[Ann Thraxx]

A camcorder's being held by someone at a resturaunt at the outdoor tables. Sitting in front of the camera is Ann Thraxx, with an unusual smile on her face and a salad in front of her. She picks up a toothpick and looks down at her plate.

Thraxx: Ooh. An olive.

The smile slowly begins to fade from her face and is replaced by a look of disgust as she raises the toothpick up into the air and then slams it down with a lot of force onto her plate and then repeates that process several times until she's just punching the salad. People around her look at her in shock, and some even get up and just walk away from the situation. Ann pants as she stares down at her plate and mutters...

Thraxx: ...I fucking HATE Olives.

Now that the salad is no longer edible, she looks at the camera. The person holding the camera seems to be holding back laughter.

Thraxx: What? Are you amused by this?

???: What? Me?... Nah, continue.

Thraxx: Thankyou. Now, Olive Penderwhore... My opponent for the next episode of... Fuck it, what's the Wednesday show?

???: Warfare.

Thraxx: Right. Warfare. And because they call it Warfare, I think I'm going to spark shit up.

???: You should be careful. You've been out of action and Oli--.

Thraxx: YOU should be careful and SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH... Quit interrupting me!... Jesus Hank Christ! Where the hell was I? Ah, yeah. Olivia... Such a beautiful name. Then you change it to Olive and it just sounds downright stupid. Who names themselves after a fucking fruit, anyway? You know that's what it is, right?... Just a damn fruit that's bitter as fuck and just gets tossed aside and forgotten about. Now that I word it like that, it makes sense. Stick with the name. Suits you. But y'know, there's what I like to call a "fine line" between being a cruel, evil, manipulative and sadistic bitch, like me, and being a narcissitic tramp with no personality and a constant fucking temper issue. You know what your problem is, Olive? Do you really? Your problem is this, and I'll be blunt; You just suck at your chosen career and at having your own place in society. I mean, hell... I have mine, and I treat people worse than you do. But people oddly like something about me. They'll swear black and blue that they hate my guts, but they don't as much as they'd like to. But nobody likes the poor little Olive.

Ann shifts in her seat and leans a little closer into the camera.

Thraxx: Now, I can't say I hate everything about you. I did a little digging and you like sharp things, right? Inflicting pain, making people bleed... Yada yada yada-da-doo... That's great, I love those things just as much as you do. Perhaps even more. What you don't understand about me is that I really am afraid of nothing. People will lie to you and say "Oh, that's bullshit. She feared the Black Circle when they were after her"... People also make a lot of shit up. Something you may not know about me, Olivia... Since we've not really run into one another... When I bleed, I change. I just get this rush of addrenaline like nothing can stop me from doing anything. It's great, and it usually doesn't end well for my opponents, whether I win or lose. Pain is something I feed off. A good shot to the head with a chair will take anyone down, but I suggest you leave your sharp thingies out of our little X-Treme Rules match. You may cut me. I may bleed. You may even keep me down and get a three count... But then the real Thraxx takes over and you can't do anything to stop me. Just imagine it; You pleading with me to stop. Officials trying to pry me away as I pry the muscles and tendons from your neck with the edge of a blade or a piece of glass. You may think that's the end, but before I crush your throat with single kick, I'll take the sharp thing and pin your arms down with my knees. You'll scream, I'll laugh and your tongue will be cut away from your mouth. Or perhaps I'll give you a pretty cheek piercing, huh? The point is that sharp things won't help you, but why am I even bothering to give you any advice. You and I both know you couldn't beat me with or without it. I suggest you forfeit the match. Tell whoever's in charge that you have a funeral to go to or something like that. Don't show up for Warfare, because if you do, the last thing XWF will ever see of Olive Pendershore is her shedded blood as pieces of her are taken out in the trash bags... Much love.

Ann laughs.

Thraxx: ......What are you doing? Shut off the camera, you fucking nitwit!

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How come all the weird kinky stuff in the world reminds you people of me!?