Post by alycestarchylde on Apr 29, 2018 18:22:15 GMT -5
Alyce and MDK sat at a black plastic-topped table at a coffee shop somewhere in downtown Los Angeles. Alyce was dressed in a simple black t-shirt and a pink and blue skirt. She wore Doc Marten Combat boots with Union Jack's painted on the ankles. Across from her sat a beautiful woman in her forties, her raven black hair piled atop her head in a modified beehive. She wore a conservative black dress and had the slimmest of rings piercing the left side of her nose.
A nod to her 'wild side', thought Alyce.
The woman's name was Michelle Something Italian and she represented a film company that had become quite interested in Alyce. With her was a 20 something in a casual suit, with a collar-less button down shirt, a charcoal jacket and matching chinos. Alyce couldn't remember his name and he seemed to exist to hand Michelle papers and fetch fresh coffee. Of course, he would probably also run to the moon and fellate himself on command. He was one of those insufferable pandering stooges that troll around Hollywood, feeding off the underbelly of the bigger fish until they had amassed enough power to exist upon their own.
MDK was wearing a red suit with a pink shirt and looked like nothing so much as a devil on his day off considering what souls he might which to purchase.
Alyce smiled at him as Michelle Italian Whore prated on.
“...Darling,” the woman continued, “what little of your adventure with that LARPing group made it online went viral overnight. What that tells me is that the public wants to see you in a larger role...”
(In her head, Alyce pictured standing up and kicking the woman right in the nose, squashing it like a bug and forcing it to explode in a shower of blood...)
“...I mean, I am sure you get plenty of exposure in this...wrestling...thing...you do but really, how long can that last...”
(the flunky stands up and cheers as Alyce grabs the woman, now bleeding from her broken nose by her old-timey nod to a beehive hairdo and smashes her face first into the plastic topped table...)
“...and frankly, that's really no place for a girl as pretty as you, and let's be honest, you have quite a fan base and you owe it to them to do something meaningful...”
(the flunky was now doing victory laps and crowing as Alyce grabbed the woman's still scalding Americano with soy foam and poured it over the back of her head. The woman began screaming loudly...)
“...and you'd really be PERFECT for the main character in our vampire movie. So much better exposure than playing some sort of Dungeons and Dragons thing with a bunch of charisma-less nerds...
(Alyce flipped the bitch onto her back and stuffed the now wadded up contract into the woman's screaming mouth. The flunky began to masturbate on his beaten former boss.)
Suddenly a smile crossed Alyce's face, for the first time since the meeting happened.
“...I'm sorry, is there a problem,” Michelle whatshername asked.
She pointed at Alyce's hand and Alyce realized she had wadded up the contract the woman had handed her earlier.
“No, it's fine,” Alyce lied, “I...was uh...paying attention to your assistant...he made a funny face.”
The woman stared daggers at the man who in turn stared at Alyce like a man whose been shot by a friend.
Michelle spoke quickly, “Yes well Brad can be...funny...but he usually doesn't interrupt important business, I am sure he can get another copy of the contract...”
Alyce held up her hand and restrained herself from punching the woman in the face.
“There's no need,” Alyce replied, “when your studio called me, I assumed I would be shown something novel, something intelligent. But what you have described to me is crap...sheer crap. It's badly written Dracula with me in the Van Helsing role. Buffy, anyone? I don't know how your studio has managed to stay in business for so long with dreck such as this but frankly, I want no part in it. Say what you will about that 'Dungeans and Dragons thing I do with a bunch of charisma-less nerds' but at least they try to be original or at the very least passionate. I'm sure the closest you come to fashion is getting fucked on your hands and knees by some muscle bound studmuffin because you don't have time for a relationship! Fuck you very much.”
Alyce turned and walked out of the coffee shop slamming the door open with unnecessary force. She made it outside and was joined at the last minute by MDK. He was about to fall over as he was lauging hysterically and attempting to keep up with her.
“Dear God,” he managed as she strutted away “Did you see the look her assistant gave you when you rolled him under the bus? And that pompous potato-woman, I've never seen you savage ANYONE like that before! Forget the movie, film that!”
“Do you want me to apologize, Danny,” Alyce asked fuming as she made it to his limo. She climbed in the back and he joined her.
“Fuck no,” he responded, “she's a fucking potato with dreams of glory. She deserves what she got and I am pretty sure her assistant sleeps in a trunk wearing a gimp mask.”
She smiled in spite of herself, the image giving her a giggle.
“I pictured beating the lady up, it's the only way I could fake it through the meeting,” she said, “for some reason I pictured him jerking off on her after I finished.”
MDK guffawed with laughter screaming, “He's TOTALLY the type.” Soon he managed to rein in his mirth.
There was a long silence.
“So, not movie for you, then,” he asked.
“Fuck no,” she replied, “you know if it was a story I liked or a character I believed in, I'd do it. But I believe in what we have built here and I believe it is in us to be the greatest force in the WGWF today or ever...I'll be damned if I give that up for anything. Now, let's get to the gym. We have work to do.”
The limo pulled out onto the LA freeway as the Mad Queen and her Mad King prepared to take war to the WGWF.
Alyce sits in a stone throne and she stares into the camera. A smile on her face and raw anger shines in her eyes.
“Before I get to our opponents this week let me deal with a sniveling little worm named Tristan Slater. Tristan, congratulations. You escaped with your title. Notice the word I use is 'escaped'. Not retained. You didn't retain it because you didn't pin me. Pure and simple. Now, I know you are gonna go on and on about how a two on one match works, but you didn't pin me. You have...NEVER pinned me. Not once. I honestly don't think you can. But then again, that's your MO isn't it. You couldn't pin MDK either, so you pinned Cable. When you are outgunned, your go to is to take out the weakest link and escape. Mark my words, Slater, sooner or later, you and I will be in a ring again and I will make DAMN sure that you can't get to a weaker link and when you've tried and failed to pin me for the 92nd time, I am going to lay you out, I'm going to pin you and take your oh so precious title and you can crawl off and cradle your poor broken manhood.
Now, with that out of my system, let's move on to our opponents this week. Let's go to the difficult one first and in this combination, that would be you Cable. Cable, let me ask you something,...are you sick of me kicking your ass yet? Because I almost am. I mean, you went from being the guy I couldn't beat to the guy who couldn't win. I warned you. I warned you oh so many weeks ago that sooner or later, I would have your number and your size wouldn't save you. Welcome to my prediction fulfilled. Frankly, you have reached a point where you are nothing but a bitch and a half assed obstacle. What happened to you? I mean other than you being used as the easy link in the chain by Tristan Slater, your supposed friend? When did you lose your edge?
You know what? It doesn't really matter. Even if you were the bad old Cable from the monster days, you STILL wouldn't be enough to carry Borden's ancient ass into battle. How about you just drag a dead body to the ring with you. At least then you can hit someone with the coffin and do some damage. I mean, I have MDK in my corner a LEGENDARY bad ass and one with an impressive history of not getting beaten by chumps. And let me make this clear. Both of you ARE chumps.
And that brings me to the chumpiest chump that ever chumped a chump...Terry Fuckin' Borden. Borden, I damn near killed you the first time I got you in a ring...and I made you pay for stepping into my world the second time I encountered you. Do you REALLY think that you are going to fare any better this time?
Vegas just called, You are the odds on favorite to lose this match. Yup, you are a Tristan Slater wet dream, a weak link in a multi-person match. Borden I am sure you were a good idea once...But the name Borden hasn't been relevant for a while and I don't care how you lucked into a short ass title run. They call such things flukes and it hastily corrected itself. Like a hiccup. Here and now, well the only relevancy you had was your closeness to Tristan Slater and I used you to hurt the man...you know, the way he tried to use me to hurt MDK. Since then you have attempted to hang around but you aren't exactly awash in 'W's. How Cable wound up with you for a partner I don't know but he is probably on the phone to the personnel office as we speak trying to find a replacement. Pathetic.
This week, you are a couple of chipmunks walking into a buzz saw because I have a bit of a mad on. I have decided that I have been too nice. It won't happen again. From here on out, the Royal Family declares WAR on the WGWF and if you schlubs want to survive you can join the best or die like the rest. The war starts this week as we tear you two limb from limb. We are going to do our best to retire you two and destroy the ring and maybe even the building.
It's about to get dangerous on the WGWF roster because if you aren't one of us, you are wearing a target! So, put on your big boy Underoos and step right the hell up because the Mad King and I are lighting a powder keg under this place and if you aren't with us...then you are part of the wreckage.
So step up boys, there is about to be a fight for the soul of the WGWF and you are about to become examples. Welcome to Wonderland boys...there's a war on and you are on the losing side."
A nod to her 'wild side', thought Alyce.
The woman's name was Michelle Something Italian and she represented a film company that had become quite interested in Alyce. With her was a 20 something in a casual suit, with a collar-less button down shirt, a charcoal jacket and matching chinos. Alyce couldn't remember his name and he seemed to exist to hand Michelle papers and fetch fresh coffee. Of course, he would probably also run to the moon and fellate himself on command. He was one of those insufferable pandering stooges that troll around Hollywood, feeding off the underbelly of the bigger fish until they had amassed enough power to exist upon their own.
MDK was wearing a red suit with a pink shirt and looked like nothing so much as a devil on his day off considering what souls he might which to purchase.
Alyce smiled at him as Michelle Italian Whore prated on.
“...Darling,” the woman continued, “what little of your adventure with that LARPing group made it online went viral overnight. What that tells me is that the public wants to see you in a larger role...”
(In her head, Alyce pictured standing up and kicking the woman right in the nose, squashing it like a bug and forcing it to explode in a shower of blood...)
“...I mean, I am sure you get plenty of exposure in this...wrestling...thing...you do but really, how long can that last...”
(the flunky stands up and cheers as Alyce grabs the woman, now bleeding from her broken nose by her old-timey nod to a beehive hairdo and smashes her face first into the plastic topped table...)
“...and frankly, that's really no place for a girl as pretty as you, and let's be honest, you have quite a fan base and you owe it to them to do something meaningful...”
(the flunky was now doing victory laps and crowing as Alyce grabbed the woman's still scalding Americano with soy foam and poured it over the back of her head. The woman began screaming loudly...)
“...and you'd really be PERFECT for the main character in our vampire movie. So much better exposure than playing some sort of Dungeons and Dragons thing with a bunch of charisma-less nerds...
(Alyce flipped the bitch onto her back and stuffed the now wadded up contract into the woman's screaming mouth. The flunky began to masturbate on his beaten former boss.)
Suddenly a smile crossed Alyce's face, for the first time since the meeting happened.
“...I'm sorry, is there a problem,” Michelle whatshername asked.
She pointed at Alyce's hand and Alyce realized she had wadded up the contract the woman had handed her earlier.
“No, it's fine,” Alyce lied, “I...was uh...paying attention to your assistant...he made a funny face.”
The woman stared daggers at the man who in turn stared at Alyce like a man whose been shot by a friend.
Michelle spoke quickly, “Yes well Brad can be...funny...but he usually doesn't interrupt important business, I am sure he can get another copy of the contract...”
Alyce held up her hand and restrained herself from punching the woman in the face.
“There's no need,” Alyce replied, “when your studio called me, I assumed I would be shown something novel, something intelligent. But what you have described to me is crap...sheer crap. It's badly written Dracula with me in the Van Helsing role. Buffy, anyone? I don't know how your studio has managed to stay in business for so long with dreck such as this but frankly, I want no part in it. Say what you will about that 'Dungeans and Dragons thing I do with a bunch of charisma-less nerds' but at least they try to be original or at the very least passionate. I'm sure the closest you come to fashion is getting fucked on your hands and knees by some muscle bound studmuffin because you don't have time for a relationship! Fuck you very much.”
Alyce turned and walked out of the coffee shop slamming the door open with unnecessary force. She made it outside and was joined at the last minute by MDK. He was about to fall over as he was lauging hysterically and attempting to keep up with her.
“Dear God,” he managed as she strutted away “Did you see the look her assistant gave you when you rolled him under the bus? And that pompous potato-woman, I've never seen you savage ANYONE like that before! Forget the movie, film that!”
“Do you want me to apologize, Danny,” Alyce asked fuming as she made it to his limo. She climbed in the back and he joined her.
“Fuck no,” he responded, “she's a fucking potato with dreams of glory. She deserves what she got and I am pretty sure her assistant sleeps in a trunk wearing a gimp mask.”
She smiled in spite of herself, the image giving her a giggle.
“I pictured beating the lady up, it's the only way I could fake it through the meeting,” she said, “for some reason I pictured him jerking off on her after I finished.”
MDK guffawed with laughter screaming, “He's TOTALLY the type.” Soon he managed to rein in his mirth.
There was a long silence.
“So, not movie for you, then,” he asked.
“Fuck no,” she replied, “you know if it was a story I liked or a character I believed in, I'd do it. But I believe in what we have built here and I believe it is in us to be the greatest force in the WGWF today or ever...I'll be damned if I give that up for anything. Now, let's get to the gym. We have work to do.”
The limo pulled out onto the LA freeway as the Mad Queen and her Mad King prepared to take war to the WGWF.
Welcome to War
Alyce sits in a stone throne and she stares into the camera. A smile on her face and raw anger shines in her eyes.
“Before I get to our opponents this week let me deal with a sniveling little worm named Tristan Slater. Tristan, congratulations. You escaped with your title. Notice the word I use is 'escaped'. Not retained. You didn't retain it because you didn't pin me. Pure and simple. Now, I know you are gonna go on and on about how a two on one match works, but you didn't pin me. You have...NEVER pinned me. Not once. I honestly don't think you can. But then again, that's your MO isn't it. You couldn't pin MDK either, so you pinned Cable. When you are outgunned, your go to is to take out the weakest link and escape. Mark my words, Slater, sooner or later, you and I will be in a ring again and I will make DAMN sure that you can't get to a weaker link and when you've tried and failed to pin me for the 92nd time, I am going to lay you out, I'm going to pin you and take your oh so precious title and you can crawl off and cradle your poor broken manhood.
Now, with that out of my system, let's move on to our opponents this week. Let's go to the difficult one first and in this combination, that would be you Cable. Cable, let me ask you something,...are you sick of me kicking your ass yet? Because I almost am. I mean, you went from being the guy I couldn't beat to the guy who couldn't win. I warned you. I warned you oh so many weeks ago that sooner or later, I would have your number and your size wouldn't save you. Welcome to my prediction fulfilled. Frankly, you have reached a point where you are nothing but a bitch and a half assed obstacle. What happened to you? I mean other than you being used as the easy link in the chain by Tristan Slater, your supposed friend? When did you lose your edge?
You know what? It doesn't really matter. Even if you were the bad old Cable from the monster days, you STILL wouldn't be enough to carry Borden's ancient ass into battle. How about you just drag a dead body to the ring with you. At least then you can hit someone with the coffin and do some damage. I mean, I have MDK in my corner a LEGENDARY bad ass and one with an impressive history of not getting beaten by chumps. And let me make this clear. Both of you ARE chumps.
And that brings me to the chumpiest chump that ever chumped a chump...Terry Fuckin' Borden. Borden, I damn near killed you the first time I got you in a ring...and I made you pay for stepping into my world the second time I encountered you. Do you REALLY think that you are going to fare any better this time?
Vegas just called, You are the odds on favorite to lose this match. Yup, you are a Tristan Slater wet dream, a weak link in a multi-person match. Borden I am sure you were a good idea once...But the name Borden hasn't been relevant for a while and I don't care how you lucked into a short ass title run. They call such things flukes and it hastily corrected itself. Like a hiccup. Here and now, well the only relevancy you had was your closeness to Tristan Slater and I used you to hurt the man...you know, the way he tried to use me to hurt MDK. Since then you have attempted to hang around but you aren't exactly awash in 'W's. How Cable wound up with you for a partner I don't know but he is probably on the phone to the personnel office as we speak trying to find a replacement. Pathetic.
This week, you are a couple of chipmunks walking into a buzz saw because I have a bit of a mad on. I have decided that I have been too nice. It won't happen again. From here on out, the Royal Family declares WAR on the WGWF and if you schlubs want to survive you can join the best or die like the rest. The war starts this week as we tear you two limb from limb. We are going to do our best to retire you two and destroy the ring and maybe even the building.
It's about to get dangerous on the WGWF roster because if you aren't one of us, you are wearing a target! So, put on your big boy Underoos and step right the hell up because the Mad King and I are lighting a powder keg under this place and if you aren't with us...then you are part of the wreckage.
So step up boys, there is about to be a fight for the soul of the WGWF and you are about to become examples. Welcome to Wonderland boys...there's a war on and you are on the losing side."