I can’t stand the thought of Misty being the first to do yet another thing. She is always the first, so she thinks she is the best. Being the first Bombshell Champion… Bringing home the first piece of NWA gold. Being the first woman to hold an NWA male World Championship, blah blah freakin’ blah! She always gets the glory, as if it just comes naturally to her. I want to hate her for it, I really do. It is in my nature to want that which I cannot have. I have worked so hard for recognition, busting my ass in every promotion I have been involved with, whether it was as a valet or a wrestling position. Every last fiber of my being wants what she has, because I have worked twice as hard to get a second glance from anyone as a serious competitor. If it weren’t for Misty, I wouldn’t be one of the Seven Deadly Sins, because I would never have allowed myself to succumb to Envy. If I had never done that, then I would never have held a singles championship to this day. So, instead of continuing to hate your guts, dwelling on our past, I give you a friendly congratulation. Well done, Misty.
With that said, I was robbed at Blaze of Glory. While many expected me to be angry at Misty for stopping me from breaking up the pin… actually, I was very angry. But I realized that she didn’t walk off with my championship. Raynin did, and then her and her posse of manly skanks attacked Brooklyn, Misty, and myself. They knew that I was the one to watch out for because it took a six foot woman, and a masked p*ssy to beat me down. I’m sorry that I am built like a woman, and not a prison guard. It was the moment that I watched the stage lights turn red, only to realize that it was my own blood pouring into my eyes, that I realized Misty isn’t shit anymore. She isn’t a threat. She isn’t focused on the Bombshell Championship anymore, and frankly, now that the name has been sullied by a woman who had two chicks that looked like chain gang zombies try to take out the competition, not even I want the damned thing! When you look at the two previous champions, you see Misty, and you see Kittie. Those two names have spelled out Main Event since day one in SCW. To follow it up with a coward, that just erased any credibility, and I wouldn’t touch the fucking piece of garbage with a ten foot pole. Next thing you know, those two twits who made a clique named after a Lindsay Lohan movie will become champions. No, wait, that would still be an improvement, sadly…
And then! Then, did anyone catch the Underworld reject try to justify their actions against the two names that make the damned Bombshell roster? I felt like I was watching the scene from Spiderman 3 where Eddie Brock is praying to God, only it was even more lackluster. Unless, of course, I fell asleep during the interesting parts, because I know I dozed a few times. I just wish someone would have told me that it was a cliché vampire in a bell tower Twilight bullshit kind of thing, and it would have saved me twenty minutes to fast forward to the damned point where she claimed that she was saving the credibility of the Bombshell Division. Saving it from what exactly? Saving it from good competition? You used dirty tactics to attack three women from behind with your buddies. Brood over how big of a hypocrite you are on your own fucking time, and talk facts in your promos.
Now that I have caught you up to speed on the past, let us fast forward to what actually matters anymore, as it isn’t the Bombshell Championship. I have my sights set on the NWA, and it starts with facing the NWA World Tag Team Champions, the HarKore Warriors. I couldn’t stand to sit there week, after week, hearing them challenge every team in the back, knowing full well that men and women can’t fight each other. It was like they expected to embarrass us and make our teams, and our organization as a whole, look like cowards. They want to look all high and mighty in front of the NWA, so they come here and act like tough shit. They wanted to talk about rankings… Don’t make me laugh. The tag rankings are almost a joke by themselves. And look at the clowns leading the parade as the champions of a dying division. I… Just… Could… NOT stand to hear it anymore. Our Bombshells are some of the best all over the world, so facing one of us in a team is a real honor!
No other SCW male/female team wanted to step up, so I talked to Synn about Despayre and I going out there to end this travesty of a sideshow. Say what you will about us Sinners, a band of misfits, but we bring the spotlight to us where ever we go, so naturally Synn brought Despayre in to team with me. Now that we have accepted the challenge, everything seemed to be in order, and we would prove why SCW deserves to be all over the rankings… But it didn’t stop there, after a smartass “press release” transcript landed in front of me. I was “screwed” by that twit Angelica getting a shot at Misty, but I don’t give two shits about a Cruiserweight Championship. I was offered the chance to challenge Misty for it, but I turned it down. The point of it is to jump around the ring and do acrobatics, but I actually wrestle, hand to hand, in the middle of the ring, in REAL wrestling matches. Let Misty enjoy her fluffed up little joke of a championship. I will wait for a real NWA championship to come my way, and I will snatch it up in a heartbeat. Maybe once Despayre and I restore REAL honor to the NWA Tag Team Championships, then maybe they will be worth being around out waists…
At least we make an attempt to be original in our promos instead of waiting for someone to say something. Just saying... As for the rest of the ramblings of Weapon-X and Viper, not all of us females are built like a man, I know I’m not. Some women take steroids, but I enjoy being a girl. If we didn’t like it, we would never have signed on the dotted line, we would have gone somewhere else. Now, what baffles me is the fact that you guys think even for a second that Despayre and I won’t win, and further, if we do win, it would be a fluke… Keep thinking that way, because it will make it a whole hell of a lot easier for us to beat your asses in this SCW ring. So, instead, you want us to “work for it”, which sounds to me like you don’t want us to embarrass the NWA by defeating you, since we are unranked. It’s okay, call it a fluke. It will be a fluke the first time we destroy you… and the second… and the third… and the forth, fifth, six, seventh, and motherfucking fiftieth time we beat you. And everyone says I am the delusional one…
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Location: Hilton Garden Inn – Fontana, California
Date: March 16th, 2012 (13:35 PT)
The hardcore fans of Sin City Wrestling’s Seven Deadly Sins stable is getting a special opportunity that rarely comes around. Every single member is present in the conference room of the venue that is hosting Climax Control in just a few short days. Synn himself stands in front of the group prior to the opening of the floodgates. Sxxxy Shane Boswell, Fantasia, Gabriel, Despayre (and Angel of course), Rage, and Kittie are all spread out across the room, and each has a following that is just dying to come in for the meet and greet session. Synn steps back and gives a nod to the security team. While the hustle over to inspect the ever growing crowd, Kittie leans against the far wall that sports the Sin City Wrestling banner. She can’t help but let out a yawn, because she has been here before, and that was when people sort of liked her as a face. She knew that it would be even less lackluster for her than her first time since almost every SCW fan hated her guts. Even the small bit of exposure to the National Wrestling Alliance fans was not going to change the fact
Kittie looks down to the blonde baby doll sitting in the child safety seat and she reaches down to stroke it’s head, hearing the soft cooing and a smile comes to her face. She watches as the baby seems to come to life, hugging onto the blue bear known as Snowflake, giving her loving kisses on the snowflake printed on the bear’s nose. Kittie gently rocks the seat back and forth with her foot as the first of the fans start to walk into the room.
She takes a deep breath and braces herself for an hour of watching everyone else sign autographs, shake hands, kiss babies, and all of that. What better way to distract ones self from this entire thing than to have a conversation with herself. Such a conversation usually consisted of two or more answers, and they are never dull.
”Girl, shit, why are you even here? You know we are the only ones that got love for you!”
”Drew, shut up. She got exactly what she wanted. You know she doesn’t know how to control herself enough to allow one fan to enjoy watching her. She’s an angry, envious bitch.”
”Both of you, shut it! I’ve been a bitch for a long time. Suddenly it seems to be the cool thing to do, so everyone is jumping on it, screwing each other over, and then calling others out for doing exactly that. In comparison, at least I stay true to who I am. I might get one fan who has half of a working brain cell that recognizes it.”
”You do have a point there. I’m not used to that… Wait, what is this…?”
Kittie’s glazed eyes come to focus as her eyes dart around rapidly, searching for whatever her alter was trying to alert her. She has to take a second glance as she watches the line of people who want pictures with Angel. As cool as the bear is, people are ridiculous. He has the longest crowd, and Despayre is just eating up the attention like a kid in a candy store. Between the two of them, he definitely was the sociable one…
”Hello?”
Kittie snaps back to and looks directly in front of her to see a little bit of a line standing there. To her surprise, they wore different Kittie shirts. She saw the one flipping you off with a smug look. Then of course, there was the one that made her realize just how disturbing she can look when in a rage, screened over in green with “Sin of ENVY” etched behind her, image. There were even a few vintage style shirts from her days in GXW and 3WL. Each and every one of them seemed to be a misfit in their own right, but they were her people… the pierced freaks that have an addiction to Tripp pants and leather accessories, or those who just flat out don’t fit in. They started to slowly form a half circle around her.
Kittie: Um, hi… I mean, what the hell are you all looking at?
Kittie snarls at the group, and they all react with rowdy cheers and a hearty showing of support for her, as if it were a sort of beloved trademark of hers. Kittie never knew that she had a possible adoring public out there. The fans gather around for a picture opportunity with the former Bombshell Champion. Each one shaking hands with her as they pass on. Some come and go to get their picture with each of the Sins, but others stick around, talking with Kittie. There actually were cool fans out there, and Kittie never would have realized that before had it not been for this meet and greet.
Just then, a young woman comes up to Kittie, dressed in a black mini skirt with black and green striped leggings, and the “Sin of ENVY” shirt, her hair almost seeming to match the stockings as it cascades down her back. Her face is covered in piercings that would give a metal detector a real fit, but Kittie nods her head as she approaches.
Fan1: I am so glad that you sold out to the corporate masses of the NWA, because your art in the ring has really nosedived, babe. It showed at Blaze of Glory… But, you’re going to get your gold, aren’t you?
Kittie: And who the bloody fuck are you, trying to tell me something about my job. If you are so appalled, then why are you wearing one of my shirts?
The girl pushes her way up to face Kittie, snarling at the group who tries to object to her. The venom in this girl’s eyes seems to sting each and every one of them as they back up just a few steps. She turns back to Kittie, her narrow eyes reading her up and down. Kittie cracks her back, standing up straight, coming a few inches above her.
Fan1: I was your biggest fan until I realized that you are worthless, so much wasted potential. Now, you just make me laugh. Ever since you sold your soul for the Bombshell Championship, you joined this group, and by comparison, you are the laughing stock of the bunch. Envy drove you, but now you just suck…
There is a chorus of booing coming from behind the girl, as she gets shoved into Kittie. Kittie’s adrenaline rushes through her body, and she wants to bloody up this snobby girl as she grips onto her shirt. She swings her around and pins her against the wall, gritting her teeth.
Kittie: Oh, wonderful. Another know-it-all who has never stepped foot into a wrestling ring, unless you count Smackdown Vs Raw on your douchey PS3. Get fucked if you think you can come at me and tell me what I can and cannot do! And do me a favor, and don’t disgrace my shirt with your face just inches above mine, because you are below me!
Security comes over to check on the situation, as does Rage. The seven foot monster of a man only has to fold his arms across his chest and give that look that says “You’re dead” and the girl holds her hands up in surrender.
Fan1: That’s exactly what I was looking for. That fight. That anger, and that envy. If you go out there half cocked, you aren’t going to be ready to face a real team like HarKore Warriors. I know I’m no expert, but if you only knew what you’ve looked like lately… a real joke… then you would understand why I did what I did. Good luck against them, because you are going to need it… And by the way, Jamie Staggs? Really?
Fan2:*Shouts from the back* Yeah, you and Rage would make a way better couple! Angry sex for the win!
The crowd laughs and Rage gets an unusual grin on his face. Kittie blushes, but remains calm, avoiding eye contact with Rage.. A few more fans come up and get their autographs as well as a handshake. Kittie greets them kindly, which is very surprisingly humanitarian of her. Just then, Despayre comes up to Kittie, tapping her on her shoulder very politely. Kittie turns around, having a good idea of who is behind her, and instantly she looks down a tad at the shorter Despayre.
Despayre: Angel said that you were sick so I wanted to come over and make sure that you were okay. I want you healthy so we can fight those Hardcore Warriors.
Kittie’s eyes scrunch up a bit in confusion. She bites her bottom lip, as if trying to stop herself from asking, but it is inevitable.
Kittie: What do you mean? I’m not sick. We’re going to be fine against these jacka… these jokers. Don’t worry.
Despayre stops and thinks about it for a second, almost seeming as if he is about to tap his chin to deliberate it. He leans down as if to listen to Angel.
Despayre: Are you sure? Angel says that you are suffering from a chronic case of PMS, and…
Kittie grits her teeth, but forces a bit of a smile across her face. She pats his shoulder gently, shaking her head as the extra large crowd gathered around them laughs. She can’t help but give into a little bit of laughter herself as she looks around at the many faces enjoying their antics.
Kittie: That bear sure is a wise ass. Maybe a little too accurate at times… but always a wise ass. Luckily for us, my chronic PMS is actually a real strength. That is the reason we are going to be ranked number eight in the rankings, because I’ve got my sights set on beating the living hell out of the HarKore Warriors. I am no stranger to tag teaming, just like you. And with our strong friendship, and all of the training we’ve done over the last several months, I know we will make an excellent pair of Tag Team Champions in the very near future. HarKore Warriors better be prepared to get P*ssy Whipped!
The fans cheer again, and Kittie actually relishes in it. While she is enjoying it for the briefest of moments, her thoughts are focused entirely on the HarKore Warriors and proving that Sin City Wrestling has exactly what it takes to outmatch the NWA Tag Team Champions. She signs a few more autographs, and poses for a picture with Despayre, and their two teddy bears as the scene fades out.
