Post by Everybody Hates Jenny Myst on Oct 19, 2023 2:38:59 GMT -5
Goddamn it was hot out.
It was supposed to be October! It’s legging and plaid and pumpkin spice lattes, but here she was standing in the dispensary line on a damn near one hundred degree day, waiting for her turn like an Oliver Twist orphan. All she could think about was Amber Mansley’s face, and how she was handling this heat! She wears so much makeup it should say ‘Made in China’ on her face, if she is out-and-about in Miami she has to be looking pretty melted-action-figure-ish by now! She had spent a good amount of time with Amber of the course of the last few months, and even though Jenny did all the heavy lifting, Amber reaped the benefits of being 2-0 as a “team”. Her and Amber had been vastly different from the jump, besides being blond they were polar opposites of each other. Jenny dressed for comfort, both in and out of the ring, whereas Amber is absolutely starving for attention. Hell, she even rolled up to McDonald’s all dolled up. Jenny was just there, minding her own business, and here she comes lumbering in with her Peyton Manning forehead and five dollar press on nails…….
The line began moving, and her Converse shuffled on the sidewalk below.
She also thought about Kim Pain, and which bowling alley bar she was loitering at. Kim Pain, lookin’ like a pug signed up for dollar shave club. Her tank tops and ripped jeans, doing shots and starting fights with Gen-Zers when she refused to pay her tab and they called her ‘Karen’. Her laugh, raspy from cigarettes, echoing down the alleys as she stumbled to the cab that would take her to whatever roadside motel she was staying at. If daddy issues had a face. Poor thing. That belt meant so much to her too, and she worked so long and so hard to get it. Life isn’t always fair, and Jenny would make sure that Kim learned her lesson the hard way. Sometimes, when you really love something, you have to let it go. It’s part of the growth process. The way Jenny looked at it, she was doing her a favor.
The line was progressing well now. Jenny was parched, she needed something to drink desperately, but wasn’t going to get out of a line she waited to long in! This was important, or so she was told! She wiped the sweat off her brow as she observed the landscape around her. She was a Vegas girl, through and through, and really didn’t care much for Miami. Way she saw it, Miami is the tip of America's dick. People think Miami is a lush tropical paradise but it’s really a high-rise, concrete, ugly urban sprawl shit hole. It shocked her how much cleaner the streets were in Vegas, too. Miami was all sports cars, sunglasses, spray tans, ab muscles, skimpy bikinis and billboards you need the SAP channel to read. A giant shopping mall for upper class Brazilians.
As the line was getting closer and closer to the front, her thoughts wandered back to Kim Pain again.
She was the Television Champion–for now–and the female face of this four lettered nut house. The Television Champion is supposed to have intrigue, appeal, mystery, spunk! They’re not supposed to look like Willem Dafoe in drag.
Kim looks about as feminine as Randy Couture. Jenny guessed that everyone had their tastes. To some, Kim probably represented the trailer park Mariah Carey. She’ll be a drywaller's trophy wife one day!
On second thought, Riddle stuck his dick in—--nevermind.
“How can we help you, mam?”
The voice broke her out of her thought process. It was her turn. Wow, time flies when you’re mind-roasting nobodies.
“Uh—yeah, I’m here for the cup.”
The worker, clearly annoyed from the long lines in the oppressive heat, wiped their brow and gave Jenny a scowling look.
“The what?”
“The cup! The Cannabis Cup! My employer told me I was coming to Miami for the Cannabis Cup and I googled ‘Cannabis Cup, Miami’ and you guys came up! And so….yeah, I am here for the cup!”
The dispensary worker didn’t look amused, but figured the girl was a user who was not in her right mind, so they decided to just go about business as usual.
“The strands and flavors are on the menu to your right. Please let me know what kind and how much you would like so I can get it pack—-”
“..........so which of these come in a cup? How much fits in a cup?”
“None of them come in a cup!”
The worker's voice was a bit snippy, unintentionally. It was a long day, and they were getting ready to close.
“Please….miss….just tell me which one you want……”
“........the one that comes in the cup……..”
“DAMNIT!” The worker cursed under their breath. He looked at their co-worker. “Do we have any cups?”
“Like, water cups?”
“Cups. Any cups. Just give me a cup so I can get this crazy broad out of my line!”
Jenny waited patiently, a big smile on her face. She was going to get her Cannabis Cup!
When the worker appeared with a small, clear water cup, they set it down rather forcefully on the table. Their eyes filled with rage when, sitting on the counter, was a cup.
“You—you had a cup this entire time?”
Jenny giggled, sheepishly rubbing her knees together and looking down before back up at the worker.
“Well, I was told I was coming for the Cannabis Cup. Your name says Trulieve Cannabis, not Trulieve Cupping! I figured I’d be nice and bring one and—-”
*sigh*
“Are you done?”
She shook the cup, emphasizing it was empty.
*another sigh*
(Through grit teeth) “What would you like……”
“Whoa………like……..bruh………I totes know you!”
Jenny turned her head to see a tall, skinny kid with long hair under a beanie cap. HOW THE FUCK WAS HE WEARING A BEANIE IN THIS HEAT—
“You’re that chick from TV……..a…..a…..”
He snaps his fingers, but he’s high so it’s in slow motion.
“.......wrestling. You’re that wrestler!”
Jenny giggles. “I am glad you recognize me from TV! I must have had quite the impression on you.”
A few people in line behind them begin to huff.
“Well, funny you’d say that—---”
She cuts off and he stands there and she makes a circular motion with her hand……
“Huh?”
“Name?”
“Chad.”
“......Funny you say that, Chad. I actually have a match for the TELEVISION Title this weekend at the Cannabis Cup!”
He nasal laughs. It's disgusting.
“Rad! Yeah, I knew….my friends were gonna get high and watch it!”
“Well…sounds like you’ve got the first part covered. Do you even know who I am facing?”
“Mam—please, we have a line—”
Jenny turned her head to see a tall, skinny kid with long hair under a beanie cap. HOW THE FUCK WAS HE WEARING A BEANIE IN THIS HEAT—
“You’re that chick from TV……..a…..a…..”
He snaps his fingers, but he’s high so it’s in slow motion.
“.......wrestling. You’re that wrestler!”
Jenny giggles. “I am glad you recognize me from TV! I must have had quite the impression on you.”
A few people in line behind them begin to huff.
“Well, funny you’d say that—---”
She cuts off and he stands there and she makes a circular motion with her hand……
“Huh?”
“Name?”
“Chad.”
“......Funny you say that, Chad. I actually have a match for the TELEVISION Title this weekend at the Cannabis Cup!”
He nasal laughs. It's disgusting.
“Rad! Yeah, I knew….my friends were gonna get high and watch it!”
“Well…sounds like you’ve got the first part covered. Do you even know who I am facing?”
“Mam—please, we have a line—”
Jenny skips away with her now full cup. Chad had helped her to pick out the “most rad shit”, and like a kid leaving the ice cream truck she was filled with jubilance.
She turned the corner and smiled again as she saw the wreckage. An old, beat up semi had crashed into a yellow-orange sports car. Ambulances and police were on the scene. She had cut their brakes after they almost hit her at a crosswalk an hour prior.
Instagram, shocker.
It was nothing personal, she was just done putting up with amber colored bullshit.
She turned the corner and smiled again as she saw the wreckage. An old, beat up semi had crashed into a yellow-orange sports car. Ambulances and police were on the scene. She had cut their brakes after they almost hit her at a crosswalk an hour prior.
Instagram, shocker.
It was nothing personal, she was just done putting up with amber colored bullshit.
“It’s all fun and games until somebody gets hurt, then it's a Jenny Myst match! Your highness of violence is back again folks, for another WGWF spectacular! This time, it's a ladder match! Oh, the symbolism! The climb to the top, three women who are different in every way, shape, and form, battling to grab the shiny object off the bungee cord to cement her place in this company’s illustrious history.
So who do we have? The courageous cougar and the walking stereotype. THIS is who I have to go through? The little engine that could and the reason why blonde jokes still exist. It was a great journey, Kim, and I followed it like my favorite trash TV show. Getting your ass kicked at every turn, never being able to get over that Sonya Benson sized hump, everyone counting you out, calling you a failure………..
Then, voila!
You did it! You slayed the beast, you conquered your demons, you beat your nemesis. I would say congrats, Kim, but the truth is I am not happy for you. I am not happy that you put in all that work just to get past the first level and now you get to tumble tits first into the real game–and let me tell you these settings aren’t on ‘beginner’. Sure, you’ve been around the block, you’ve been in the business for a long time, but when your crowning achievement is beating Sonya Benson after 47 tries, you are a lot closer to ‘jobber’ than you are to ‘superstar’. I have stood toe-to-toe with LEGENDS in this business, legends INCLUDING our Boss (who I am undefeated against I may add), and you’re flaunting the fact you went undefeated in the Sam’s Cola of wrestling federations, and haven’t WANTED to compete for titles in thirteen fucking years but oooohhhhhhh booyyyyyyyy here goes Kim putting her heart and soul into winning a belt……….
Color me confused…….
Spit or swallow already, for fucks sake.
But it’s fine, because I am going to take that burden off your shoulders. This belt matters here. It makes or breaks careers here. I won this title a record three times in a fed that treated their Television Title like a fisher price plastic replica…….and I made it fucking relevant EVERY SINGLE TIME. Hell, the TV title was hotter than their top title for a while, and now that I am gone, it’s back to being a fucking joke. I am a trend-setter, a game-changer, a walking-fucking-nightmare.
You can’t beat me, Kim. You can’t and you haven’t. You had your chance. Your opportunity to silence me was right there for the taking, but you did what you always do and you fumbled the pass. You can cry until the cows come home that Amber cost you the match but reality check you dumb bitch, she hit ME with YOUR belt. Why? Because even her little rock brain was able to process the fact that I am the true threat here. I am the one that needs to be taken out. All she did was piss me off, which makes it so much worse for you.
And Amber, I didn’t expect you to be this easy (how many times has she heard that?!). I expected you to push back a little, to give me some fucking resistence….but you just laid back like the pillow princess you are and took it. I mean, you look like you chew water, am I really that surprised? You’re the bitchy Cheerleader who is dating the Quarterback in every 90's high school movie, you’re a walking cliche. I literally gave you the blueprint of how to be prepared to face me, and you acted like it was all a waste of your time. Eye rolls, sighs, hastily agreeing to go along with it. You definitely got the Stupid Spoiled Whore Video Playset when you were 12. You look like the type of dumb bitch to verbalize "Hashtag Lifegoals" and tell people you're an "Aspiring YouTube influencer". Your clothing says “Spoiled” but everything else says cum dumpster. I am supposed to take you seriously? Please. You're a begging, pleading gnat. You need the attention, the spotlight, the eyes on you. You need the validation of others because you don’t believe enough in yourself. You don’t take this as seriously as I do, and that’s why you’ve never been anything more than a meandering mid-carder, stuck between your ability and people’s inflated opinion of your ability.
I am going to win that title. I am going to climb that ladder and take my rightful place as the top bitch in WGWF.
Your Highness Has Spoken.”
And Amber, I didn’t expect you to be this easy (how many times has she heard that?!). I expected you to push back a little, to give me some fucking resistence….but you just laid back like the pillow princess you are and took it. I mean, you look like you chew water, am I really that surprised? You’re the bitchy Cheerleader who is dating the Quarterback in every 90's high school movie, you’re a walking cliche. I literally gave you the blueprint of how to be prepared to face me, and you acted like it was all a waste of your time. Eye rolls, sighs, hastily agreeing to go along with it. You definitely got the Stupid Spoiled Whore Video Playset when you were 12. You look like the type of dumb bitch to verbalize "Hashtag Lifegoals" and tell people you're an "Aspiring YouTube influencer". Your clothing says “Spoiled” but everything else says cum dumpster. I am supposed to take you seriously? Please. You're a begging, pleading gnat. You need the attention, the spotlight, the eyes on you. You need the validation of others because you don’t believe enough in yourself. You don’t take this as seriously as I do, and that’s why you’ve never been anything more than a meandering mid-carder, stuck between your ability and people’s inflated opinion of your ability.
I am going to win that title. I am going to climb that ladder and take my rightful place as the top bitch in WGWF.
Your Highness Has Spoken.”