<><3<><3<><3<><3<><3~{Act 1 Scene 1: Sneaky Kittie Kat}~<><3<><3<><3<><3<><3
“I’m gonna FUCK UP those tramps and show them what a REAL MEAN GIRL is like!”
Two security guards drag Kittie through the brightly lit back halls of the Aquarius Casino and Resort in Laughlin Nevada, right after the swimsuit contest has abruptly concluded. Kittie flails around, trying to break free from their grasps while only truly succeeding in breaking a few of the straps on her swimsuit. She grunts as she bares her teeth, wiggling, and even breaking free for just a split second before being snatched up again. She snarls at them before lowering her head. She gives off the impression of being carried off to prison with her sudden sullen posture.
As they work their way through the halls, Kittie passes by the other bombshells as they are being defused. She watches as they calm down, nodding to their respective captor. Kittie grits her teeth and begins struggling once again. She tries yanking away from them, even going as far as to let out an ear-piercing screech that causes the men to shudder. However, they don’t let her go as she runs out of breath. She sucks in another deep breath, and one of the guards puts their hand over her mouth. She grunts before her eyes widen. Just a split second later, the guard screams out in pain, pulling his hand from over her mouth. He looks down to see a bit of blood trickling from his finger as Kittie spits.
Kittie: Let me go, damnit! I just want to talk to them, seriously! My fists have a few things they would like to say to the skank and the priss! Those two have been on my last nerve for a long time, and to be honest, their beatings are WELL overdue! So why don’t you do the Bombshell roster a favor and let me go. I’ll make sure their nasty little mouths can’t open for a month! Try getting title shots with your jaw wired shut, Angelica. Ward only keeps you around because you orally persuade him to.
Kittie’s face is turning red from her struggle as her green eyes seem to reflect a fire building deep inside of her, the harder she struggles. She even goes as far as to growl and screech in anger. They pass up Jamie who is bleeding with a towel wrapped around his head. She grits her teeth as she watches him ignore her, pretending not to even see her, and that damned whistling! It felt like salt on the wound, but she slowed down her fight for a moment. The further away from Angelica and Veronica Taylor that she gets, the less she struggles, and the calmer she gets overall. Her eyes still show the inferno inside of her, but let’s keep that our little secret.
Kittie: I’m so tired of being looked at as a fucking joke around here anymore. It’s GCW, GXW, and 3WL all over again. Everyone thinks that I’m some psycho who they can just push around and poke with a stick like a rabid animal in a cage. They poke, and prod, and laugh, and joke, and push every single button of mine, and they expect me not to snap? No, they want me to snap, but I won’t give them the satisfaction. Scratch that, I will snap when I am face to face with them, and I will give them a whole hell of a lot to laugh about! Wired jaws, broken bones, concussions, massive blood loss and stitches would be a real RIOT! Right? Well let me tell you something. I’m at the end of my rope here. Do you know that?
Kittie looks to each side of her, peering at each security guard that has a hold of her arms. They don’t respond, as they are just looking straight ahead. Kittie shakes her head with the smallest hint of anger flashing across her face once more. She grits and bares her teeth for a second before looking ahead with them. A stagehand is handing out the schedules for Into The Void, and Kittie reaches over, ripping one out of his hand. She quickly scans it and she rolls her eyes.
Kittie: The opening match? Are you FUCKING SERIOUS?!? Yeah, two PPV’s in a row, I am stuck in the opening match. Spectacular!
Kittie is about to crumple the paper up in her hand when a certain pair of words catches her attention. “…golden opportunity.” It takes a bit of the sting from her words, but not fully.
Kittie: I’m a former Bombshell Champion, dammit. Where is the respect I deserve? I accomplished something big by winning that belt. Not just for me, but also for the division. I gave it the first successful title defense, which Misty can never take away from me. She was the first champion, but she was SHIT! I was the first successful defending champion, and I would probably STILL be the Bombshell Champion if Misty didn’t screw me out of it at Blaze of Glory. Looks like I gotta earn my rematch against her by beating up two sluts, a pothead, a vampire ninja, two self-entitled princesses, a man, an airhead, and some new chick. It doesn’t sound so hard now that I think about it…
One of the security guards yawns as the other seems completely distracted by her somewhat good behavior. Kittie smirks and then acts as if she has tripped up a bit. As soon as the guards tighten their grip on her arms, she uses all of her force to jump up, planting her feet against the wall firmly. She uses all of her strength to push off of the wall, knocking both guards backward. Rolling backward, she makes a mad dash in the opposite direction, causing the guards to mutter curses under their breath. Once she disappears, one of them pulls out a walkie-talkie and prepares to say something when Kittie leans around the corner, sticking her tongue out at them with a full-blown raspberry. She lets out a maniacal laugh as she disappears once again.
<><3<><3<><3<><3<><3~{Scene 2: Conversations With Ones’ Self}~<><3<><3<><3<><3<><3
”You really are losing it, Kittie… And the sad thing is that I can’t help you anymore.”
”Girl, it’s no joke. Trust! This time is so much worse than the last time. You’re losing ya shit like an 80 year old in a nursing home…”
”Why should I care anymore? Apparently I’m just a big joke anyway. And that’s so gross, Drew…”
”Yeah, and so is what you been doing lately. When you start to think a gummy bear is a living being, you keep that shit to yourself. You don’t Tweet about the conversations of oppression with them.”
”He brought up some VERY valid points, and you know it! How would you like it if they started eating humans?”
”Oh bloody f… Deep breath, deep breath Tamara… Look, you don’t know what kind of shitstorm is on its way. There isn’t a single thing that either Drew or myself can do to stop it.”
”The former queen’s right, honey… You thought she was a biznatch when she took over for a few days, but wait until you see what’s coming.”
”Biznatch… Nice, Drew. You ignore us regularly, and that’s fine. It’s probably more of a sane approach, but this isn’t just any time, darling. This is quite serious.”
”I’ve seen United States of Tara, and I’m not buying your bullshit. I have been in control of you guys for ninety-nine percent of my life, and I refuse to listen to the voices in my head who want to take over. And do you know why? Because I wasn’t diagnosed yesterday…”
”Aww that hurts! What have I ever done to you, girl?”
”You cost her a certain kind of virginity sweetness… Kittie, you don’t realize that you are one broken, fucked up little girl. You are hardly ever your true self anymore. You are just conscious when you are being integrated with them. And you know it…”
” Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up…”
”Yeah, shut up, shut up! Hee hee hee!”
”See what I mean? You are spinning out of control, losing it… losing it… losing it…”
”There is a new Queen coming, Katalya… Did you miss me?”
Kittie’s head shoots up from her pillow. Her hair clings to her forehead as she looks around in a panic. The sweat drips down from her forehead as she tosses the covers off of herself. She spots something that startles her even further as she scrunches up and presses herself against the headboard, holding onto her knees. Sitting at the edge of her bed, gently resting on the footboard is a small vase with a single purple rose. She reaches back to push her hair out of her face, and as she gulps, her hand brushes against something hanging from her headboard. She looks over to see a bullwhip dangling from the post. Her eyes dart around the room, lit only by moonlight, as she tries to search for something, anything. That is when she sees it.
Roxanne: Hello Kittie, darling one. It’s been a very, very long time, hasn’t it?
Kittie: You’re not real. You’re not…
Roxanne steps out from the shadows and the moonlight shows her crimson lips parted into a smile. Her face is soft, almost like a motherly expression taking over her face as Kittie tries backing up further. Roxanne sits on the edge of the bed, giving Kittie her own room.
Roxanne: Of course not. I’m dead, remember? You buried me in that whole touching display you included in your promo. Oh, the small handful of dirt, nearly had me in tears back then… You milked the hell out of it like an evil genius.
Kittie: Look, what do you want? Should I wake up now and have this be another dream? I hate those sequences with the false wake up…
Roxanne: Hm, I wouldn’t go back to sleep if I were you. You might not wake up again.
Roxanne smirks and offers a soft wink, causing Kittie to scoot over to the side a bit to put more distance between the two. She calms down just a touch as she relaxes her posture. Her gaze lowers down in front of her.
Kittie: I think I understand now. I have just one question… Why?
Roxanne: It’s so simple, darling. You are being portrayed as a weakling, and we both know that you aren’t. You just need a little… push.
Kittie: No, I need a little drink.
Roxane: Honestly, that’s the last thing you need.
Kittie has her phone in her hand, running back and forth over the screen with her finger. She is searching over Twitter for a drinking buddy for the night. She finally finds a snag, until the phone is ripped from her hand.
Roxanne: Fine! Go ahead and perpetuate the idea that you are a lonely, bat-shit crazy, low-life loser. It is the gimmick you pull off best, since it has dominated your career. If you want to continue to be an afterthought because you are scared of success, then be my fucking guest, Kittie Kat! But rest assured, you won’t have the chance to show your face much longer. Soon, you will fade into the shadows so a real Bombshell can surface instead.
Kittie: SHUT THE HELL UP! You’re dead, and there IS a reason… You were a force to be reckoned with, but you lost it. You turned into a bigger loser than I ever was. You turned into a junkie and it cost you your life! If you want to say that I am weak, then go ahead, but do NOT mistake my own supposed weakness as a way to control me, because you are just a ghost of a much weaker person… And you are grasping at straws. Fool everyone else, but you won’t fool me.
She scoops up her phone and begins typing once more. She looks up after a minute, only to see she is now alone. Her face twists into a smile of achievement. She nods her head happily, as she finalizes her plans with… Well, if you read her feed ( @SCWKittie ) then you would already know, right? Right?
<><3<><3<><3<><3<><3~{Scene 3: Letting Loose}~<><3<><3<><3<><3<><3
The doors to the bar open up slowly, and the rock music filters out into the Vegas streets. Even for a weeknight, it is pretty busy inside as the patrons clank their glasses together in celebration. The much quieter ones are drowning their losses with as many alcoholic beverages as they can. Overall the atmosphere shouts out “pretentious Rob Zombie fan” by the tone of “Dragula” setting the mood for the two very prominent figures walking through the door.
The camera pans around to view the dark red walls covered in pictures of various acts that have performed in Vegas recently, as well as a few gold records hanging around the appropriate acts. The neon signs might as well read “Pussy Liquors”, but the crowd contrasts the lowly atmosphere that they are in. They are more of the “Top 40” crowd, causing Kittie to sigh. Rage stands in the doorway and scowls at the crowd inside. As he turns around, Kittie digs her claws into his shirt and does her best to drag him inside with her.
Rage: This is my favorite sleeveless shirt, and if you rip it, I swear to fucking Go…
Kittie: You won’t do shit to me you big ape and you know it.
Rage refuses to budge, and Kittie just shrugs her shoulders. She struts inside of the bar and leaves Rage standing at the door. Her head searches the crowd carefully after her last scare. She walks up to the bar and waits for her turn. The bartender almost looks like a young Danzig who is like a wizard of drink mixing. He is freaky fast, almost like an actual vampire. Not the Twilight variety, more like True Blood type that melts in the sun rather than sparkling. Kittie is mesmerized all the way up until the point that she doesn’t realize he has quickly moved in front of her until her concentration is broken by a “Whaddaya have?” in a New York accent. Kittie shakes her head and then looks into his creepy snake-like eyes.
Kittie: Crimson Tide’s are probably the house drink here, aren’t they?
*1!*
With a nod of his head, the bartender immediately begins mixing the ingredients together before Kittie can even say that is what she will take. He tosses the shaker up quickly into the air, grabbing it from behind his back, and he then empties the contents into the glass. He jams a translucent red toothpick through a couple maraschino cherries and drops it into the glass, sliding it over to Kittie. She slides him a bill and knocks on the bar before turning around to see Rage still standing at the door as if ready for her to leave. She makes sure that he sees her slowly sipping on her drink, savoring the taste as he tightens his jaw. She reaches into her pocket and lifts up the car keys, shaking them at him and he furls his brows. Kittie slides them back into her pocket and then looks over past the bar to the DJ who looks like her kind of people.
Kittie: Let’s see if we can change this from a scene in House of 1000 Corpses to something that resembles a good time…
Kittie carefully shifts to balance her drink as she moves deeper into the crowd. She bangs her head to the music as she nonchalantly dodges the yuppies in polo shirts trying to act as if their pierced tongues help them to belong here more than anyone else. She shudders as a guy that has to be a frat boy comes and tries to grind on her. She shoves him to the side and moves in closer until she feels a hand gripping onto her wrist. She is forced to spin around and the guy from before is shouting incoherently at her. She spits in his face and he grabs onto her hair and pulls her in. He tries to put his lips to hers when he abruptly lifts into the air. Kittie looks over to stare right at Rage’s chest and the dangling feet of the douchebag that tried to tongue her.
Rage: That’s no way to treat a lady, now is it punk?
His voice can be heard screeching like a pubescent teenage boy as Rage tosses him into the crowd. Kittie’s eyes light up like it were Christmas morning and she bounces up and down with her drink, careful not to spill a drop.
Kittie: That… was awesome!
Kittie walks over to the guy and plants a foot right to his groin before she grabs onto Rage’s hand as she finishes off her drink. She leads him back over to the bar. With a scowl on his face, he puts up two fingers for the bartender. Kittie grins as she watches the bartender pour two shots of Jack Daniels. As she reaches for one of them, Rage snatches them both up. Kittie turns grumpy for a moment and she orders one for herself. Rage tosses one of them back.
{1!)
And as Rage tosses back his second, Kittie joins him.
{2!}*2!*
Kittie taps her glass, as the bartender slides over another Crimson Tide. He flings a Jack and Coke down to Rage and Kittie sets down two bills. The two turn around and look at the mayhem on the dance floor that started from their little escapades moments ago. They both bring the straws up to their lips as Kittie begins swaying her hips.
*3!*{3!}
Kittie: I love starting a good bar fight without any repercussions, don’t you?
Rage looks down to her as if she had just proposed that the sky were a light shade of purple. He shakes his head from side to side in dismay.
Rage: I just… I don’t understand the way you think. I mean, do you even have to ask? Fuck yeah I love starting bar fights!
Kittie’s eyes light up again and she extends her hand for a high five. Rage smiles sadistically as he watches a couple guys rock each other’s jaws. There is blood on the dancefloor people!
Kittie: Hmmm, if you added a dozen pair of breasts to the mix, that’s what the opening match is going to look like at Into The Void. That one guy over there almost looks like Rock Rose only with half the muscles. It’s almost uncanny isn’t it? Say, Rock Rose might be down to help #GetRageLaid…
Rage shudders and then shakes his head as he looks down at Kittie. He balls up his fist as Kittie snickers.
Rage: Why do you guys feel the need to constantly bring that up? Seriously, I don’t need any help… And something tells me you are more her type than me, so I’d watch out Kittie Kat.
Kittie reaches over and smacks Rage’s shoulder as she sucks down the last bit of her drink. She sets it down behind her on the bar. Rage sets his down and knocks on the bar, holding up two fingers.
Kittie: You are awfully grumpy, though.
Rage: Okay, if that’s the reason I’m so “grumpy” then what is your excuse? You’re a frigid bitch half of the time. Is Jamie not doing it for ya anymore?
Kittie flips him off with a bit of a playful smirk on her face as she reaches around and grabs both of their drinks. Rage slides two bills to the bartender. Kittie hands Rage his drinks and they both go back to it.
*4!*{4!}
Kittie: Fuck you very much, sir. And you know what, maybe? Jamie and I are on separation at the moment. Let’s see if we can #GetRageAndKittieLaid then… Trend it, you know you want to.
Rage: Keep my name out of it. I don’t need anyone’s help, I am perfectly capable of doing it on my own.
Kittie: If I weren’t going to win this match, I would suggest that Christian and Mark hide the key in your pants…
Kittie laughs, but Rage doesn’t seem to think it is very funny. She pats his shoulder in amusement as she takes another drink. Her vision blurs up for a second, and she looks over to Rage who seems a bit out of focus. She looks around the room for a moment, spotting a couple of guys watching two young brunettes drinking the same drinks as them. She rolls her eyes and then returns her view to the fight being broken up on the floor.
Kittie: I mean, it’s kinda like a given that I’m going to win. I am a former, and should still be, Bombshell Champion here. None of these new girls could hold it together to win the tag tournament as a team, meaning their combined efforts sucked. As much as I love Fantasia, she has been out of action for a while now. Brooklyn Carter couldn’t cut it before, so why should I take her serious right now? And if you really look at my competition, it’s almost laughable. Mean Girls? Stuck up snotty bitches who couldn’t even beat Bianca Solderini and Trish Newborn. Those Mean Girls are useless pieces of shit crowding up the Bombshell Division. They are definitely not good contenders for the Bombshell Championship.
Rage: You don’t even know what’s in the briefcase though.
Kittie downs her drink and sets it on the bar. Rage sees that Kittie has just finished first and he immediately downs what is left in his glass. Kittie points to Rage’s glass and holds up two fingers. She pays for them and brings them back around, handing one to Rage.
*5!*{5!}
Kittie: I’m not an idiot. We are competing singly, and it is for a golden opportunity. It’s time to get back what has always been mine. The only real wild card here is Karina Koji. I haven’t seen anything from her other than at the Swimsuit Contest. She seems kind of crazy… Crazy like… me…
Kittie scratches her head in a bit of confusion. She looks almost sad as the realization that she has to beat on someone who could potentially be a friend comes to mind. She sighs and then takes another gulp of her drink.
Kittie: I don’t even know what to say about Gothika. That vampire bitch is going to get what is coming to her because she humiliated me. Ever since then, others have distracted me, but I haven’t forgotten what she did, Rage. I’m going to kick that devil whore’s ass so hard that she lands back in Bon Temps where she belongs. Nobody attacks me from behind like a coward and fully gets away with it. Aside from the briefcase, this bitch is going to be in my crosshairs for the better part of the match. She humiliated me directly after Misty humiliated me by costing me MY Bombshell Championship.
Kittie sucks down a bit more of her drink before resting it on a coaster. Her vision is becoming more and more blurry. She rubs at her eyes to remedy the problem. Even though it has little effect, Kittie feels almost as if she weren’t having that issue.
Kittie: Brooklyn Carter… Ahhh, what to say about this one… She is another reason I lost my Bombshell Championship. I can’t really blame her for getting her ass kicked though. She couldn’t help that she wasn’t prepared enough for Raynin. For her own sake, I hope that she has learned from her mistakes and has prepared better for this fight, because it’s going to be a lot more than just three opponents in that ring. Lucky for her, it doesn’t require having her shoulders pinned down to the mat to lose.
Rage: Sorry, I’m zoning out here a bit. I guess the pre-party drinks were a bit more than I originally thought. And might I add, you are boring the fuck out of me going on and on like that…
Kittie reaches over and smacks Rage’s shoulder. She grits her teeth and then grabs her drink. She downs the rest and signals for another. Within a few short seconds a replacement is slid down to her. She begins drinking it immediately to wash out the bad taste Rage has just left in her mouth.
*6!*
Kittie: Sorry if I am boring you Mr. Talkative! Feel free to chime in with some intelligent conversation at any time, if you are capable of it… jerk-off!
Rage smirks as he takes another sip from his drink. His cheeks turn just a bit red as he shakes his head. He looks out to the cleared up brawling area that was once a dance floor and his smile widens just a bit.
Kittie: I am going to show everyone that I am not just some washed up has been that never really was. There is a reason that I won the Bombshell Championship, and there is a reason I will get it back very soon. It isn’t because I sleep with the boss. It isn’t because I’ve got a big fake rack. It isn’t because I run around this company acting like I’m the be all and end all with an over inflated ego. It’s because I have envy on my side. I have the drive to take what is rightfully mine, Rage. All of the little girls in this match have nothing on me. I refuse to be cheated out of this opportunity to take back that which is rightfully mine…
Rage watches as Kittie gets lost in her own ranting and raving. He finishes off his drink, and orders three more shots. He drops one ({6!}), and hands the other over to Kittie. They clank the shot glasses together and then they open up the hatch.
*7!*{7!}
*8!*{8!}
*9!*{9!}
*…*{…}
<><3<><3<><3<><3<><3~{Act 2 Scene 1: Waking Up In Vegas}~<><3<><3<><3<><3<><3
”Dammit, my head hurts so bad…”
Kittie opens her eyes only to see pure blackness. She blinks her eyes, but nothing. She panics as she lifts her head up. The pain of the headache intensifies, causing her to grumble even more. She holds the side of her head for a second, feeling something. As she pulls at a string, she sees the faintest hint of light coming into her eyes. She feels at her face, and pulls an eye mask off. As soon as she does, she almost instantly regrets it. She looks down and finds herself lying inside of a toy chest. She scratches the side of her head in a fit of confusion as she looks around her. The bright sun beams in through the doorway of a box truck. Kittie blinks her eyes, hoping that opening them up again would magically transport her to a land where things made sense. She looks around to spot Rage laying face down and naked, poking out of a small pop up tent. She averts her eyes for a moment and then chuckles to herself.
Kittie: Did… Did I just #GetRageLaid ?
Just then, she looks around the rest of the cargo area of the truck to see a tall pink flamingo staring at her. She jumps for a second as it’s eyes almost seem to stare right through her. She shudders, but then hears a female groaning off to her side, and she sees a young brunette girl lying across a small aerobics trampoline. Kittie confusedly scratches at her head as if that would help her explain all of this.
Kittie: Hey… Aren’t you that one Maggie chick?
The girl nods her head before curling up to the stuffed pink flamingo and goes back to sleep. Kittie steps out of the toy chest and carefully walks by the real flamingo. She moves to the front seat and taps the bear suited individual on the shoulder. She gets no response as his head rests against the back of the seat. She tries more persistently.
Kittie: Um, hello?! Could somebody PLEASE explain this to me?
The guy groggily pulls off the bear head and blinks his eyes at Kittie. His dark brown Mohawk is matted to his head as he yawns.
Guy: Last night was soooo FUCKING epic, Kittie!
Kittie: I don’t even remember leaving the bar. Who the hell are you?
Guy: I’m Erik. I’m a huge fan of yours. I help out behind the scenes at SCW… Anyway, we might want to get the hell out of here.
Kittie: Huh?
Erik puts the bear suit back on his head and then runs off. Kittie turns around and she looks out of the wide open door to see that they are parked in the middle of a sidewalk just outside of a McDonald’s, and the sound of running water strikes her in a funny way. She looks through to the cab of the truck to see a stripper passed out next to a guy dressed as a giant bear. Kittie stands up abruptly and looks outside to see several cars honking at them. She walks over to Rage and tries her best to wake him up. She smacks his against the back of his head.
Kittie: Rage… RAGE! Dude! We need to, like, get the hell out of here… NOW! WAKE THE HELL UP!
She barely gets him to move when she hears sirens off in the distance. She begins slapping him a bit harder and quicker. She starts nudging the side of the tent in a panic.
Rage: Leave me the hell alone, Kittie, I’m trying to… Wait, where are we?
Kittie: Ummm, probably on our way to jail if you don’t get the hell up right now!
Rage: Where are my clothes? Did I…?
Kittie: I don’t know but we gotta go like right now!
Kittie darts out of the back of the truck, hoping that Rage is behind her. He looks around and jumps out, wearing only the tent as they dash off through the nearest alleyway.
