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Jenny Myst · (10-30-2019)

The pink sports car sat out front of the NEWPORT LEISURE CENTRE in Newport City, cameras all around and every-day average joes rubbernecking just to try to get a view.

Inside the car, hidden by the heavily tinted windows, sat XWF legend Jenny Myst with her publicist and friend Megan. Jenny's nails were perfect, as usual, as she gripped the steering wheel with a less than pleasant look on her face.

Megan, who had her hair down, pushed her glasses back up onto the brim of her nose as she gripped her notebook tightly. Over her shoulder was a sachel that had all of her documents, with a strap that split her boobs down the middle.

"Looks like we've drawn quite the crowd" Megan said, her nerdy persona not overly compatible with people and large crowds.

"Get used to it sister. I am the main attraction here. They came to see me. You don't even need to say anything, just sit there and smile and make sure you hit the record button, because this is gonna be good."

Jenny looked at herself in the pulldown mirror, made a kiss face, then took a deep breath and opened the door. Immediately, the clicks of the camera's began to chatter like a New York Subway.

Jenny waved at the crowd. It was good to be back in the limelight again. RLF was mild in media coverage, but they were new, and she would be a liar if she said she didn't miss the constant attention XWF stars got.

Attention whore? So?

Megan stepped sheeipshly out of the car, closing the door lightly behind her.

Jenny waved to the masses, blew a few more kisses, as she made her way to the podium in front of the arena.

The crowd hushed as they prepared for yet another epic Jenny Myst piece of promotional material. As her eyes's scanned the crowd, visions, images, nightmares, came back to her. She felt herself fill with rage........

The court room was quiet, only small murmurs could be heard as people whispered to one another about the atrocities they were listening to. Jennifer Sambuca sat, in pink blouse and dress slacks with matching black heels, next to her lawyer at the plaintiff table. The man on the stand had an evil look to him, with piercing eyes. Jennifer thought, every time she looked at them, that she was staring at the devil himself. She had never seen his eyes, one because it was always pitch black in the room in which she was kept, but he also wore sunglasses. She never understood why he wore sunglasses in a dark room, but it was quickly dawning on her that maybe it was for times like this. Eyes are an identifying factor. Without seeing his eyes, he could just be any middle aged man.....

One with a twisted kink for rape, torture and mental and emotionally abuse.

It was him, she knew it was him. The voice, which sounded similar, though most of the time she found herself trying to block it out, sounded all too familiar to her. She had a feeling, and aura, a gut wrenching hunch.............her privates throbbed just remembering it.

Oh god, was she----no---she couldn't be getting turned on by this?!

She told herself over and over and over that she hated it, hated him, hated her "father" hated life. But as she shifted ever so slightly in the uncomfortable court chair, she couldn't help but feel a sensation she swore she would hold onto until she found the man she truly loved.

-------But was she even capable of loving a man anymore?------

Sure she was, vagina disgusted her. She could never go gay.......but men had done nothing in her life but hurt her. Men had done nothing to earn her trust, her respect, even as much as a passing glance.

Her thoughts were broken by a feeling that tore through her like a million daggers being thrust into her chest at one time.

HE was staring at HER. Staring with a cold, expressionless stare. He was completely devoid of any emotion. His eyes were empty, almost dead, as if she was staring back at a corpse covered in leathery flesh. His gaze never broke from her, even as he answered all of the prosecutors questions.

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

All one word, his gaze never breaking the chains that bonded her to him.

Then something came from his mouth that made her insides churn like butter in a vat.

"No matter what happens to me, and no matter how much you all try to railroad me and take her word for it--a girl who is clearly off her medication--I would at least like to be granted the ability to see the baby."

The entire court room gaped collectively. Jennifer felt the bile rise in her throat again.

His head turned and his blank stare was directed at the prosecutor........but before he turned his head ever so slightly a small grin tore across his cracked lips.......

Oh god, she had never thought about ACTUALLY being pregnant. Sure the thought crossed her mind every time he filled her with his vile seed, any time any of them did, but she hadn't been to that point...........but........it had been a bit since she had her........oh god.

"No further questions" a choked up DA said. Jennifer looked over to the other table where the defense attorney's sat with the men they had busted in the stash house that sunny day several months prior.

One of them, who she had seen before (one of the only ones she had actually SEEN during her imprisonment) was looking at her now.

He was the same man who was in her house two years ago, the man who had her "father" and "mother" on their knees at gunpoint, demanding payment on her "fathers" owed debt. She was sure, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he was the ringleader who set up the deal that got her into this mess. He grinned at her as she jumped upon hearing her name.......

"We would like to call Ms. Sambuca to the stand."

She looked at her lawyer, and he nodded. She pushed her chair out slightly and was accompanied by the bailiff to the stand. Taking a seat in a much more comfortable chair the large black man spoke, "Ms. Sambuca, raise your right hand"

She did.

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you god?"

What was "God", surely no "God would allow what happened to her to happen.

"I do."

The DA approached and as he stepped a little to the side of the stand she saw the man, the ring leader, staring at her. He still had that grin on his face as he raised a single finger to his lips.........

Shhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Robbie, ew....just.....ew......You’re like a 1 Star yelp review that came to life. You are a fiend and a sniveling coward, and you have bad breath. You are the unholy spawn of a bandy-legged hobo and a syphilitic camel. You wear strangely mismatched clothing with oddly placed stains. You are degenerate, noxious and depraved. I feel debased just knowing that you exist. I despise everything about you, and I wish you would go away. You are jetsam who dreams of becoming flotsam. You won't make it. I beg for sweet death to come and remove me from a world which became unbearable when the bio-terrorists designed you..

"Umm Jen, isn't that a bit much?"

Ignoring her publicist, she kept going.......

It is hard to believe how incredibly stupid you are. Stupid as a stone that the other stones make fun of. So stupid that you have traveled far beyond stupid as we know it and into a new dimension of stupid. Meta-stupid. Stupid cubed. Trans-stupid stupid. Stupid collapsed to a singularity where even the stupons have collapsed into stuponium. Stupid so dense that no intelligence can escape. Singularity stupid. Blazing hot summer day on Mercury stupid. You emit more stupid in one minute than our entire galaxy emits in a year. Quasar stupid. It cannot be possible that anything in our universe can really be this stupid. This is a primordial fragment from the original big stupid bang. A pure extract of stupid with absolute stupid purity. Stupid beyond the laws of nature. I must apologize. I can't go on. This is my epiphany of stupid. After this experience, you may not hear from me for a while. I don't think that I can summon the strength left to mock your moronic opinions and malformed comments about boring trivia or your other drivel. Duh. The only thing worse than your logic is your manners. I have snipped away most of your of your promo, because, well ... it didn't really say anything. Your attempt at constructing a creative flame was pitiful. I mean, really, stringing together a bunch of insults hidden inside a classroom metaphor among a load of babbling was hardly effective... Maybe later in life, after you have learned to read, write, spell, and count, you will have more success. True, these are rudimentary skills that many of us "normal" people take for granted that everyone has an easy time of mastering. But we sometimes forget that there are "challenged" persons in this world who find these things to be difficult. If I had known that this was true in your case then I would have never have exposed myself to what you just put out. It just wouldn't have been "right." Sort of like parking in a handicap space. I wish you the best of luck in the emotional, and social struggles that seem to be placing such a demand on you.

Megan shook her head, Jenny was on her game like she had never seen. The blonde bombshell and current RLF True Champion had always been able to deliver a brutal tongue lashing but this was like nothing the young publicist had ever seen.

Jenny's eyes scanned the crowd, all of them listening to every word, hanging on every syllable. Jesus, didn't these people have a life? No wonder the UK sucked. Her mind wandered back again.

Jenny sat down at a booth at the corner of the diner. She didn't really want to sit, the fabric--which she knew they were trying to pass off as leather--looked like it was sticky. It was a dull red, and the table had a checker pattern table cloth. It looked like something out of the 1960's, and it made her shudder.

She looked out the window at the dull landscape that she understood most of this cancer-stricken state was covered in. Flat, tan, boring. Corn and dead grass for miles. Nothing else but asphalt. How could anyone live here?

Her concentration was broken by the chatter of a waitress and someone in the kitchen. "Get on that omelet, I don't wan' keep Roger waiting. He is a good cus'tomah. I got to take care of this pretty lil thing over here at Table 4...."

God these people were insufferable. She could tell already. This was going to be a long afternoon, but at least she'd get some pancakes out of the deal.

As Jenny waited, rather impatiently, for the overweight woman in the apron to shuffle her way over, she began to have her thoughts again---the thoughts that tortured her the last few years.

----She could still feel the warm hand on her leg, even though it made her body cold. Her "father" took her to a place like this once. He promised her pancakes and said he had to talk to her. Of course, being a typical teenager, she cared more about the prospect of getting delicious food for free than having any sort of deep conversation with a "parent". Adopted or not, she really had no interest in talking to this man, even though she called him "dad". But as she sat there, she saw the look in his eye. He looked sad--but his hand on her thigh made her feel like there was an ulterior motive here.

Oh god, was there?

The waitress then was a heavy woman too, wearing a what-used-to-be-white apron with obvious stains on it. She had a look on her face as if she was wondering why the two were sitting next to each other instead of across from one another. She decided to plead the fifth on that though.

"Can I help you?"

"Can I help ya?" the woman's voice cut through her, and she jumped a little. Composing herself, she looked up and into the face of overweight but clearly compassionate woman. This woman has obviously seen a lot in her day, and her eyes were soft, almost broken. Jenny cleared her throat.

"Uh, erm....yeah. I need a menu, and maybe start with a coffee? Yeah. Coffee would be nice."

The woman didn't miss a beat.

"Regular or decaf, dear?"

"Did I say decaf?"

"No you did not."

"Then I think you know the answer."

The woman shuffled away as Jenny tried to compose herself. That woman's voice, she was sure she had heard it before. But that was impossible, she had never been to this state before. Why would she have been?

No words were exchanged as the woman shuffled back over and set a menu down in front of her.

Young Jenny looked over the menu, but she knew what she wanted. Pancakes, pancakes and more pancakes. She was going to stuff herself full of pancakes, then she had an excuse to sleep on the car ride home and not talk to this man any more than she had to.

"I already know what I want" she remembered saying, her voice shakier than she anticipated.

"Oh yeah? Great, when the waitress comes back we will order. I know what I want too."

His voice was stone straight, no emotion at all. All of his emotion was in his eyes.

As they waited for the server to come over he finally broke the secret. "Jen....hunny, we need to talk."

Oh boy. He is saying this with a hand on her leg? Not too much scared her at this age, but she full on dreaded what he was about to say.......

Before he could speak up, the servers voice cut in.

"Ya'll know what you're having?"

"Do you know what you're having, miss?" Jesus, it was like this lady was in her thoughts.

"Pancakes!" Jenny almost yelled out, her inner child, and her flashback self, coming out for a second. "Oh.....heh, yeah, sorry.....pancakes would be nice."

The lady set the coffee down, pointing towards the cream and sugar that sat on the far side of the table by the window.

The woman wrote it down on her pad and smiled, walking away. As Jenny turned her head she swore she saw her "father" sitting there.

"So.....I did a very bad thing......."

So Warpig is back, eh? Where the hell have you been? You may wonder where I have been.......winning titles and shaping a women's division in a company loaded with potential......but I really truly thought it was game over for your ass. I see you are just as disgusting as ever. Your own hand regrets fucking you, Pig. I'm guessing target practice doesn't run in your family. You look like you smell like a chemical spill crawled up inside of you. You look like your parents kept the afterbirth and threw away the baby. Whenever you speak, I can feel my brain cells committing suicide....when are you gonna drop this tough guy war monger image and realize that deep down inside you are nothing but a slab of raw beef wearing a kevlar vest. You're legit a whopper with legs. Yes I have been watching Warfare, I have been watching the XWF very closely. I saw what you guys have done.......I saw how you are being consistently carried by Robbie.....like nothing has ever changed.......and I see how even though we haven't been in the ring together in two years or so...you are just as much of a waste of taxpayer dollars as you have ever been. I'm top tier, and I have always been. I have made strides in this business while you have always been an accessory. I have run an entire program here and had my pink lip gloss on some of the most influential names and groups in XWF lore.......Basically, Pig, my lunch cost more than someone would get for your life insurance check. You’re a chromosome garage sale. I am going to step into that ring next Wednesday Night and do what I do best.......make an impression. You are going to be the same old motherfuckers who talk a big game but fail to impress........the same motherfuckers who lived in my shadow before and undoubtedly will again........the motherFUCKING bitch who is just...well....flat out better than you.

Oh...and Robbie.....

Congrats on your promotion!

Condom mascot is a big step up from failed abortion.

Jenny smiled a wicked grin and she blew a kiss to the camera. Megan shook her head, looking down, but also couldn't help but smile.

Just then the crowd turned their attention to a limo that pulled up and stopped right outside the arena. They waited in anticipating, like sheep awaiting feed, for their next photo-op. Jenny's eyes lit up as a dress-pant laden leg and designer shoe stepped out from the black limo.........

Hanari had arrived.

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