chair adorned by the wig and lipstick.
“We’ll try this again: So, Mags, what would you like to tell the world about?”
“Well Sarah, who I ADORE with ABSOLUTE rapture, I wanted to present the world with a list of the TOP FIVE reasons why YOU are a MUCH better opponent for me at Horizons!”
“Now way, are you craxy?! A list? Who would have thought that #TeamLackHeart would come up with a LIST together? You’d almost think that we are SO KILLER at lists that our audience of Fang Gangers just about demanded it! Now, I don’t want to take away TOO much of your spotlight-”
“Well, before you beat me clean for my title in nine days, anyway.”
“-so we should get RIGHT to it. Okay, BUDDY, what are the TOP FIVE reasons why I am a WAY better opponent for you than Jet?”
“You bet, BUDDY: Number Five: Unlike how when I look at Jet, I am a HUGE jelly-belly over your fashion!”
Sarah blushes and smiles.
“Wrll, there is nothing I can do to take THAT away from you, ya know? See, part of this whole ‘Entertainment Professional’ thing we do as not just wrestlers, but members of the Coalition roster, is that we are marketable faces for wrestling. YES, we have to be badass athletes, and YES we have to do things like be on time, and get paperwork submitted, and such. But we ALSO have to sell tickets. We ALSO have to generate interest in our shows. We ALSO have to ambassadors across the world for our sport. And there is NO ONE who is better at that than ME.
“Yes yes, I know that there are lamers who think that being tweetative is what gets the job done, or perhaps pulling an Orson where we scoff in boredom once every three years, or some such. But I am a MASTER at the marketing game, and have been from before I was even a pro. Hell, I’m the marketing GENIUS that, at the tender, and still quite voluptuous, age of sixteen, spearheaded a #VisitLacklanland campaign that, to this day, still makes people think that my homeland is a sovereign country! And over the past few years, my face has been on billboards across the country, in movies both small screen and large, cheering for the Lingerie Football League, and in interviews across all forms of media. And don’t EVEN get me started on Firestarter Clothing! Why-”
“Actually, BUDDY, that leads me to Number Four: His SHITTY TAKE on your supposed ‘focus’ on your brand!”
“Oh, #EffThat! That LAME ASS take of his back when we were heading into our Cooperative Title match back in August was wrong then and its wrong now. Here’s the dealio: His view that I, and by extension my Beloved, place just as much, if not more, weight on our various media deals as we do on this business is SO FOLLY-”
Several beats of silence. Sarah grunts and stomps her unnecessarily expensive heel into the floor.
“Oh! Um...sorry, BUDDY...now folly was it?!”
“It was SO FOLLY that not even YOU would find that a sensible argument.”
“Hey, now...right here, ya know…”
“Sorry, BUDDY, but that IS how shit the take is! And what sucks is that he’s not even the only one to take it, which just plain sucks, because it just shows me how few people ACTUALLY pay attention. YES, our media presence is MASSIVE! Movies! Television! The CoolTube app! Ladies underwear football! Thousands of interviews! And, yes, my name has been plastered all across those media venues, but you know what it says? What it ALWAYS says?
“Sarah Lacklan, UGWC Entertainment Professional.
“EVERYWHERE I go, people know that I am a wrestler for the Coalition. EVERYTHING I do brings eyeballs to our product overall and my matches in particular. EVERYONE I meets knows what I am doing next and who I am fighting. They know that I am a member of Chill. They know that I have the MOST wins in WrestleStock Cup history. They know that I have held two championship titles within this company. And no matter HOW he feels about it, Jet being a member of this roster from it’s founding days when he teamed with Calypso and lost at Dark Days has had nowhere NEAR as much exposure for the company as I have in the last year and a half.”
“Wow, BUDDY! That leads DIRECTLY into Number Three: His OTHER shitty take on you, about how you can rack up wins but never win the important ones!”
Sarah offers one of those legendary eye rolls.
“Oh, please. That IS a shitty take. I’m the person who makes the whole roster go ‘Oh, snap!’ whenever her name appears on the marquee. I’m the person who make people shake in their boots when they end up in title matches against. Hell, I’m the person who my own OPPONENTS are willing to cash in their own Global Dollars to face! When was the last time someone did that in order to face Jet?!”
“I certainly haven’t!”
“Obvs! And sers legit! And you know why? Because Jet has spent A LOT of the last year rattling off his accomplishments in order to make everyone bow down before him, listing title after title, in a plea for relevancy so thick that even a bloat of kemopotamuses would hide their wiggling ears in shame. The FACT is that Jet needs to get his litany of ‘big wins’ renewed! Hell, just look at THIS YEAR! He’s LESS than a coin flip in his matches, and if you only factor in ‘big’ matches for titles or on pay per view, the ones he LOVED to point out last year that I supposedly didn’t do well in, he’s ONLY a coin flip! Sure, he’s won five of those, with a Cooperative Title win in that glorified handicap match against Zane, his Trios victory with the Court, and that unnecessarily violent yet still narcoleptic match with Baal at Day of Reckoning, but he took MASSIVE Ls to Zane at WrestleStock, me and my Beloved for Cooperative Title LOSS number Seven, and YOU at Battleground! So for someone who has placed SO MUCH stock in those big wins, he needs to look in the mirror and beware of his own reflection.”
“Wow, okay. Number-”
“Oh! And ANOTHER thing! Remember Outlast? Remember when he stood in the middle of the ring and dropped a ‘bomb’ on Vain? Remember when he was all hot over his own shit to the delusional level of a Miss Parlour promo on Chill? When, in a fit of blatant unoriginality, he ripped off Eminem and hoped that everyone would bow down before his mighty glib? Keep that image in mind. Keep it close to your heart. Because THAT is the image of the modern day Jet and NOT the one he prays every night you will remember. THAT is the image of what the REAL Jet Somers looks like: A man in his mid-30’s who grows out his hair to hide the balding spots and launches Scuds without realizing that people like ME use Tomahawks. THAT is the image of the REAL Jet Somers. Outdated. Outclassed.”
“Wow...um...okay...that actually segues straight into Number Two, the #CoolKids are a MUCH better stable than the Court.”
“Wow, talk about an #ObvsPoint! Now, I am WELL aware that you personally would LOVE to be a member of the #CoolKids-”
“Guilty as charged!”
“-but we are HIGHLY selective, unlike the Court! Now, I have gone on at length...because, and you may not know this, but I can be a TOUCH gabby at times-”
“...never noticed…”
“-that the Court came together basically because of people like me. The Court came together in an attempt to combat the influx of world-traveling badasses who not only embarrassed the stalwart Coalition members with their new way of wrestling but made them realize that their tired tactics of doing the same shit over and over again and expecting audiences to be wowed was at an end. The Court literally existed in order to fend off ME and the #CoolKids. And what did all of their shenanigans get them? What did all of the manipulation of purchased cards and matches get them? A couple of title wins with HEAVY asterisks that aren’t backed up by any defenses worth writing home about.
“Check this: The COMBINED win and loss record of the Court during 2018, well, before them imploded, anyway, is 27-23-8. You know what that means? That means that the ERMAHGERD AMAZEBALLS WE IS DA COURT YO translated into either losing or walking away from a loss for a DQ or countout MORE than picking up the win. And when they DID win championship matches, they dropped those damn things right back to where they belonged. They won the Cooperative titles by beating up Zane in that aforementioned handicap match and then IMMEDIATELY lost them at Prison Break. And while they DID win them back at the Melee, they IMMEDIATELY dropped them to Team Kickass. They went 1-3 in the Global Tournament, with a full two thirds of their number being eliminated in the preliminary round, and the ONLY shot they had at singles gold resulted in Baal losing to YOU.”
“Man, did WrestleStock go well for the #CoolKids and me!”
“Tell me about it! To contrast the Court, MY team got to the finals of the Trios Tournament WITHOUT the need for an asterisk, beat them TWICE for the Cooperative titles, and DOMINATED at WrestleStock with the #AllCoolKids final. And SINCE then, since the Court fell apart because their whole reason for being was a sad attempt at salvaging their waning relevance, we have gone on to control Chill and the Cooperative division which Jet holds in such regard, with literally all FOUR of us dripping with all that glitters in that division. By ANY stretch of the imagination, the #CoolKids, the group which formed AROUND ME, has been LIGHT YEARS more successful than Jet’s hackneyed gathering of piecemeal bullishit.”
“Wow! Okay! Why don’t you tell me how you REALLY feel! Anyway, this brings us to the Number One reason why you are a MUCH better opponent for me to fight over the Cross-Hemisphere Title at Horizons: OUR match is what EVERYONE wants to see!”
“You have NO IDEA how right that is, BUDDY! Because when I say ‘#EyesOnME’-”
Sarah points at herself with her thumbs.
“-I MEAN IT! I am the Firestarter! The Blood Letter! The Red and Black! And EVERYONE in this business wants to see the two of us kicking the shit out of each other for what could very well be the TOP prize there is to offer! NO ONE wants to see you kick Jet’s ass two pay per view events in a row! NO ONE wants to see that old dog beaten into misery! NO ONE wants to see him FAIL to defeat you for the Cross-Hemisphere title, just like he did before, and Baal did before that, and Pierce did before that. Our audience DESERVES Lacklan vs. Lockheart. Our audience DESERVES the prestige for this championship which you and I will bring it. This match DESERVES a TRUE main event, since the World Title will be decided in a LATE NIGHT SQUASH MATCH between Vain and a gargantuan letdown. HORIZONS AND THE COALITION DESERVE THIS MATCH."
Sarah pauses, her breath coming in deep intakes and exhalations. She is on the edge of her seat, the cards in her hands flying through the air after having been lost in the grand waving of her arms, and the red eyes behind the thick glasses stare murder into the dented chair made up to look like her arch nemesis.
“WE deserve this match, BUDDY.”
Silence.
“Well...um...yes...yes! I agree, BUDDY! Thank you for your time! I am SO HAPPY that you took your PRECIOUS time to bless my LOWLY presence and lend credibility to me!”
Sarah breathes out slowly, her calm returning.
“You betcha, BUDDY!”
“AND CUT!”
Previously unseen bodies move as the lights in the room turn on, the CTN documentary team moving into action to take down lights and microphones. Sarah immediately reaches into her dress and pulls out an electronic cigarette and, within seconds, is leaning back in her chair and puffing out a plume of pink smoke, her face a sudden mask of calm.
“You okay, boss?”
Sarah turns to see Ashley walking up to her with a concerned look on her face.
“Yeah, Ash. I’m good.”
She leans forward and pushes the purple wig off the back of the chair next to her and points to it.
“Sit. Just be careful. I hit Mags REALLY HARD with it, so I don’t know how much weight it can hold!”
She laughs as the Legion member gingerly sits down and settles. Ashley raises her chin in a nod toward her high school friend-turned-employer.
“What’s with the e-cig?”
Sarah grimaces.
“My Christmas present to Kenzi. She doesn’t know it yet, but I’m looking to quit smoking for her by the time we see snow at home.”
She takes another puff of the device and sends the pink smoke billowing.
“Bleh. Just not the same. At least it smells good.”
The two sit in silence for a while as the CTN team works around them.
“So,” says Ashley cautiously, her tone clearly hesitant. “...you said some pretty harsh things about Jet.”
Sarah shrugs as she puffs.
“That’s the business, Ash.”
“Still...I thought you guys were friends?”
Sarah puffs in thought.
“Ya know, I have been thinking about the nature of friendship a lot lately. Sure, he and I were Outlast partners last year, and we’ve been cordial overall in that time, even when our factions were facing one another, but friend?”
She gives a shake of her head.
“We are not friends. I love my Beloved. I love Ang. I love Rox. But every single other person in this business?”
Another puff as she thinks.
“They can burn in my revolution for all I care. Because I and the #CoolKids WILL be the new pillars of this business for all of posterity to look to, to aspire to. Ya know, when I made my very first promotional video for the Coalition in May of last year for the Melee? I spoke directly to Jet. And Eden. And I told them that I was coming for them. And that they were gonna burn in my revolution.”
Puff of pink smoke.
“Time for Jet to find that out in a very personal way.”
The two old friends sit back as the crew works around them, Sarah’s words weighing down heavily.
~~FIN~~
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