Balls!
Stockholm, Sweden; 22nd February, 2015
Blah, blah, blah... boring, pointless words. Blah, blah, blah... Oh, Delia's name is mentioned. Blah, blah, blah... more boring, pointless words. Blah, blah, blah... something about Delia's next victim. Blah, blah, blah, reach into some cheap Bingo bucket to pull out a name. I think something about a midget? Either way, more pointless words. Delia just wants to leave to get back around people who don't smell like canned herring and clinical depression. She looks back down to her phone, because the text from her agent, Declan Krause, was far more important. It was about a modeling gig, something Delia hadn't been a part of in quite some time. She has a gig taking place in about a week and a half, and it was taking place in Copenhagen. How perfect! These other girls didn't need to see her smile, because this was saved for the cameras. She acts uninterested as she responds to her text. However, before she can get too far along with the response, she feels Christian nudge her in the side. She shoots him an evil glare as he prompts her to pick again. Inside of her head, she wants to say so much more.
"Z'e midget was my pick. Why should I have to pick again? I've beaten most of z'ese girls already... ugh whatever... It's not like I'm going to lose any time soon anyway..."
Delia snickers to herself as she reaches back into the bag to pull out Amy Marshall's name. While she seems rather uninterested, Delia has a mixture of emotions brewing on the inside. There is disgust, because... um, Amy Marshall! Duh! There is confidence, because... Amy Marshall!! There was also this feeling that the string of basics Delia would have to defeat to keep her title was nearly endless, hopeless even, because... need I repeat it? What the hell, AMY MARSHALL!!!
Delia shows the ball to Christian who goes on with some more boring words. Whatever, Delia didn't care. Her Mean Girls were all champions, except their manager, Angelica. None of them were in the room, so she had no reason to pay attention to anything going on from here on out. She returns her attention to the phone, as most of the room erupts into cheers. Delia rolls her eyes, scoffing at this notion as she finalizes her text. She presses send and prepares to move on to more important business. She finds a text waiting for her from the man she was sponsoring in ASW, Owen James. She smiles sweetly and genuinely as she taps away at her phone. She finishes and goes to press send when Amy Marshall knocks Delia's phone right out of her hand! Right? How disrespectful. The phone is clearly ruined now, and not only because Amy Marshall touched it either. The screen is totally cracked! Amy makes some kind of snide remark to the WORLD Bombshell Champion, but Delia doesn't even care right now. She flips her hair over her shoulder and looks to the midget woman in front of her.
Delia: Pick it up...
Miss Minnie looks at Delia with a bit of confusion on her face as she places both hands on her hips.
Miss Minnie: I do not work for you, Ms. Darling.
Delia licks at her bottom lip as she tries to be nice and ignore this. She's so nice. I mean, because she tried not to go off like any rational person would do. Of course it didn't work, but it's the thought that counts, right? Wait, let's hope not...
Delia: Yeah, well you work for my boss, right?
Miss Minnie nods her head. Meanwhile, Delia glares over at Amy who has walked off, proud of herself for what she's done, because destruction of someone's personal property is "so cool", right? Ugh, how basic of her. Anyway, Delia looks back to Miss Minnie and narrows her eyes.
Delia: Okay, so you work for z'e guy who pays me for selling out every show I appear on, right?
Miss Minnie: Well, I don't think that's the best way to...
Delia: Right?!
Delia's sharp tone and intimidating posture causes Miss Minnie to nod her head quickly. Delia nods her head and closes her eyes as if she is trying to think of a more modest way to say what she's thinking. She can't, so she shoots straight.
Delia: So, you work for z'e man who benefits from my girls and I? Z'e one who would be bankrupt if Mean Girls were to walk out on z'e company? Yeah... so, basically, you do work for me. Pick it up...
Miss Minnie glares up at Delia angrily. She looks down to the phone and then back to Delia, shaking her head in the negative. Delia gasps at this disrespect. I mean, it's totally disrespectful for someone of her stature and social standing to refuse to help someone like her, right?
Delia: Ugh! You're closer to z'e ground z'an I am! Pick it up before I pick YOU up and drop you in z'e trash can!
Miss Minnie sees Delia's eyes widen, and the seriousness in her tone. Delia gives a silent three count before she reaches for Miss Minnie. This is when Christian Underwood steps in.
Christian: Is there a problem here, ladies?
Delia: Uh, yeah... Z'is one has attitude, and she's refusing to pick up my phone z'at is right in front of her. She's a *whispers* little person... and she is much closer to it z'an I am. Do you see z'e problem?
Christian rubs his chin, deep in thought for all of two seconds. He surveys the situation carefully before nudging the phone closer to Delia with his foot.
Christian: Now it's closer to you. Problem solved.
Delia: Ugh! She's still closer to it because she barely has to bend over to pick it up. I shouldn't have to bend over or else I'll walk like...
Delia gives Christian a wicked look, while feigning innocence and ignorance. She covers her mouth with her neatly manicured hand and gasps. Christian smirks and tilts his head to the side as he folds his arms across his chest.
Christian: Do continue. I'm hanging on your every word here, Miss Darling.
Delia: You and everyone else in, like, z'e world! No, don't flatter yourself. I would never care to compare myself to you.
Christian: I thought I saw your name at the forefront of this years international LGBT support committee.
Delia: Well, you see... most of you gays are fabulous. I love fabulous people. I fully support z'em. However, you? You are NOT fabulous. Sorry bout it. Now, if you would please have Honey I Shrunk the Assistant pick up my phone so I can go see my girls, and you can... do whatever it is z'at you do?
Christian gives it some serious thought, but ultimately he shakes his head. He and Miss Minnie walk toward the door, leaving Delia inside of the locker room alone. She reaches down and sweeps up her broken phone angrily as she growls. After a few seconds, she turns around to see Mercedes, Veronica, Amanda, and Angelica walking through the door, looking a little confused.
Mercedes: Why was everyone cheering? We heard this loud commotion, and then Amy Marshall walked out of the room. Did she get fired?
Amanda: Is she pregnant too?
Veronica: Oh, hunty, those guts are so rotted, it would be a miracle if she could conceive.
Angelica: She can't even conceive a half-way intelligent thought, hunty...
Delia sighs as she realizes her phone had also fallen into a puddle. She holds it out to her side as the water slowly drips from it. Amy's two dollar porn studio was going to go bankrupt to fix her phone, but it had to be done. After a second, the words of her friends sink in, and she snaps back to the here and now.
Delia: Hm? Oh, no... we should be so lucky if she were gone. No, she's apparentlyt my next *air quotes* challenger... for z'e World Bombshell Championship.
Angelica, Veronica, Amanda, and Mercedes (In Unison): WHAT?!?
Delia: Right? Z'ey had me pull a ball from a bucket to determine your next challenger.
Everyone seems shocked by this as they scoff with Delia. However, Angelica thinks about it for a second and then tilts her head to the side as she looks at Delia.
Angelica: Oh my gawd, they pulled that on you too? So lame...
Delia: Um, when did you pull a ball from a bucket?
Angelica gets a bit red in the cheeks with embarrassment as Veronica places a comforting hand on Angelica's shoulder. Angelica nods her head and takes in a deep breath as she looks down to the ground.
Angelica: When I was trying to convince Erik Staggs to give you a contract with SCW.
Everyone else, including Veronica, looks confused by this as they all look at Angelica curiously. Everyone is thinking it, but Mercedes is the one to ask it.
Mercedes: Why did you have to reach your hand into a bucket of balls to get Delia a contract?
Angelica: Duh! To determine how much money Delia would make. It was totally weird! Erik made me fumble around in that bucket for like ten minutes before he let me pull the ball out too. What a freak.
Delia: Huh? I... I don't understand...
Angelica: Of course you wouldn't. It's manager stuff. You're not supposed to understand... Look, all I know is that the bucket was on his lap, and there were tons of balls in this thing. He told me the best numbers were at the bottom, and then he kept saying "Oh yeah, lower baby. Lower." I almost don't think that the entire bucket was full of balls either...
Amanda: Oh, I think it was, Angie...
The rest of the girls look to one another and burst out laughing. Angelica stomps her foot angrily as she shouts out in response.
Angelica: Um, no! I think there was a raw bratwurst in th.... Ohhhhh.... OH!
The laughter around the room gets louder and louder as Angelica fumes in embarrassment and anger. She crosses her arms over her chest, but she remains quiet. Delia is laughing the hardest as she tries with all of her might to catch her breath. She spatters as she stumbles over to Angelica, leaning on her shoulder as she hisses to catch her breath.
Delia: Darling, z'at is rich! Oh! I guess since Liz Smalls is gone, we do need a new stupid one, right?
The rest of the Mean Girls grin from ear to ear at this, trying hard not to laugh, but Angelica shoves Delia away from her, punching her shoulder with all of her might. It stings a bit, but not enough to overcome Delia's laughter. She closes her eyes and counts to five as she manages to catch her breath.
Angelica: Whatever. At least you know how good of a friend I am. Who else would inadvertently give Erik Staggs a hand job for you? None of these stingy bitches would, that's for damned sure!
Angelica sneers as she looks around the room at the Mean Girls, who all agree, with the exception of Amanda, who averts her eyes, not saying a word. Angelica gives an ornery sneer especially for her before flipping her long brunette waves over her shoulder.
Delia: You are right... but, I wonder if z'ey are z'e same balls z'at Christian just used. Hand sanitizer, now!
Delia holds her hand out as Amanda fumbles around in her bag. She pulls out a bottle and generously squirts it into Delia's palms. Delia rubs it in, trying her best to work off all possible bacteria and... yeah... that could be on her hands.
Delia: At least I know z'at Christian had z'e bucket away from his crotch. Plus, I'm definitely not his type. Let's all make a pact right here, right now, kay?
Delia gives her hands one last rub as the sanitizer seaps into her skin. She looks around to all of the ladies as she walks toward the center of the group. She places her hand out in front of her and motions for the others to do the same. Amanda goes first, and then Mercedes. Veronica goes next, and Angelica cautiously places her hand on top of the pile.
Delia: From z'is moment on... we will never reach our hand into a bucket of balls under any circumstance. Do we agree?
They all look to each other with a very serious expression on their faces. As if having a silent conversation that lasts all of ten seconds, they each nod their heads and raise their hands with a resounding "Sha!"
Delia: Good. Z'en it is settled. Any testicles we may or may not touch will be purely by choice, and not by deceit of some pervert who clearly needs to watch the sexual harrassment videos again... Can I get an AMEN?
Mercedes, Amanda, Angelica, and Veronica: AMEN!
Another nod of Delia's head lets us know that this moment is now over. Delia leaves the group as she walks over toward the make up table, picking up her purse and travel bag, flinging both over her shoulders as she walks over toward the door. The rest of the girls gather their belongings and do the same.
[*Fade*]
Light, Camera, Exaction!
Langelinie Promenade, Copenhagen, Denmark; 4th March, 2015
The sun shines brightly despite the cold breeze cutting through the air. Spring is on the horizon, but it has not quite arrived yet. The sunlight glistens off of the water as we scan the bayside area. Eventually, we find our way over to a cameraman in a black cardigan, and a leather jacket. He has a handheld camera, snapping pictures wildly. He is kept warm and toasty in his attire, which is much different from the object of about 100 frames so far. Despite the chill of her pale skin, Delia appears to be completely at home as her long blonde hair flutters in the wind. She looks off into the horizon with her eyes squinted. She is wearing sky blue contact lenses, which cast a brightness to her that we are not used to seeing. She is wearing a white seashell bikini top, as well as an aqua colored set of fins. This is her depiction of the Little Mermaid, oddly enough, it is being shot just about twenty feet from the infamous Edvard Eriksen statue. Delia flaps her fins as she leans back, gazing into the sunlight elegantly. For a split second, she would lead you to believe she was beautiful on the inside as well as the outside.
Cameraman: Aaaaaand cut! Beautiful darling!
Delia: Yes, well it is not my first rodeo cowboy.
Delia winks as she stands up, and an assistant quickly brings her a robe. She wraps it around herself quickly, but she refuses to succumb to the cool sea breeze. She lets her own body warm her skin as she walks over toward an equipment van, followed by the cameraman. His thick Dutch accent is ever present.
Cameraman: You say that as if you are an American. Do you even have citizenship yet?
Delia: Next mon's I can take z'e citizenship exam. Until z'en, I represent chez Paris...
Delia accepts a warm cup of broth from one of the stagehands and brings it to her nose, smelling it and allowing the warmth to hit her face. She puts the foam cup to her lips, but then stops herself.
Delia: Z'is is fat free, no?
Cameraman: Of course it is, Delia. What do you think we want to see you blow up as a balloon?
The two share a chuckle as Delia pats his shoulder. She reaches both hands up and tips the hot liquid back ever so slightly, sipping on it. The cameraman places his jacket around her for added warmth, being a true gentleman. His phone rings, and he holds a finger up, pulling it from his pocket.
Cameraman: Hahhhlllooooo...
He continues on in conversation that not even Delia herself understands. She shrugs her shoulders as she wanders over to her car. She had been away from her phone for all of fifteen minutes, but it felt like a lifetime. She pulls it from her purse and leans against her black Prius rental. She fumbles through the threads of texts when one sticks out above all else. She sees a text from Owen James, from about ten minutes ago. Her expression softens as she opens it, glancing over the words.
"I will be in Copenhagen soon. Thank you for the first class tickets."
She snaps her fingers and Angelica comes around the corner. Delia hands her phone to Angelica.
Delia: Arrange for transportation to z'e hotel for Owen, please and s'ank you.
Angelica: Ew, seriously?
Delia nods her head as if she is trying to be nice, but she fails greatly. She scoffs as she flips her hair over her shoulder. Angelica begins to fumble around on the phone until she looks up, right at the camera, looking a bit confused.
Angelica: What is he doing here, Deelz?
Delia looks up curiously to spot the cameraman also. She rolls her eyes and sighs aloud.
Delia: I guess he wants to hear some words about my match wi's Amy Marshall. I've got two seconds to tell exactly how much of a fuck I give...
Angelica: Two seconds? That seems like two more than she deserves...
Delia: Yes, but I'm so nice. I can't say it enough, because some people seem to want to talk about how much of a bitch I am. It's sad, and feels like listening to a broken record. Amy is one of z'e biggest perpertrators of z'is. She's just going to be anos'er notch in my long reign as z'e best Bombshell Champion in z'e history of ever. And z'e first to be recognized as a World Champion. You see, Amy is not World Champion material. No offense to Mercy, because she's much better z'an her title belt, but Amy is barely Roulette level. She's barely fit to stand benea's my feet. She's lower z'an dirt. She's a joke, and nos'ing will change my mind of z'e matter.
Delia places her hands on her hips for emphasis.
Delia: We've been here before, and I'm sure even Amy remembers how z'at turned out. I walked out victorious. Amy time we have had any dealings, I've come out on top, except z'e time she blindsided me in a dark Bombshell Locker Room. Z'is match won't take place in a locker room. We're in my ring. I'm going to put Amy down like z'e miserable, wor'sless bitch z'at she is. It's a simple fact. Everyone knows it, even z'e friends of hers z'at cheered when it was announced she was lucky enough to face me. Z'ey just don't wish to admit it. Z'e only person who is fooled z'at she stands a chance is herself, and even z'at is questionable. Sure, she's going to give it everys'ing she's got, but it won't be enough...
Angelica: Why are you even wasting your breath? She doesn't deserve to be read to filth by you, hunty. As a matter of fact...
Angelica steps in front of Delia and walks toward the camera. She shoves the handler back a few steps.
Angelica: Cut that thing off. Delia Darling doesn't waste her time with this stupid shit, kay? Buh-bye. Shoo...
Delia smirks as the cameraman shuts the camera off abruptly. We fade out on a bit of chatter from Delia and Angelica.
[*Fade*]
