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Lacklan · (03-23-2019)

Crunch

Crunch

Poke

Soft, wet sounds.

Crunch

Crunch

Poke

Again and again, seemingly for all time, the figure in the hooded cloak moves through the snow. A ball of black against the new-fallen powder, the figure moves ever onward, the black cane its hand leaving a tiny hole next to the bootprints. The even lines of three go back far past the horizon on this dark morning in Maine, and head towards a large gate.

Crunch

Crunch

Poke

The figure finally stands before the gate, pausing to lean heavily on the cane, before reaching forward with its free hand to touch the wrought iron. Red felt gloves touch the gate, lingering with a caress, before grasping the handle and pulling, opening the gate with a loud screech, the groaning protest of the gate making birds take flight from nearby trees, awakened too early from their slumber. Through the gate the figure goes, the lines of three holes continuing their endless trek.

Crunch

Crunch

Poke

Dark shapes appear before the figure as it climbs a hill and comes to the crest. The figure continues, drawing closer and closer, until the figures solidify into a collection of tombstones. Some aged and weathered, some new, one rather fresh. The figure comes to a halt before the freshest and again leans heavily on the cane.

”Hello, Father.”

The British accent sounds particularly clipped in the cold morning. After planting the cane so as to stick into the ground, the head of the pigeon now clear, arms raise up and the gloved hands come out of billowing sleeves to take hold of the hood and fling it backward. The bright white face of Sarah Selena Grey-Lacklan blends into the snowy background, her odd red eyes and lips painted to match them standing out as starkly as a rose in the wintry landscape. Her eyes find the writing on the tombstone, the epitaph letting the world that the husband and father had “Brought the Light.”

”I am sorry that it has been so long. I hope you are doing well. And I know its a little early...it’s not the anniversary of your passing for a couple of weeks...but this was the best time for me to come. Step-Mumsie is having a party, its her birthday in a couple of days, and I might be out of the country on the right day, so I hope this is okay. Would you mind if I lay against your back? Like old times?”

Taking hold of her cane again, Sarah walks to the opposite side of the tall tombstone. Placing her rear end against the stone, she uses the cane to help ease herself downward, sliding against the stone until she is sitting upon the light layer of snow.

“I’m pretty tired, Daddy. It feels like I have been going non-stop since I came back from my injury. When I’m not wrestling or training, I’m off promoting something. Interviews. Travel. Helping at the studio. Never-ending. And...unfortunately...it’s kinda caught up to me.”

She reaches forward and rubs her right leg over her coat.

“Its been tough since I came back. I mean, I was able to win a tag title with Kenzi, and that might be the highlight of my career, ya know? But there have been other things. Other disappointments. Tournament finals. Singles championship matches. Just not quite good enough. Need to get back to what made me so successful. So, I’m on the road again. Back on a world tour, of sorts, just like you. Right this second I’m working for a friend...of sorts...and am closing in on a tournament final.”

She laughs suddenly, a sad sound in the cold night.

“And just like you always taught me, I have them confused and underestimating me. They still fall for it, Daddy. All the marketing. All the promotion. They really think I’m just some media personality. Just like you taught me. Who would have thought that my old vlog would be such a big weapon!”

She laughs again, this time with her smile reaching all the way up to her eyes.

“They never suspect what I really am, ya know? You were big on pomp and circumstance, but on the theatrics. Confused people. Got into their heads. My own brand does it just as well. Like, I have this potential opponent, right? She’s got a gimmick, too. Gamer. I know it sounds weird, and you probably wouldn’t ‘get’ it, but people pay to watch other people play video games. Weird, right? And you’d be SHOCKED at how many people do it. And there is this chick I’m facing, right? She is SO caught up in my media personality, SO confused and tricked into who I am, that she spent, like, an HOUR going on and on about how much she hates it. Imagine that? Imagine spending a third of your promotional time telling somehow how irrelevant they are...thereby disproving your own point about their irrelevance.”

She shakes her head, again finding comfort in the feel of the stone against the back of her head.

“I’ll never be able to thank you enough for teaching me to see through the bullshit. And nothing is more bullshit than someone who’s entire bit is to get bonus points from neckbeard incels jerking off with one hand while tipping their fedora with the other by appealing to games and graphics that remind them of a time before they were sweaty hunks of whale fat working part time for minimum wage telling YOU that you’re irrelevant or annoying.”

She shrugs her shoulders.

“But we’ll see how well using two pixel icons over and over again to make up a third of your production so that it overwhelms those neckbeards and hides the fact that what she has to say is so thin that it could be used to make a croissant goes for her. Me? I’ll keep doing what I do. I’ll confound my opponents. I’ll strip away their layers. I’ll expose them to the Light. And then defeat them.”

She lets out a long sigh.

“Another thing that I find interesting...and sad...about some of these people I am fighting, these people who have fallen so hard for the person they see in the media, is that they have intimated that my marriage is a stunt. Something to add to my character, to make me more interesting.”

Red eyes shine with thin wells of tears.

“I know what you wanted for me. FROM me. To marry some nice boy in Congress. To have children. To strengthen the blood in our house. But…”

A tear pulls free from it’s well and finds its way down her face, etching a deep line in her makeup.

“Coming out to you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. And I will never forget what you told me. Thank you, Daddy.”

“I’m rich, bitch!”

Sarah starts as the Kentucky accent pierces the serene morning. She pats her robe until she locates her phone and pulls out the clunky device. Fingers pressing buttons find the notification of the text from Dolly Waters.

15 Will Get You 30, Creeper
They’re ready

Sarah nods at the phone.

”Well, Daddy…

Her fingers flash at their mind-bending speed.

Sarah is the Best, Sarah Number One
Heading back

”Time to go put on a show.”

She puts her phone back in her pocket and sits still, there serenity in her face giving the truth of her enjoyment of the silence.

“I miss you, Daddy.”

She reaches over and places her gloved hand onto the tombstone next to her, this one worn and battered by time.

“I love you, Mumsie.”

With a grunt of effort, Sarah pushes herself up to her feet. Pulling her hood back over her face, she begins the lines of the holes anew and heads back the way she came.

* * * * * * * * * *

Yo yo yo! This is Kimora Lee Simmons here and, no, you are NOT in some alternate dimension! That’s right, kids, this is a NEW edition of MTV Cribs! That’s right, rumors of us being shitcanned because of allegations that we basically make up a LOT of this stuff are WAY overblown! So do me a solid and just love what you’re seeing because we have a CRAZY-

Craxy

...um...what?

Its craxy, obvs.

I don’t even-

Listen, sweet tits: Just because you are a hawt-ass Asian chick doesn’t mean you get to get away with NOT reading the contract. Didn’t you get the 13-page slide presentation on the lexicon?

Um-

PLEASE try to stay in character, Ms Simons. You AREN’T Lux jumping back and forth between what he sounds like from one video to the next, m’kay? Consistency is key to winning tournaments!

Um...right...sorry…

Now try again. From “So do me…” annnnnnnd ACTION

Ahem...um...so do me a solid and just love what you’re seeing because we have a CRAXY time to show you tonight! Because the MTV executives knew that if we were EVER going to bring back my show, it would be for a VERY special occasion! And what is MORE special than the person standing right next to me! You might know her from her popular vlog the PrincessTwilightSexyFang podcast-

Twilight Sparkle eff tee DUB!

-available through the CoolTube app. You might know her as one of the faces of the Lingerie Football League’s Cincy Hit Girls-

Inching closer to .500, bay-bay!

-but most importantly, you probably DO know here from the wacky, insane, and dead sexy world of professional wrestling...she is Sarah Selena Grey-Lacklan!

* * * * * * * * * *

Sarah Selena Grey-Lacklan stands in all of her glory. In a red and black dress lined with large bows and white and red petticoats trailing behind her, the Firestarter is the picture of grace and fashion...if a few centuries late. Her black and red hat is lined with peacock feathers and would be the talk of the town at any royal wedding, and her long platinum braid is lined with a row of tiny bows.

“Welcome to my crib!”

Sarah gestures behind herself to a large set of wrought-iron gates, the center of which is dominated by an ornately crafted cross set in the center of a sunburst, her waving arms begging for use to take it all in.

“Well, the one I grew up in, anyway. As you ALL know, especially the two tryhard edgelords in my match who STALK everything I do in hopes of seeing an upskirt shot that becomes their masterbation fantasies for the next week, I live in Hollywood Hills in California...and spend WAY too much time in shitty places like Illinois and the Carolinas...but THIS is where I grew up! Do a little spin, camera dude, so that everyone can take it in. Maine, baby!

The cameraman obeys and turns slowly. We are treated to the bright snow on the ground, now nearly washed away; many trees surrounding the gated house, with the peaks of a forest off in the distance; and even further, the soft blues and purples of blueberry and lavender fields. The albino’s Billion $$$ smile is wide and bright as the camera returns.

”Now, we’re here today with the MTV Cribs team because there are SOME PEOPLE who think that WRESTLING is about dumb-ass lame shit like video games, shitty Netflix Eon Flux rip offs that NO ONE watches, and the next ‘group of angsty teens with superpowers’ show to be canceled after one season, and I want to show ALL of them that, unlike their own shitty takes on wrestling and wrestlers not mattering in wrestling videos, I am all ABOUT wrestling. Its in my DNA. Its in my relationships. Its in the very soul of my homeland. And today happens to be a very SPECIAL day because Step-Mumsie is having a party! She’s going to be the ANCIENT age of twenty-nine...God, I can’t even IMAGINE what that is like...and a shit-TON of people are going to be here. So, let’s check it out!”

Sarah spins on the long heel of her boot, her skirts spinning with a flourish, and she stomps forward. The camera follows her as she moves towards the gates, and men in black livery with slashes of purple and silver for relief appear from the sides, opening the large gate before her. Inward she goes, the camera dutily following, as she walks up to the massive house. She stands before the door and looks upward, craning her neck to peer at the very top.

“I need to be honest with all of you outright: I grew up rich. I mean, I’M not rich, ya know? Like, I have a HUGE trust that will be available to me in a few years, and a TON of family money tied up to me in land, but I’m not, like liquid to the point where I can hop on a plane in order to stick my tongue up Lux’s ass the way Thad does at a moment’s notice, or anything. I wonder if Thad realizes how much a private jet...with it’s maintenance...and rising feul costs...and giving a KILLER wage to an on-call pilot...actually COSTS? I doubt it...because FUCK any sense of realism, right? That’s just be dumb!”

She reaches out towards the door and grasps the handle.

“The family were industrialists for a VERY long time. We established one of the very first canning companies, and for anyone that has been to Maine, you’ll know that canning fish is a HUGE deal. Along with a recycling plant, the family was GOLD, let me tell you. But along with business and education, physical fitness was important. I never knew Grandfather...or Great-Grandfather...but I knew they didn’t initially approve of Daddy becoming a wrestler...but...well…”

She pulls opens the wide double doors and the camera is overwhelmed by opulence. The hall fits the category of “grand” in a way which would make the designers of a palace jealous, and is filled with architecture pulled from the 14th century and starkly contrasted colors from the modern age. The room is filled with party-goers, the men wearing long coats with tails to their feet, the women in colors and cuts that could nearly rival Sarah herself, but our eyes are drawn to many busts and statues. Lined along walls, in center pieces of honor, is a man with three faces: One with long flowing hair and a severe chin; one with a white mask an a bald head full of ugly burn scars; one with a hood and black mask covering every inch but a slot for goggles.

“Daddy did alright.”

Sarah’s smirk is confident as she walks into the room, the sounds of her heeled boots muted by a thick red carpet and then swallowed up by all of the people in the room.

“Daddy insisted that I become the person who was going to be the face of our family, ya know? Along with the private education from the BEST tutors money could buy, I also studied dance and voice. Opera would have been a great choice! Got into swimming as I got older...still pretty damn good at it...and, of course, cheer. But what I really wanted? What I craved? Wrestling. Just like him.”

She stops before one of the statues, this one of the man with the flowing hair.

“I was fourteen when he let me join him in his gym. Fourteen when I got to pick up my first bar. Couple years of that, and then it was training for REAL. He taught me the basics. Nikita Dolore...my legit hero...taught me how to deal with being a woman in this sport, from dealing with egotistical men, shitty fedheads, and my wife’s personal favorite subject, where to get feminine products on the road.”

She offers a smile to the statue, and while it is joyful, there is a touch of sadness at the corners of her lips.

“I KILLED in my debut. And I’ve never stopped. Because THIS is what life is about. THIS is what wrestling is about. Being a second generation star who doesn’t take ANYONE’S shit or allow anyone to hold her down. And all around me?”

She gestures deep into the room, past the clumps of party-goers.

“People who breed success.”

The camera follow as Sarah wades through the crowd. But she halts and stares at a duo of men to the side, her mouth dropping open.

“No way!”

She gestures to the camera to come to her with large waves of her hands.

“Speaking of! So, like, ya know how SOME of the people in this match are surrounded by dumb shit like mechs and T-800’s? Well, people like ME are surrounded by wrestlers! Check THIS out! SELFIE TIME!

Sarah lunges in between the two men. Both taller than her, one is an older man with graying hair and a powerfully orange tie, while the other seems as if he hasn’t slept in a year, with dark circles under grey-blue eyes. Sarah smiles up at them, first pointing to the man with the tie.

“This is Johnny Bonecrusher! Manager to the Midcard, or something.”

“You can go to hell!”

“Just razzing, you know that! This guy is a FOUNTAIN of information and advice! And no, I’m not talking about researching the 1991 Nintendo Power archives to figure out what the fuck you’re suppose to do about the chickens and magic powder in Link to the Past; no, I’m talking about ACTUAL information that help to do things like win tournaments! J-Bone here has been EXCELLENT at teaching things like pacing myself, because winning a tournament isn’t about going all-in on ONE match, it’s about having the stamina to do MANY. And that’s a totally different skillset, and only the ONE person in this match that CAN do that is who is going to win, right?”

The look on Johnny’s face one of surprise. Sarah claps him on the shoulder and turns to the other man.

“And this here is my godfather, Dex! Say hello, Dex!”

The man in black with the sad eyes doesn’t move a muscle. Sarah gives one of her large eyerolls and shakes her head.

“Godfather here is a wrestling journalist! You know, one of those people who started taking pictures and writing articles back in the stone age, yeah? He’s been able to teach me some VERY important things, like doing research on opponents and such, right? See, as Fucktard Bro #5 can tell you, I know a LOT about the history of wrestling, but I ALSO know that a LOT of my wrestling style is basically meant to counter people, right? And Game Girl’s entire bit is about using shitty beginner’s combos like Medium Punch+Medium Punch+High Punch+High Kick, which is for Ryu, bee tee dubs, right? And she’ll go for her shitty beginners target combo by going for her standing medium punch the second time, and I’ll counter it into an arm lock or something, and then BLAMO! Her entire strategy is GONE! And someone as one-dimensionally stupid as SHE is won’t be able to get into Plan B, ya know?”

Sarah scrunches her lip in thought.

“I wonder if she’ll stop being a little bitch and answer my Gif-Off after she has to change “Could Lacklan Be Next?” over to “Sigh...Lacklan beat me up :’(“

She claps Dexter on the arm.

“Enjoy the party, guys!”

And off the albino goes, her braid swaying back and forth as she skips, and then comes to another stop.

“Step-Mumsie selfie time!”

“So, this is Step-Mumsie! The woman who was WAY TOO FUCKING YOUNG for my father all those years ago! Say hello, Ava!”

The woman in the shining green dress, her hair as bright as Sarah’s, scowls down at the star of our Cribs production. Sarah shakes her head and smiles.

“Ava...or Aveline...or Le Bord de Dieu if you’re nasty…is ALSO a wrestler! See, she and father met in this fed years ago, right? And he was all ‘Come to the Light! and she was all ’Oh, I’ll come to somethin’, alright.’”

Aveline’s scowl deepens and Sarah rolls her eyes.

”ANYWAY, the reality of the situation is that Bordy here...as we affectionately call her...isn’t just here for her upcoming birthday, but ALSO because she is about to break a record in her company! She has been the Chaos Champion...which is their version of this CRAXY-ASS hardcore title...for more days in her career than ANYONE! And WHY you might ask? Because she, like everyone in my family...even those married in...are REALLY GOOD at winning championships! Hell, she’s even in a world title match on Monday! Now, THIS is relevant because this is someone who...whether ANY of us like it or not...is someone whom I talk to ALL the time about wrestling. History. Tactics. Wins and losses. We help each other. Work with each other. And the best part about that?”

Sarah faces the camera and gives an exaggerated wink.

“She’s not a completely ridiculous flying machine that knows every bit of data in the history of the world.

She turns back to the woman and squeezes her shoulder.

“Just wait until you get my birthday present!”

With a spin, she lets her skirts fly as she skips away from her step-mother and finds herself facing a foursome well known within the world of wrestling.

”GROUP SELFIE!”

“That’s called a groupie, bb.”

”SHIT UP, ROXY!”

”So! THESE are my best friends, and why THAT matters I’ll get to in a sec. But first...ROLL CALL!”

She slinks over to a boxum blonde with green eyes. She wears a scandalous outfit which is open from her neck down to her waist, thus allowing a VAST amount of her surgically-altered cleavage to be seen, and a bottom half of the ensemble which is, lets face it, just lingerie.

”All of you guys know Roxy Cotton, the #ForeverFiance of our bossman, Vinnie Lane. But what you probs DON’T know is that Rox is a BADASS WRESTLER! Now, I know that many of you are all ‘HER TITS ARE FAKE AND SHE’S MEAN,’ to which you are right...on both accounts...but she is ALSO a mutli-time champion who has just about DOMINATED in every fed she’s been in. Hell, she’s the #ForeverChamp of, like, six belts, so that’s pretty badass! Oh! AND! She’s taught me how to drive PERFECTLY, so that’s pretty cool, too.”

Sarah hops over to another blonde, this one with hair of spun gold. Tall and lithe, the woman with bright blue eyes wears a dress as ridiculous as Sarah herself.

”This totes too tall Leggy Blonde of Legend is none other than WORLD CHAMPION, Angie Vaughn! She’s had, like, a bagillion titles, been champ of all of Mexico, has some kind of crown in one of those Twitter feds, and has ALSO helped me become a PERFECT driver. Oh, and she MIGHT be hitting on Drew just about every day over their shared love of pussy...cats.”

Angie’s pale skin reddens in mortification as Sarah spins away and comes to a full stop before a woman with caramel skin and a head full of thin braids. Sarah’s face breaks out into a silly grin as the woman winks and blows her a kiss.

“And of course, you have all met the woman known professional as Kenzi Grey, but who personally leaped at the chance to add a hyphen to it. My Beloved has traveled all across the world with me in this crazy life, and has won her own fair share of championships, including being a two-time tag champion with ME.”

She takes Kenzi’s hand in hers, her eyes drinking in the stark contrast in their skin tones, and then turns towards the camera.

“Every combination of us has a name, as we have all worked together in tag ranks at some time. But collectively? We are the #CoolKids. We travel the world, pushing each other, driving each other, DEFEATING each other, and then going out afterward to celebrate each other victories. The point of all this is simple: I have opponents in this tournament who surround themselves with fantasy. They surround themselves with escapism. They don’t want to live within the world where they are bottom-feeding trash who get picked on by every tier of person from the top of the ladder to the lower rung. They don’t want to have to deal with people like ME.

“You see, even with all of my endeavors, even with all of my adventures, I am a WRESTLER. Its in my blood, and I will pass that down to my progeny. Its in the people I listen to and learn from. Its in the people I choose to be around. Excellence in wrestling is MY brand. So while Game Girl’s is about running away from a world where her lack of interpersonal skills leads to her only being able to work in a small room with a headset on and a six-pack of Bang Cola, and while Lux’s brand is about doing whatever he can to sell his Robotek Mary Sue erotica so that he can get out of his shithole cardboard box, MINE is about redefining an industry with a power and grace never before seen. And while I know that it’s not something I could ever do on my own…”

Sarah squeezes Kenzi’s hand and looks at her two other friends.

“I and my friends ARE #SquadGoals, and no amount of Game Girl LAN parties or Gundam Mobile Suit filled with horny chicks from Lux’s dreams are going to compare with that. Because by being ME, by being the Firestarter, the Bloodletter, the red and black, the revolution, I am uplifting and entire industry and bringing it into a light never before thought of.”

Sarah smirks as she sees a head full of dirty blonde hair, face down in a phone, making its way toward her.

“And speaking of uplifting people…”

Sarah leaps forward and catches Dolly Waters by the side and hugs her close.

”Selfie!

“Dolly here is a GREAT KID and has SO MUCH potential. Especially when she loses to me in the tournament final.”

Sarah gives her an exaggerated wink and Dolly responds with a respectable “Sarah Lacklan Eyeroll of DOOM~!” impression.

“Dolly has been AWESOME in her first week as a member of the Legion! She’s legit at booking parties and appointments, shockingly DIDN’T go over on her spending account, and has been able to successfully annoy at LEAST six adults this weekend. And pretty soon, since I am a PERFECT driver, I’m going to be teaching her how to drive!”

Sarah smiles at Dolly, who smiles back. Behind them, Kenzi, Roxy, and Angie share a concerned look full of fear at that idea.

“Whatcha up to, kid?”

”Nothin’. Just watchin’ vids. You catch Lux?”

Sarah offers her OWN eyeroll.

“THAT guy. He keeps ‘spitting fire,’ or whatever they call it, but all he’s done is prove my point from the other day. Remember how I said that Lux is the seventeen year old kid who nuts way too fast and is now is going to turn over and pass out? Totes what happened. He shot his juice all OVER the place with his first salvo, ya know? And it WAS a good shot! I mean, not like North or anything, but still some good coverage. But since then? He’s got nothing left. Now’s he’s like a porn star filming his third scene of the day, ya know? Just a pathetic little piddle of watery juice that leaves everyone rolling their eyes. And that’s even WITH jacking off after getting a thirty minute rim job from Thad! And Thaddy Boy was all UP in there, ya know?”

”Yer right. Thad is my friend, and all, but that’s kinda gross.”

“And don’t EVEN get me started on saying that me talking to my psychiatrist about a story that got all UP in his feels isn’t original...while sitting in a chair and talking directly the camera! Oh, hey, can you do me a favor? You got Game Girl’s number?”

”Yeah. She gave it to me when I got that autograph from her when I was, like 11.”

”Ew. You has SHITTY tastes in people when you were 11 years old!”

”Tell me about it. And apparently I’m not allowed to think different now that I’m not an idiot child who thinks lame pieces of shit were cool! Hold on, let me call her.”

Dolly puts her phone to her ear and then frowns.

”Straight to voicemail. Hold on, let me put it on speaker.”

She presses a few buttons and Game Girl’s voice comes to life.

"You’ve reached Game Girl’s cell phone, and I’m too busy to answer the phone right now. See, I’m waiting for Sarah Lacklan to say something so that I can bust out my dreaded CTRL+C/CTRL+V combo, followed up with my ‘I KNOW WHERE THE QUOTE BUTTON IS’ finisher, because I’m a fucking moron who can’t form her own opinions on her opponent or her own motivations on why she would want to win something. You see, unless my opponent gives me something to work with, I just sit in front of the camera with my thumb up my ass and go “DERRRRRRR I LIKES THE MEGA MAN” so I REALLY need to pay attention and not miss the actual ORIGINAL and INSPIRED CONTENT of Sarah. Hot damn, I LOVE that chick. AND fear her. And, lets face it, LOVE to FEAR her. Power of I’m a dipshit loser who has to fill a third of my video with nonsense so as to cover up the fact that my depth is shockingly shallow at max!”

The two look down at the phone, with Dolly’s matching Sarah’s distinctive “chewing my lips while thinking” posture.

”Welp, not too surprised there.

She looks up suddenly and peers into the party.

”Know what we should do? Let you a cute boy.”

Dolly’s eyes go wide and her mouth opens.

”...wut…”

Sarah chews her lips again.

”Cute girl?”

Dolly’s face turns as red as Sarah’s dress. Sarah raises her hand and moves it up and down.

”Cute somewhere in the middle?”

Embarrassment turns to near hyperventilation. Sarah shrugs and giggles.

”We’ll figure it out. Come, my young padawan!”

Sarah takes her by the wrist and leads her into the throng.

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