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X-treme Wrestling Federation » Warfare Boards » Warfare RP Board
Betsy's Creampies
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HeavensToBetsy Offline
Registered but either hasn't added self to a roster yet or doesn't RP



XWF FanBase:
Some of everyone

(cheered; very rarely plays dirty but isn't lame either; many likable qualities)


#1
07-13-2021, 02:14 PM

As the noose was tightened around her neck, Betsy Granger looked around at the scene before her. A town full of frontier folk, dressed in mid-18th century clothing surrounded her, staring up at her with clear accusation in their eyes… Except for that small group of folks huddled together to the left, behind the rest of the gathered crowd. They knew the plan, which they tried to keep their faces clear of as they waited for her signal. Beside her, the hangman was cheerfully whistling as he made sure the measurements were just right for the drop that waited just under her feet. Another chap, a flask touching his dry lips, stood off to the side of the high platform, one hand resting casually on the lever that would cause the wooden plank to disappear. Her heart begins to hammer in her chest as she went through the plan one last time, and all the ways it could go wrong. It was foolhardy and high-risk, even for her, but she trusted Reverend William Miller, Emma Davis, Billy Brown, and Ernest Johnson with her life.

The folds of her lightweight cotton skirt flapped in the hot breeze that blew through the small frontier town in which our scene takes place. It lifts her blonde hair, sending the aroma of jasmine and honeysuckle through the dull air. It was a hot, summer day in Serenity, an appropriate bit of weather for the occasion that the austere townsfolk had gathered around to witness.

But how has our Impossible Traveler managed to get herself in this situation?! What on earth did she do to cause an entire town to call for her to be hanged? Perhaps it would be wise to back up to Betsy’s arrival to figure out just what in tarnation could have happened...

***

Four Days Earlier

Excellence lets out a series of loud beeps that cause Betsy to look up from the navigational screen she’d been studying. It was imperative that she typed in the coordinates to the letter in the computer, or landing would be tricky, if not impossible. Since discovering her rather unique heritage, Betsy has been on a mad journey to find out more. A thorough search of the pod she’d crash-landed in 25 years ago had yielded a Rolodex of her people’s history and it seemed the planet she was headed towards had more answers for her. Anxiety and excitement go to war inside of her, causing her fingers to tingle with sparks that jolted her like little shocks of electricity. The unknown source of power she carried with her was causing her to glow more than usual, but this was the first time she’d ever created actual sparks. Forgetting her navigation for a moment, she studies her hands in fascination, wondering what else was lurking underneath, waiting to be exposed.

Excellence abruptly jerks, having been locked onto by a gravity beam. Forgetting her hands, Betsy looks around wide-eyed as all the security alarms begin to blare now. Grasping the screen and swiveling it around, she can see that they are handed for a rather barren-looking planet. Running down the ramp and swinging open the doors, she’s shocked to find that a lasso had been thrown and was now pulling her down to the planet’s surface. Slamming the doors back shut, she rushes back up the ramp and begins desperately tapping at the buttons on the control panel. Excellence lets out a human-sounding wail before landing hard, sending Betsy flying across the engine room. She hits the back wall with a thud and rolls down the wall to the ground. Sitting up slowly, she rubs the back of her head where it’s throbbing from the collision.

Before she made it back to her feet, a loud knock echoed through the room from the doors. Grabbing onto the metal rail for support, Betsy hoists herself to her feet and smooths her shirt. Her vision doubles for a moment as her knees wobble weakly beneath her; this doesn’t stop a second, more persistent knock from driving its way into her skull. Her eyes cross briefly for a moment before she shakes out the cobwebs and inhales deeply. The locals weren’t patient enough to give her a few seconds to collect herself; no, why should they? She could only imagine the confused faces that awaited her outside the doors; though whoever was knocking so much was about to get told off. Keeping a hand firmly on the ramp, Betsy makes her way to the doors and swings them open once more. The sun that shone in was unforgivingly bright, blocking out the faces of the two men that stood outside. Putting a hand over her eyes to shade them, Betsy peers at the gentleman who had been knocking at her door.

Both of them were tall and… human? Betsy squints, making sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her. They were not; both were tall, strapping men with completely humanoid features. The one on the left had light brown hair hidden under a black Stetson, clear blue eyes peering at her from underneath. His black button-down clung to his chest from sweat, a fact that the grey vest over his chest didn’t hide. His jeans were also black, adorned with soft tan, rawhide chaps, and worn, brown leather boots. The spurs at his heels were old and rusted, but still had a cheerful jangle when he moved. The cowboy on the right was wearing a tan brown Stetson over blonde hair and a blue button-down shirt with a tan vest. His jeans were blue, covered some by the black, leather chaps and boots. He also stared intensely at Betsy, his dark brown eyes full of suspicion; they kept darting between Betsy, Excellence, and back again.

Betsy shakes her head, as confused as ever. She was meant to be on the planet of Anzonias, where it was rumored that some of her kind had taken refuge when her homeworld was destroyed. The idea that some of them had managed to escape was too tempting an opportunity not to chase. As she looks beyond the two cowboys to the field, her heart sinks. This wasn’t the lush green forestry that made up Anzonias, this was Earth sometime in the 1800s. Her eyes lock on the black and white spotted cows, lolling around in the field, enjoying the warmth of the sun. Shading her eyes again, she squints and takes a closer look at the “cows”... Were those wings? A gasp escapes her as one of the bovine creatures takes flight and heads towards an oasis far off in the distance. Betsy steps fully out of Excellence now and closes the door tight behind her. Looking back to the two men in front of her, she lifts her chin, eyes still shaded, and gives them a hard look.

“Where am I then?” she demands of either of them, the edge in her tone matching the look on her face.

The men give her a startled look. “Just landed on our land, haven’t ya?” the blue-eyed cowboy meets her hard gaze with one of his own.

Betsy closes her eyes, begging for patience. “And where might that land be?”

“Why we’re just off the main road that leads to the good town of Serenity, little miss”

Betsy’s neck pops as it swivels quickly in his direction. That name… She’d heard it somewhere before…

“How far from town are we?” she asks, struggling to remember why the name sounded so familiar to her.

“Not far at all, madam.” now it’s brown eyes who replies. He’d been quietly studying her face the entire time she and the other had been talking. Now he stepped up to her, his face inches from hers. “Perhaps you’d like to tell us why you were going to kidnap our cattle in that strange, flying contraption of yours?”

“What?!” Betsy lifts her head to meet his accusing eyes. “I have no interest in your livestock; I’m here on a mission of greater importance.”

“A likely story.” Quick as lightning, Brown-Eyes reaches out and grabs her arms, pinning them behind her back. “Your act is tired, we’ve seen this a million times before.”

“Listen, mister, my name is Betsy Granger and I’m just a traveler looking for her people. I have no interest in whatever those-” she makes a broad sweeping gesture around the field with her arm. “Whatever they are. I’m only here for information… Well, I was heading somewhere else for information and I landed here. Wherever here is.”

Now both cowboys look at her as if she’d grown another head, before turning their gazes onto one another. Betsy looks between them as they stare intensely at each other, their expressions changing occasionally. Suddenly, it dawns on Betsy just what they were doing, and anger flares up in her.

“Hey, telepathic communication is cheating! I have a right to know what you guys are considering right now… Seeing as I’m at your mercy and such.” she crosses her arms and plants her feet in the dry dirt.

“My names Billy Brown,” blue-eyes replies, “and this here is Ernest Johnson. We own this ranch and farm that you find yourself on today. You’re on the planet Garaazaass, just outside the town of-”

“Serenity!” Betsy gasps as it suddenly hits her. “Tell me, would it inconvenience either of you to give me a ride into town today?”

Both men look surprised by her unexpected request, but Betsy keeps her expression level. If she was where she thought she was… Her heart pounds in her chest as the implications begin to sink in. That dirt trail outside of the rusted metal gates led to a place that held no friendly faces for her. Going straight into the heart of town may be a fool's-errand, but there was no point in letting curiosity burn her alive. After a long period of silence, Betsy realizes that the men are conversing telepathically again. Frustration digs at her, the blatant exclusion annoying her more and more with every passing second of silence. Feeling her expression beginning to falter, she clears her throat loudly.

“I’d hate to interrupt, but all I’m asking for is a supply run, and perhaps a look around. I don’t know why this requires so much debate.”

They finally look at her, both of their expressions reading suspicion and curiosity. “I suppose we could give you a lift, little lady… If you tell us why you ended up in this hell hole?” Billy replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I wish I knew the answer to that myself.” she starts, hoping her voice would remain even. “And it’s exactly as I told you before. I was traveling in my ship, looking for another planet, when a giant lasso suddenly pulled my ship down here.” She now looks at the two men, who exchanged a horrified glance when she mentioned the lasso. “Why do both of you look like you’re about to shit your Wranglers out of fear?”

“That lasso you described, it belongs to the vilest son of a bitch in Serenity.” Ernest pipes in now, his voice giving away his anxiety. “Calls himself Jimmy Smith; nobody knows anything about him. He just strolled in one day, shot down the quickest draw in town, and claimed his place as ‘leader’ of us all.” Ernest swallows visibly. “If he used his gravity lasso to wrangle you in, it means he thinks you have something valuable to him. Maybe even that ship itself, who knows? But you have his attention and may well be on his way here now…”

“Is there a way to head him off and get into town before he gets here?” Betsy inquires, now doing a sweeping observation of the field. It was an impressive amount of property, filled with all varieties of strange livestock. Spotting another trail leading into a set of shallow woods, Betsy points towards. “What does that trail over there lead to? Could we use it as a back way into town?”

“We could, it’ll bring us outright by Reverend Willy’s church.” Ernest muses. “It’ll take a bit longer, but we can get you where you need to go.”

“I reckon we ought to get you changed up before we get headin’ off.” Billy pipes in suddenly “Them clothes you’re wearin’, you’ll scandalize the townsfolk with your nudity.”

Betsy looks down at the striped tank top and small jean shorts she’s wearing. Agreeing with their point, she allows Billy to escort her to their house and raid his bride's closet for something to wear. Picking a lovely sky-blue dress, Betsy quickly shimmies into it and looks around for a mirror. Satisfied with her appearance, she ties her hair up in a sweeping, loose bun close to her neck before going back to the wagon the men had set up for their trip. Both of them nod their approval at her choice of outfit before Ernest offers his hand to help her up into the covered coach. In silence, the three of them head to town, Billy up in the “drivers” chair with the horses and Ernest sitting quietly across from her, lost deep in his thoughts. Settling back, Betsy releases a quiet sigh as her heart tightens in her chest. Looking out of the window, she wonders just what being back in Serenity could mean for her future…

****

“Come one, come all, come get a mouthful of Betsy’s freshly made Creampies!”

Betsy is set up in front of the battlegrounds for her next fight, versus Centurion and Vita Valenteen. The camera catches the large train cars of the Big Thunder Mountain Railroad in Disneyland rumbling away merrily behind her. There are excited shrieks from younger tourists as the train enters the caverns below. Meanwhile, Betsy herself stands behind the white counter of the portable cart she had commandeered for her mission. In a refrigerated display case beside her, several unique baked goods rest on display. Under the green awning that covered her from the unbearably hot sun, the sign that advertised “Betsy’s Creampies” was written in dripping, white frosting.

“Before we get into the business of competition, I’d first like to shout out to the big-wigs at Disney who allowed me to do this. Even though the Mouse probably won't approve of what I do here today, I appreciate him opening up his already large overall pockets to let me have a little fun at the expense of my opponents, both of whom I have a great deal of respect for.”

A small crowd of people has started to gather, curious as to the items in Betsy’s bakery case. A young girl gripping her father’s hand points to a row of cupcakes molded to look like Centurion’s face.

“Who is that, Miss lady? Why is he on your cuppy cake?”

Offering the youngling a grin, Betsy comes around the counter and pulls one of the cakes out for the child.

“I call those Cuckcakes, little baby. The man you see represented is Centurion, one of the folks I’m forced to push off the train behind me.”

She jabs her thumb over her shoulder towards the train ride behind her, handing the young girl the cuckcake.

“Truth is, I have nothing but respect for the man behind the legend. He’s billed as such for a reason, and he continues to show off why he’s a force to be reckoned with. It’s just that...Well, the last time we squared off was one on one. In a setting that he was meant to dominate me in, as the stipulation had been his choice. Traditional Hart rules, at the mercy of the clock counting down. He believed that I wasn’t ready at that point, that I couldn’t step up to his level and win. I don’t think I need to go back and reminisce on what happened that night; I have a feeling it still burns at Centy on sleepless nights. The legend, toppled by the rookie in the last seconds of the match. It was a hell of a fight, much like I anticipate this one being, except that conditions are a lot more ludicrous than before.

Do booking and management expect me to remove Cent and Vita from a moving train car without serious injury or worse? I mean, each show this year has featured matches of a wild variety, and all of them seem intent on killing the competitors. The three of us are meant to step on that train behind me and find a way to remove the other two from it.”


As she puzzles over this, another child steps over, pointing to the display of hand-crafted, candy lollipops on display by the register. The boy snatches one up and holds it in the air. It’s shaped like a woman’s… Well, you know. Wink wink, nod-nod.

“Ah yes, my special molded Pussy-Pops. Rumor has it that Vita Valenteen herself volunteered to be the model for this particular sweet treat. Makes sense, don’t you think: easy on the eyes, melts in your mouth, and the flavor is just-” Betsy gives an over-dramatic chef's kiss. “Perfection. Sickly sweet with a little edge. I’ve never been in the ring with Vita before, but I’ve seen what she’s capable of. Between her, Centy, and the speeding train from which all three of us will be trying to eject the other two, my hands will be full! The fact is, I WANTED Vita for this match, I just wasn’t expecting a third to be added to the party. But that’s fine, the more the merrier, am I right? I’m not sweating the small stuff, I’ll take these opportunities as they are handed to me. Though, I propose a little girl's pact,” Betsy leans forward and gives a conspiratorial wink at the camera. “I say we work together in getting rid of the dick so this match can be properly handled by the chicks. Sisters before misters, a cult of the traveling pants, girl power, and all of that noise. It doesn’t change the fact that once Cent is gone, it comes down to us, but hey! That’s exactly how I wanted it in the first place.”

Parents look more than a little disgusted as the Pussy-Pop is yanked from the young boy's hands. Catching a glimpse at the variety of flesh-colored choices, the mother glares in Betsy’s direction, yanking her son by his shirt towards the line to the train. Betsy waves merrily as a flock of teenagers approach.

“Are these made with all-natural products? I won’t put it near my mouth unless it’s organic.” A skinny blonde girl points to one of the Quick Shooter Eclairs.

Betsy grins wickedly. “You have my promise that all of these products are organic, made with the finest ingredients known to man. I bake them fresh every day, I can’t seem to keep products on the shelf! Would you like to try one?”

Grinning, the blonde nods eagerly. Taking out one of the eclairs, Betsy hands the napkin over to the girl and watches. The teen takes a hearty bite, resulting in a spray of thick, white cream exploding over her mouth. It begins to drip down her chin as she giggles and nods, eyes wide.

“Another Centurion-inspired piece; one would think it bodes well for him that Ruby likes things being faster than the speed of light.” the teens chuckle at the joke. A tall boy in a football jersey steps forward and points towards the Cuntolies. “Ah, the Cuntolies, a tree that my boy Noah Jackson inspired me into dreaming up. An enjoyable snack for those looking for a quick bite.”

The teenagers buy out the display of Pussy-Pops, laughing uproariously at the anatomically correct shapes. The camera follows them as they leave, all of them sucking on various flavors before turning back to a chuckling Betsy.

“Amazing; people really will buy into anything as long as you give them a good pitch. Flash them the right smile and bam, you’ll have them eating out of the palm of your hand. It’s not too different when cutting these promos if you think about it. I’m out here, trying to convince my opponents and the fans on why I’m going to win this match. It’s not that hard, really: I’m going to win because I need it. Tossing Ariel Dixon off the Statue of Liberty was… well, liberating, but it was only the beginning. I swore that I would start from the bottom and work my way up; facing Ariel had me thinking that would be the case. But now I find myself in one hell of a triple threat with a stipulation that could leave all three of us maimed. Maybe I should have let that gorilla kill me…”

Betsy’s smile widens as she shakes her head and laughs.

“That was a bit on the dramatic side, let me slow my roll a second. I’m not going to promenade in front of the camera and talk shit on Cent just because I beat him… Eh, who am I kidding, of course, I am! I’ve done the job once, what makes you think I can’t do it again? My recent run of bad luck or whatever you want to call it? A temporary trip-up, my friend, one that you’ll soon find to be all but rectified. Don’t start licking your chops yet, I haven’t lost my steam; I merely lost my way for a while. The fact is, I know you want to fix what happened in our first match and get that win back. Anybody would, I can hardly blame you for using that as a motivator coming into this. But it’s up to me to disallow that from happening, and if I have to send you flying off a speeding train to make that point, I will.

As for you, Vita dear… Well, this wasn’t the wrestling match I was hoping for, but as I said, I’ll take what I can get. I know this promises to be a strange match for all three of us, I just hope you come in prepared for what’s going to happen. My offer is legit- we could double team the old man over there and get him out of the way before one of us breaks his hip. Although it seems an unavoidable burden, seeing as we’ll have to toss him from a moving car. Let us just hope he doesn’t land the wrong way on the rails… Maybe we could wait until we see a softer landing. It is then that we can truly focus on one another, the way this should have been. Woman to woman, both of us with something to prove around here. Unlike Cent, I don’t exactly have a target on my back with you, but I know you want to capture this victory just as much as I do. If nothing else, I’d like to avoid being thrown off a moving train car… Seriously, how is this match even going to work? Don’t worry, I’ll take notes and share them with you both while I’m here; surprise, the fact is, I don’t want this match with either of you. Not out of fear or a lack of respect, it’s just that neither one of you are my enemy; in fact, all three of us are eying up the real threats from different directions.

Despite all my banter, Centy, I don’t want this fight, not against you at least. I’m not scared of you, I’m not even worried about you finding some redemption after losing to me. The fact is, you, Vita, and I are all on the same side and it’s a bit shitty that we have to face off like this. Fact is, I’d rather be fighting in this match besides the two of you, not against. But I’ll do what I must because I’m moving my way up and it would look pretty bad for a War Games Captain to come up short leading into the event itself. Be assured I take no pleasure in what I have to do to move forward.”


Before she can continue, Betsy looks past the cameras and a look of bemusement crosses her features.

“It seems word has broken out about my little shop here; security is on their way to taste my Creampies.”

Audible shouting to cease and desist starts coming through loud and clear. Bemusement turns to merry amusement as Betsy lets out a gleeful laugh, ripping her “kiss the baker” apron off.

“I guess I managed to piss off one too many mothers!”

Before the Impossible Traveler can let out another word, she dashes off at full speed. The camera swivels to follow her movements in time to catch a group of guards chasing after her. One of them stops in front of the camera, before making an angry face and sticking his hand into it, effectively ending the feed.

FORMER [Image: 8pr1Az7.png]
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