08-13-2019, 01:15 PM
“YOU LIKE THAT DON’T YOU?”
A voice in a dark room, lit only by the bright shine of a cell phone.
“cunt...cunt”
The voice is high-pitched now.
“NOTHING GETS YOU OFF LIKE THIS”
Rough and gruff.
“...cunt...cunt...CUNT...CUNT!”
“YEAH! GET MAD! GET MAD MAD MAD ONLINE!”
“CUNTCUNTCUNT”
SLAM!
A burst of light as a door swings open and slams on its hinges. The light reveals Vinnie Lane on the floor with a Mini Morbid action figure (from the latest “Anarchy!” release of toys, which means he’s got a massive “0-4” across his forehead) in between his legs, with a second doll, that of Noah Jackson (the “CUNT!” version from the “War Games!” special edition release, because really, what’s the point of putting out a new doll if nothing has axly changed about his persona since his debut, right? Maybe add some “You’re NOT the father!” paperwork turned in by a Fuzz toy, or something?) in a VERY odd position. On all fours, bent back SO far as to almost be able to lick the top of Mini’s head, the Noah doll is CLEARLY taking it HARD from behind by Mini. And with his hands on each of them, Vinnie’s 5-inch tent pole (which is canon, bee-tee-dubs!) is pretty apparent. But so is the HORROR and SHAME on his face as the door opens to reveal the silhouette of EVERYONE’S favorite Anarchist who axly wins matches, Sarah Gr-
“GodDAMNit, Vinnie!”
Vinnie’s face curls into confusion as Sarah stumbles into the room, a drunken sway to go along with a slur in her words. The Firestarter is wearing her wrestling gear, black with red accents this time, a bottle of red wine is in her right hand, the liquid sloshing around enough to show that it is half empty. Vinnie quickly hides his toys, hoping in vain that the Anarchy Champion saw as little of that as Colonel Sanders, and gets to his feet.
“Sarah? Are you-”
His eyes go wide as Sarah lunges for him, and in the darkness he cannot step away from the left-handed hook that catches him in the jaw. He shakes away the sudden explosion of stars, part of him aware that he was lucky it was her off-hand, and looks down in surprise at the diminutive woman.
“Dude! Ow! What-”
“Don’t you DARE!”
She cuts him off with a finger in his chest and a roar in her drunken voice, and Vinnie looks further confused as he stares down at her. Her eyes were green today, the contacts shining slightly the way they did after they had been in her eyes for too long. She jabs her finger into his chest, pushing him backward with surprising force.
“Don’t you DARE leave Roxy alone like that. EVERY AGAIN! I swear to FUCKING GOD-”
Vinnie’s face softens. Not everyone knew the story yet, but Roxy had been-
“NO ONE KNOWS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE!”
A tear pushes out from the side of Sarah’s eyes and falls across her cheek, leaving what little makeup remained a mess. She steps backward and wobbles, her knee giving way, and falls backward onto her rump. She shakes her head after she takes a swig of the wine.
“I don’t remember much...its all a blur...but I remember what it FELT LIKE.”
She kicks out suddenly and catches him in the shin.
“To be ALONE. To not KNOW. To wonder if your spouse even KNOWS YOUR GONE!”
She scrambles to her feet again, her body’s form unsteady, until she stands relatively straight up with only a small sway. She stares up into his eyes with an angry fire.
“Promise me, Vinnie. PROMISE ME! You will NEVER let her be at the club alone like that! EVER AGAIN!”
Vinnie can only give her a small nod. Roxy’s abduction had mean-
“And ANOTHER thing!”
She jabs her finger into him even harder.
“Will you PLEASE stop booking me against TRASH?!”
He cocks his head at her and tries not to pass out from the fumes of what has probably been a gallon of wine down her gullet.
“I am the FACE of your company! Of YOUR brand! Of YOUR Anarchy!”
More and more jabs, Vinnie can feel a bruise forming under his shirt.
“I am YOUR Anarchy Champion! I am YOUR Queen of the Ring! I showed the WORLD who I am in YOUR company, at YOUR request, for YOUR fans!”
Each cry of “YOUR” was joined by the pain of a jab.
“And now I have to fight Vita again?! You fucker! This isn’t 2018 Vita! This isn’t Tag Champion Vita! Hell, this isn’t even ‘Makes Duke jealous by being the one to slurp up Corey’s hog’ Vita! This is ‘hasn’t done SHIT IN FUCKING MONTHS’ Vita, the exact SAME Vita I have already defeated! This is the Vita who thinks that a coy smile and hopes and prayers MEAN something! This is the Vita who doesn’t bother showing up to work until the last minute so that she can lay on her back 30 seconds later and then hit the showers as soon as possible! This is the Vita who we forgot is even on the fucking Anarchy roster! And I am DONE with fighting TRASH all the time!”
She steps back, with even that movement on a wobbled step, and stands up straight, her chin lifted ever-so-slightly.
“I’m the Anarchy Champion, Vinniefred. I’m the person who turned Noah into one half of the Boston Pissbabies. I’m the person who got rid of the fucking OWL for good. I’m the person who Main fears to fight because he knows his search for the World Championship record would be turned to flames. I’m the one who the Hooded Man is desperately seeking validation and relevance for. And after Thursday? I’m the one who-”
Sarah suddenly bends forward, her face turning sickly. Vinnie sighs as the gallon of wine the Firestarter consumed tonight finds its way to his shoes.
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