”A little to the left… Yeah, just like that. Now give the camera some sass…”The white backdrop is set off by two gorgeous bombshells standing directly in the center. The Nevada sun beats down on Angelica and Veronica Taylor as the camera takes one perfect shot after another. They are dressed in nicely fit togas with golden accented olive branch crowns. On each side is a worn ornate pillar. The lovely ladies stare off in different directions as the flashes pop more. Angelica rolls her eyes, stopping half way for another shot. She puts her hand on her hip, and then holds her hand up, as if she is picking at her nails. Veronica puts her hands on her hips and gives the camera as much sass as she can muster. The photographer shouts out words of encouragement as the ladies turn toward each other. In Mean Girls style, both ladies hold hands and lean in as if getting ready to kiss each other’s cheeks. The photographer snaps a few more pictures and claps his hands together.
Photographer: Brilliant ladies! Brilliant. Take five while we do a slight set change.
As the photographer steps away and the set crew steps in, Angelica and Veronica seem to tense up more, likely due to the lack of attention. Angelica sighs as Veronica looks over at her with a sort of underwhelmed look.
Veronica: Like, I thought we were supposed to look like Greek Goddesses, like gorgeous powerful women, but we just look like we came from a dirty frat party. Eww, it’s so effin’ disgusting.
Angelica sighs and nods her head as she continues to preen her nails carefully. She rolls her eyes and then looks over to Veronica.
Angelica: Ugh, right? Such a travesty.
Veronica: Such… a travesty. I am a first class model, and you are gorgeous enough to be one soon enough, so what gives?
Angelica: Most def, girlie… At least we make these horrid outfits look good. We could make a brown bag look fashionable though.
The two walk off of the set as the stagehands begin carrying props and pieces by them. Angelica scoffs at them as she walks past, and the two continue on to the refreshment table. They pick up blue glass bottles of Saratoga waters, and they untwist the caps. Angelica takes a sip and her eyes light up. Veronica drinks it as if it were nothing more than tap water.
Veronica: I can NOT’ wait until we win those Bombshell Tag Team Championships. You know it’s going to happen. There isn’t a team out there that can beat us. Definitely not that geezer and that busted ass tomboy we’re fighting in the opening round. Either they are still disrespecting us, or they want us to look good in the first round…
Angelica: So true... It’s okay though, because, I don’t have an outfit that it could go with, but having all of those bitches being even more jealous of us would be so priceless. I mean, Finesse Levon tries to act like she isn’t, but you know she is. They all wish they were as hot as us. Even Chrissy Underwood is jealous of our hotness. Did you see the way he came out shaking his finger at us? He was all like “I’m ashamed of you for pulling in the ratings…” Puh-lease!
Angelica makes a bubble-headed blonde impression before she takes another sip from her bottle of water and then screws the cap on. Veronica laughs and nods her head at Angelica’s impression as the two look over to the wondrous set up forming. Angelica takes notices as the replica Bombshell Tag titles are brought out and set down on red pillows with golden stitched trim. She smirks and motions for Veronica to follow her. Veronica curiously obeys as they walk over to the set, consisting of four more ornate pillars, all six connected with three strands of ropes covered in flowers. As the stagehands continues putting the set together, Angelica steps through the ropes. The crew stops their work and one man bravely steps up to the Mean Girls.
Stagehand 1: Excuse me ladies, the set’s not finished yet and…
Angelica’s emerald green eyes flare up as she refuses to even look at the man. Instead, she holds a hand out to the side, in his general direction. Veronica covers her mouth in shock and then looks over to the photographer whose face has become just a bit sullen. Angelica scoffs, and then slowly shakes her head from side to side.
Angelica: Oh I KNOW he didn’t just address me as if I were someone aside from myself… Did he? Did he really just go there, because…
Veronica steps aside as Angelica finally turns to acknowledge the man’s existence, although he probably wishes that she didn’t. She turns her look of daggers to the man and takes three prominent steps forward. She flips her long dark hair over her shoulders before pointing a finger at the stagehand.
Angelica: NO BODY addresses me as such. I am not “Miss”… I am not “Ma’am”, “madam”, “girl”, “chick” or anything other than Angelica. I am THAT bitch known around the world as the next hot model next to the WORLD CLASS MODEL, Veronica Taylor. I am so effing tired of getting no respect from the beauty challenged such as yourself. Get out of me face lard ass and go back to being meaningless!
Stagehand: Get the fuck over yourself no-tits and let me do my j…
Angelica: Oh no you didn’t just… Veronica, tell me that this guy didn’t just… For his own sake, PLEASE tell me he didn’t just. Because he is about to be read like a goddamn library book! You sure did hog the “tit” department you grossly obese slob. Your grill… is jacked. You’re old, your flabby, you’re disgusting, and your glasses are straight from the insurance rack. I bet your work clothes are nicer than anything else in your Wal-Mart wardrobe, your triple chin is freaking me out so I’m going to stop looking at you now, but rest assured that just seeing me here today is going to be the closest thing to achieving intimacy to a good-looking human being that you will ever get. And that’s me being nice, porky. Now get the fuck out of my face, kay thanks and BYE!
As the rest of the crew, photographer, and Veronica Taylor point and laugh, the lonely stagehand grits his teeth. He looks down at the ground muttering at Angelica as she returns to holding a hand out at him. She looks back to the photographer, as if talking to him.
Angelica: Preston, where do they find these guys? Seriously, if any of them dare treat me like I am some piece of shit, meaningless, ugly Bombshell, I will walk right off of this set. You know Mean Girls give the best photo ops, so don’t let that get away from you…
Veronica Taylor nods her head as if Angelica were speaking pure fact rather than mere opinion. She looks back to the stagehand and then points over to Angelica and Preston.
Veronica: Excuse me Shamu, I think you owe Angelica an apology for treating her so rudely. Otherwise, neither of us will be taking another picture today, and there will be a letter written to the company. This is the most unprofessional crew I’ve ever seen, I swear.
Angelica: Right? I swear to GOD that’s the truth. Ungrateful losers think that it’s a right to be exposed to our beauty, but it’s really by our own kindness that you get to see us. A real privilege… Just like those disgusting hoes we have to face, whatever the hell their names are, they don’t realize how privileged they are to face this caliber of talent. They are taking it for granted. Losing to us won’t be so bad, because it will be the beginning of an era.
The stagehand scoffs at them and turns around when Veronica grabs onto his belt loop and yanks him back. As he stumbles, he falls onto the flower covered ropes, and it starts a toppling effect. She rolls him over onto his stomach and sits on his back. She yanks his hair back and he shouts out in agony as she turns it into a sort of modified Camel Clutch. Angelica looks down with a smile on her face. She gets down on her knees and smiles right in his face.
Angelica: Are you sorry, tubby? Hm? I can’t hear you when you are screaming like a little bitch boy. What? What’s that?
Stagehand: I’M SORRY! Oh God, I’m sorry!
Veronica shoves his head down, and she crawls off of his back. She rubs his hair from between her fingers, and then she acts as if she is cleaning herself up from having touched him in the first place. Angelica kicks his shoulder for good measure and then she looks back around at the mess with a smile.
Angelica: Roll him out of here, and let’s take pictures this way. It sooo looks like the destructive chaos we will leave in the ring when we advance to the next round for the Bombshell Tag Team Championships. It’s perfect, don’t you think, Veronica?
Veronica: I don’t know… It seems a little too artsy, kind of like something the emo bitch or vampire would look at… Ewwwww
Angelica and Veronica both shudder together at the thought of Misty or Kittie. Angelica shrugs her shoulders at Veronica’s suggestive response. Angelica takes a few steps back, making a square with her fingers as if she were suddenly a professional photographer. She clicks her jaw as if snapping the picture and then returns her look to Veronica.
Angelica: I think it’s perfect. I mean, our beauty will liven things up. Besides, what we’re going to do to Bianca WhoGivesADamn and Trish Newports, it’s not going to be pretty. See, it’s like irony or foreboding or some literary term. Because, of course we are going to win. That’s like a given. But wouldn’t it be cool if we left them like in awe of us? Imagine that, good looking Bombshells holding gold. It’s so… Perfect!
Veronica: Oh my gawd, Angelica… That is so smart.
Angelica: Sooo smart. Who said looks don’t really kill? We have got to make an example of these bitches so they know that Mean Girls are the be all and end all of SCW. It doesn’t matter what an old hag and a gross tomboy have to say on the topic, those are just the facts.
Veronica: Those girls are so stupid and Trish?
Veronica acts as if she s gagging herself with her finger as she rolls her eyes. She mutters “gross” as she looks over to Angelica who is nodding her head in full agreement. They lean in together with their hands on their hips as Preston snaps a picture. Angelica’s expression lightens up a bit as she looks back to Veronica.
Angelica: It’s like I almost feel bad for them because they don’t know any better. They should have done their homework and learned that the Mean Girls are the It Girls here. They think that because you are a hair puller and eye raker that automatically we both are… You’re learning honey…
Angelica nods her head very reassuringly at a frowning Veronica. Angelica gives her a quick hug and then they look off into the distance as if staring at the respective championships that were almost made for them. They reach a hungry hand up to the sky as the flash goes off again.
Angelica: But wrestling is in my blood almost as much as hotness is. I mean, I truly am blessed with that gift. Just because I’m not afraid to pull a bitches weave right out of her head doesn’t mean I don’t have a killer Moonsault or Plancha. I mean, I truly wonder how I haven’t been the Bombshell Champion yet, unless they are afraid a pretty champion will make the company look weak? It’s the only reason I can think of honestly…
They turns forward, one hand on their hips, and another hand reaching out toward the camera. Their eyes show their hunger and determination as they work it. The camera flashes again at exactly the right moment to capture their true beauty (duh!)
Angelica: I mean, Trish should know if she is this big and bad hundred time World Women’s Champion who has wrestled all over the world. If she knew a true Bombshell when she saw one, I wouldn’t be able to blame her. I mean, anyone who thought Mean Girls was a bad movie is clearly not thinking straight, but still… I can’t believe the girl still thinks that they stand a chance at beating Mean Girls. It’s kind of cute actually…
Veronica and Angelica share the most fake, and abruptly ended laugh ever. Once it is out of their system, they are handed a single red apple each. They take a small nibble from the juicy piece of fruit, gently closing their eyes as if enjoying a true taste of the heavens. The camera flashes a few quick times as they open their eyes in sync. Angelica chews on it for a second before turning back to Veronica.
Angelica: You know, I really just feel bad for Bianca. I mean, she is hot enough to be a Mean Girl, but she is stuck with that grotesque geriatric… thing! I mean, it’s not fair that we have to be this hot, and she just has to stand next to her grandmother. By comparison, she looks hotter. With us, we just are that hot and we can stand next to each other and people don’t have to decide who is the ugly one because neither of us are… Though it would be you if we had to split hairs…
Veronica: Bitch, it would sooo be you. Remember who was the First Class Model…
Angelica: I just said if we were splitting hairs. We’re both some hot bitches, aren’t we Preston?
Preston nods his head and gives a thumb up as both girls now look satisfied. They turn back to the camera and give them real fish as they each lift their feet onto one of the fallen pillars. They make different poses as the flashes go off in a frenzy. Once they finally stop, Preston raises a hand in the air.
Preston: Lovely, ladies! That’s a wrap! Beautiful as ever.
DUH!In unison they shout, and then high five each other. As they step over the wreckage of the fallen set, Ms. Holly Wood comes marching up to them, out of the usual female drag attire. He scurries over to them and gives them each a big hug, ending with Angelica.
Holly: Oh my gawd girls! Sickening as I don’t know what… Standard with Mean Girls, but still… You guys rocked it so hard, I’m jealous.
Angelica waves at her face as she is thirsty. Holly hands her one of the blue glass bottles of Saratoga from before. She daintily sips on it, nodding her head as if to say thank you. She wraps one arm around him as Veronica does the same.
Angelica: Why couldn’t you have picked out our outfits… These sheets are so ugly. Such a travesty…
Veronica: SUCH a travesty. Your fashion sense is so much better than these avant-garde, Lady Gaga-esque idiots. But like Angelica said, we could make a potato sack look hot.
Holly: Damn straight! You wouldn’t be my hags if you couldn’t. Now let’s get you ladies presentable for public again. Like I told Darrell last night, let’s see you outta those sheets!
He acts as if he is going to tug them off as they laugh and scurry away. Angelica rounds about and grabs her big purse. She comes back around and shoves as many of the glass bottles of water into her purse as will fit. Holly and Veronica stop their playful laughter and simply raise an eyebrow at Angelica. She slings her bag over her shoulder and sashays toward the exit with them.
Veronica: Oh… my gawd… Angelica, girls like Finesse, Kittie, and Brandi do those sort of low rent things….
Angelica: What? It was, like, the best water I’ve ever tasted… Don’t judge me, either of you ladies…
They open the door to the rooftop entry, and they disappear one by one through the door. As it slams closed, the scene fades out…
The Burn Book:
The BeginningThe scene opens up inside of an undisclosed bedroom. It is large in size, and decked out in pink everything. It is surprising that the windows aren’t tinted pink… Or are they? Either way, Angelica, Veronica, and Holly (dressed in pajama party-style women’s clothing) and sprawled out on the king size bed with a scrap book in front of them. Contrary to what you might expect, the book is black, with ransom-style lettering across the front that reads “Bombshell Burn Book” with X’s and O’s spread out around the front. They chatter amongst themselves as they test to make sure the cover isn’t still wet from the glue. Once they are satisfied, Veronica holds up a picture of Trish Newborn. Angelica looks over at it and rolls her eyes. As she returns her gaze back to the camera, an ornery smile creeps onto her face.
Angelica: So, Trish Newborn… So funny because, unlike us with our baby fresh skin… you are old. At least, you look like you’ve been around to see the dinosaurs die. You look like you’ve seen the dawn of civilization, the rise and fall of Caeser, who makes a great salad by the way…
Veronica: Right? To die for…
Angelica: You are disgustingly wrinkled, and if it weren’t for Clairol, you would surely be grey, and look even more like the nasty witch that you really are. You are the first inductee to the Bombshell Burn Book. No one deserves such an honor, but since you want to try taking MY place as the meanest bitch in Sin City Wrestling, I figure I will give you a blessing in trying.
Veronica begins cutting at the picture as Holly runs the glue stick over the back of the picture. Angelica purses her lips as she looks directly into the camera. Her green eyes are almost on fire as she slowly parts her lips with a sort of purr. A sparkle enters her eyes as she readies her pink sharpie.
Angelica: Since you aren’t used to the real pecking order around here, allow me to tell you that we are the Mean Girls, not because of the brilliant masterpiece of a movie, but because we really are the meanest here. I have been since day one, and you will never dethrone me as the Queen. You can try, but you will fail just like all of these other dirty curs running around in my back yard. In your old age, you should be wiser than to make such a horrible mistake…
Holly slaps the cut out of Trish Newborn into the book. She smoothes over the edges, making sure there are no bubbles. Once it is in securely, Veronica grabs the purple sharpie pen, and Holly grabs the red one. Veronica writes “Fugly Bitch”, and Holly writes “Mean Girls First Victim 5-20-12”. Angelica patiently waits, her smile never leaving her face. She gently presses the tip against the paper as she begins to inscribe her identifier for Trish. Her lips curl into an almost Cheshire grin as she dots her last “i” and crosses her last “t” so to speak. As the camera looks down at it, “Trish Newborn has more wrinkles than a raisin. She’s so old, rainbows used to be black and white when she was a kid.” Angelica then drops her pen down as if she were done, but that is far from the truth. The camera looks back up to see Veronica holding a picture of Bianca Solderini. Holly giggles as she readies her glue stick. Angelica studies the picture for a moment before continuing.
Angelica: Bianca… What a fitting name. Not because you are that sassy, but because you THINK you are that sassy. If you look right at us, you see Sass and Class… I make no bones about being without class. Stevie Wonder can see that I lack it, so for you to point that out is like me saying you are a less hot version of me. It’s common sense, duh… You can deny it all you want, but it’s so obvious. Aside from wishing you were a boy, you would be so perfect on this side.
Angelica looks over to the picture and nods her head for Veronica to start cutting. She does, and then Holly gets the back of the picture nice and ready for the book. She presses it in and thoroughly makes sure it is in place. Angelica smirks as she looks back to the camera.
Angelica: You could be our “Karen”, because obviously you think stating the obvious makes you a genius. It’s okay, because we would love you and laugh at you behind your back like normal people… I am “Sleazy”, I know how to turn out a stripper pole, and Dior and Gucci anything. Don’t be jealous, girl. Learn from the best. But, since you want to follow suit with the rest of these haters in the Bombshell Division, you deserve to go right next to Trishasauraus Rex. Just like when Mean Girls defeat you, and you are laying lifeless on the ground next to her, wishing you would have came at us as a friend instead of an enemy… Go ahead ladies… Let it out.
Angelica leans back as Veronica writes “Busted Tomboy” and Holly writes “Mean Girl Wannabe”. Angelica smirks and winks at the camera. She taps the end of the pen against the book as she tries to think of the perfect thing to write about. The Cheshire grin returns as she jots it down quickly, but neatly. The others laugh as Angelica underlines the first word. She holds the book up to show the world the Burn Book entry. In bright pink, it reads “Hypocrite… Daddy’s Poor Little Rich Girl”
Angelica: See, I don’t care who you were calling a daddy’s girl, but unless you are referring to the roleplaying Mark and I enjoy from time to time, no one in this room is a daddy’s girl, unless you count your picture as a person. I hardly count you as a person, but whatever… You have the nerve to call anyone else that when you are exactly that. Daddy’s CD’s and trust funds and stock dividends, and other kinds of fancy money terms… You have all of that, and you want to talk shit about that which you don’t know… Girl puh-lease! Consider yourself burned, betch…
Angelica slams the book closed and dusts her hands off. After a round of “Oh my gawd”’s going around the room, Angelica seems pretty pleased with herself. Angelica picks up the book and sashays toward the camera. As she does, she slowly lifts the book up to her eye level. She holds it next to her face and smirks as she point with her free hand to the camera.
Angelica: You stupid hoes… One by one, this war on ugly will eat you all up, and then spit you out. Watch what we do to the new blood, and let that be your warning. We WILL be on top. If you don’t like them disses, give my ass some kisses…
Angelica laughs lightly as she raises the book up in front of the camera. The cover is soon the only thing that is visible to the camera’s view. The laughter within the room as Nicki Minaj’s “Stupid Hoe” begins playing is soon cut off as the scene fades out to black.
