Post by Everybody Hates Jenny Myst on Mar 30, 2024 21:34:19 GMT -5
OOC: PETER AND I INITIALLY AGREED TO DO A LONGER WORD COUNT THAN THE ASSIGNED 2K. RAN IT BY GOTH, ALL IS GOOD. I REALLY GOT INTO THIS STORY, SO I HOPE YOU ALL LIKE IT.
I AM ON FAMILY VACATION. BETWEEN WRITING THE SHOWS/CARD FOR MY FED AND HAVING TO DO THIS, I HAVEN'T HAD A LOT OF TIME. THIS IS GOING TO BE FAR FROM MY BEST WORK. I APOLOGIZE PETER, AND I WOULD LOVE TO FACE OFF AGAIN WHEN I CAN BE AT FULL STRENGTH.
THAT BEING SAID:
Jenny had always been one to seek out the peculiar, the outlandish, and the bizarre. So, when she decided to embark on a new adventure as a member of a crew that specialized in cleaning up random and ridiculous messes, it seemed like the perfect fit for her eccentric tastes.
Jenny never thought her life would take such a bizarre turn, however, but as she stood outside the old, dilapidated building, she knew there was no turning back. The sign above the entrance read "Odd Jobs Cleaning Crew," and the thought of joining a team of janitors who specialized in cleaning up the most random and ridiculous messes both intrigued and terrified her.
With a deep breath, Jenny pushed open the creaky door and stepped inside. The interior was cluttered with cleaning supplies and mops leaning against the walls. The smell of disinfectant hung thick in the air, mixing with the faint odor of something unidentifiable.
The first day on the job found Jenny donning a pair of neon yellow coveralls, a cap pulled low over her eyes, and a pair of heavy-duty gloves. She strode into the headquarters of the crew with a sense of eager anticipation, ready to face whatever strange challenges awaited her.
The crew was a motley assortment of individuals, each with their own unique quirks and skills. Jenny quickly found her place among them, trading stories of their most outrageous clean-up jobs and sharing laughs over the absurdity of their work.
Stories ranging from scrubbing graffiti off a giant rubber duck or vacuuming up glitter from a spaceship-themed party gone awry to cleaning up glitter explosions in a unicorn stable to scrubbing spaghetti off the ceiling of a pasta-themed restaurant to accidentally activating a malfunctioning robot vacuum that goes on a rampage or mistaking a tub of slime for cleaning solution. All of these stories made her feel like she had, in fact, made the correct decision.
The laboratory buzzed with activity as Jenny stepped through the double doors. Her tiny frame contrasted with the towering machines and humming computers. People nodded in her direction, acknowledging her presence, but she barely noticed. Her eyes scanned the room, looking for one person in particular.
It was during one particularly messy assignment at a local science lab that Jenny first encountered Peter, a fellow janitor known amongst the crew as the "Trash Man." Peter was a tall, lanky man with a perpetual grin on his face and a twinkle in his eye that hinted at hidden depths.
Peter shuffled in the corner, a mop in hand and a worn cap perched on his head. Jenny's gaze lingered on him longer than necessary. There was something about this Peter, the “Trash Man”, she couldn't quite put her finger on. His eyes held a glint of mystery, of secrets buried deep within.
Jenny's tasks for the day came rushing back to her — preparations for the upcoming championship, interviews to be filmed, and a whole list of obligations she had to fulfill. But none of that seemed important at that moment. Peter was like a puzzle waiting to be solved in a room full of noise and chaos.
SHE ADORED PUZZLES.
As Jenny navigated her way through intricate set pieces and prop tables, she felt Peter's presence like a whisper at the edge of her consciousness. It was unsettling yet enticing, pulling her in like a moth to a flame.
Peter glanced up from his work, the mop pausing in midair. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment, and Jenny could have sworn she saw a flicker of recognition in his gaze. But before she could dwell on it, he went back to his cleaning, a small smile playing on his lips.
Jenny found herself drawn to Peter, the enigma in the corner. She wanted to know more about him, to unravel the layers of mystery he seemed to shroud himself in. With a determined set to her jaw, she made her way over to him.
The room grew silent as Jenny approached Peter, the clatter of machinery fading into the background. She stood before him, her presence commanding attention despite her petite stature. Peter looked up, surprise flashing across his face before a mask of neutrality settled back in place.
Jenny extended her hand in greeting, a faint smile playing on her lips. Peter's eyes flicked from her face to her outstretched hand before tentatively reaching out to shake it. Their hands met, a spark igniting between them, small yet undeniable.
Peter's touch sent shivers down Jenny's spine, a sensation she couldn't quite place. It was as if a magnetic pull drew her closer to him, urging her to delve deeper into the mystery that surrounded him. She knew then that her curiosity would not be easily satiated.
In that moment, their worlds collided — Jenny, the glamorous champion with the weight of the world on her shoulders, and Peter, the humble janitor who seemed to hold the key to a secret she had yet to uncover. It was a meeting of two souls destined to intertwine in ways neither could predict.
"You must be Jenny," he exclaimed, extending a hand. "I'm Peter, the head janitor here. Welcome to the crew!"
Jenny shook his hand, feeling a jolt of energy pass through her. There was something about Peter that drew her in, something mysterious beneath his cheerful demeanor.
Peter led Jenny through the winding corridors of the building, pointing out different areas where the crew had tackled some of their most challenging clean-up jobs. From a ball pit filled with slime to a room covered in feathers from a spontaneous pillow fight, Jenny couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. She felt…….home.
The first task Peter assigned Jenny was to clean up a room that had been filled with confetti and glitter after a wild party the night before. Armed with a broom and a dustpan, Jenny set to work, humming to herself as she swept up the shimmering mess.
Peter watched her work, a grin spreading across his face. "You've got potential, Jenny," he said. "I can tell you're a natural at this."
Jenny felt a rush of pride at his words, grateful for the opportunity to prove herself in this strange new world of janitorial work. As she worked alongside Peter, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to him than met the eye.
Days turned into weeks, and Jenny found herself immersed in her new role as a member of the Odd Jobs Cleaning Crew. From cleaning up spilled paint in an art gallery to scrubbing mud off a vintage car, she embraced each new challenge with determination and a touch of humor.
But as she spent more time with Peter, Jenny began to notice small quirks about him that set him apart from the rest of the crew. The way he always seemed to know just what to say to make her laugh, or the mischievous glint in his eyes when he came up with a new plan for tackling a messy job.
As the day wore on, Jenny found herself stealing glances at Peter whenever she could. He moved with a quiet grace, his every action deliberate yet unassuming. There was a rawness to him that intrigued her, a vulnerability she sensed beneath his stoic exterior.
Peter, on the other hand, seemed content to continue his work in silence, his focus unwavering even as Jenny's presence lingered in the air around him. He was a man of few words, his expressions speaking volumes where words failed him.
The hours slipped by unnoticed, the sun sinking lower in the sky as the lab grew dimmer. Jenny's obligations tugged at her consciousness, reminding her of the world beyond the walls of the laboratory. But part of her longed to stay, to unravel the mystery of Peter Vaughn, the Trash Man.
One day, as they were cleaning up a room filled with overturned tables and broken glass, Jenny finally mustered the courage to ask Peter about his past. "So, Peter, what brought you to the Odd Jobs Cleaning Crew?" she inquired, her voice hesitant.
Peter paused in his sweeping, his expression unreadable. "Let's just say I have a knack for cleaning up messes," he replied cryptically, before flashing her a grin and returning to his work.
Jenny couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Peter's story than he was letting on. But as the days passed and the two of them continued to work side by side, she found herself growing closer to him, drawn in by his infectious laughter and unwavering optimism.
One night, after a particularly long day of cleaning up after a disastrous food fight in a gourmet restaurant, Jenny and Peter sat together in the break room, savoring a moment of peace amidst the chaos. The dim light cast shadows across Peter's face, and Jenny found herself studying him intently.
"There's something about you, Peter," she began, her words hesitant. "Something that sets you apart from everyone else I've ever met."
Peter looked at her, his gaze piercing. "And what might that be, Jenny?"
Jenny hesitated, unsure of how to put her feelings into words. "I don't know... it's like... you have this aura of mystery around you. Like there's a whole other side to you that I can't quite see."
Peter's eyes softened, and he reached out to gently touch her hand. "Jenny, there's something I need to tell you," he began, his voice serious.
Jenny's heart raced as she waited for Peter to speak, her mind buzzing with a thousand questions. What could he possibly have to confess?
"I'm not just a janitor, Jenny," Peter finally said, his words slow and deliberate. "I'm a collector of lost dreams, a keeper of forgotten hopes."
Jenny's eyes widened in surprise, a chill running down her spine. "What do you mean, Peter? What are you talking about?"
Peter took a deep breath, his expression pained. "I... I have a gift, Jenny. I have the ability to take on the dreams and aspirations of others, to carry their burdens as my own."
Jenny felt a wave of confusion wash over her. "But why, Peter? Why would you do such a thing?"
Peter looked down at his hands, his fingers trembling slightly. "It's a burden I bear willingly, Jenny. I take on the titles and ambitions of those who can no longer carry them, burying them deep within myself so they may rest in peace."
Jenny felt a shiver run down her spine as she realized the magnitude of Peter's confession. He was not just a janitor; he was a collector of lost souls, a guardian of unfulfilled destinies.
As the weight of Peter's revelation settled over them, Jenny couldn't help but feel a mixture of fear and fascination. She had never met anyone like Peter before, someone who carried the hopes and dreams of others within him.
"So, all this time... all these odd jobs we've been doing... it's been about more than just cleaning up messes, hasn't it?" Jenny asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Peter nodded, a sad smile tugging at his lips. "Every job we take on, every mess we clean up, it's a chance for me to honor those whose dreams were cut short before they had a chance to truly live."
Jenny felt a lump form in her throat as she thought about all the people whose dreams now rested within Peter, the weight of their unfulfilled ambitions pressing down on him.
"And what about you, Jenny?" Peter asked, his gaze searching. "What dreams do you carry within you?"
Jenny hesitated, unsure of how to answer. She had always been focused on her own aspirations, her own goals and ambitions. But now, faced with Peter and his incredible burden, she couldn't help but feel a sense of humility wash over her.
She hadn't given it too much thought. She didn't really have dreams and admirations, she kinda just went with the flow.
It got her this far.
Jenny threw off the virtual reality machine that had been covering her eyes, her heart racing with adrenaline. The digital world dissolved around her, leaving her standing in the dimly lit room of the abandoned warehouse. She knew she was taking a risk by confronting Peter Vaughn, the enigmatic janitor who had always seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Jenny's muscles tensed as she scanned the shadows, looking for any sign of movement. She could feel the weight of Peter's gaze on her, like a predator stalking its prey. Her hand instinctively reached for the brass knuckles tucked into her waistband, ready for any threat that may come her way.
She had seen the way Peter's eyes lingered on her during her matches at the WGWF arena. There was a darkness in his gaze that sent shivers down her spine, a silent threat that no one else seemed to notice. Jenny knew she had to confront him before it was too late.
In the dim light, Jenny caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of her eye. She whirled around, her heart pounding in her chest as she faced Peter Vaughn, the Trash Man. His eyes glittered with a dangerous light as he stared at her, a twisted smile playing on his lips.
Jenny took a step back, her mind racing with thoughts of escape. But she steeled herself, refusing to show fear in the face of this potential threat. She had worked too hard to become the WGWF Television Champion, and she wasn't about to let some janitor take it all away from her.
Peter's laughter echoed through the warehouse, a chilling sound that sent a shiver down Jenny's spine. She clenched her fists, her jaw set in determination as she faced off against him. She could see the madness in his eyes now, the darkness that lurked within him.
With a sudden burst of movement, Peter lunged towards Jenny, his hands reaching out to grab her. She dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding his grasp, and countered with a swift kick to his ribs. Peter stumbled back, but his laughter only grew louder, more manic.
Jenny's heart hammered in her chest as she faced off against Peter, each movement calculated and precise. She knew she had to end this confrontation quickly before it escalated further. With a fierce battle cry, she launched herself at Peter, determined to take him down once and for all.
The sound of their struggle filled the warehouse, a symphony of grunts and thuds as they clashed. Jenny could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins, her body moving on pure instinct as she fought against the man who threatened everything she had worked for.
Peter's eerie laughter turned into guttural moans of pain as Jenny landed blow after blow, her fists a blur of motion. She could see the shock and confusion in his eyes, the realization dawning on him that he had underestimated her.
With a final, devastating punch, Jenny sent Peter crashing to the ground, his body limp and unmoving. She stood over him, panting and victorious, her chest heaving with exertion. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the sound of her ragged breaths.
Jenny's hands trembled as she reached for her phone, dialing the number that would bring the authorities to this abandoned warehouse. She knew she had taken a risk by confronting Peter Vaughn, but she couldn't let him continue to threaten her livelihood.
As she waited for the police to arrive, Jenny's mind raced with thoughts of what could have been. She had always been a fighter, a survivor, but this encounter with Peter had shaken her to the core. She knew she would never be the same again.
The sound of sirens pierced the air, drawing closer and closer to the warehouse. Jenny watched as the police cars pulled up outside, their lights flashing in the darkness. She felt a sense of relief wash over her, knowing that Peter would finally be held accountable for his actions.
The officers entered the warehouse, their voices a low murmur as they surveyed the scene before them. Jenny recounted the events that had led her to this moment, the confrontation with Peter "The Trash Man" that had changed everything.
With a sense of finality, Jenny watched as the officers handcuffed Peter and led him away, his head hung low in defeat. She knew that this chapter of her life was coming to a close, but she also knew that a new one was just beginning.
As she stepped out of the warehouse into the cool night air, Jenny felt a weight lift off her shoulders. She had faced her fears, confronted her enemy, and emerged victorious. She knew that she was stronger now, more resilient than ever before.
And as she walked away from the warehouse, the glow of the streetlights casting long shadows behind her, Jenny knew that she was ready for whatever challenges lay ahead. She was Jenny Myst, WGWF Television Champion, and no one would ever take that title away from her again.
............She took off the VR goggles again. It had been a simulation, INSIDE a simulation.
She really needed to get out more.
"It's about time they gave me some real competition around here. It is about time I am not drowning in the quicksand cess pool of Goth and Bobby Ray Willis. It is about time they give me the credit I am due for being a champion since October, and being the set of tits keeping this sinking ship afloat.
But even in their complementary booking, they try to slap my face. Sure, Peter is a legend. Everywhere you go, any company in any state or hell even any country, you hear the name Peter Vaughn. A name that transcends wrestling itself and holds a weight heavier than the stone its etched into........
But I know why they did it. You see, if Peter is anything, he's a mark. He's a hoarder. He loves championship belts more than I love sponge cake, to the point where it is almost an obsession. They see me as a champion, sure, but they also see me as their weakest champion. It's sad but its true. They want to feed me to the Trash Man and hope the can swallows me on the way down. They know that the longer Miriam stays around my perfect waist, the longer Peter Vaughn will stay on the sidelines. He's old news, but they try to cover up his shenanigans like mainstream media does to their chosen candidate. They try to prop him up on a crutch made of glass, and make excuses when it finally shatters. They were hoping to catch me off guard, out of my element, off my game.......
......Oh how the tables have turned. WEEEEE!
Peter we teamed up before, and we won. Even though I did all of the heavy lifting, I feel like we had a connection that day. I feel like we connected on a deeper level. I feel like we understand each other. Or rather, I understand you. There is so much that you don't know about me, and so much that you purposely overlook. I don't matter to you, Peter, because you sit at the cool kids table. While you dance in the club with the Knox's and the Corey Black's and Larry Tact's, I sit in the corner by myself drawing their demise on my hand with a sharpie. I have never been included in your first class business suit, Peter, and I probably never will. I have never been good enough in your eyes.
To the Alias's and the Robert Main's and the Raion Kido's. To the Shawn Warstein's to the Vhodka Black's to the Eng-fucking-neers, I have never been looked at as "good enough." No matter how many belts I have held, no matter how many matches I have won, no matter how many War Games teams I have captained, I have never been cool enough to sit at the table with your circle.
And that's fine.
Because that table is being flipped upside down. That table is being turned on its top and its legs widdled into spikes that I drive through each and every one of your fucking black hearts........
It starts with you.
They thought they were feeding you another. They thought the run was over, the dream was dead, the streak had stopped. If I lost to a Bobby Ray or a Goth, gasps abound, upset of the century, someone get in touch with Vegas......
But if I lost my precious Miriam to Peter Vaughn? Well, that would just be another day in the office, wouldn't it?
Life goes on.
Well let me put this on the record now, and say it one more time with a little more volume for those in the cheap seats.....
I AM GOING TO BEAT PETER VAUGHN.
I am going to beat him, pin him in the center of the ring, and cement the legacy that all of you have tried so hard to not let me have. To write the story that for so long I was told could never and would never get published. Jenny Myst finally wins the big one.
I go into WrestleWars on the hottest streak of my career and you are just another bump in the road. Another obstacle on the playground, another scary sound in the night. You are another victim. This title may not mean much to any of you, but to me it means the world. To me, Miriam is my heart and soul, my pride and joy, my reason keeping me from biting that proverbial bullet. You've never given me a second look, Peter, and why would you? My entire career, to you, I've been nothing. When I pin you in the center of that ring, 1-2-3, you will have no choice but respect me. No choice but to fear me. No choice to but understand me.
I am the WGWF Television Champion, and for months I have been taking out the trash. Now, I take out The Trash Man, and give a little hope to all of those out there just like me.
Happy Easter, Peter.
May Jesus Bless Your Rotting Soul."
I AM ON FAMILY VACATION. BETWEEN WRITING THE SHOWS/CARD FOR MY FED AND HAVING TO DO THIS, I HAVEN'T HAD A LOT OF TIME. THIS IS GOING TO BE FAR FROM MY BEST WORK. I APOLOGIZE PETER, AND I WOULD LOVE TO FACE OFF AGAIN WHEN I CAN BE AT FULL STRENGTH.
THAT BEING SAID:
Jenny had always been one to seek out the peculiar, the outlandish, and the bizarre. So, when she decided to embark on a new adventure as a member of a crew that specialized in cleaning up random and ridiculous messes, it seemed like the perfect fit for her eccentric tastes.
Jenny never thought her life would take such a bizarre turn, however, but as she stood outside the old, dilapidated building, she knew there was no turning back. The sign above the entrance read "Odd Jobs Cleaning Crew," and the thought of joining a team of janitors who specialized in cleaning up the most random and ridiculous messes both intrigued and terrified her.
With a deep breath, Jenny pushed open the creaky door and stepped inside. The interior was cluttered with cleaning supplies and mops leaning against the walls. The smell of disinfectant hung thick in the air, mixing with the faint odor of something unidentifiable.
The first day on the job found Jenny donning a pair of neon yellow coveralls, a cap pulled low over her eyes, and a pair of heavy-duty gloves. She strode into the headquarters of the crew with a sense of eager anticipation, ready to face whatever strange challenges awaited her.
The crew was a motley assortment of individuals, each with their own unique quirks and skills. Jenny quickly found her place among them, trading stories of their most outrageous clean-up jobs and sharing laughs over the absurdity of their work.
Stories ranging from scrubbing graffiti off a giant rubber duck or vacuuming up glitter from a spaceship-themed party gone awry to cleaning up glitter explosions in a unicorn stable to scrubbing spaghetti off the ceiling of a pasta-themed restaurant to accidentally activating a malfunctioning robot vacuum that goes on a rampage or mistaking a tub of slime for cleaning solution. All of these stories made her feel like she had, in fact, made the correct decision.
The laboratory buzzed with activity as Jenny stepped through the double doors. Her tiny frame contrasted with the towering machines and humming computers. People nodded in her direction, acknowledging her presence, but she barely noticed. Her eyes scanned the room, looking for one person in particular.
It was during one particularly messy assignment at a local science lab that Jenny first encountered Peter, a fellow janitor known amongst the crew as the "Trash Man." Peter was a tall, lanky man with a perpetual grin on his face and a twinkle in his eye that hinted at hidden depths.
Peter shuffled in the corner, a mop in hand and a worn cap perched on his head. Jenny's gaze lingered on him longer than necessary. There was something about this Peter, the “Trash Man”, she couldn't quite put her finger on. His eyes held a glint of mystery, of secrets buried deep within.
Jenny's tasks for the day came rushing back to her — preparations for the upcoming championship, interviews to be filmed, and a whole list of obligations she had to fulfill. But none of that seemed important at that moment. Peter was like a puzzle waiting to be solved in a room full of noise and chaos.
SHE ADORED PUZZLES.
As Jenny navigated her way through intricate set pieces and prop tables, she felt Peter's presence like a whisper at the edge of her consciousness. It was unsettling yet enticing, pulling her in like a moth to a flame.
Peter glanced up from his work, the mop pausing in midair. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment, and Jenny could have sworn she saw a flicker of recognition in his gaze. But before she could dwell on it, he went back to his cleaning, a small smile playing on his lips.
Jenny found herself drawn to Peter, the enigma in the corner. She wanted to know more about him, to unravel the layers of mystery he seemed to shroud himself in. With a determined set to her jaw, she made her way over to him.
The room grew silent as Jenny approached Peter, the clatter of machinery fading into the background. She stood before him, her presence commanding attention despite her petite stature. Peter looked up, surprise flashing across his face before a mask of neutrality settled back in place.
Jenny extended her hand in greeting, a faint smile playing on her lips. Peter's eyes flicked from her face to her outstretched hand before tentatively reaching out to shake it. Their hands met, a spark igniting between them, small yet undeniable.
Peter's touch sent shivers down Jenny's spine, a sensation she couldn't quite place. It was as if a magnetic pull drew her closer to him, urging her to delve deeper into the mystery that surrounded him. She knew then that her curiosity would not be easily satiated.
In that moment, their worlds collided — Jenny, the glamorous champion with the weight of the world on her shoulders, and Peter, the humble janitor who seemed to hold the key to a secret she had yet to uncover. It was a meeting of two souls destined to intertwine in ways neither could predict.
"You must be Jenny," he exclaimed, extending a hand. "I'm Peter, the head janitor here. Welcome to the crew!"
Jenny shook his hand, feeling a jolt of energy pass through her. There was something about Peter that drew her in, something mysterious beneath his cheerful demeanor.
Peter led Jenny through the winding corridors of the building, pointing out different areas where the crew had tackled some of their most challenging clean-up jobs. From a ball pit filled with slime to a room covered in feathers from a spontaneous pillow fight, Jenny couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. She felt…….home.
The first task Peter assigned Jenny was to clean up a room that had been filled with confetti and glitter after a wild party the night before. Armed with a broom and a dustpan, Jenny set to work, humming to herself as she swept up the shimmering mess.
Peter watched her work, a grin spreading across his face. "You've got potential, Jenny," he said. "I can tell you're a natural at this."
Jenny felt a rush of pride at his words, grateful for the opportunity to prove herself in this strange new world of janitorial work. As she worked alongside Peter, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to him than met the eye.
Days turned into weeks, and Jenny found herself immersed in her new role as a member of the Odd Jobs Cleaning Crew. From cleaning up spilled paint in an art gallery to scrubbing mud off a vintage car, she embraced each new challenge with determination and a touch of humor.
But as she spent more time with Peter, Jenny began to notice small quirks about him that set him apart from the rest of the crew. The way he always seemed to know just what to say to make her laugh, or the mischievous glint in his eyes when he came up with a new plan for tackling a messy job.
As the day wore on, Jenny found herself stealing glances at Peter whenever she could. He moved with a quiet grace, his every action deliberate yet unassuming. There was a rawness to him that intrigued her, a vulnerability she sensed beneath his stoic exterior.
Peter, on the other hand, seemed content to continue his work in silence, his focus unwavering even as Jenny's presence lingered in the air around him. He was a man of few words, his expressions speaking volumes where words failed him.
The hours slipped by unnoticed, the sun sinking lower in the sky as the lab grew dimmer. Jenny's obligations tugged at her consciousness, reminding her of the world beyond the walls of the laboratory. But part of her longed to stay, to unravel the mystery of Peter Vaughn, the Trash Man.
One day, as they were cleaning up a room filled with overturned tables and broken glass, Jenny finally mustered the courage to ask Peter about his past. "So, Peter, what brought you to the Odd Jobs Cleaning Crew?" she inquired, her voice hesitant.
Peter paused in his sweeping, his expression unreadable. "Let's just say I have a knack for cleaning up messes," he replied cryptically, before flashing her a grin and returning to his work.
Jenny couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Peter's story than he was letting on. But as the days passed and the two of them continued to work side by side, she found herself growing closer to him, drawn in by his infectious laughter and unwavering optimism.
One night, after a particularly long day of cleaning up after a disastrous food fight in a gourmet restaurant, Jenny and Peter sat together in the break room, savoring a moment of peace amidst the chaos. The dim light cast shadows across Peter's face, and Jenny found herself studying him intently.
"There's something about you, Peter," she began, her words hesitant. "Something that sets you apart from everyone else I've ever met."
Peter looked at her, his gaze piercing. "And what might that be, Jenny?"
Jenny hesitated, unsure of how to put her feelings into words. "I don't know... it's like... you have this aura of mystery around you. Like there's a whole other side to you that I can't quite see."
Peter's eyes softened, and he reached out to gently touch her hand. "Jenny, there's something I need to tell you," he began, his voice serious.
Jenny's heart raced as she waited for Peter to speak, her mind buzzing with a thousand questions. What could he possibly have to confess?
"I'm not just a janitor, Jenny," Peter finally said, his words slow and deliberate. "I'm a collector of lost dreams, a keeper of forgotten hopes."
Jenny's eyes widened in surprise, a chill running down her spine. "What do you mean, Peter? What are you talking about?"
Peter took a deep breath, his expression pained. "I... I have a gift, Jenny. I have the ability to take on the dreams and aspirations of others, to carry their burdens as my own."
Jenny felt a wave of confusion wash over her. "But why, Peter? Why would you do such a thing?"
Peter looked down at his hands, his fingers trembling slightly. "It's a burden I bear willingly, Jenny. I take on the titles and ambitions of those who can no longer carry them, burying them deep within myself so they may rest in peace."
Jenny felt a shiver run down her spine as she realized the magnitude of Peter's confession. He was not just a janitor; he was a collector of lost souls, a guardian of unfulfilled destinies.
As the weight of Peter's revelation settled over them, Jenny couldn't help but feel a mixture of fear and fascination. She had never met anyone like Peter before, someone who carried the hopes and dreams of others within him.
"So, all this time... all these odd jobs we've been doing... it's been about more than just cleaning up messes, hasn't it?" Jenny asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Peter nodded, a sad smile tugging at his lips. "Every job we take on, every mess we clean up, it's a chance for me to honor those whose dreams were cut short before they had a chance to truly live."
Jenny felt a lump form in her throat as she thought about all the people whose dreams now rested within Peter, the weight of their unfulfilled ambitions pressing down on him.
"And what about you, Jenny?" Peter asked, his gaze searching. "What dreams do you carry within you?"
Jenny hesitated, unsure of how to answer. She had always been focused on her own aspirations, her own goals and ambitions. But now, faced with Peter and his incredible burden, she couldn't help but feel a sense of humility wash over her.
She hadn't given it too much thought. She didn't really have dreams and admirations, she kinda just went with the flow.
It got her this far.
Jenny threw off the virtual reality machine that had been covering her eyes, her heart racing with adrenaline. The digital world dissolved around her, leaving her standing in the dimly lit room of the abandoned warehouse. She knew she was taking a risk by confronting Peter Vaughn, the enigmatic janitor who had always seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Jenny's muscles tensed as she scanned the shadows, looking for any sign of movement. She could feel the weight of Peter's gaze on her, like a predator stalking its prey. Her hand instinctively reached for the brass knuckles tucked into her waistband, ready for any threat that may come her way.
She had seen the way Peter's eyes lingered on her during her matches at the WGWF arena. There was a darkness in his gaze that sent shivers down her spine, a silent threat that no one else seemed to notice. Jenny knew she had to confront him before it was too late.
In the dim light, Jenny caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of her eye. She whirled around, her heart pounding in her chest as she faced Peter Vaughn, the Trash Man. His eyes glittered with a dangerous light as he stared at her, a twisted smile playing on his lips.
Jenny took a step back, her mind racing with thoughts of escape. But she steeled herself, refusing to show fear in the face of this potential threat. She had worked too hard to become the WGWF Television Champion, and she wasn't about to let some janitor take it all away from her.
Peter's laughter echoed through the warehouse, a chilling sound that sent a shiver down Jenny's spine. She clenched her fists, her jaw set in determination as she faced off against him. She could see the madness in his eyes now, the darkness that lurked within him.
With a sudden burst of movement, Peter lunged towards Jenny, his hands reaching out to grab her. She dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding his grasp, and countered with a swift kick to his ribs. Peter stumbled back, but his laughter only grew louder, more manic.
Jenny's heart hammered in her chest as she faced off against Peter, each movement calculated and precise. She knew she had to end this confrontation quickly before it escalated further. With a fierce battle cry, she launched herself at Peter, determined to take him down once and for all.
The sound of their struggle filled the warehouse, a symphony of grunts and thuds as they clashed. Jenny could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins, her body moving on pure instinct as she fought against the man who threatened everything she had worked for.
Peter's eerie laughter turned into guttural moans of pain as Jenny landed blow after blow, her fists a blur of motion. She could see the shock and confusion in his eyes, the realization dawning on him that he had underestimated her.
With a final, devastating punch, Jenny sent Peter crashing to the ground, his body limp and unmoving. She stood over him, panting and victorious, her chest heaving with exertion. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the sound of her ragged breaths.
Jenny's hands trembled as she reached for her phone, dialing the number that would bring the authorities to this abandoned warehouse. She knew she had taken a risk by confronting Peter Vaughn, but she couldn't let him continue to threaten her livelihood.
As she waited for the police to arrive, Jenny's mind raced with thoughts of what could have been. She had always been a fighter, a survivor, but this encounter with Peter had shaken her to the core. She knew she would never be the same again.
The sound of sirens pierced the air, drawing closer and closer to the warehouse. Jenny watched as the police cars pulled up outside, their lights flashing in the darkness. She felt a sense of relief wash over her, knowing that Peter would finally be held accountable for his actions.
The officers entered the warehouse, their voices a low murmur as they surveyed the scene before them. Jenny recounted the events that had led her to this moment, the confrontation with Peter "The Trash Man" that had changed everything.
With a sense of finality, Jenny watched as the officers handcuffed Peter and led him away, his head hung low in defeat. She knew that this chapter of her life was coming to a close, but she also knew that a new one was just beginning.
As she stepped out of the warehouse into the cool night air, Jenny felt a weight lift off her shoulders. She had faced her fears, confronted her enemy, and emerged victorious. She knew that she was stronger now, more resilient than ever before.
And as she walked away from the warehouse, the glow of the streetlights casting long shadows behind her, Jenny knew that she was ready for whatever challenges lay ahead. She was Jenny Myst, WGWF Television Champion, and no one would ever take that title away from her again.
............She took off the VR goggles again. It had been a simulation, INSIDE a simulation.
She really needed to get out more.
"It's about time they gave me some real competition around here. It is about time I am not drowning in the quicksand cess pool of Goth and Bobby Ray Willis. It is about time they give me the credit I am due for being a champion since October, and being the set of tits keeping this sinking ship afloat.
But even in their complementary booking, they try to slap my face. Sure, Peter is a legend. Everywhere you go, any company in any state or hell even any country, you hear the name Peter Vaughn. A name that transcends wrestling itself and holds a weight heavier than the stone its etched into........
But I know why they did it. You see, if Peter is anything, he's a mark. He's a hoarder. He loves championship belts more than I love sponge cake, to the point where it is almost an obsession. They see me as a champion, sure, but they also see me as their weakest champion. It's sad but its true. They want to feed me to the Trash Man and hope the can swallows me on the way down. They know that the longer Miriam stays around my perfect waist, the longer Peter Vaughn will stay on the sidelines. He's old news, but they try to cover up his shenanigans like mainstream media does to their chosen candidate. They try to prop him up on a crutch made of glass, and make excuses when it finally shatters. They were hoping to catch me off guard, out of my element, off my game.......
......Oh how the tables have turned. WEEEEE!
Peter we teamed up before, and we won. Even though I did all of the heavy lifting, I feel like we had a connection that day. I feel like we connected on a deeper level. I feel like we understand each other. Or rather, I understand you. There is so much that you don't know about me, and so much that you purposely overlook. I don't matter to you, Peter, because you sit at the cool kids table. While you dance in the club with the Knox's and the Corey Black's and Larry Tact's, I sit in the corner by myself drawing their demise on my hand with a sharpie. I have never been included in your first class business suit, Peter, and I probably never will. I have never been good enough in your eyes.
To the Alias's and the Robert Main's and the Raion Kido's. To the Shawn Warstein's to the Vhodka Black's to the Eng-fucking-neers, I have never been looked at as "good enough." No matter how many belts I have held, no matter how many matches I have won, no matter how many War Games teams I have captained, I have never been cool enough to sit at the table with your circle.
And that's fine.
Because that table is being flipped upside down. That table is being turned on its top and its legs widdled into spikes that I drive through each and every one of your fucking black hearts........
It starts with you.
They thought they were feeding you another. They thought the run was over, the dream was dead, the streak had stopped. If I lost to a Bobby Ray or a Goth, gasps abound, upset of the century, someone get in touch with Vegas......
But if I lost my precious Miriam to Peter Vaughn? Well, that would just be another day in the office, wouldn't it?
Life goes on.
Well let me put this on the record now, and say it one more time with a little more volume for those in the cheap seats.....
I AM GOING TO BEAT PETER VAUGHN.
I am going to beat him, pin him in the center of the ring, and cement the legacy that all of you have tried so hard to not let me have. To write the story that for so long I was told could never and would never get published. Jenny Myst finally wins the big one.
I go into WrestleWars on the hottest streak of my career and you are just another bump in the road. Another obstacle on the playground, another scary sound in the night. You are another victim. This title may not mean much to any of you, but to me it means the world. To me, Miriam is my heart and soul, my pride and joy, my reason keeping me from biting that proverbial bullet. You've never given me a second look, Peter, and why would you? My entire career, to you, I've been nothing. When I pin you in the center of that ring, 1-2-3, you will have no choice but respect me. No choice but to fear me. No choice to but understand me.
I am the WGWF Television Champion, and for months I have been taking out the trash. Now, I take out The Trash Man, and give a little hope to all of those out there just like me.
Happy Easter, Peter.
May Jesus Bless Your Rotting Soul."