And now that you're in that place, you'll quickly see the flaws of its inhabitants run wild.
You'll see repetition, thievery and imitation as they try so hard to make their opening bark heard but instead prove themselves recycled, synthetic and mild.
Steadfast will come their unhinged tempers the moment they are revealed as disposable front line fodder, so offer your forgiveness and sympathy - perhaps even feign that you've been beguiled.
"Perfect timing," exclaims Victor "Peeps" D'nerro with a clap and rubbing of his palms the moment he sees his client, the ravishing Goddess Sitre Renenet walk into his office. You'd think he were a kid on Christmas morning the way he looks ready to open a present as he of course makes no effort to hide the fact that his eyes are traveling up and down her entire body, admiring her form fitting black business casual outfit. "Sit down, sit down, we've got some exciting shit to go over babe."
She gracefully sits down across from Vic after dropping her bag in the seat next to her. Vic takes notice of the bag and looks intrigued as he asks, "Oh wow, I love that new purse of yours. Who makes it?" To which Sitre responds while looking at her perfectly manicured nails, "Who cares who makes it? I'm not even dressed up today and I've had this bag for months. And no, I didn't forget you just called me babe; and no, I'm not your babe." Now looking right up at him with a sarcastic smirk and cocking of her head as she adds, "Nice try though."
Vic pretends to be taken aback as he does every time she tosses his unwanted terms of endearment back in his face, actually jumping back in his chair and flailing his arms out to the sides like a bullet hit him. Sitre lets out a sigh and looks off to the side, giving Vic his much needed couple of seconds to return to adulthood before continuing… "So anyway, I'm sure you saw what happened Monday night, right?" She glances back at Vic after he fails to respond - good grief, he's playing dead. His arms are limp and his head is drooped with his tongue hanging out. Sitre throws her hands up and smacks them down onto her thighs in frustration, letting out a loud "Oh my god! Dammit, Vic!" A few seconds pass by - he's selling better than Dolph Ziggler right about now until he slowly brings his head up and gasps for air, clutching his throat. "I might need mouth to mouth."
Sitre has had enough; she grabs her purse and heads toward the door as Vic laughs and yells, "Wait!" He starts pushing some buttons on his laptop really loudly and says, "Look! This is important!"
Sitre turns back toward him and looks at the screen as he swivels the laptop toward her. Vic is pointing right at the screen as if she somehow would miss it and has a super concerned look on his face with his eyes open as far as they'll go. What could he be pointing at that's so important and concerning to him? "What the hell is that," Sitre asks as her face contorts and she resembles someone who just saw a dog let out a liter of diarrhea on the sidewalk in front of them. Vic's voice is overly exaggerated with hyped concern, "I know! Right?"
"That's disgusting, Vic. This is the one time I would have preferred you were going to sneak a pic of yourself in your boxers or something. Ugh; what the hell is that?"
Her reaction is justified as Vic goes on to explain, "And would you believe the camera wasn't even zoomed in on him for this shot? He really is that fat, his pores really are that large, and the sweat beads secreting out of his face really are that humongous."
No need to beat around the bush any longer - it's obvious to everyone watching that the offensive man on Vic's laptop is Giuseppe Jones.
You know, obvious to the three people who know who Giuseppe Jones is because they happened to see his name opposite of Sitre's name on the upcoming Warfare card. To the rest of us, however, we're still scratching our heads and wondering why Vic is trying to show Sitre pictures so shockingly horrific that she passes out. Wait, then again, it's no wonder why he'd want to get Sitre to pass out. Luckily it didn't work, however.
"I'm not going to pass out."
Peculiar that she has that response… or is it?
"Please, sit back down. I promise not to show you anything else that might induce sudden projectile vomiting." Vic spins his laptop back toward himself and clicks a few keys on it as Sitre sits down. This is the part where he'd immediately spin the laptop back toward her with a full screen picture of himself sprawled out on a bed with flower petals on his pillow, but he's really taking this Giuseppe Jones fellow seriously, so he doesn't do that. "So anyway chica, to answer your much earlier question yes I did see what happened on Monday night. You did a great job out there as the special enforcer and backup referee when Ghost Tank decided to take a nap; the lazy fucktard." Vic laughs because it's just not right to say Ghost Tank's name without a necessary moment of laughter in his honor. "I also saw how you made a comment after the show inviting Ghost Tank to man up and finally challenge you to a match after all the problems you've made him whine and cry about over the past several weeks, but obviously that douche nozzle backed out with epic amounts of suave and style like only Ghost Tank can." More laughter from Vic because he said Ghost Tank two more times since his last chuckle.
"Nothing new there," Sitre adds with a dismissive flick of the wrist. "He's already grown quite stale so I'm not even sure if I'll bother to attack him any further."
"Y'know that's probably for the best because somebody in the XWF with a pretty good sense of humor has given you a much more entertaining prospect to look forward to next week. That's why I showed you the picture of that obese, offensive screwball a minute ago. He's one of your next opponents along with Code Red. The bookers have teamed you up with Abigail to take on this duo at Warfare's Gold Week in a match that will see the winning team earn a future Tag Team Championship shot!" Vic has his fists balled up in excitement with a smile so big you'd think he just now discovered all the leaked images from The Fappening several months back.
"Ok?" Her response was a little less than he was expecting.
"Are you not excited?" Vic asks with some surprise in his voice at her lackluster response. "This is going to be your first official match and it's already for a shot at a future title. I'm sure there will be a nice bonus in it for us if you're able to make your way up to that title shot and bring the tag belts into the CCWF for Shane ."
"I guess when I know my worth and know my abilities, I'm not at all surprised or excited to hear things I already knew would come my way. It's the same as how, when Abigail and I are standing in the ring weeks from now after winning those titles, you're not going to see either of us jumping for joy like we just had our first self-induced orgasms or something." Vic can't help but look off into the distance and let his mind wander at the thought of Sitre bringing herself to orgasm as she continues, "And as for our opponents at Warfare, I'm not really too shocked there either. They both make perfect sense to put up in front of us for this mock test," she explains matter of factly while once again looking at her nails as she relaxes back in her seat.
Vic continues fantasizing for a few more seconds but snaps himself out of it and looks at her somewhat quizzically. "Uh, ok I get most of what you're saying but what do you mean both of your opponents make sense? Code Red I can understand because he was at the receiving end of a CCWF beating not too long ago when Abigail won that clusterfuck match. It was kind of funny how that little twerp actually tried fighting you guys off for a minute there as if he stood a chance in hell of winning. So yeah, him being lined up for another beat down makes a lot of sense but why Giuseppe Jones? Am I missing something?"
Sitre spins Vic's laptop toward her and taps a few keys much quicker than Vic was doing a while ago. She's obviously a much faster and much more proficient typist than most people she encounters. After loading up something on his laptop, she spins it back around to face him as it plays.
Goddess Sitre Renenet Said:"I'll play too. Abigail's already in. Time to show these XWF short bus riders what the women of the CCWF are all about. Book me against somebody you don't care about and don't mind cleaning up the blood of after I'm through."
"And that, my friend, is why Giuseppe Jones found his way into my match. XWF's own management team just flushed that hopeful young talent's career down the toilet before it could even get started."
"Haha, oh jeez yeah I guess that is pretty bad for him if you flat out asked for a disposable piece of shit for an opponent who nobody will miss and he's the one the bookers choose. Poor guy. Well, maybe Code Red can at least make his team appear to have a fighting chance during the match so they give him another chance after you and Abigail pretty much use him as your taxi cab straight to your title shot." The usually sarcastic Vic appears to have a sudden change of heart regarding Mr. Jones - Vic looks genuinely concerned for the young go-soft's future, especially since unbeknownst to Sitre, he has already watched Giuseppe's first promo and knows what's coming. "Can I offer some advice?" Vic's question catches Sitre a little off guard when she detects the concern in his voice. "Look, I've handled a lot of clients in show business and sports. I have a feeling that when you watch Giuseppe's first promo you're going to have an endless supply of easy ammunition to fire right back into his morbidly obese face but I'd," he's interrupted quickly by "He already has a promo up? It's still Wednesday. What, did he have a stockpile of videos sitting around of him winning hot dog eating contests or something? Why the heck does this guy already have something up?"
Vic shrugs a bit as he continues, "Well I suppose it's possible he did have something pre-recorded since he hasn't done anything else in the XWF before. He was probably just really excited to get it up, but don't worry, he spliced in some comments about you directly and they're a little on the offensive side. You can just sense that this guy doesn't understand how to go into a match against two females who are no doubt the favorites to win and it's already messing with his head because between his footage of butchering some poor guy, he sneaks in a bunch of insults about you and predicts that you'll have… and I quote." He even makes the air quotes, "Boring fucking stories." Vic cringes as those amateurish words leave his lips but Sitre does that head shake blink thing like somebody just called Peter Gilmour the next Universal Champion or something.
"What the? Boring stories? Are you sure he was talking about me?" "Pretty sure," Vic says with a quick chuckle. "I mean he did spend quite a bit of time firing off jokes about Arabs, camels and referring to a Goddess. I'm guessing those jokes were aimed at you." Sitre is about to respond but Vic puts his hand up, "Please though; hear me out. This kid's obviously greener than the mold growing on Robbie Bourbon's ring attire and like I was saying I've worked with a lot of guys who get a little overzealous and nervous when it comes to this sort of thing. He feels like he has to come right out of the gate firing off race jokes and making predictable derogatory comments when he finds out he's facing two women, but I'd like to ask that you have some sympathy for the poor guy. I mean, after all, he hasn't said anything bad about me so why not cut him some slack and wait until Warfare to humiliate him?"
Sitre's eyes narrow as she is quick to answer with, "Let's go back to the boring stories comment he made. There's no 'story' in existence that I've had a hand in putting out there. In fact the only footage that relates to me or my comings and goings would be the footage that got aired shortly before Monday Madness went on the air and it mostly was made up of you and I talking about me getting into the XWF and what my immediate goals would be. So, are you telling me this ear biter is claiming real life is a story?" Vic goes to say something but this time Sitre hushes him and continues, "And if that's what he's doing, didn't he just call you boring in the process?" Vic thinks about that for a second, tapping his pen on his desk.
"You know what? Screw it. If that rookie can't hire a narrator who knows the difference between 'nervous' and 'nervoud' and he himself pronounces 'thing' as 'think' then I guess maybe I was giving him too much credit where none was due. Fuck that fat ass, Halloween blood gurgling, high school dropout in his hemorrhoid covered ass."
"Oh bull. Those points don't even matter; you're just pissed that you just realized he called real life a story; a story in which you take part in apparently and are boring."
."
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