IAMTHESTRIPCLUB
Dec 12, 2022 21:31:47 GMT -5
Chris Page and "The Peoples GOAT" James Raven like this
Post by Atara Raven on Dec 12, 2022 21:31:47 GMT -5
![](https://i.imgur.com/AqeEAdK.png)
She hated Vegas.
Atara hated Vegas in all the ways she hated the British Museum, cats, and wearing socks in bed. The way she hated wearing socks on the furniture, socks in crocs, pretty much socks in general. Effin feet condoms that worked in reverse by keeping the bacteria and all the filth you wanted out, in. Vegas was just a hot and sweaty foot condom, the Magnum XXL you bragged about needing knowing full well you were a J. Mont micro dick lying son of a bitch. Overrated and built on the backs of women and crime. Like everything in America, it was a stolen and cheap copy of an idea.
Mostly however, Atara hated Vegas because it wasn't home, because Vegas kept James away from home. Kept James away from her and Ismini. Atara and daughter were home now and he was away in Vegas working a job he didn't need. He was creating opportunities for a roster that spat in his face. He was making memories and ushering along career milestones for a group of trash ass braggarts who wouldn't give him a single credit. He was losing time with her and the baby so fucking leeches like This Is Awesome and the Big Ticket could say they had their Magnum XXL on but….
…..That's Vegas baby. A realm of predators targeting the addictive and hedonistic nature of people and her husband's addiction was the propensity to be over generous and willing to give back to a brand and a business that shit on him whenever it got the first chance.
Why?
Because he was the GOAT. He was the Roman empire that made the Caesar Palace. He was France, Egypt, hell even the New York for Vegas to get it's copy cat fucking monuments. He was the attraction that made it a tourist destination. It was his show that made the gate. It was Chris Page's tables that bleed the pockets and it was Candice running the floor making sure the cycle kept cycling. Absolutely none of these assholes were needed and the amount of disrespect being thrown by the roster had pulled on Atara's last nerve.
She hated Vegas. She hated Vegas because Atara had built Vegas. Candice, the ever masterful sculptor she was, of course had made The Velvet Rabbit. It was every bit Candice's own imagination given tangible form, her child, her own version of Galateam. Like Pygmalion, Candice would need her own Aphrodite to breathe life and vitality into her passion project. Mrs. Page had done exactly that about a year ago today. Just like the story, from the waters of the Aegean, the Incarnation of Aphrodite rose. Atara Raven took Stage 1 and turned it into her own Olympus. Elevated above the mortal masses that had come to worship, her cult assembled and the Velvet Rabbit turned from nightclub to New York's own Acrocorinth.
Centurion, Chris Page, James Raven, Thaddeus Dukes, Sebastian Everett Bryce, Betsy Granger, Ruby Malone, and more whad came. Multiple companies, legends and rising legends, all gathered in one place not for competition…but to see the Goddess. It was very much the birth of this world. Chris would sit with Candice that night and later on the Goddess would take the stage again and again the world would assemble for the Goddess. For the temple Candice had built, to fend off those who would destroy this place. New York wasn't big enough for the world.
Candice, Chris, James, Atara.
Vegas
The Velvet Rabbit. The WGWF. As far as Atara was concerned she had breathed life into it all. It was her temple and whether she was in attendance or not it should have been treated as such. This place had risen without a bunch of grateful shits and it would survive without ungrateful shits. Benson, Punisher, J. Mont, every single beneficiary of her and the others' work, they needed to be reminded not every one of them was tied behind a desk. They needed to be reminded that to spit in the face of a Goddess was to incur that Goddess's wrath.
This was all made possible by a strip club.
Atty Was The Strip Club.
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How they knew was a mystery. With no statement, announcement, or press release of any kind to say, whose to say how the globe knew exactly when to pause the humdrum of their daily lives to pick up a device and stare. To turn on a television or click a link to anxiously wait to hear and see the world's favorite Grecian. A question for another day, the important thing was they knew and when it seemed she had beckoned for their attentive gaze they obeyed.
They waited in anticipation, staring into the void of their screens, for the sound of her honeyed rasp. Waiting for two little words synonymous to Aphrodite Incarnate and her alone and in reward for their patience WGWF fans the world over would have it.
Atara's voice poured liked honey and in perfect synchronicity with her words technology sprung to life and those devices came to life by power of light and color.
"Hello Doves" she said as the scene faded in. Captivating as fuck Aegean blue eyes instantly took the focus and rooted her audience further in place entranced as if by the magic of Aphrodite's girdle. Even though they peered right back at the viewer there was a glint in them that suggested she was looking at one particular individual and that individual only.
"Hello Zara." Lips parted again and her siren song echoed through speakers addressing her target.
"Congratulations is in order I believe, is it not?" Atara posed with a wry grin. "For last week's victory of course," she finished in the same dry satirical tone.
"It is always a boon to come into your next contest after a victory. Lifted spirits like wind beneath the wings to carry you forward. It's a real inspiration for confidence, swells one's bosom with all the hope and expectation of continued success," Atara would expatiate before pausing to tilt her head and look into her flock's eyes with a darkening gaze.
"I love to see it but I'm going to love even more descending upon you like harpy and ripping those wings from your back. Casting you down to earth and tearing into you like a horse of Glaukus before covering you like the shirt of Nessus and snuffing out this miniscule modicum of you bought for yourself at the hands of a competitor you had no business in the ring!" Her tone had become more venomous and the words snapped off Atara's like a crack of whip intent on cutting flesh.
"That's not some empty edgelord's threat Zara. Not some contrarism bullshit being spouted by a dumb fucking death match blood hound. I am always the laughter loving and fun seeking Atara these people, my people, have come to love but things have changed drastically since I last spoke. I have had to put that Atty on the shelf and unfortunately, like my country's myths go, it's the innocent young girl that has to pay the price for some sack swinging piss baby who needed some attention's hubris." Atara explained holding back none of her aggravation and resentment of the countless insults she had seen thrown at her husband.
"I said I would stand back and help WGWF however James needed me to. I wouldn't pop squat center ring and piss on the logo marking it has mine, because Zara it very much is, but I never said I would stand back and let this roster pop off at the mouth like fucking Twitter keyboard warriors at me and mine and you're not exactly innocent sweetheart," the Grecian spewed further.
"You tour the independent scene like most of us have, you've signed professional contracts, you've won titles, and you come out here playing the sheepish doe eyed bitch with your 'I just want to prove I belong here' bullshit!"
"Yeah sweety, you belong here. The independent circuit was the trail period and the contract Chris gave you, the booking my husband made for you was the validation and to say otherwise is to question Chris and James' business and wrestling acumen so fuck outta here with the pity me because I'm new act. The mere suggestion they don't know what their doing is pissing me off and adding on top of every other malaka trying to swallow James dick, I don't think I would really care if you actually were the oblivious dumbass that made you sound like!" Appearing every bit as irate as she said, Atara was fully animated talking with head and gestures as wild and heated as her words.
"Keep that same intention you had with Cholo Zara, please do and no I shouldn't have to explain what I mean as much as you had to make the intention clear then.
Ride that momentum wave from last week's win and please for the love god but into the 'Atty is in a down moment right now.' because if you think wins and losses affect my mindset, let me shatter that notion like I'm going to shatter your skull with a Judgment of Paris. My match catalog is the thing Peter Vaughn tribute wanks to at night. It includes names Joe Montouri pisses himself to @ in his tweets for a notion of a rub."
"I've obtained enough gold that Sonya Benson couldn't even generate enough heat to smelt it down into a gold star achievement badge for trying to ride Benson's coattails for exposure. Of course, winner winner chicken dinner the prize goes to The Punisher. Suck my asshole bitch, enjoy that suspension!"
"I don't swing on a momentum meter Zara, Atty swings her massive lady dick in whatever direction she wants, whenever she wants, in whatever intensity she wants and when she decides to turn it to eleven, that dumb rookie that underestimated her gets effin teabagged and embarrassed on live television!"
"LIVE TELEVISION! Not some house show Dark bullshit effin up preliminary pansies. You malakas have put your fucking feet condoms on the wrong Greek bitches couch and she's coming to five finger the face of everybody."
"Monday on Break. Zara Ivory is the first example."
"Good-bye Doves."