The Rose Kitty Café
Portland, OR

Angelica Vaughn wasn’t one to remain down in the dumps for long after a loss. Not anymore. Sure, it was unfortunate that she had caught the notoriously streaky Bobby Bourbon on one of his good, if not very best, days, but such was life. She had come close to beating him, but on that day and on that evening, he had been just good enough to beat her.

Angelica had promised herself that she would keep her eyes on the future, rather than the past. Not too long ago, this loss would’ve eaten away at her, filled her head with self-doubt and self-loathing. But that would help nobody involved. It wouldn’t help her as she prepared to face The Celt and Savannah Knightley, and it wouldn’t help Jenny Myst, Raion Kido an Elijah Martin, who were counting on her to be at her very best come War Games.

Now, however, she found herself in the eye of the hurricane. Saturday Night Savage was creeping closer, and seeing as the XWF had descended upon Portland, it was the perfect time to spend some more time in her Rose Kitty Café. She had owned the business for a few years now, and it had grown considerably in size after the start-up. It had grown from a humble café to a full-on bistro, with an animal shelter attached. Not just that, they’d opened a second franchise in Dallas a few years later. It was a project near and dear to her heart. And she owed it all to wrestling, which had opened the gateway to projects like these. Many people wrestled for fame or money; and while those things were nice and Angelica didn’t judge anyone who did, projects like these enabled her to give back to local communities and help hundreds of stray animals every year. What better feeling was there than that? She couldn’t think of many.

And today, business was booming. The place was packed with travelling XWF fans who had taken the opportunity to watch a Superstar live at work, albeit on a ‘day off’. Angelica didn’t much care for the term ‘Superstar’. She felt like she hadn’t done nearly enough, in the XWF at least, to earn such an accolade, but that was apparently the common term for ‘wrestler under contract’.

After a couple more autograph signings and selfies with grateful fans, one of them came up to her.

“Angelica! Hi, my name is Marc. Hey, can you sign a picture for my niece? She’s a huge fan. Unfortunately she can’t be here tonight, but you’d make her year!”

The leggy blonde of legend beamed a wide smile. She was proud of her fan demographic. Being the one little kids looked up to was often the cause for mockery among her peers, but Angelica didn’t mind whatsoever. There weren’t enough true role models among the XWF roster. Ruby did a good job of it, Raion Kido seemed to be a good egg, and Vita tried her best at times, but after that the pool shallowed out very quickly.

”Obvs and totes, sir, it would be my pleasure!”

The fan almost squealed with glee as he handed the Angelica the picture and a sharpie.

“Oh my God, you said the things! She’s NOT going to believe me when I tell her.”

Angelica giggled, signed the picture with her name and a doodle of a kitten before handing it back.

“Thank you so much! Hey, I’ve heard rumors Jenny Myst has been walking around Portland as well, do you think she’ll pop in here? You guys are friends, right?”

”Ermmmm…. Jenny… Myst… And myself…? Friends..?”

“Yeah! I mean, she drafted you for War Games and whatnot, so I figured…”

”Oh! I see…”

Angelica got a tad nervous. She didn’t know Jenny Myst had been hanging around the area, and to be perfectly honest, was more than happy not to meet her inside of her Kitty Café. She was as unstable as she was devastating. Angelica had lost to her in her XWF debut and had felt firsthand how destructive she could be. She was easy to underestimate. Never again.

”To be perfectly honest, sir, I don’t think so. I think she has other stuff going on.”

A confrontation would be unavoidable considering War Games, but that would have to be a worry for later. Right now, she had other things on her mind.

“Oh, I see. Errrr, any chance you can get me Savannah Knightley’s number? You guys are colleagues, right?”

”Ummm, sir, even if I WAS at liberty to hand of phone numbers of colleagues, Savannah and I don’t exactly do a lot of talking, if you know what I mean?”

The man looked disappointed for a second, until it changed to a grin.

“Ohh, so it’s like that, huh? I think I know what you mean…”

”Pardon?”

“Wha-?”

”I meant I don’t really know her that well! Sheesh, people give Roxy a hard time for being promiscuous and overtly flirty, but Savannah… I mean, I don’t wanna shame, but she and I don’t hang around in the same circles and I’m all the more grateful for it. And you, sir, I wouldn’t idolize people like her. She’s not what I’d call a decent role model.”

“Oh, I know. Still, heard she’s lonely and desperate. Beggars can’t be choosers, right? Don’t worry, it’s not like I’d put up a poster of her up on the wall, but you never know… If she ever needed ‘relief’ for the night, I’d be more than happy to give it to her and bolt right out the door as soon as the sun dawns.”

Even though Angelica didn’t particularly know, or even like, Savannah, she felt kind of annoyed by that statement. It wasn’t jealousy of course, but more like feeling embarrassed on Savannah’s behalf.

”Sir, I beg your pardon!? She’s still a woman, who is free to do as she pleases. Not an object for you to turn to, to satisfy your own carnal desires!”

The man seemed to become a bit uneasy at the turn this conversation had taken. He looked away, and started shuffling his feet.

“Of… of course. My apologies. Anyway, I should get going. Thanks again for the picture!”

As he left through the front door, which pleasantly chimed as bistro doors do, Angelica sighed and leaned on the nearby countertop. Jacob, a student worker from the nearby Oregon State University who was cleaning the bar, noticed Angelica’s sudden energy dip.

“Are you okay, Angie? That dude wasn’t a dick to you or anything, was he? ‘Cause I’ll go outside and beat him up!”

Angelica smiled. She knew he didn’t mean that, but it was still funny to think about, especially because Angelica knew she could’ve wiped the floor with him one-handed if she’d wanted to. And Jacob knew it too. And at 5’6, bespectacled and with noodle arms and legs like twigs, Jacob was hardly the most intimidating figure around. It’s why he worked a student job at a Cat Café in the first place.

”No, it’s fine, Jake. I’m just a bit sad that it always boils down to this: men thinking that women are only there to serve their needs when called upon. I wish that would change, you know? What are we going to have to do for us to be considered equal?”

“I consider you equal…”

”Duhbvs, or I wouldn’t have hired you. But, like, that guy seemed like an okay sort. Clearly loves his niece, goes out of his way to get her a signed picture, and then without any kind of shame or remorse talks about some other woman like she’s just a piece of meat he can pick up and use. It worries me, you know. Sometimes all you have to do is scratch the surface for the poison to start seeping out. I kinda feel bad for Savannah.”

Jacob frowned, and pushed his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose.

“You feel bad for her? But Angie, in less than 48 hours you’re going to try and kick her head in. Literally.”

Angelica waved away the comparison.

”That’s different. It’s wrestling. It’s the business. And I know, she doesn’t always carry herself with grace and dignity, and maybe she even relishes the attention her promiscuity brings her. If so, fine. It’s not my job or my responsibility, or my place to save her from herself. I just feel bad for her ‘cause she’ll never be truly respected because of who she chooses to be. Atara’s respected. Ruby’s respected. Sierra’s respected. I’d like to think I am. But Savannah? She never will be, not even by the guys she does ‘favors’ for. Maybe them least of all.”

“Yeah, I get what you mean. But like you said, can’t save everybody from themselves. Especially if they don’t want to be saved. See, that’s where I think Ruby’s wrong sometimes. Although I do admire her idealism.”

”Yeah, maybe you’re right…”

Jacob leaned a bit closer to Angelica.

“Say… you wouldn’t happen to have her number, would you?”

Angelica gasped, not believing her ears, but as she turned towards Jacob, hands on hips, she saw his playful grin and realized she’d been played. Angelica giggled and slapped him on the shoulder.

”Haha. Little jerk!”

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As broadcasted live on #CoolTube
Near Smith Lake
Portland, OR

A large amount of people were gathered near a podium by Smith Lake. The Oregon Wetlands were the perfect locale for this particular event. On the podium? Why, none other than the leggy blonde of legend herself. She was clad in traditional Scottish garment: with a high kilt and everything. Over her shoulder, she’d slung her trust bagpipes, which had terrorized eardrums near and far, where they are. Angelica tapped the microphone to get everyone’s attention. People looked away from the many stands of Highland Ale, Irn-Bru, food trucks with Scotch Eggs and haggis, bagpipes speed courses, and much more.

”Ladies and gents, may I have your attention, pretty please? It’s been a while, but the FUN-raiser is back, people! So allow me to welcome you to the very first… erm, are they the first? I’m not sure… N-E-Wayz… Portland Highland Games! And FIRST OF ALL, it’s only cultural appropriation if you don’t give proper errr… props! So shout-out to the Scottish Highlanders, and all the Gaelic people whose fantastic ideas we are now copying because they’re so coolio-as-flame! And I know I’m wearing a kilt, traditionally worn by men, but it’s 2022, folks, normalize cross-dressing! Women can wear male skirts too! N-E-Wayz, I am doing this event in honor of my Saturday Night Savage opponent The Celt! He’s fairly new, but he has already impressed me a ton, so I hope he appreciates this. It’s a shame he can’t be with us today… guess my invitation must’ve gotten lost in the mail… but I’m sure he’s here with us in spirit! In nay case, I really do like Patrick! He’s about as old as me, and about as tall as me, so there you go!

That was a slight fib on Angelica’s behalf. While she WAS quite tall, she was nowhere near The Celt’s 6’6… although she sure would love to be.

Today’s proceeds will go towards the preservation of the Ness Islands AND the Portland Wetlands, so give generously, eat and drink all ye can, but responsibly, and have fun participating in our Highland Games! And for those worrying, even though Jenny Myst LOVES games, she will NOT be with us tonight, so you should have no issue having a fun and safe experience!”


A collective sigh of relief went through the crowd. Angelica was glad she’d given THAT disclaimer.

”But FIRST, the massing of the pipe bands!”

Dozens of pipe bands started marching, blasting a thunderous rendition of Scotland the Brave, The Black Bear, the theme from Last of the Mohicans, and a playful adaptation of Bagpipes from Baghdad before ending with the all-time classic Amazing Grace. Angelica found it hard not to tear up at the finale, and so she did. Sometimes the path of least resistance was the right one, you know? As the bands stopped playing, she joined the crowd in the rapturous applause.

”Wow! Wasn’t that amazeballz?? I can now officially declare the Fun-Raiser Portland Highland Games… OPENED!”

The crowd cheered and made their way towards the various events like hammer throwing, stone putting, weight throwing, sheaf tossing. There was a lot of throwing involved, apparently. But Angelica had her own eye set on a particular one: the caber toss. She went up to what she presumed was the referee, and asked for a quick explanation of the rules as she waited her turn.

“Miss Vaughn! Welcome to the caber toss. You will have to throw these large logs using the proper underhanded technique!”

”Underhanded? But sir, I never break the rules!”

“You misunderstand, love. It’s just HOW you throw, it’s got nothing to do with underhanded tactics or cheating. Important to remember is that the distance is of no consequence. A successful toss is achieved when you manage to flip the caber over, turning it end over end. The highest you can score is 12 points!”

”This is so craxily cool beans! So how do I get twelve points, like in the Eurovision Contest?”

“Well, when your caber falls over, think of it as a dial on a watch. The closer you are to the twelve o’clock position, the closer to twelve points you are! In technical terms: the straighter, the better!”

”Hmmm, that doesn’t sound very woke to me… But I guess I’ll try it!”

Assistants helped put the caber on her interlocked hands. The top-heavy log wasn’t easy to balance, and it required a lot of strength to even keep it upright. Luckily, Angelica knew how to use her powerful legs for balance and support of her upper body. As soon as the log was balancing on her and the assistants released it, the referee gave the all-clear. She ran forward and imagined herself pulling off a perfect toss. And as was often the case with people with trained muscle memory, her body followed the actions of the mind. With all her power she let it fall forward slightly before throwing it end over end. The log went high, high up into the air before turning and falling over.

The crowd applauded as it landed, and Angie opened her eyes to see the result of her throw. The referee was already measuring her score. Angelica nervously started to hop on the spot.

”how’d I do how’d I do how’d I do???”

The ref looked back at her and nodded.

“Not bad at all for a first try, Miss Vaughn! I’d say that’s a score of 10:00 on the dot!”

”Yay! I love getting tens!”

The ref walked back and shook her hand.

“You seem to have a knack for this!”

”Thank you so much! I wasn’t sure how well I’d do. The first time is always difficult, you know?”

Angelica took a step back and wondered if The Celt had ever participated in these kinds of games. Or was she thinking about him in too stereotypical a fashion?

The thought gave her pause for a second, but she quickly shrugged it off. She couldn’t imagine he’d be offended if he asked her that. After all, the guy wore a kilt and claymore to the ring under a theme tune of bagpipes! If anyone was perpetrating stereotypes, he was! But then again, it was a very cool stereotype… The Scottish had style, Angelica couldn’t deny that. Nor did she want to.

No. her mind was set. After their match, she was gonna ask him about it. She just hoped he’d be in a talkative mood. Not that she was going to go easy on him during the match, but she did hope he was enough of a professional to keep those two things separate. Friends were a scarce commodity in this industry, especially for ‘the good guys’. The bad ones, the vile ones, the nasty ones usually had no trouble finding someone to bond with over just how bad, vile and nasty THEY could be… And besides, it sounded like Patrick had gone through a lot. Maybe he’d welcome the sight of a friendly face… even if that face belonged to someone who had tried to cave in his skull moments earlier.

However the match would turn out, Angelica knew she was in for a ferocious battle. Both Savannah and The Celt were going to make it hard for her to carry some momentum into War Games. But this match would provide a clear opportunity to make it very apparent to the XWF and the rest of the world that Angelica had been underdrafted. She’d beaten Adi, the then-Chameleon, Vita freakin’ Valenteen, Edgar, Reggie,… She’d come close to winning Leap of Faith, and had put one of the XWF’s best wrestlers in Bobby Bourbon through the ringer. This match was a building block for her legacy. Legacies stood on strong foundations, they weren’t built on flashes in the pan or fluke victories. If she wanted to continue to establish herself as a force to be reckoned with, she couldn’t lose matches like these, no matter what the level of competition. She could already see herself winning, just like how she had envision herself tossing the caber. And Savannah and Patrick had best prepare themselves properly, because it was going to be…

#VAUGHNEMOUS!

-fin-