<3<><3<><3<><3<><3<>~{Scene One: Facing the Truth}~<><3<><3<><3<><3<><3
”I really, REALLY just want to wake up dammit…”Kittie is seen sitting down in the smoldering ashes of the once beautiful rose garden of her own personal Wonderland. She is seen sitting on top of a wild blue rose pedestal, in her long, flowing blue rose gown. Her eyes are clinched tightly as the once lush garden is full of mostly ash with the occasional wild roses of various colors spread throughout. She is taking in deep breaths, full of anxiety even though everything around her seems rather calm and uneventful. As soon as her eyes open, her pupils dilate. She is staring right into the single eye of her alter ego, Tamara. They look as if they could be twins, except Tamara is easily ten times Kittie’s size at the moment. A rumbling chuckle can be heard as the sparkling eyes of the devious one stares at the silver tiara resting on Kittie’s head.
Kittie: Please, just let me wake up already. I’ve had enough crap to deal with lately, and I’d rather just go back to my mundane reality.
Tamara: Oh, but Kittie, darling… I do miss our lovely little chats. It’s refreshing to know that I have you all to myself…
Tamara’s voice echoes off of the dark marble dome surrounding the garden. She reaches her thumb and index finger together in a pinch as she gently tries to pull the crown off of Kittie’s head. Kittie protects it with a pouty sort of demeanor.
Kittie: Suck it! I don’t need you. I’ve already defeated you, and it is by my own good graces that you are even around. So how about we cut to the chase already. I’m so tired of this bullshit. You know, I used to come here as a child to relax, but lately it’s worse than real life…
Tamara: You are just a saucy little tart, aren’t you? It must come from hanging out with that Sinful bunch that you now call a family.
Kittie purses her lips and folds her arms across her chest. She refuses to look at the giant that is blatantly staring right at her. Instead, she looks off into the serene brook that she nearly drowned in just a few short weeks ago. Still, the bottomless body of water seems so relaxing to stare at.
Kittie: Perhaps. If there isn’t a point to this, then I’m going to move along until I find a way back home.
Tamara: Okay, okay. Aren’t you just a tough nut? See, since you can’t find a true friend in this world, you have to rely on me. I figured we needed some time alone, just us girls. You might think I am a raging bitch with no heart, but what I am about to say is really the most genuine expression of love. You need to wake the hell up and smell the roses.
Kittie: Was that pun intended? Because, if so, that was the cheapest attempt as a cheap pop I have ever heard,,,
Tamara gets a bit gruff with her expression as her eye narrows at Kittie. Kittie seems satisfied with herself as she leans back, enjoying the comforting feeling of the lush rose. Tamara takes in a deep breath and blows at Kittie, causing her to fly backward. She has a hold of one of the rose pedals, and she uses it to slowly parachute down to the ground below her. Tamara looks impatiently toward Kittie as she dusts herself off and stomps her foot in a childish fit of anger.
Tamara: I have been saying this for a while now. You are a fool. Since the day you entered a wrestling ring, every single person has made you out to be a fool. Every woman in GCW, GXW, and 3WL made you a joke. Then, when you got here, Misty made you a joke. You retaliated and you made her pay dearly. It was exactly what you needed, but when you lost the Bombshell Championship, you reverted right back to what you were before. You’re a sad, sad person right now and it’s showing with your drinking problem and your involuntary losses of consciousness.
Kittie puts her fingers in her ears and almost seems to do a childish “la-la-la” chant. Tamara stops and smiles as she stares at the infantile Kittie. She lets loose with a bit of laugher. Kittie gets louder with her chant, but her alter ego’s laughter just bellows out that much harder. Kittie begins screeching it, as Tamara’s laughter fades out.
Tamara: You just let everybody make a fool out of you. Hell, even I made a fool out of you just because I could. But it’s just not funny anymore, honey. The conversations I had with Jamie during the days leading up to the wedding were priceless. He said he needed to get back into the wrestling world, and I thought he was a cute dumbass, so we gave them something to talk about. He was supposed to let you in on the plan, but I guess he felt like riding the Katalya Express a little longer
Kittie: You SHUT UP right now! I’ve had enough of your lies! Whatever you are REALLY trying to do… It won’t work. I’m onto your game, bitch.
Kittie waves off the giant “queen” version of herself, and she begins walking away. She ascends the black marble stairs toward a giant door. As she gets closer, the door gets smaller and smaller until is is about the size of a mouse hole. She looks back at the giant who is laughing at her. Kittie frowns as she looks at the moon as it smiles back at her. The sun approaches him and taps his shoulder. The sun takes the place of the moon and Kittie sighs.
Tamara: Awww, honey… You are mistaken, I assure you. Think about everything I’ve told you here tonight. What can you really argue with? You and Jamie are playing couple even though he hasn’t slept in your bed in over a month now. The only girls that have any ounce of respect for you consume massive amounts of alcohol. You are just an afterthought with the bosses. To them, you had your fifteen minutes of fame, and now it’s time for them to look to the next rambunctious bombshell that will bring in all the dollars by flashing her tits to all the boys. You are a novelty that is being taken for granted, and you know damn well what I am talking about.
Kittie kicks her foot through the little door in frustration, but it barely allows the tip of her foot to pass through. She almost seems to pout, but it is clearly a cover for her getting extremely agitated. She crosses her arms over her chest and glares back at the giant, who from this distance is just as tall as her it seems.
Tamara: You even gave into the idea of being T&A when you waltzed out to that ring two weeks ago in a swimsuit. You would have never done that in a million years, and everything Misty said about it was true.
Kittie uncrosses her arms and her eyes grow wide with rage. She begins walking down the stairs in a huff, pointing her finger in the direction of Tamara. She bares her teeth as she immediately begins screaming.
Kittie: Don’t you FUCKING DARE mention that… that… THING’S name in my presence EVER again! That cur is a disgusting example of another thing that is wrong with the Bombshell Division. She is a coward, she is overly arrogant for what she is, she is just flat out mean for the sake of being a bad person, and that is just the tip of the iceberg, woman! That is why it is so important for me to win this match, because I want a chance to show her that my beating her wasn’t a fluke. It was a fluke that she beat ME to be crowned the first Bombshell Champion. They all say that no one can beat Misty, but I have done it a handful of times… So I have to go through a bunch of whores that mean absolutely nothing to me.
Tamara listens as Kittie continues to scream, and she gets a smile of purely sadistic joy. She begins kicking her feet up behind her as she lay there almost daydreaming of the times that Kittie has beaten the “Top Bitch” of SCW. Kittie just keeps on going like she doesn’t even notice this.
Kittie: I have no friends in this match, and the only one who gets an ounce of my respect is Brooklyn Carter. Every competitor in this match is nothing but roadblocks on my way to my goal. But guess what? I’m a steamroller, and I will mow over each and every one of these wastes of space to make my way to where I rightfully deserve to be. And it is not because I am supposedly a joke.
Roxanne: That is exactly what it is, sweetness. I always told you that you are better than that, but you never wanted to listen.
Kittie looks around before resting her eyes on Roxanne who is lying down in a patch of purple roses; however she is the same size as Kittie. Kittie looks down at the new presence in her mind with a bit of suspicion.
Kittie: What the hell are YOU doing here? Invading Spike’s mind wasn’t enough for you or something? If you want to prove to the world that I’m a crazy nut, then you are about five years too late…
Roxanne rolls over onto her back, spreading out amongst the purple roses. As she sprawls out, the color spreads to each rose that she touches. She closes her eyes, taking in the fragrance, letting out a joyful moan before slowly allowing her eyes to flutter open.
Roxanne: Ohhh such hostility toward the one person who always had faith in you, even when even you didn’t. And the person who saved your life just a few weeks ago… Oh, you simply must come down here and join me. These roses smell so sweet.
Kittie: I would mention the thorn in my ass, but since that’s you, it would almost be redundant… I don’t know what you want, or what you are doing in my head, but I won’t let another thing cloud my mind. Any more distractions and I will go into self destruct, and since you are only residing in minds, that might make it a problem for you to continue existing, so…
Roxanne: I am not even kidding, Kit. It’s like lying down on a fluffy cloud of pedals. You should try it.
Kittie stomps her foot in aggravation and then she marches back down toward the ground level where Roxanne is. She is biting her cheek, trying to remain calm.
Kittie: Are you even hearing a damn thing I’m saying, Roxie? I’m not giving into whatever game you alters are trying to play with me. You keep saying that you are just trying to help me, but all you are doing is driving me bat shit! I would love to embrace you all, but the only thing that happens is that I lose a day to a week. I just need to wake up already, I swear.
Roxanne: That is exactly it. You need to wake up and concentrate on being the Sin of Envy. While everyone is so sure that you are a nothing, you can capitalize on their ignorance. Go out and take what is rightfully yours, darling. Seize the opportunity you have been given, and prove why you should have been the first Bombshell Champion instead of that wretched cur of a woman, Misty. Wake up… Wake up…
<><3<><3<><3<><3<><3”Hmmmm?”
“Kittie, you need to wake up. It’s time.”
“My time?”
“Yes, darling…”<><3<><3<><3<><3<><3 Kittie’s eyes gently flutter open and she looks around at her surroundings. While they are not quite as beautiful, they are much more peaceful. As the blinding filter of light fades away, Kittie sees her niece, Eden, and nephew, Timmy playing Alice: Return to Madness on the big screen television. She rubs at her eyes to double check what she is seeing, and then she rolls her eyes as she stretches out. She comes to a sitting position on the couch and continues to look around. Eden has the controller in her hand, frantically pushing buttons before handing the controller over to Timmy. She lets out a bit of an excited squeal as she charges at her.
Eden: Aunt Kittie’s awake now, daddy! Can we make her some chocolate chip pancakes with chocolate syrup?
Kittie grabs her stomach as the thought of that much chocolate at what she assumes is an early hour makes her feel a bit sick. She wraps her arms around Eden, who turns to watch her brother spray the bolterflies. Kittie strokes her hair gently before hearing someone come down the basement steps.
Spike: Did aunt Kittie request that breakfast, because that sounds like something right out of Ms. Eden’s mouth…
Kittie turns around to look at Spike who is shirtless, brandishing taped up ribs from the pipe shot by Jason Burnside a few weeks ago. He winces a bit before seeing the two curled up on the couch. He smiles as Kittie turns around, shrugging her shoulders questioningly. Spike holds up a finger at her.
Spike: Breakfast is ready on the table, kids. Why don’t you go on upstairs, and I will be there in a minute.
Eden excitedly jumps from Kittie’s arms and then tries to pull her upstairs with her. Kittie gives her a kiss on the top of her head and then lifts her up, allowing her feet to dangle just a few inches from the floor.
Kittie: I’ll come upstairs and eat with you guys in a minute. I just need to ask your daddy a few questions about how I got here.
Eden shrugs her shoulders and then jumps onto her brothers back excitedly. As he bucks around with her, she laughs. Spike and Kittie watch with a smile as the kids make their way to the bottom of the stairs. Eden tries to whisper politely, however it doesn’t work.
Eden: Aunt Kittie musta caught stupid from Uncle Jamie. She doesn’t even know that she got here in a car…
Spike looks at Kittie whose eyes flare up just a bit. He covers his mouth to stifle his laughter. Kittie walks up to him and punches him on his arm. She is half way playing around and half way proving a point as she waves at the kids to get up the steps. Timmy slams the door behind him and Kittie looks to Spike, yanking on his arm to bring him down to her level. She speaks to him through gritted teeth.
Kittie: How the hell did I get here? The last thing I knew, I was laying in my bed at home, and then I wake up on your basement couch?
Spike looks at his friend with a bit of a strange look. He opens his mouth, but the only thing that comes out is a string of “uhhhhh” and “ummmmm”s. She takes a step back, but holds onto his arms as he looks at her. She sinks a bit with a sickened feeling in the pit of her stomach.
Kittie: Nuh uh… Did we…? Oh no, no, no, no… No… No way.
Spike: I’d like to think that I’m not as disgusting of a person as Misty is making me out to be, but to answer your question… No. “Oh no, no, no… No way” I refuse to be a segment on Jerry Springer, Kittie. You called me up to party, I declined, and you came over… Are you sure you don’t remember any of this? The call from the alarm company and the police about my gym… Any of that sound familiar at all?
Kittie shrugs her shoulders, trying to hide her sigh of relief. She punches herself upside her head a couple of times as if that would magically cause her to remember what she’d done. Spike grabs onto her wrist to prevent her from doing it a fourth time.
Spike: You’ve been stressing out too much lately, and hitting your head isn’t going to do a damn thing… Don’t freak out with my kids around, because it’s the last thing I need Misty to bring up.
Kittie: Oh FUCK Misty! If she has something to say to me, she is more than welcomed to come to my face and tell me her damned self! But like every other “bombshell”, she is a coward. She isn’t worth the hype that everyone is putting into her and I wish her a slow, painful rotting in the eternal flames of hell, Spike…
Spike: To be honest, that makes two of us. Well, three, because which ever alter-ego I was talking to last night sure as hell didn’t have a nice word to say about her. But let’s be adults, and try not screaming defamatory comments about one’s mother when they are just a few feet above our head. As she grows up, she will learn that her mother is a self-absorbed, ego-maniacal, man-eating devil whore.
Kittie: I hope that cur crashes on her way to the arena. I would bring the champagne, and you are welcome…
Kittie has lowered her voice as she listens for any sign of the kids coming their way. She looks back up to Spike with a sadistic smile that almost seems to match his. He quickly shakes it off, but Kittie refuses to.
Kittie: Go ahead. Let it out because you have held it in for way too long, Spikey boy… But I respect your way of dealing. Just respect my way of hating that you are dealing with it in such a peaceful way.
Kittie looks down at her feet and she sees a rubber ducky. She closes her eyes, as if a headache were coming on.
”WOOOOOOOOOO!”
Kittie remembers taking one last shot as someone bumps into her. She slams the shot glass down on the bar and swivels around, rather drunk at this point. She stares right into the young brunette’s eyes. Kittie gently removes the girl’s glasses and tosses them behind her. The girl looks at Kittie with a bit of shock. She waves her hand apologetically, when Kittie sees the stuffed pink flamingo in her hands.
Maggie: I’m so sorry about that. My asshole of a friend was trying to wrestle Chrissy away from me.
Just then, the guy comes up, holding a Corona in one hand, and his leather jacket in the other. His hair is a dark brown Mohawk, and he boasts a couple of facial piercings. He snatches the stuffed animal from Maggie’s hands and then he smiles and points at Kittie.
Erik: No way! I write for you!
Kittie: What the hell are you talking about?
Erik: I don’t know… I’m pretty wasted right now.
Kittie: Well that makes four of us, right Rage?
Kittie looks around at Rage, who is almost nodding off. The three laugh at him before he opens one eye. He looks back at them and then growls. Erik walks over to Rage and pats his shoulder gently.
Erik: Ha! Somebody needs to get laid… I should hash tag that.
Kittie: You wouldn’t be the first… or the tenth to do that.
Rage wraps his arm around Erik’s throat and then lifts him up into the air. Erik’s eyes bulge out and he drops his bottle on the floor. He can’t think of anything else to do besides lift the flamingo up to his face. He waves it around there for a moment until Rage even cracks a bit of a laugh. He quickly snaps out of it and then lowers Erik to his feet. Just then the bartender comes up to them with the bouncers behind him.
Bartender: You guys gotta get outta here. You been causing too much trouble ‘round here.Kittie blinks her eyes and then the headache is gone. Spike glances at her softly with concern, but Kittie waves it off. She mumbles to herself about a bear suit, and Spike leans in to listen.
Kittie: I’m fine, Spike. I was just thinking about how things would have been if you would have just left that hag to burn in that dumpster along with the rest of the trash. And her ever so faithful friend is the one to blame for that, and she repaid you with…
“Shhhhhh…”
Spike places finger over her mouth as he shushes her. Instinctively she lunges forward, biting onto his finger, but she stops before she puts too much pressure onto it. She pulls away as Spike nods his head, mouthing that he knows. Kittie folds her arms across her chest and stomps her foot in her own form of protest.
Kittie: How about we call her “Jane”. So, after I barrel through all of these pathetic excuses for competition, and I get that briefcase, I will bring it to the back, and I will get that key. And once I pull out that contract, I promise I will make sure JANE winds up in a flaming dumpster along with her little nutty bitch. Then we will see who the real “One True Bombshell in SCW” is…
Spike: … Am I the only one singing “Jane Says” in the back of my mind?
Kittie: No, I definitely am too… heh. Anyway, you won’t have a damn thing to worry about if I win this Free For All. If I get the chance, I will be sure to take that Bombshell Championship from her. Not only that, but I will make sure that she has atoned for her sins once and for all.
Spike pause for a moment, staring at Kittie as she prepares to walk up the steps. He shakes his head in a bit of disbelief, thinking something over very carefully. Kittie pauses and then looks back to Spike as he is staring at her. She looks at him questioningly before motioning with her head to follow her.
Kittie: Ummm, are you coming or not? I think I am hearing a lot of laughing that can only be caused by the making of mischief…
Spike: Oh, yeah… I just thought I heard… something. It was probably nothing though. We’d better see what kind of catastrophic condition the kitchen is in now. I may need to pick up that Mr. Mom apron again.
Kittie shrugs her shoulders and chuckles with Spike as she begins jogging up the stairs. Spike follows her slowly, eyeballing her the entire way up the stairs with that suspicious feeling gnawing at him. As they come into the kitchen, Eden has pulled out a bottle of chocolate syrup and has a mess made on the table. Spike sighs as Kittie walks over, making a smiley face on the remainder of Eden’s non-chocolate chip pancakes. Timmy shrugs as he shovels eggs into his mouth and the scene fades.
<3<><3<><3<><3<><3<>~{Note To Self…}~<><3<><3<><3<><3<><3Dear Kittie,
You have been beaten down and broken into pieces. You have begun to collect those pieces and rebuild yourself. Everybody thinks that you will be weakened by doing this, but those people can suck it and choke on it. It is nothing but wishful thinking on their part. It’s something that they are telling themselves so that they can sleep peacefully at night. They have no idea what awaits them at Into The Void. Can you imagine the looks on their faces as you deliver consecutive Kat’s Cradle’s to them? The thought of it is simply priceless, darling.
That hopeless piece of garbage, Trish Newborn was the first to publicly bash you and your past. While she may not have realized it, she opened up a huge can of worms with her words. She is simply a tiny maggot that has crawled out of her lovers crusty unmentionables. She is jealous of the talent that you possess, Katalya. She wishes she had a fraction of that talent, because all she has is her career. Not even her own half sister wants anything to do with her. Her own flesh and blood has disowned her, so the only thing she has is her venomous tongue. I know that your first instinct is to want to bash her brains in for ever daring to bring about the controversy that was your 3WL career. It truly is funny what people try to grasp at when they truly have nothing. It is just unfortunate for her that she brought up the wrong thing, isn’t it?
And her friend… Her little bitch of a friend who I will address later, says she respects Trish Newborn? What does she respect? Is it respectable that the girl opens her fucking mouth to talk a lot of crap on people like Brooklyn Carter, and you? She has the gall to say that Brooklyn is a never was in this company when she, herself, is a never was, and a never will be! Is that all that these women can say about Brooklyn? She’s a pothead that didn’t accomplish anything? You were the first one to say any of that stuff, and it’s old news. Whatever drugs the girl is on, she’s got some serious skill. She was here for two months when real life kicked her ass. Who can blame her for that? She may not be your favorite person in the world, but she could school any of these pathetic excuses in this match without batting an eyelash. Regardless of what you’ve said about her Kittie, she is a threat now more than ever. Do not take her lightly, because it is a mistake that just might cost them the match.
Trish’s little friend also mentioned that you brag about championships from the past? Is less than six months ago too far in the past to where it is no longer relevant? It is more relevant than Trish’s “legendary” title reigns in places no one give a fuck about. This isn’t Barbie Doll Wrestling,.. It’s Sin City Wrestling where we have top notch talent, even though Trish was allowed to sign here… She says she can hold a title for more than a couple of months, but I don’t give two little shits about those reigns? Let’s see about that, shall we, Kitten? When I beat her ass in this match, what will that say about her precious titles? I will tell you right now. It says that those belts aren’t worth the fucking copper they were molded on. Of course, beating the ever-living hell out of her won’t be to make any federation look bad. It will simply be to make Trish look like the arrogant fool that she truly is…
And oh how she loves to brag about things that absolutely no body gives a shit about here in Sin City Wrestling. So she wrestled for a so-called quality organization that couldn’t keep it’s doors opened long enough to honor a shot at their top title to a woman who worked her way through an entire roster to get that shot. Let’s not mention that she won their last tag team tournament to capture their tag gold alongside her lover, Nyako right before shutting their doors. This woman was a beast, and the time for complaining about being screwed over is done and past. One could point out to that ignorant piece of trash, Trish Newborn, that one who is champion so many times must lose an awful fucking lot, or else she could bring a collection of her belts down to the ring. The only problem is that every person in the audience and every soul watching from home would just laugh at the stupid bitch. They already do just from hearing her talk about all of these places that we are supposed to believe exist.
But let’s not forget that Ms. Trish owns this SCW ring, even though she couldn’t be bothered to concentrate on her tag team match, and got her ass kicked. So you and Bianca beat Angelica and Veronica Taylor. Who the hell hasn’t done that? I have. Misty has. Fantasia has. Raynin has. Anyone who matters has. Let me clarify before Trish begins to think that she holds any sort of importance to the wrestling world. The people of SCW that matter, such as former champions, have defeated Mean Girls. Also, some who don’t, such as yourself and your partner, have defeated them. It doesn’t make a competitor special, and it doesn’t prove a damn thing to anyone. It’s almost sad to think of it as a viable accomplishment. Unfortunately, she does.
Let’s move on back to her content of character, or lack thereof. She tries to invoke sympathy from us by talking about a dead child. That child is better off not having been subjected to a mother as horrible as you. That was God’s gift to her child, and her punishment for being the wretched, disgusting woman that she is. And they call you emo for a lot less than the crap this woman pulls. And they call Angelica stupid for judging a person by their outer appearance, yet that is what they do. Trish says that you whine and cry all the time, but listing pure facts is apparently wrong. She would rather invent a different federation that she holds a championship in than to bother listing or listening to pure, unadulterated facts. For shame, because it just makes her that much more of a pathetic fucking idiot.
An Italian fool, that is! Because those ignorant Jersey Shore dipshits prove that everyone who is Italian is a genius, right? Wrong. The only thing that they prove time and time again is that they are good at drinking and causing drama with their saddening low intelligence. Should I bring up that I am Irish? Should I list everything that my heritage makes me good at? Eating potatoes. Wearing green. Riverdance. Bagpipes, corned beef, cabbage, and bagged pipes? We high tolerance for alcohol and a low tolerance for ignorant dumb fucks who try to come up into our territory and act big and bad. This is one of those times with Trish, Kittie. She needs to be put into her place. She needs it now more than ever, when she hopes to threaten your rise back to the top. So give her exactly what she needs, because no other Bombshells wants to call her out of being the unintelligent, arrogant piece of crap that she truly is. They all think she’s cutesy with her generic comebacks of calling people whores and c**ts and saying that they suck. Well, I’m tired of it, and you should be as well babycakes. Make sure that she feels the wrath of your brand of justice most out of anyone in this match…
How fun would it be to invite the egotistical piece of shit’s own sister to watch you beat her ass. If you did that, then you might have a new number one fan. Maybe you should drop her a ticket at the Will Call window. How thoughtful you are, darling. Wouldn’t Trish just love that surprise? Oh it would be a sight to see… Do it my precious! Do it!
While there are a million and one other things that I could bring up about the lack of character and class that Trish Newborn possesses, the most clear message will be kicking in her teeth through her rectal cavity. Moving on! So we have Karina Koji. She is the one girl in this match that would make sense as an ally. She is new here, but she is so much like you. She enjoys the sadistic torture that she can hand out in the wrestling ring. She thinks that your anger is a prison that holds you down, when in fact, it is you that holds yourself, and the anger, down. She has made the mistake of generalizing you, or thinking that she has you figured out. There is not one single person in this world has you figured out, not even yourself. Every new person deserves a proper chance to shine like the star that they are. It is just a shame that this one has been written in as an opponent of yours. She has chosen to label you, and she has burned any chance that she had of being a friend with you when she burned a doll that was supposed to symbolize you. For someone who knows the world of wrestling so well, she just lost the one person who would consider bonding with her and helping her. She did have one fraction of a part right when she said that you would be seeing red. However, after you are seeing red, you will be seeing gold… a golden opportunity.
Oh, how funny… What’s that? Oh, I just thought of Bianca Solderini’s comments about slitting of wrists and whining. Isn’t she the one crying on Twitter about wanting a boyfriend? It almost seems like these other girls took the same classes in trash talk, because all they can do is call you emo. The only person who seems to be able to call you a flat out psychopath is Misty. Is she really the one with the most common sense around here? What a sad thought…
Back to Bianca. On the streets, the Bianca means a whiney, self centered bitch. I would try to argue, but that about sums it up. She is nothing. She is jealous of your potential, and her lack thereof. She and Trish belong together, and maybe when you bury their careers, you can make their plot a double? That sounds fun, doesn’t it Kittie Kat? Bianca wrestles as good as she trash talks, which should guarantee that you don’t have to worry about her one bit. Her only claim to fame is that she and Trish beat Angelica and Veronica Taylor. Who the fuck hasn’t? Seriously, and they want to talk to you about being a nobody who brags about what you have done in THIS FEDERATION??? Pass… Scratch those whores off of the list of threats, and put them in the same category as the Mean Girls. Perhaps they could even join forces?
Speaking of the Mean Girls… How funny is it that Veronica Taylor is pissing her panties thinking about facing you. She hasn’t even said a single word about the match. Angelica said a little bit, but the worry in her face shined through. She can say that she will win, but it is just like the rest of these prostitutes running their mouths. Idle threats make you laugh, don’t they? Oh, that’s right. They piss you off even more. The Mean Girls have suddenly become the vice of reason in this division, and it’s sad to see what Misty has done as “Queen of the Bombshells”. Everyone has decided that since Angelica’s mouth is only good for running on about things and sucking ON things, that her insults are funny or true? This is such a sad time when the only thing people can do is recycle the material of other’s.
At least the Freakette’s know they are outmatched here. That is why they have kept their mouths closed. They must share a brain cell with Veronica Taylor. Even though they belong in the opening of the show, they have a future because they don’t want to piss you off. But there is somebody that does… Can you imagine me saying that with a devious pause? Delightful…
There is someone who thinks that the world feels they have to prove a damn thing to her. Do you think you owe anyone an explanation of the rhyme and reason to your madness? Hell no you don’t. At least she didn’t call you an emo, though… Doesn’t that count for something? Maybe just a little? No? Well, even if it had, the words that she had to say about you would probably have knocked that right down the drain. Gothika was part of that attack on you that came right after you lost the Bombshell Championship. She seems to think that putting words in your mouth is as useful a tactic as stealing gimmick ideas. Who was it that yanked on your foot when you were inches away from breaking up Raynin’s pin on Brooklyn Carter. That is a fact. It has nothing to do with the fact of how good you are. It is stating a simple fact. If she wishes to underestimate you, it shall be the dead bitch’s second funeral. And even if it were a Wonka Bar in that briefcase, it would be yours because you will be the one to get it. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.
And speaking of the Fallen and the travesty… I mean bullshit of the night you lost the crown… Brooklyn Carter. As strange of a relationship (or lack thereof) that you two have shared, she is truly the biggest competition in this match thus far. She has proven consistencies that counteract her tendencies to lack previously. She is still a pothead, of course. Hopefully the lack of clarity in her mind will be your window for winning this thing. Don’t worry about it too much, because there is a woman that could take the cake.
That woman is a former Bombshell Champion. The funny thing is that people want to bash such an accomplishment, but there are only three worthy competitors that have honestly held that belt. I just can’t get over how bragging about an accomplishment in your current company is considered pathetic or “emo”. That is neither here nor there, dollface. This woman is a tough competitor with a mean streak in her. She has taken time away from the chase, and she is now getting back into the swing of things. People want to trash her for it, but they will see what a big mistake that is when they meet up with her in that ring. When I look into her eyes, I can see the determination that burns. I can see it, and it’s chilling. Anybody with half a brain that looks into her eyes would know better than to talk trash on her. The sad part of it all is that she stands a great chance of winning this thing. That woman is you, Kittie. You needed to hear it because I’m not so sure that you would believe these FACTS if they weren’t presented to you. So you go on and win whatever it is in that briefcase, and you prove to the world why you DESERVE it. And prove to them exactly why they DON’T…
Love ya Bitch,
-Your own damn self!
<3<><3<><3<><3<><3<>~{Fade to… THE END}~<><3<><3<><3<><3<><3 
