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All of our collective EW!

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~~Alamodome, San Antonio, Texas - February 25th~~

Angelica Vaughn and Sarah Lacklan, Team HSU, the Lacklan Sisters, one half of the company-hopping #CoolKids stable, and current XWF Taggie Team Champions, sit on a bench within a private locker room deep within the bowels of the Alamodome. Facing opposite directions, their backs are pressed against one another, creating the somewhat comical sight of a height difference so vast that the older (but shorter!) Sarah’s head rested between the shoulderblades of the younger (but taller!) Angelica. While the disparity in their heights made clear their familial relations only being of the “half” variety, they still displayed much in the way of similarities: Both wore full bodysuits for wrestling gear, though Sarah’s black and red was scandalously tight compared to Angie’s far more modest dark pink; both wore their hair in a single braid, with Sarah’s platinum being a tightly-woven work of art requiring three servants employees and Angie’s golden being a thicker plait that didn’t require anyone’s help, thankies very much; aspects about their facial structure was similar, as well, though some of the sharpness of Sarah’s chin and cheekbones were softened in Angie, whose face was far more pleasant and never once, not even once, was compared to that of a devil or demon.

“Hmmmmm hmmmm hmmmmm!”

Sarah was humming to herself while she fiddled with a pair of shoes on her lap. But not just ANY pair of shoes: A sleek pair of black Louboutins that were lined with red the perfect match to her usual lipstick. And not just ANY pair of Louboutins specifically matched to her usual color scheme, but the pair she had earned by not only being the “legend” cast to fulfill the role of Flynn’s Queen, but also the absolute highlight of the entire main event. So engrossed in her humming and admiring of the newest addition to her shoe family that she didn’t notice the agitated grumbling from her sister.

“...freakin….fuddleduddy…fickletoes…San Antonians…”

“Let’s make sure these fit as perfectly as I assume!”

Sarah turns her body so that her feet dangle to the floor and she begins working on unlacing her heeled wrestling boots. In her peripheral view, Angie notices the thick heel, a full inch in height, and rolls her eyes. Even with the small advantage, her sister was still painfully short compared to most wrestlers, and was nowhere near her own height of about one and a half Thads.

“...I bet they’re too big…”

“Oh pish posh. Literally everyone knows I’m a size six.”

“...grumble grumble…your face is…”

Sarah continues to not notice Angie’s overall demeanor and mood as she finishes unlacing her boots and kicking them to the floor. With a smooth and well-practiced motion, Sarah slips the new shoes onto her perfectly dainty foot and, to no one’s surprise, they fit perfectly. Sarah bounds to her feet and struts in front of one of the full length mirrors in the room and turns her calf JUST RIGHT so that the shoes shine.

“Not a bad night’s work, if I say so myself?”

Angie lets out a small sigh, heavy with her agitation.

“For one of us, at least.”

Sarah’s face falls into concern as she finally catches Angie’s mood.

“Oh Angelica, I’m sorry.”

Sarah rushes back over to Angie and throws her arms around her to give her a hug.

“I’m sorry that you got knocked out of March Madness, I was really hoping one of us could take it. But hey, now we get to axly defend our Taggie Team Championships a bit, right?”

Angie returns the hug, her face softening a bit, but she still scowls.

“It’s less about losing to Ned…he’s not a bad guy, obvs…and more about the crowd. MY crowd, Sar-Sar! I live, like, fifteen minutes away and they chant HIS name? Not #Cool! It’s, like, du jamais vu dans ma vie! Tu sais? I thought I meant more to them. Clearly nobvs!”

Sarah pats her sister’s shoulder and nods.

“That was odd, Sister. But you know what I bet could perk you up? A drink!”

Angie’s face suddenly brightened.

“Abslletini.”

“Stay here and shower, I’ll work on it.”

As Angelica grumpily prepared to start cleaning up, Sarah took the chance to change out of her own gear. She paused as she pulled down her bodysuit, her bright alabaster skin shining in stark contrast to her black sports bra, and her eyes locked onto the mirror’s reflection of her stomach. Just below her lower abs, which were finally getting their shape back after so long out of the rigors of true sports training, were two round scars lined close together. She licked suddenly dry lips as her heart began to beat loudly in her ears.


“Do you wish to talk about-”

“NO!”

That refusal to talk to Dr. Reznik about her hysterectomy was neither the first nor last. She really, really, REALLY didn’t want to talk about it beyond what she already had with her family, and even THAT was too much for her heart.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“Mrs. Lacklan? Are you available?”

Sarah jumped at the knock and voice coming from outside their locker room.

“Un instant s'il vous plaît!”

In a flash, Sarah stripped the rest of her bodysuit off, attained her naval chain from her bag and attached it in place (making sure to give it a spin because of how much Angie loathed when she did that), and pulled on a simple…for her…red and white dress with sufficiently puffy sleeves. Regretting that her thick contact lenses were still in her eyes, she blinked heavily as she chassé’d herself to the door of the locker room. With a quick look backward to make sure Angie wasn’t in a compromising situation or anything…though everyone knew canonically that Angie showered while still clothed…she opened the door.

“Tada!”

Sarah wasn’t sure what to expect, but this sight was definitely not on the list: A horde of XWF staffers, each more nameless and faceless than the last, standing outside her door with armfuls of flowers and balloons. The one closest to the front held a large plaque, shining with newness.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Lacklan!”

Sarah’s face became puzzled as she stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind her.

“For…?”

“The fastest victory in XWF history!”

The man presented the plaque while women threw red and black streamers all around the hallway. With a confused smile, Sarah takes the offered plaque…it was quite heavy and looked to be lined with actual golden inlay…and read the lettering:


XWF’s FASTEST VICTORY

SARAH LACKLAN d. ATARA RAVEN BY TAPOUT

TOTAL TIME: 5 SECONDS



Sarah’s confused smile turns to genuine glee as she takes it all in.

“Well, that IS true. I DO now have the distinction for the FASTEST victory in the seemingly eternal HISTORY of the XWF. I suppose all I can really do now is take a bow.”

Holding the plaque close to her chest with one hand, Sarah spreads her skirts on one side with the other dips down into a well-practiced curtsy. The group of random XWF workers are silent…until they burst into great applause. More streamers are thrown and flowers are presented. But remembering her most pressing chore, she smiles and waves at the crowd and moves through them, careful to avoid any actual contact, of course, until she notices another nameless/faceless/rando.

“You, ragamuffin! Come hither.”

A mousy dirty blonde brunette stops walking and turns a questioning gaze towards Sarah.

“Alrite? Why you callin’ me a muffin, mate?”

“My sister and I require adult beverages. Fetch a carafe of mulled wine and a flagon of…well…honestly, it doesn’t even matter at this point…my lush of a sister would likely drink a gallon of Mad Dog moonshine and be happy. Make it quick and there will be a shiny quarter in it for you.”

Said dirty blonde/brunette blinks a few times.

“Wha’re you goin’ on about, mate? I work here, innit? Vinnie asked me to do a dark pre-show match for a few quid. We’ve met before, ‘aven’t we? Couple of times, yeah?”

Anyone who paid any attention to Madness and/or Anarchy, all five people in total that is, would probably immediately recognize Molly Barnes, the Salford Supernova. The recently debuted Anarchy ‘star’ was halfway through winding off the tape from her forearms and looked like a disheveled zombie, her untended hair peaking everywhere.

Now it’s Sarah’s turn to blink several times before she shakes her head.

“No no, I would know if Vinnie instituted a work program for the Poor. I would have fought such an idiotic institution, obvs. Now, stop lollygagging or else those two bits will become two dimes!”

Sarah turns away as Molly opens her mouth to object as the sight of bright blonde hair catches her eyes.

“JEN!”

Sarah completes her spin, her braid nearly smacking Molly in the chin, and rushes towards a disheveled Jenny Myst. The newly-minted Television Champion’s eyes are glazed over and her gait shows the obvious wear of her lengthy and brutal match against Chris Page.

“Wha? OOF!”

She is caught in an embrace as Sarah grabs her in a hug tight enough to push the air from her lungs. It wasn’t an Angelica level hug, which could theoretically be classified as aggravated assault, but it was significant nevertheless.

“Congratulations! I do so ever love seeing that dumb-dumb lose matches to far, far superior wrestlers.”

Sarah pushes her to arm’s length and gives her a discerning look up and down her body with her odd eyes.

“Certainly the worse for wear, though. But, hey, not everyone can win a match in five seconds, yeah?”

Sarah lightly touches the title belt around Jenny’s waist.

“...I never have held a Television Championship. I wonder…”

Sarah's eyes are full of desire as she looks back up, but Jenny’s glazed eyes barely seem to notice, and Sarah’s neverending desire to have ALL the toys melts away as she smiles at her friend.

“Get some sleep, love!”

Jenny smiles faintly as she pulls away from Sarah and trudges towards her own locker room.

“Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em!”

Sarah smiles and shakes her head as Jenny stumbles away.

“Uh…where IS that urchin with our drinks?”

“NED! NED! NED!”

Sarah cocks her eyebrow as she hears a muffled chant.

“NED! NED! NED!”

She follows the sound until she finds herself outside a door marked SAGA. She gently places her ear to the door.

“NED! NED! NED!”

Her eyes squint in thought, wondering why there would be chanting coming from this room.

“NED! NED! NED!”

She hums to herself as thoughts begin to form.

“NED! NED! NED!”

“...I wonder…”

“OOOHHHHHHHHHH....Buraddo Purinsesu!”

Sarah gags and runs from the door as fast as possible.

🎶"Love on the brain!"🎶

Sarah comes to a stop and smiles as she pulls out her SWEET Windows phone.

“Bonsoir, Beloved!”

“Why has my mom called me TEN TIMES to tell me you beat her up tonight?!”

Sarah sighs and rolls her eyes.

"That is NOT what happened! First of all-"


~~MEANWHILE!~~


Angelica stepped out of the shower, still in her bathing suit. She got mocked for it quite often, especially in the Hitgirls showers, but she felt more comfortable this way.

As she wrapped a towel around her head and hair, she noticed her arms were still shaking with adrenaline. She felt betrayed on a fundamental level. It wasn’t so much the fact she lost to Ned, it was the manner in which her own hometown had cheered him on. Going into the match, she had been certain of two things: 1) she was going to have a heck of a fight on her hands but 2) at least the home crowd would be behind her and give her the boost she needed. She had only been right about the first one. After all she had done for the city, the various communities, the many fundraisers,... She was hardly expecting them to get on their knees for her… that was more her sister’s kink… but a bit of support during an extremely important match wasn’t too much to ask for, she thought. And it left a bitter taste in her mouth. As bitter as the gall in your throat during a hangover after a night of heavy drinking. Which, if Sarah was to be believed, was exactly what they were heading for.

But she wasn’t going to just let this pass her by. As she put her street clothes on and blew-dry her thick, plentiful golden hair, she made plans… Plans that nobody was going to believe, let alone be able to pull them off. But lines had been crossed. The disrespect had been too palpable.

She sighed as she put the blow dryer down. Another night of disappointment… Hopefully she was going to erase that on the upcoming Weekend Warfare. They had just received word that they were going to defend the Taggie Team Titles, and “The Honorable Mentions” didn’t sound like a team name she was going to enjoy losing to. Not that she ever *enjoyed* losing, obvs. But that would feel like a right kick to the eggs. Even more embarrassing than that one time Noah dozed off in the middle of the ring during a match. Sadly, the tapes of that event were lost to history…

Angelica stepped out of the locker room. Sar was nowhere in sight, but she was, as was pretty much inevitable, in earshot. But before she could set out to search for her, she heard someone else call out to her.

“Oi! Jane and the beanstalk!”

She turned around to see Molly march towards her. To Angelica’s surprise, she pushed a bottle of vodka in her hands.

“Here, nicked this from catering. Now you owe me fifty quid!”

Angelica frowned, and reached for her wallet. She figured Sarah had promised her if she got them some booze.

“... will American dollars be okies?”

“Yeah, I’ll take your Minnie Mouse money, mate.”

Angelica handed her a crisp bill, and Molly held it up against the TL lamps to check for a watermark. Satisfied, she pocketed it and pointed a finger at Angelica.

“And tell your blight of a sister I ain’t her bloody dogsbody! …posh twats…”

Molly stomped off again, leaving Angelica to scratch her head. She eventually continued her search for Sarah, following the sound of a few particularly loud “N-E-WAYS”es, and found her a few corridors down, still engaged in conversation on her antique phone.

”AND ANOTHER THING! I-”

“That’s enough of that!”

Angelica snatched the phone out of her hands and disconnected the call.

”HEY! I wasn’t finished!”

“Yes you were! This is Team HSU time! STILL HATE THAT NAME! We’ve our first real title defense coming up, and if it were up to me, we’d get out to the ring right NOW to face Vague James Bond and Range Rover! But we can’t, so let’s make sure we prep properly! And I do hope they don’t pull a Ned and start spreading blatant, bold-faced LIES about us! Or rather, me. Because let’s face it, nothing they can make up about you is more unbelievable than the AXSHALL fax!”

Sarah shrugs.

"Yeah, well. Though I doubt Vaggy even knows enough to make up lies! We both know what it's like being the new guy or whatever, but from what I've seen, all Vaggy does is read a bio or two and call it a day! And what did that cost him? A big ol' L in his debut...unlike me, obvs...and while he was able to be carried to a victory last week, it was against freakin Barn Door. Which, of COURSE, earns him some random title shot, right? Pfft. PFFT, I say! He could play the SAGA card ALL DAY LONG and make up random lies about us and it will still amount to the first of MANY successful Taggie Team Championship defenses by the BESTEST sibling-based teams EVER. In fact! We-"

“NED! NED! NED!”

Sarah’s eyes go wide as the sound comes around the bend. To her dismay, a group of people marched and chanted in a rehearsed manner around the corner and stomped their way through the hallway. Her mind started to churn again, putting things together, and she was-

“THAT’S IT!”

Angie’s shriek jolts her from her thoughts.

“RRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEE! NO MORE! I am moving the STA Ranch to Maine!”

“I…wait….wut?”

“You heard me! I’m leaving this turncoat state and taking my entire farm. ALL my animals and products and charity, EVERYTHING. And taking it somewhere else!”

Sarah shakes her head in confusion while Angie starts counting on her fingers and mouthing calculations.

“I’ll take over one of the blueberry fields, I suppose. Plenty of room East of Bangor. I’ll need helicopters. Lots of helicopters. All of the helicopters. Do we have helicopters?”

She waves the question away before the befuddled Sarah can even answer.

“Doesn’t matter, we’ll find them. We’ll find them if it’s the last thing we do! I’ll enlist the whole heckin’ army if I have to!”

Angie spares the departing group a final scowl as Sarah continues to look perplexed.