Who am I? This is a question I have asked myself a lot lately. I can only rely on myself for an honest answer. If I ask any of the Mean Girls, I will be told that I am Delia Darling, some fearless, cold, calculated, pretty, fabulous Bombshell. In other words, I would be told that I am nearly perfect. While I do agree, I am amazing. It is why I chose our song, because each of us Mean Girls are nearly perfect. Nearly is the key word. I mean, we are better than the rest of the Bombshells, but I openly admit that we are not perfect. I need to know what makes me unique, and different.
I could ask any of the Jealous Janis girls if I wanted to hear the things that are not based solely on flattery. However, for the same reason why I won’t ask the other Mean Girls who I am, I can’t rely on the opinions of Jealous Janis girls either. They will tell you that I am some brainless, cookie cutter Barbie doll of a woman who only remains relevant because I’m an attention whore. They will say that I am a deceitful, heartless bitch who couldn’t win a match on her own. They ignore the fact that I have a better grasp on the English language than they do. They shout the same insults at me and then claim that I am the unoriginal one. As you can see, their opinions are hardly reputable.
So, who can I ask if I cannot find the answer to this question all on my own? Why, I would have to ask the only person whose opinion actually matters in this situation. Who knows me better than anyone else? Who knows what is going on inside of my head? Who knows what I have been through, and the struggles that I have faced? Who is the only person that has been with me throughout my entire life? Why, me of course! I adore my Mean Girls sisters, and it doesn’t pain me one iota to ignore the Jealous Janis’s, but in the end, it is only my opinion that matters. If I wanted to, I could drop my sisters. Or, they could very well do the same to me. I have never been one to travel in a pack anyway, but I don’t intend to drop them. It just leaves me to my point, which is, I am the only one who looks out for me. In the end, I am the only one who can be responsible for me.
To answer my question, “Who am I?†I’m Delia FUCKING Darling! Kiss kiss!
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â€Sometimes one needs to be reminded of where they have come from in order to proceed in life. Your past is a foundation for the future that you are building upon.†–Delia, darling if you must…
The screen is completely black at first. The only thing we can hear is laughter that seems to be coming from another room. The laughter approaches, getting louder before a girlish squeal is heard. There is a loud thud followed by more laughter as keys are heard jingling. The loud voice of Liz Smalls can be heard uttering an ecstatic “OHHHH my GOD!†before the sound of a key entering the key hole is heard. There is more fumbling until the door flings open and the silhouette of Delia, Liz, and Holly can be seen. Clearly, two of the three ladies are intoxicated by their posture… and unless you are blind, the third one might also have found their way into the liquor cabinet *wink wink* unbeknownst to the adults at the birthday Party for Liz Smalls. There is some whispering, followed by a low tone squeal that follows it.
Holly: Dayum girl, where the light… light switch? I know I ain’t that drunk.
Liz: Oh em gee, Holly, do I havetodo… everythhhiiiiiiing?
Delia: No… no! No, no, no it’s over z’ere to z’e…
There is an extra long pause as Delia crosses her arms, pointing in both directions as she giggles, trying to determine the proper direction. Liz slaps her shoulder as she nearly runs out of breath laughing. Holly places her hand on her hip as she points to her right. Delia shakes her head, and Holly points in the opposite direction. Delia shakes her head again and Holly groans in her man voice.
Holly: For a recovering alcoholic, you sure did go overboard tonight bitch… I told you we shoulda asked Veronica to come with us…
Liz: NO! No, it’s myyyyyy birthday and IIIIIIIII don’t want the others around me right now. Except Mercedes, but she was so busy, soooooo….
Finally, Holly finds the switch on the wall. She flips it on to reveal the Mean Girls Clubhouse in California. There is salmon pink as far as the eye can see. From the pink plaid print on the walls, to the pink leather couches, curtains, and pink leopard printed furry throw pillows throughout. It would be a 13 year old girl’s dream, but it hardly looks like something that grown women would enjoy. Despite the coloring, the spacious penthouse suite features a hot tub in the corner, and a large patio area that, despite having an in ground pool that is very sizeable, still has plenty of room for those who are less inclined to swim. Delia pulls off her blonde wig and tosses it on the table inside of the door. She does the same with her stocking cap and she flings her brunette chair around to free it up. She pulls a brush from her purse and begins brushing her hair out. Liz raises an eyebrow at the mess on Delia’s head. Holly is still in full drag, though she reaches under her skirt and begins fumbling around to “untuckâ€. Delia smacks his arm and then motions to the ever impressionable Liz nearby. Holly rolls her eyes as she looks over to Liz.
Holly: This girl is [*EDITED OUT TO PROTECT INVESTED PARTIES*] and you gonna get on to me about removing my gaff? Girl, please…
Liz: Heyyyy! I am NOT [*EDITED OUT TO PROTECT INVESTED PARTIES*] so stop being a… b word…
Liz’s voice trails off as Delia plops down on a leather chaise lounger, sprawling out as she moans from the wonderful feeling of resting on such a comfortable chair. She kicks off her shoes one by one and continues to brush her hair out before losing interest and keeping the brush tangled in her hair.
Delia: Ugh, why did I sit down when I have to… use the bas’room? I can’t get up, can you help me?
Liz: Oookay, I’ll trrrrry!
Liz walks over to Delia and tries to pull her up. However, she tumbles over Delia, screaming as she falls. She lands in a way that doesn’t upset her injured neck, or perhaps she is too [*EDITED*] to care. She and Delia both begin laughing hysterically as Delia lets out an oafish belch. This only makes them laugh even harder, even as Liz tries to protest.
Liz: Ewwwwwwwwwwwww-uhhhhh!!!
Liz gets sick over the edge of the couch. Holly raises an eyebrow and her jaw drops open as she just stares at the two. She is grossed out by their actions, but she can’t seem to look away in case Liz is actually hurt.
Holly: Girls, you a damn mess right about now. Where is the intercom?
Holly rolls her eyes as she walks over to a small speaker box on the wall near the door. She keeps her eyes on both of them as she presses the red button.
Holly: We got a wet clean up in aisle 5. Wet clean up in aisle five… Sorry, it’s my first job talkin’… How do you turn this damn thing off now?
Holly presses more buttons, causing a buzzing noise to crackle over the intercom. She mutters curse words into the box as she tries to figure things out. A door opens off to the side and an older man walks out, staring at the three ladies, seeming to be awestruck. He widens his eyes at Holly before finding it too obvious. His eyes glance over to Liz and he just shakes his head before narrowing his eyes at Delia.
Holly: Excuse me sir, but you ain’t paid to stand around and stare at drunk girls. I need you to clean up that puke from the floor. Oh, and ummm… show me how to turn this damn speaker off, please?
The man looks back to Holly with a look of confusion on his face. He stares and cocks his head to the side, shaking his head for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. Holly rolls her eyes and places both hands on her hips as she scoffs.
Holly: Hey yo, hombre? Yo habla Espanol?
The man scoffs in return as he narrows his eyes angrily at Holly. In a nasally tone, he replies in a way that no one in the room understands.
Non, vous imbicile. Je parle français… (No you idiot. I speak French…)
Holly : Um, que ?
Delia chuckles as the man speaks. She looks over toward Holly, peeling her eyes open only for a second to mutter something under her breath to Holly before Liz rolls off of her slightly, causing her voice to raise.
Delia: He called you an idiot, like duhhh…
Delia immediately closes her eyes, not letting it register at all. Just then, the front door opens up and a man walks in with a mop bucket and rubber gloves on his hands. Holly looks to th man who has just entered, and then back to the man who is standing in the doorway to… the bathroom? Holly tilts her head sideways in confusion, pointing between the two men.
“Je suis ce .. ce ... bébé de ... (I am this.. this... infant's...)â€
Delia groans hearing her native tongue as she looks over toward the bathroom. She shakes her head, thinking that perhaps she is in a dream now. She tries to speak, but her own displeasure gets the best of her. Before she can speak, Liz looks up and gags at the site of this man.
Liz: Ugh, who’s the crusty dusty? Is he liiiike another one of your exes or something?
Holly chuckles at this, despite her confusion. Delia closes her eyes and mutter to herself before her eyes shoot open. She pinches herself to make sure that she isn’t still dreaming, but that is when everything becomes a harsh reality.
Delia: No… he’s my… father…
Dad: Christian Bambineaux et vous? (and you?)
Liz: Oh my God, I’m too [*EDITED TO PROTECT INVESTED PARTIES*] for this! You people and your French…
Holly blinks for a minute, her jaw opened to convey the shock that she is in. Liz slowly gets off of Delia and she goes with Holly outside to get some fresh air. Christian walks over to Delia and folds his arms across his chest a Delia just blinks, unsure of how to respond.
[*The following has been translated for your viewing convenience!*]
Dad: Hello Cordelia Darling. That is what you go by now, is it not?
Delia: No, father… It is Delia Darling. Shall I tell you my new middle name as well? It starts with an “Fâ€!
Dad: How dare you disrespect me like this. I am your father, and you should treat me with at least a small amount of respect!
Delia rolls her eyes as she reaches into her purse and pulls out a cigarette. She scoffs before fumbling around for her lighter. Once she finds it and lights it, her father reaches over and snatches the cigarette from her lips and snaps it in half. He does so in a manner that lets her know that he means business. She goes to protest, but he immediately cuts her off.
Dad: You are an embarrassment to the family name. Your mother is likely embarrassed of you right now also.
Delia: Let me guess… you heard that I became rich, and you decided that you would come and offer to “manage†my money, right? Fuck off…
He reaches over and slaps her across the face, just hard enough to convey his point. This stuns Delia as her eyes widen. She seems to sober up quickly from this as tears begin to stream down her face.
Delia: Don’t you EVER lay a FUCKING HAND on me AGAIN!!! Do I make myself clear?
Dad: As soon as you act like a FUCKING ADULT, then I won’t have to! I take no pleasure in this business, and the last thing I want to do is to correct my 23 year old daughter. Do you understand me, little girl?
Delia: Fuck you!
Dad: You would like that, wouldn’t you? I gave you the best a father could give to his daughter, but you decided to run off and become Paris’ own dirty little whore, no? You spit in my face and slept with a man who was twice your age.
Delia can’t muster up actual words, so instead she roars in fury. She picks up one of the nearby throw pillows and she chucks it at her father. Her roar turns into a high pitched shriek as she continues to throw things at him. His anger fades as he dodged more dangerous items that are coming in his direction. A glass, a make up case, and a can of mace are just a few things that come at him. Delia stumbles out of her chair, not even stopping for breath as she goes to pick up a nearby glass end table. She lifts it above her head as her shriek finally ends. Her nostrils are flared out as she takes hard, shallow breaths.
Delia: Get the FUCK off of my property, you sad, sad old man. You are nothing to me since you disowned me! I’m not your daughter, and I refuse to allow you to speak to me that way!
Delia chucks the table at her father, but he dodges it as if he weren’t in his 60’s. He takes in a few sharp breaths before holding a hand out toward Delia, calling for a cease fire. Delia doesn’t let up as she charges over toward him. The two dance around the pink leather couch, Christian keeping his distance from his daughter.
Dad: I will not apologize for speaking the truth to you, Delia. You can hate me, but my hate for you has gone away. I see that I have done the wrong thing by disowning my own daughter, and I see the way it has affected you.
Delia: You would just love to take credit for how I’ve turned out, but the truth is that I have become EVERYTHING you said I couldn’t… I’m a star. I’ve been on magazine covers, I wrestle, and I’m one of the most talked about people on Twitter. I did it all on my own. Nor even Guillaume can take credit for that. I did it all!
Dad: You certainly did. You did a lot of things that I am certain you did not learn from your mother, or me. You didn’t earn anything. You slept with a sleazy older man to get noticed.
Delia lunges over the couch, taking a swipe at her father in anger. She shrieks loudly as she tries to claw at him. Her teeth are bared like a rabid animal as she pushes the couch into his gut. He doubles over, but in a moment of valor, he sucks it up so that Delia doesn’t realize that it has hurt him.
Delia: I did NO SUCH THING! I LOVED him! I was going to marry him. He was so cultured and he showed me a new side of life that I never would have learned in law school! And before you make another disgusting sexual innuendo, it is just weird coming from some old man like you…
Dad: I can not forget what you’ve done, Delia, but I am not here to rub it in your face. I regret that I have disowned you, and I wish to make up for this. That is why I came, because I want to make things right. I want to see my sweet girl come back.
Delia scoffs, however she lightens her mood slightly. She stops circling the couch and simply stares daggers through her father. She catches her breath, not even noticing the man cleaning up the crushed glass now, or Holly and Liz watching on with worried yet intrigued expressions on their faces. Delia places one hand on her hip as she looks down to her other hand, preening her nails as she forces a bitchy sort of laugh.
Delia: But, daddy dearest. Have you not heard? I’m not your sweet baby girl anymore. I’ve grown up, and I’m a Mean Girl now… Sorry bout it (AKA Désolé à ce sujet) Not really…
Dad: No, I know that my sweet daughter is still in there somewhere. We just need to find her. I’m willing to stay and find her.
Delia: No thank you. That will not be necessary. Sorry, not sorry.
Dad: Oh, but that was not as much of a request as it was a statement. I’m sure that you will not mind your father joining you for some of your business ventures while we rekindle our relationship.
Delia rolls her eyes and all but hisses at her father with her venomous tongue as she writes his comment off immediately/
Delia: Why don’t you go back to mother, and live your dreadfully boring Beauty and the Beast fairytale.
Delia chuckles at this as she once again rolls her eyes. These words have a much larger impact on her father as pain registers in his eyes. Delia’s chuckle slows, but does not go away. There is an underlying worry in her own eyes as she looks at her father. He looks up, ready to drop a bombshell on this Bombshell.
Dad: I’m afraid your mother never showed you the last chapter where Belle divorces Beast and forces him to sell the castle in exchange for a small apartment outside of Paris?
Delia: Ugh, I thought she died. Okay, so this is about money after all. It makes sense on the kind of wages you and mother brought in. If I throw money at you, will you just go away and we can pretend that this night never happened?
The comment genuinely cuts at her father’s heart. He nearly sheds a tear, but takes a deep breath to stifle it. He shakes his head from side to side slowly as his hurt almost seems to melt Delia herself, but only for a split second.
Dad: No… no, it isn’t about money at all. I only wish to spend time with my daughter. I can’t stand that small apartment any longer. I’ve quit my job, and have come over on a tourist visa. Besides, what is it that you always say? “Paris is the smelliest place on the planet. Did they not get the memorandum about deodorant?â€
Delia giggles as she lightens her mood slightly. She tries not to soften up too much, viewing it as a sign of weakness. She simply nods her head as Liz and Holly can be heard giggling from the cracked door. Delia looks over and Liz quickly closes it. Delia rolls her eyes and then looks to her father.
Delia: Not that I like the idea, but I’m not quite as heartless as some would like to believe. If you wish to stay with me, I do have my condo in Vegas. You are welcomed to stay there.
Dad: No, no, no… I want to come along with you on the road. I want to spend quality time with you, and…
Delia: Ugh! Fine! You can come on the road with me, but you better not slow me down. I have a busy schedule, and I don’t need some old man causing me to miss appointments. If you think you can keep up with me, then you are welcomed to try…
Her father clacks his hands together with a smile on his face. He laughs to express his joy as Delia rolls her eyes once more. She looks over to Liz and Holly who are still spying on the situation, and she waves them in. They quickly come inside, hoping for a front row seat to the drama, but Delia smirks, causing a bit of disappointment to both ladies. She motions for her father to have a seat as the scene goes black.
>[*Fade*]
Sometimes it is the thing that you expect the least that happens. You have one of two choices. You can fight it, no matter how good it might actually be for you. You can resist the change, or you can allow it to happen. You can accept it, and try to make the best of the situation. That is what I have decided to do with my father coming back into my life. He and I were close at one point, but he detested my lifestyle choices. If he still felt that way, would he come across the Atlantic Ocean to become close with me again? I think not, so perhaps I shouldn’t resist this so much. What little girl doesn’t want to be close with her father? So, here goes nothing…
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â€Sometimes you have to realize who you can trust. If you know that you can trust someone, you let them roam free. When you don’t trust someone, you must keep them at arms length without them knowing it.†–Delia, darling if you must
It is just another day in the life of Delia Darling. She dodges a few camera happy pedestrians looking for pictures with a celebrity, or to sell to the tabloids. She has lunch with Liz at Vince’s Bistro, taking in her favorite Asian cuisine. She gets herself into some trouble on Twitter, all while acting as if she is above it all. In her mind, she truly is.
We find ourselves captivated by her radiant smile as she saunters through the pristine parking lot just a few miles outside of Hollywood that has been claimed for the Mean Girls clubhouse. The bright sunlight shimmers off of her platinum blonde curls as they bounce. Her Gucci shades protect her eyes, but we can only assume that the doe-like pupils are sparkling with joy. Her skin is flawless, and her gorgeous DeLIZious Lips by Liz shimmer as she approaches the building. Her salmon pink ruffled skirt and blouse pop because of the black corset. Her black stiletto heels click against the well kempt pavement as she pulls out an ID card. She waves it at a doorman who nods and opens the door for Delia.
Doorman: Good evening, Ms. Darling. How are you?
Delia: Ugh, who are you exactly? Where is Reginald? He smells a lot better z’an you do mister…
Delia lifts up her sunglasses as she squints at the name on his golden badge. Dorian is the name that she reads as she leans away, pinching her nose. She groans at the smell and then turns away from him.
Delia: I can tell you had bologna for lunch… how quaint…
Delia flips her hair over her shoulder as the man lets the door go, smacking her on her ample bottom as she walks inside of the building. She scoffs and glares back at him as he covers his mouth, presumably saying “oops†along with it as he turns away. Delia curls her fingers up, clinching her fist together before taking a deep breath and walking down the long hallway. The walls have a very regal feel to them, accented with golden marble swirl and deep mahogany trim. The carpeting softens the sound of her heels clicking as she stops by a mailbox, turning the left side of her lips into a smirk as she likely contemplates the usefulness of a mailbox in this day in age. She crosses a hallway and walks over to a side elevator that has been painted salmon pink with the Burn Book style “Mean Girls†logo printed on it. She slides her card before the door opens. She steps inside and crosses her arms over her bag, waiting as the elevator door slowly closes in front of her. A soft jazzy beat of muzak plays from a speaker above her head as she takes her sunglasses off, sliding them into her handbag. She bares her teeth as she begin picking at them in the reflection in the door which has been converted into a mirror by request. She gets a hunk of something from her teeth as the door slowly opens. She steps out and reaches into her purse to find a set of keys before walking down a short corridor. She opens the door and opens her mouth to speak, only for it to drop in pure horror.
Chris: Cordy, darling, I didn’t realize you would be home so soon…
His extremely thick French accent echo as he reaches up into the kitchen cabinet to grab a glass, his pale bare bottom practically shining in the setting sun. Delia scoffs and then places her hand in front of her eyes, leaving only her glossy pink lips in our view.
Delia: Daddy! Z’is is not my private residence, and I would beg you kindly to stay decent, even in my home… Z’is is America, not Holland…
Chris: Ah yes, I forget z’at z’is is z’e country founded by prudes who are ashamed of z’eir bodies. I was just about to go for a swim.
Delia keeps her jaw gaped and her hand in front of her eyes as her father casually walks over to the fridge where he retrieves a bottle of mineral water, pouring it into the glass. He takes a sip in relief as he uses the counter to hide his naked body.
Chris: Maybe if you would leave z’e room, I could get dressed and z’is would be a lot less, as you say… awkward, no?
Delia is once again about to speak when the bathroom door opens slowly. Delia is even more embarrassed at the fact that someone is there to see her naked father and she turns toward the bathroom to see Tessa standing there. However, she is not put at ease as she sees Tessa adjusting a salmon pink bath robe around herself, pulling it closed to see that she is not wearing anything else underneath. Delia blinks for a minute before she starts to turn back to question her father. She realizes his current state and stops herself, staring only ahead.
Delia: Tessa…? Z’is is my fas’er, Chr…
Chris: Chris Darling. I probably should have mentioned my name before you…
In a nasally chuckle, Chris stops himself mid thought as Delia screams. She continues to scream as she walks over to the large patio door, throwing it open. She continues to scream as she walks forward, tossing her handbag onto the ground as she walks right into the sizable pool, which is the only thing that cuts off her screaming. Tessa raises an eyebrow, smirking as she looks back over to Chris with blush in her cheeks.
Tessa: I guess she didn’t like the idear of me being her new mum…
Chris: Cordy will be Cordy, I am afraid… I had hoped for her not to find out about our little… indiscretion.
Tessa pulls her robe together tightly to cover up her naked body as she walks over toward the door. She opens it up to see Delia fling her wig off before throwing it randomly. She is having an all out brawl with the water as she kicks her legs around, punching and slapping at the water angrily as she growls. Tessa’s eyes sink as she walks over to the edge of the fool. She raises the robe slightly before placing her feet in the water. She watches as Delia self destructs for a few moments longer before she softly mutters.
Tessa: I’m sorry, Deelz… I really am. I didn’t know he was yer pa until after, if I’m honest.
Delia: Of course, because you’re a disgusting… FUGLY SLUT! You see a man’s penis and you think to yourself “Oh, that hasn’t been shoved in me crotch yet! I better fix that, yeah?!?†Like ga-ross!
Delia practically shrieks this, which is only made comical when she goes into a French rendition of a British accent. She gives one final wave of her hand, splashing Tessa who modestly accepts the insult without any form of protest. As the water hits her face, she gently wipes it away before responding.
Tessa: It’s not like that, Delia. It’s almost like ye and Guillaume. I guess I have some fucked up daddy issues that I needed to work out.
Delia: Seriously? You want to blame it on *animated air quotes* DADDY issues? Last mon’s, did you have arrogant, pill popping drunk Chicago prick issues? And every os’er week, do you have male ring rat issues? Oh, or pizza boy issues, barista issues, bas’room peeper issues? Gawd, z’ey offer counseling to deal wi’s issues. You don’t need to abuse your genitals to work out issues…
Delia’s words fly at Tessa like daggers, but she simply takes them, letting them dig deep into her as she sits there, not flinching a muscle. Once Delia finally trails off, Tessa just nods her head, sighing. She gently sways her foot from side to side, feeling the cool water flowing between her toes as she goes.
Tessa: I get it, Delia. I really do, but I have been working on it. I just want to be the best Mean Girl I can be. Besides, ye don’t talk to Liz like this when she’s shagging a new guy every other day and getting engaged to them. Bitch has got to have more jewels than all of Agrabah.
Delia: But LIZ is successful! She is ALREADY a star! She is what you want to BE! She doesn’t have to work at anys’ing because she already has it all.
Tessa: Okay, now yer just being a twat. I don’t have to sit here all night and listen to this when I could go boink yer dad again if I wanted to. Ye know, for being in his sixties, he still works like a young buck…
Delia growls as she clinches her eyes shut. Tessa stands up and pulls the robe tightly against her once more. She turns to walk away as Delia sighs loudly for her to hear. She doesn’t stop until Delia speaks.
Delia: I’m sorry… Tessa. Z’is situation has not been easy for me wi’s z’e man popping back into my life less z’an twenty four hours ago, and z’en coming in from a beautiful day out to find my assistant sleeping wi’s my fas’er. It’s like some soap opera z’at is my life. I can’t change z’e channel, and it is so frustrating sometimes.
Tessa: Yeah? Is it called Young and the Heartless? I’m stuck watching it from the other room, so I know how it feels better than ye do probably.
Delia: I know, I know… I’m just… I’m not happy, Tessa. Z’at is why I was so upset when you wound up in z’e hospital, because I… I know z’e feeling. If I were not a God fearing woman, I might have… you know? People want to know why I am z’e way z’at I am. No one knows, not even Liz.
Delia’s face twists into a look of pure sadness. We can assume that there are tears amongst the water dripping down her face already as she wades over to the side of the pool. She sobs into her arms as Tessa turns back around. She too is saddened as she walks over to Delia, offering her a helping hand to get out of the pool. She pulls Delia close into a hug. Delia cries as her father, no wearing a pair of black sweat pants and a #MeanGirls Delia shirt, steps out onto the patio area. He watches as Tessa gently rubs the Delia’s back, and his eyes become sullen. He sighs as Tessa gives him a nod that lets him know that she’s got this handled. He nods back before stepping back inside of the clubhouse.
Tessa: It’s okay, Delia. I totally understand, luv.
Delia: Sometimes I just wish I could bring myself to sleep wi’s whoever looked attractive enough. Z’en maybe I wouldn’t be so alone all z’e time! I mean, does it really make you feel better to sleep wi’s every Tom Harry Dick? Honestly, I want to know.
Tessa: It is a stress reliever, that’s for sure, sweets. It doesn’t fix everything, but it numbs the pain a little. Ever since Michael, I’ve felt an emptiness, but sometimes a fling helps ye to forget about it for a little bit. Maybe ye need a fling to help ye forget about Guillaume? What about that Eric Paisano guy ye dated over the weekend?
Delia: I still want to get to know him. I just don’t know… a fling is not my style. I’ve never had a fling.
Tessa chuckles a little as she pulls away from Delia. She gives her the most loving look she can as she brushes a few strands of wet hair that are clinging to Delia’s face. Delia looks directly into Tessa’s emerald eyes as she sniffles.
Tessa: Ye haven’t had one yet. Yer still young, luv. Who says ye can’t test out the waters a little. Have a little fun and let loose for once. Maybe people will stop calling ye a frigid bitch…
Delia chuckles as she looks away. She wipes a tear from her eyes. She shrugs her shoulders before looking to her father who is staring out from the window. After a moment, she shakes her head from side to side quickly.
Delia: Z’at is not me. Maybe I should stop criticizing you for it, but z’e right one will come along soon enough. He will be wor’s z’e wait, I am sure of it.
Tessa: Whatever puts a smile on yer pretty little face, Deelz… Now come on. Let’s go out and do something as sisters.
Delia smiles, thinking it over for a second as if such a thing were completely absurd. She blinks for a moment and then nods her head with a smile. She wipes a stream of water from her face before sniffling again.
Delia: Well, obviously I can’t go out looking like z’is. And you might want to wear a little more z’an z’at, no? Oh em gee, I will even tell people that we hung out and not be embarrassed. You’re such a good sister to me…
Delia gives Tessa a tight hug, giving an uncharacteristic smile as she walks away. Tessa raises an eyebrow and laughs as she gently pats Delia’s back. Delia skips inside of the house. As she passes her father, she plants a sweet kiss on his cheek before moving along. Tessa waves to her in a friendly way before walking toward the door. She gives Delia’s father a wanton look as she reaches her hand up his shirt, fondling his chest as she leans in close to whisper.
Tessa: We’re going out, Chris, but I promise that I won’t let her get into any trouble. But, she’s going to be a while, so we have time for round five, if ye got it in ye…
Tessa giggles as she opens her robe a few extra inches to entice him. His eyes widen as he nods, leaning in for a kiss. However, Tessa shakes her head and then sways her hips as she walks back inside of the clubhouse. Chris flings his shirt off of himself quickly as he doesn’t give her a chance to get far before disappearing inside as well.
>[*Fade*]
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â€The best way to forget your misery is to have a good laugh. What better way to laugh than at the misery or humiliation of someone else? It is time to start allowing the Jealous Janis girls to get a taste of their own medicine. Sorry bout it…†–Delia, darling if you must
Mesa, Arizona is set to host Climax Control 93, which is the last Climax Control before Violent Conduct II. The suburb just twenty miles east of Phoenix was not where many of the Sin City Wrestling roster had decided to spend the days leading up to the show. Many wanted to spend it in the better known city nearby. The Mean Girls were no exception to this. In fact, they seemed to be the pioneers of this idea, thought this might be subjective information. The sun is blazing on this afternoon, and the dry heat is expected to reach well into the triple digits. A certain Mean Girl who shall not be named, whined and complained about her mother warning her of heat stroke, and has decided not to attend this unorthodox Mean Girls outing. As a matter of fact, two other Mean Girls, Holly and Veronica, had decided not to be involved in this fun excursion either.
Today’s venture takes place outside of Gold’s Gym, where some of SCW’s elite were training, hoping to make their best impressions leading up to Violent Conduct II. Many familiar faces are seen coming and going, but today we spot Delia Darling and Angelica posted up near the doors. As people come and go, the two of them hand them a rolled up sheet of paper, offering a friendly smile. Both are dressed according to the weather, despite being in the shade. They are wearing matching pink shorts, tight tank tops, and pink open toed shoes to show off their beautiful Nails By Liz painted nails, in Mean Girls Pink. They offer a friendly “Thank you†to anyone who doesn’t turn down the offering. There are uncharacteristically sweet smiles on their faces as they continue handing them out at the busy establishment. After a few moments, there is a slight break in people coming and going, and Angelica wipes a bit of sweat from her forehead. Delia hands out one last paper before sighing and turning toward Angelica.
Angelica: It is so unfair that we couldn’t get Liz to do this with us. Like, why do we have to do this on our own?
Delia: It’s not like Veronica was quick to help us eis’er. And look at Tessa out in the sun. You know z’e Irish are too fair to handle z’e sun for long periods of time.
Angelica: Right. It is worth it though, like totally worth it. I can’t wait to see the look on her face when…
Delia grins and gently jabs Angelica in the ribs to quiet her down as someone else walks out of the gym. It is a tall, slender blonde man with deep blue eyes. Delia could have gotten lost in them had she not been so preoccupied with the papers.
Delia: S’ank you, darling. Be sure to have a careful look at z’e paper at your earliest convenience.
Man: Will do. Thanks beautiful.
Delia laughs bashfully as the man pulls the rubber band off of the paper. He walks away as he begins unrolling the paper, causing a wicked grin to come over Delia’s face. Angelica silently mocks Delia’s attempt at flirting by waving her head around with a typical Valley Girl movement.
Angelica: Like be sure to look at the paper at your earliest convenience…
Delia: Oh shut it, Angie! It’s better z’an saying “Read it and I’ll get down on my knees and blow you…â€
Delia chuckles at her quip as she turns away. She doesn’t see Angelica’s expression sour as she places a hand on her hip. She is ready to come back to this, but Delia quickly cuts her off.
Delia: Z’is is going to be so funny, darling. I can’t wait to see her face when…
Delia hears the door open again and she quickly stops herself in mid sentence. She smiles sweetly, but it quickly fades as she slowly turns to the door just in time to see Lexi Styles walking out with her gym bag hung over her right shoulder. Lexi’s usually sweet smile fades as she locks eyes with Angelica, and then Delia right after. They stare at each other for a moment as Delia’s sweet smiles turns into a rather mean-spirited smirk. She sighs as she tries to hold back from laughing.
Delia: Oh, funny finding you here. Won’t you Canadian’s melt when z’e temperature is above 90 degrees?
Lexi nods her head as if she enjoys the joke. She cracks a friendly smirk and a forced chuckle as she switches her bag over to the other shoulder. Once it is there, she takes her turn sighing.
Lexi: Funny, I was thinking the same thing about your icy heart. But then I got to thinking that you might not even have a heart to begin with.
Angelica: Delia? Does this basic actually think she can get away with talking to us like that? Listen, hun-ty…
Delia places a hand up in Angelica’s face which causes her to get even angrier. She smacks Delia’s hand out of her face and pulls the rubber band off of one of the pieces of paper, but before she has a chance to unroll it, Delia rips it out of her hand and crumples it up beyond recognition.
Lexi: You and I still have some unfinished business, Angie “huntyâ€.
Angelica: Why not settle it here and now, bitch?
Even Delia looks stunned by Angelica’s openly blatant attack on Lexi. However, Lexi remains calm and doesn’t even bother getting tense over it. She barely removes her eyes from Delia as she responds to Angelica.
Lexi: You would like that, wouldn’t you? Picking a fight with me and then calling the cops with your friend to back up whatever story you tell them. No, honey, that’s assault. But, if you’re woman enough, I would be happy to handle this in the ring. The only difference between what Misty did and what I would do, is that Tessa won’t be there to throw under the bus, and I’ll make sure you’re finished for good.
Delia: Do z’ey hand out generic insults at z’e Jealous Janis club meetings? Ugh, we’ve heard it before, so save your brea’s…
Angelica still doesn’t seem too pleased but she doesn’t respond. Tessa walks up to the pair with an empty bag, looking for more papers to hand out, but her eyes lower to the ground the second she sees Lexi standing there. She grunts angrily as she whispers to Angelica. After a silent conversation between the two, Angelica begrudgingly leaves the scene with Tessa taking her place.
Lexi: Hello Tessa. I just wanted to let you know that the offer still stands…
Tessa: Eat shite, skag…
Delia: It seems z’at my girls are not in a good mood today. However, since turning anos’er year older, I have grown wiser, and know how to choose my battles. Simply put, you are not wor’s it. Now, if you would kindly take your leave, we’ve got more important matters to…
Lexi: No, no… I heard that this business directly affected me. That is why I ended my workout early, so that we could come out here and have a little chat about these papers you’re handing out.
Delia tucks the bag with the papers underneath her armpit as if she were concealing them from her. She seems almost defensive over it as her smile fades and turns to something more worrisome.
Delia: Z’ese papers have nos’ing to do wi’s you at all! Now I would kindly beg you to leave before we notify z’e aus’orities…
Lexi: I’m not up on my US law, but I’m pretty sure there is something about unpermitted solicitation, or loitering on private property, so maybe you should call them.
Tessa: Really, Lexi? Why don’t ye just like leave us alone. Delia’s had a shite day and she don’t need ye coming around to make it worse on her with yer jealousy of us. Just move along please, before we get really nasty.
Lexi: It’s a little too late for that…
Tessa goes to talk, but Delia simply flips her hair in Lexi’s direction with a scoff. Tessa allows Delia her time to talk when she sees that Delia is no longer bothered by her presence.
Delia Whatever, z’is conversation is over. Unless you want to start a fight… oh wait, z’ere aren’t more girls around to help you like Cindy Warren, or Roxi, Amy, Jessie, Vixen, and Zuri… Oops, sorry bout it.
Tessa: Not really though el oh el.
Lexi looks over at Tessa with her eyes narrowed in frustration; however she refuses to dignify her words with a response. Instead, she pulls the bag from Delia’s grasp, and pulls out a piece of paper.
Delia: No! But…!
Lexi maneuvers her hands so that Delia doesn’t get the paper from her grasp. She unrolls it and takes a quick look at it before any kindness drains from her face. She stares at it in a mixture of embarrassment and disbelief. She shakes her head slowly as she looks up, and a possible hint of hurt is detected in her eyes.
Lexi: Really? Are you serious? You’re really doing this?
Tessa: Yer damn right we are. We needed a good laugh after the last couple of weeks, so we thought we’d start with the biggest joke of ‘em all…
Tessa’s words have a sting to them as she spits venom at Lexi. However, Delia doesn’t seem to be very happy with the outcome of this as Lexi crumples the paper up. She throws it into a nearby waste bin as she keeps her eyes locked on Delia.
Lexi: Wow, this is really, really low, even for you, Delia…
Delia: What can I say? I’m willing to do almost anys’ing to make a name for myself…
Lexi: Obviously. And of all the things you’ve done over your career, all of the despicable acts, you resort to that? I hoped that maybe there was some good in you, and that everything these other girls were saying about you wasn’t true, but I guess I was wrong.
Delia: Yes, I guess you were…
Lexi lowers her eyes to the ground as she simply walks off. Delia seems disappointed in herself, but she still doesn’t let it show to Tessa who pats her on the back in a friendly manner. Delia just shakes her head as she turns back to Tessa.
Delia: How… how did she know we were even out here? I don’t get it.
Tessa: Maybe someone inside showed it to her? I don’t honestly know. It’s so messed up th…
Mercedes: Um, Deelz? You might want to check these papers out.
Delia looks across the lot as Mercedes is marching up toward them. She looks confused, because she was sure that she knew what the papers said. She takes the rubber band off of one of the papers and unrolls it slowly. As she looks down at it, her eyes widen and fill with anger. Tessa looks over her shoulder and gasps.
Tessa: Oh my gawd, I thought those papers was supposed to have Lexi on em…
Delia slowly lowers the paper as her anger builds up inside of her. We zoom in to find a picture of Delia, in a rather revealing outfit against a black background with white border. In white text above it, is “Now offering private entertainment packages at affordable prices.†Underneath the photo in slightly smaller print, it reads “There is no deed too dirty for “Double D†Delia Darling…†Delia shakes her fist in anger, causing Mercedes to stay at a safe distance. Delia crumples the paper up and throws it on the ground. She jumps up and down, shrieking at the top of her lungs once again as she stomps it into the ground. Lexi pulls up in her black vehicle, rolling the window down as she lowers her sunglasses to look out at Delia.
Lexi: Good luck on your latest business venture. Oh, and thanks for the heads up…
Delia seems slightly confused, but is still surrounded by her intense anger as she kicks the paper at Lexi. She throws the bag at Lexi’s car as she casually drives off into the distance. Tessa grits her teeth as she shakes her head.
[*Fade*]
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†You let it out honey, you put it in the book! –Gretchen Wieners
In just a few short days, the crowd will fill the Tustin High School Gymnasium in Mesa, Arizona to it’s fullest capacity. Rumor has it that the show sold out weeks ago, though a certain Mean Girl would deny it. Her ego would prefer to lead people to believe that she and her tag partners are the reason it is sold out. People do have a habit of wanting to see what these girls do next, so she might be partially true, but her opponents are top quality, and despite her façade, she is rather nervous about the upcoming match. She has butterflies in the pit of her stomach, and she can’t help but feel that two of the three opponents for the week could make her career, should she defeat them, or break it should they defeat her. In all honesty, she has a respect for all three opponents, but one of them has wounded her pride in the worst way, which is something that this particular opponent knows, and exploits regularly. Therefore, even in the deepest recesses of her mind, she can’t fathom showing Amy Marshall any respect.
We fade into the Tustin High Gymnasium where the ring is completely set up, as well as the ramp. The bleachers are tucked away, and there are no seats surrounding the ringside area whatsoever. Something that is not commonly seen in SCW, is the amount of thought that goes into the true Delia experience. Today, we will see exactly how much work goes into the preparation of such a production, as the ring crew finishes securing the trademark runway that Delia uses during every entrance she makes. We can hear one of the crew members speaking faintly into a walkie talkie before tucking it back into his jean pocket. He and his five assistants lean against the ring as they take a small break. We are expecting to see the full glory of Delia’s custom entrance, along with a beautiful display that reminds us that she is an artist first and foremost. However, there is nothing at all. We are only greeted with the generic chit chat of the ring crew for roughly two full minutes of waiting (im)patiently. Finally, the curtains are thrown to the side as Delia slowly steps through them, a look of demur on her face. Rather than seeing the full theatrical costume that Delia is certain to be wearing, we are met with a shockingly plain Delia. Her straightened chestnut hair is pulled back into a ponytail that bounces behind her as she walks. She is wearing a tight pink Under Armour tank top and tight black sport shorts. She is wearing black elbow and knee pads, as well as a set of wrestling boots. She seems to be walking to music that we cannot hear, thanks to the white earbuds leading to an iPod that is tucked into the elastic band of her shorts. Her mouth moves as she says barely loud enough for us to hear.
Delia: One and two, three, four, and five, and six, and seven, eight!
Though she speaks in a whisper, there is a certain authority to it. She gives a firm twirl, spinning in a full circle on the balls of her heels. She doesn’t seem happy with the twirl, so she takes a few steps back rewinding the music just a little. Planting her feet firmly against the runway, she walks again, in time with the music. She moves her lips once more, but the whisper is much fainter than before. Presumably on eight, she spins around the opposite way before continuing forward. Every move seems to have a purpose as she makes her way to the ropes where she points to an invisible person, and then another. She steps between said people and then spins around. She throws a fist into the air like a rock star, before dropping down into the splits. The ring crew can’t help but take a gander at her well toned, yet rather large backside. Delia doesn’t even notice as she comes up to her knees and then slides her foot over the bottom rope, stepping inside. She walks the length of the ring in her typical runway fashion before stopping. She pulls the earbuds from her ears and then drapes them around her neck. A gruff looking man in his late twenties whistles at Delia, hoping for some sort of reaction from her, whether it is good or bad. Delia stares at him, her eyes cold and calculating before she finally cracks a smirk.
Delia: Jacob, you’re too kind to me sometimes. Z’at is why I only trust you to lead z’e team when setting up my runway.
Jacob: You’re only saying that because I’m a bald, tattooed guy who your mom would never approve of.
Delia: Ah ha, I see you pay attention to Twitter, no?
Jacob smirks as he puffs his chest out. Delia rolls her eyes at him as the others give him a loud ovation in the manliest of ways. Delia walks over to the ropes and leans through, resting her bosom on the middle rope as she plays a rather convincing flirt.
Delia: Would you do me the smallest of favors, Jakie? I have a chair inside of z’e curtains wi’s a book on top of it. Would you please get it for me?
Jacob: What will you do for me if I do?
Delia: I talk to you in public. Is z’at not enough?
The guys around him let out a resounding “OOOOOOOOOH!†as Delia curls the corner of her lips into a smirk. She bats her eyelashes at him playfully before a redness comes to his cheeks and a smile that is hidden under his copper goatee. She reaches out and ruffles his lack of hair before tickling at his chin.
Jacob: You always shut me down, so why should I run around doing favors for you?
Delia: I promise if you do z’is favor for me, I will make it wor’s your while… How about a kiss in front of all of your little buddies?
Jacob thinks about it for a second as his friends laugh. She smiles playfully as Jacob climbs onto the runway, walking as if he weren’t in a hurry, but his pace says otherwise. Within thirty seconds he is rushing down the runway with a pink book tucked under his arm, and a pink steel chair with the Mean Girls Burn Book style logo printed on the back. He comes up to the ring and sets the chair against the ropes before handing the book to Delia. He leans over the ropes and puckers his lips up as the laughs roll in once more. Delia sways her hips seductively as she takes a step closer, wrapping one arm around Jacob’s neck. She leans up, but at the last second, she plants a sweet, friendly kiss on his cheek, causing a boo to come from his friend.
Delia: Z’ere is your kiss, Jacob. You’re welco…
Before she can finish her sentence, Jacob grabs the book from her grasp and holds it up above her head. She gasps in surprise as she tries to grab at it. However, his slight height advantage allows him to keep it away from her.
Jacob: A real kiss, or I keep the book and sell it on eBay.
