"That FUCKING BITCH!”
The lights flash wildly and the fans are at their feet, cheering on Brooklyn in her glorious display of defiance to the Bombshell Champion, hoping that maybe she has put Kittie in her place. Synn is at her side as they head up the entryway to get to the curtains before Kittie changes her mind to dash back down the ramp. Oh, how the urge to do so has nearly taken over about seven times since she has left the ring. She watches as Brooklyn points at her, causing the fans to erupt into a whole new frenzy. Kittie grits her teeth, and she prepares herself to give in and dash back down to the ring. As she turns around to do so, Synn grabs onto her arm.
Synn: Do you want to be stripped of that belt you worked so hard to get, over this rookie?
Kittie: I want to wipe that fucking smile off of her fucking face right now is what I want to do. She is trying to punk me out in my town, in my own back yard! BITCH!
Kittie grits her teeth and mutters many more unflattering terms toward Brooklyn as she raises up her middle finger in Brooklyn’s direction. She takes a deep breath as Synn’s hard, emerald eyes flash so many silent warnings at her that she has no choice but to drop her hand back to her side. She flashes her belt at Brooklyn, who is gesturing that the belt will soon be around her waist. Kittie simply shakes her head in a show of defiance and lowers the belt to her own waist.
Kittie: See where this belt is? It’s around my waist, you dirty junkie. It’s gonna stay there too…
Synn: And if we get you calmed down soon, we will know for sure. Come on, let’s go check on Gabriel.
Kittie slowly drapes the belt over her shoulders and pats it on the back. Synn holds the curtain back for Kittie, and she obliges his request by disappearing from the fans’ sight, into the back. The hallways of the school are darkened as the Climax Control cameras stop rolling. Kittie stops, and leans against the wall, taking a deep breath, the sweat dripping down her face as the adrenaline rush slowly subsides. She wipes at her face with her bare hands. Just then, she is startled by the sound of a deep voice booming from behind the curtains.
Security Guard: We need to get this one out of here. She might have reversed my vasectomy with that kick…
Kittie prepares to stand her ground, refusing to leave the arena without checking on her fallen friend, Gabriel. As she slowly turns toward the curtains, several security guards come marching through, crowded around someone, who soon becomes apparent as one of the other Bombshells from the Main Event match. The feminine grunting and growling is no match for this group as they maintain a firm grip on her. Kittie clinches her fists and Synn readies himself to have to intervene once more. In the few seconds of passing, Kittie felt like it had been minutes. She watches as the feisty raven haired Misty struggles just a little less. The guards slowly disband, and Synn loosens his tense posture just a bit. Misty sees Kittie standing there, and their eyes flare up for just an instant Kittie’s lips slowly curl into a smile, and her eyes lighten up. Misty gets a prideful smile as they start to round the corner. She winks at Kittie, and the two begin to laugh, at first a light chuckle, but it soon turns into a full out, pack of hyena’s style laughter.
As if for just one second, Misty and Kittie’s problems had disappeared, and they had an entire conversation that neither would remember in an hour. Their war had been brutal, and while it is nowhere near over, they had shared a moment of completely selfish of one another. Kittie turns her smiling face to Synn, who extends his hand to her to lead her down the hallway before the other two Bombshells come back.
As they twist through the hallways, Kittie is approached by Ms. Rocky Mountains. She smiles politely as she holds the microphone in her hand, ready to get a few words with her.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: Kittie, can I get a few words from you regarding the events we just saw take place after Climax Control?
Kittie looks over to Synn, taking a deep breath. He looks up at the clock hanging just underneath the Convention Center trophy case. He looks to her and nods as he walks off, watching Kittie’s seemingly calm demeanor. She pats her championship belt, lulling it to sleep.
Kittie: Well, are you just going to stand there, or are you going to ask the burning questions on everyone’s mind?
Kittie snaps, ending her inquiry with a snappy, sarcastic tone. She rolls her eyes as she looks down, shushing the Bombshell Championship as she bops up and down with it. Ms. Rocky Mountains clears her throat as she looks over to the camera. She puts her infamous smile on as she turns between Kittie and the cameraman. She awaits the cue, and then she begins.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: Hello fans of Sin City Wrestling. I am standing here with Bombshell Champion, the feisty Kittie Staggs, following the Blaze of Glory preview match where Kittie is challenged by Raynin, Misty, and Brooklyn Carter. The action exploded inside of the ring tonight, but what has the community really talking are the events that followed this match up.
She turns her look from the camera over to Kittie, who is mimicking Ms. Mountains’ bubbly personality with exaggerated facial expressions of joy and a dance that is meant to do the same, but instead has her looking like she is going through an epileptic seizure. Ms. Mountains tries to maintain her composure as she continues.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: You were teamed with the hot up and comer, Brooklyn Carter to face off against Raynin and your friend Misty…
Kittie’s eyes widen and she holds up her hand, just an inch from her interviewer’s face. Her jaw drops down, and she gasps at the audacity. Ms. Mountains puts the microphone toward Kittie. Kittie leans down slowly, as if she were in pure shock.
Kittie: Okay, so… I’m not even going to expand upon the fact that you think Brooklyn is an “up and comer”. She is more like “crash and burner”. What I just… CANNOT get over is the fact that everyone thinks Misty and I are friends. Everyone keeps talking like Misty and I are the bestest of friends, but that could not even be further from the truth!
Ms. Rocky Mountains: You both looked pretty friendly out there tonight, teaming up against your opponents.
Kittie: Are you fucking retarded, lady? I mean, you are supposed to be this ground breaking journalist around here, and you don’t have your facts straight when you come at me. Facts… It’s more like common knowledge. I mean, did you even watch the damned show over the last four months? Come on, seriously. Answer my question.
Kittie rips the microphone from Ms. Mountains’ hand and she almost pokes her lips with it, trying to get a serious answer from her. She sputters and attempts to answer the question, but as soon as she makes a peep, Kittie puts her hand in Ms. Mountain’s face, quieting her.
Kittie: You obviously have not. I, Kittie, have messed up Misty’s back, stolen the Bombshell Championship from her, officially beaten her in a grueling battle for the belt, talked all kinds of trash on the selfish bitch, and all but said I can’t stand her fucking, lying guts. Wait, I even did that. So, where do you get off even thinking in that little head of yours that we are friends? Sure, we had a fleeting moment of mutual respect for each other for shutting up those other two loudmouthed bitches so that these two loudmouthed bitches could show the little girls why we rule the Bombshell Division. I am first, and she is second. That’s how it has been since the day this place opened, and that is how it is going to be until I decide that I don’t want to be the top bitch anymore. That’s going to be a lonnnnnng time!
Kittie sputters into the microphone as she hands it back over to Ms. Mountains. She looks over to Kittie and makes sure she has a moment to speak. Kittie shakes her head in disbelief.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: Right, so after you and Brooklyn won the match…
Kittie: That’s right… ME… and Brooklyn… As in, I carried her ass through that entire freaking match!
Ms. Rocky Mountains: … she came up to confront you about cheating her out of the pinfall victory.
Kittie: I don’t know what match you were watching, but Brooklyn was about to ruin it for us. Who climbs the top rope when you got the match in the bag already? That is like asking them to move out of the way and there goes our victory. See, I am a veteran of the ring, and I know what is best. I know how to win matches, because I have been doing it since I got here, save a fluke loss for the Bombshell Championship. She should have came up to me to THANK me for not kicking her ass and leaving her to get pinned by those dumbass broads, Misty or Raynin. She should have gotten down on her knees and kissed my ASS!
Kittie turns around and gives her butt a slap, pointing at it to emphasize her point. She puckers her lips and kissing the air before she chuckles.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: From the way it looked, she was just going to ask why you stole her thunder. Why did you steal her thunder?
Kittie: I did nothing of the kind. I already explained she was going to choke. I had enough of playing her little girl games. I tried to be nice for just a few minutes so that she could see that she chose the wrong profession, and then I wouldn’t have to worry about dealing with another chick that has no idea what she’s doing in the ring. She should be happy to ride my coattails for a night, because I showed her what it’s like to beat a real threat. And I do mean I showed her how it is done, as you saw.
Kittie nods her head as she rubs the front of the title belt, caressing it as she would a baby’s back. She leans back, rocking it gently as she begins muttering things to herself in rapid succession. Her facial expressions change rapidly as she does so.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: Whether or not things went down the way you saw them, all three of your challengers, as well as yourself, made a major impression on the fans. They are all anxiously awaiting your match in three weeks at Blaze of Glory. Have we seen the dynamics of this match in the aftermath of this evening’s match?
Kittie: What the hell do you mean by that? Do you mean to ask if I’m going to beat the hell out of Brooklyn? If so, then the answer is yes. If you are asking if that will be the extent of it, then the answer is no. I’m going to rip her disgusting two dollar weave from her nappy ass head, and send her home crying into her Christian Dior handbag. But I will not stay focused solely on her, even though she pissed me off.
Ms Rocky Mountains: I was getting at a possible alliance between you and Misty. You have stated that you are not friends, but there is no denying that you are both familiar with each other from countless battles, some working with each other, and the rest working against each other. Will we see this play into the Four Corners match?
Kittie: Not intentionally, no. Misty and I have a deep seeded hatred for each other, which is why I don’t understand why anyone would think we are still friends. She is a backstabber, and I will not, at any point, completely trust her. Not only that, but we are still opponents, no matter how you slice it. There are no teams in this Four Corners match. You obviously saw how it worked out when they tried to put us in teams. It didn’t.
Ms Rocky Mountains: Now, Kittie. We know your… opinions of Misty and Brooklyn. You have left no room for misinterpretation. You have surprisingly neglected to mention your opponent from just a few weeks ago, Raynin. You two battled it out in an amazing display of athleticism. Many are touting it as one of the best Bombshell matches that defines the talent of the division. You cannot deny that.
Kittie nods her head in a sort of modesty. She shrugs her shoulders gently before she brings the Bombshell Championship down into her arms, coddling it against her bosom. She takes a deep breath and then she cracks a smile as she exhales.
Kittie: Yeah, I really did put on quite the show. I was amazing. She tried, but in the end, she fell flat on her back, for the 1… 2… 3! I mean, I can understand that people want to bring her up, because she trained with the luchas and she is super secretive. She’s kinda hot too, because she reminds me of a dude. But the fact is that she takes herself too serious for what she is. A bland, existential butch. I saw thousands of her standing in line for the Lilith Fair back in the 90’s. Just because she hawks loogies like a dude, grabs at her crotch like a dude, and dresses like a dude in a sports bra, doesn’t mean that she is as tough as she likes people to think. The only reason that match was so great was because I was in it. Plain and simple.
Kittie turns away from the camera, as she whispers more. It is unclear is the whispering is to her “baby” or to herself. She nods her head furiously as the pitch of her low voice fluctuates pitches. Ms Mountains is hesitant to continue, but she decides to proceed anyway.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: So, the world really wants to know about the match, but everyone is dying to hear about your involvement with The Seven Deadly Sins. Would you care to comment on this?
Kittie: Not that is it any of their business, or yours for that matter, but I have learned many things from them already, and I have just gotten started. We have a world renowned Women’s Champion who can wrestle half of these bimbos into the ground in her sleep, but even that would be a waste of her time. Not to…
Ms Rocky Mountains: This is the woman who you have mentioned several times, around the beginning of Sin City Wrestling’s days, as being a tramp, and an “old talentless hag” among many other defamatory comments.
Kittie turns around toward Ms. Mountains and her face is twisted into a snarl as she digs points a finger at Ms. Mountain’s ample bosom. She hisses in an angry manner to cover up the fact that she has been busted.
Kittie: SHUT UP!
Kittie lowers her head, allowing her long blonde locks to cover up her face. She growls words to herself as she bangs herself against the side of her head, even grabbing a chunk of her hair. As she pulls her fingers away, she wiggles her fingers to rid them of the loose strands of golden and red hair.
Kittie: She is a legend. You’re stupid, Ms Lumpy Silicon. Every member of the Seven Deadly Sins is a decorated champion. We are the elite, the be-all and end-all. Screw those idiotic New X-Treme’s and the constant nonsense coming from Misty’s mouth about being the “Golden Standard”. Bullshit! I am growing as a wrestler just being around them. Does that answer suffice?
She lifts her head up to show off her sparkling eyes from under the mesh of messy hair. Her shallow breaths blow the pieces around as her chest heaves. She clutches the belt close to her now, hunching over it, despite the fact that her head in still tilted back.
Ms Rocky Mountains: It certainly does. I thank you for your time tonight, and send my wishes for a speedy recovery to Gabriel.
Kittie: You can’t have my baby… I’m not going to let you.
Ms. Mountains nods her head toward the camera as Kittie takes a defensive step backward. She leans against the wall.
Kittie: Everyone is trying to take her away from me. They alllllll want her, but I’m her mommy. I’m going to protect her with my life. They won’t get her. You won’t Ms. Mountains. Misty can’t take her. She says she will, but she won’t. Brooklyn can’t have her. Raynin can’t have her. No one can. Only me.
Kittie laughs as Ms. Mountains does her best to appear nonchalant as she quickly makes her way from Kittie. Kittie slides down the wall, wrapping her arms around the belt, hugging it tightly as she sways side to side with it. She makes strange sounds as she guards the belt with everything she has. The camera fades…
**************************************************
February 13th, 2012
Dear Synn,
I wanted to write you to tell you how grateful I am that you have opened up your arms to welcome me into the Seven Deadly Sins. You opened up your home to me in the most gracious of ways, and I am very, very grateful for that. Words cannot even express how happy it makes me feel, knowing that there is somewhere I finally belong. One day, I could be another one of the lost souls, who wandered around, trying to find my niche in the world of professional wrestling.
I am sure you don’t remember the days when I was just a lowly valet, picking up the mess my boys left. Those were the days of lifting up a leg onto the bottom rope to break up a pin attempt. It was a time when I would climb up onto the ring apron, and flash my pretty eyes, and my lovely tastykakes, to their opponents so that they could sneak a schoolboy pin. I would distract the referee with those same tactics so that he didn’t see me kicking a chair under the bottom rope so that my man could clobber his opponent and pick up another cheap win. You were there, but I was a nothing then.
Ohhh, but I was something. If it weren’t for me, and a nasty case of drugged sodomy, Spike Staggs would still be a nothing, because he was one of the men that I helped put over, along with Apocalypse. But those days of making shit wrestlers look better by bulking up their otherwise abysmal Win/Loss records had gone on for way too long. Cheating one man out of a hard fought victory, just so that another could pick up a win started to seem self defeating. I should have been the one in that ring cheating others out of their rightful victories so that I could get ahead. But they made me feel like I belonged.
I honestly thought I belonged with them, because they needed me around. Feeling needed made everything feel better. I am sure you understand what it is like to be needed, don’t you? That IS the motivation behind your relationship with Sean Williams, isn’t it? He is a drug abuser who would be a total junkie loser if he didn’t have you to clean up his messes… Pay a few bills… Sweet kid, that Sean. Oh, when you see him, ask him how my bubbies belt is doing. Is he keeping it warm at night and feeding him properly? He better, if you enjoy his genitalia…
What? Oh yeah, there was a point. You know what it is like to be needed. Just like I am sure, between us, you know what it is like to need someone. It is okay, it is just between us. That feeling of vulnerability and insignificance eats you up inside, especially when you don’t have the money to buy acquaintances and luxuries. There was a time when I felt distracted from all of that, by the arena lights, and the cheering fans who loved seeing that little 19 year old naïve girl shaking her shit down by the ring with that airhead hair bob thing. But it was not enough for me.
Allow me to move forward just a little bit when I decided I was going to start doing a little something for myself. I trained a little bit, and went after the first spandex clad broad that got in my way. I had my cute schoolgirl plaid skirts and my punk rock ties, and that pretty little bad girl thing going on, all while strutting down to the ring to “One Hand In My Pocket”. I lost, and lost, and lost… and lost. Each time I lost, I felt more and more alone. And one day, I just tried to assert myself at a make up table, because I was there first dammit! I WAS THERE FIRST!!! DO YOU HEAR ME BITCH? FIRRRRRST!
So, you probably wonder where I am going with this story of mine, don’t you? Well, when she put my pretty little face through the mirror, and I went back home, I needed someone to be there for me. Instead, I got cheated on, and made to feel like your typical eye candy skank. I felt like a cheap gimmick who didn’t even have her good looks to rely on anymore, because I had two hundred and eighteen stitches in my fucking face! Looks mater when you are trying to be a sex kitten.
That is when there was no denying that I was envious of all the other girls, with their pretty hair, and their pretty manicured nails, and their PRETTY OUTFITS! And their PRETTY CHAMPIONSHIP BELTS! I tried so hard to deny it. I cancelled my breast augmentation appointment, and I ripped out my pretty pink weaved streaks. I cut up my skirts, and I learned to sew dammit! I was going to be everything these bitches weren’t, and I was going to prove to them that I was better than them by taking everything away from them.
I took away their pretty hair by ripping it from their skulls. I took away their pretty nails by breaking their fingers and cracking their nails. I ripped off their pretty outfits to expose their grotesque man arms and hideous rolls. I was not envious of them, though. Ohhh what a lie that was. They still had their pretty little championship belts. But every time I tried to take it away from them, they eluded me. They proved to the world that I was still irrelevant, and it pissed me off more and more and more each and every day.
I came here to Sin City Wrestling to get what was coming to me for all of my hard work, and I was going to do it as a changed woman. I was still going to be the ruthless bitch I always was, even as a valet to a two-bit hack like Surge. I was going to do it with finesse. Misty and I were going to dominate anyone and everyone who got in our way, even each other. But we were going to have the fans behind us, and we were going to do it right. Nothing ever happens the way you plan, does it?
So, Misty and I shook hands, and we went on our separate ways, not speaking, or seeing each other until we met in the ring at High Stakes. When we saw each other, we knew we were going to take out all these other bitches (and Fantasia), and be the last two standing. This was the one thing that went according to plan. But, instead of me walking out as Sin City Wrestling’s first ever Bombshell Champion, Misty did instead. I tried to be happy for her, and wish her well, but I just couldn’t. Seeing her with the belt and the glory just made me feel like a total heel… And while I hated the fact that she had my belt, I loved the feeling of taking out my frustrations on her and having the fans hate me for it.
That is when the envy came rushing back like a Freight Train (not the little Casey that could…) and it knocked me back about five years. Only, instead of denying it, I’ve embraced it. I went out and I took what should have been mine in the first place, and I made it official at December 2 Dismember. I decimated Misty, and it felt sooooo damn goooooood, Synn. Every second of it. I took your bit of advice the night I took that belt, and I used it to officially capture it, and then I went on to make you proud by retaining it against Raynin. I’m sure that she is a bit sore about it, but she can take it up with me at Blaze of Glory if she is still raw.
I really should thank you for helping me to find my limit though. I was seconds away from ripping out that pretty cherry red hair from Brooklyn’s pretty little head and choking her with that cheap plastic. If it weren’t for you grabbing me up and carrying me to the back, I would have done something I would have regretted… Actually, no I still intend on ending that miserable little trash heap. I will just do it to prove to the world that I can take on the top three women at once, and still retain my title. I just might double Misty’s pathetic reign. Had you not pulled me off of Brooklyn, then she wouldn’t have seen the next day, and my glorious defense would be cheapened by the fact that I will have beaten two women that I have already defeated multiple times. With Brooklyn in the mix, it adds a certain sense of… poetic justice, don’t you think?
I have you to thank, Synn. You are the one who told me that I had it in me, and that I was the only one truly stopping me from achieving my dream of being a true Champion. I believed in myself, but I liked the chase. I knew I could have a championship belt any time I wanted to have one, but I didn’t know that I could be a real, honorable, fighting champion. I am more than just a pretty face, Synn. I am more than just another hot piece shaking her stuff like a stripper for title shots. I am a ruthless fighter, and I have proved that, more than ever, since I stepped foot into Sin City Wrestling. I owe a lot to you, because now, I am a ruthless fighter who holds the championship belt. It is all thanks to one piece of advice that you gave me. You know what I’m talking about, right? Sure you do.
You are great, and The Seven Deadly Sins are great. Pure greatness. Not just in the sense of skilled, decorated former champions and fierce contenders, but as people. Each one, a unique fighter, like myself, who will put everything on the line to maintain honor and respect. But, sadly, that is the only piece that we have in common. Everyone who was there before me, they actually belong there, and they have earned their spot in your family. I have never really traveled with a pack before, and I don’t know that I can start now. I am a lone wolf, and I learned that over the last few weeks, especially after the January twenty-ninth edition of Climax Control.
I just don’t belong anywhere, and I never have. That is why, respectfully, I have to back out now. It breaks my heart, but I just… can’t. I can’t do it. One thing that I have always learned is that those who you trust, and let into your heart, they rip it out and stomp all over it. I really enjoy having this picture perfect idea of The Sins as rough, dark, beautiful, glamorous, open-minded, welcoming, warm, psychotic, sociopathic, friendly, loving, caring, honest, vicious, ruthless, loyal… great people. It is the one and only beacon of hope that I have, and I can’t bare the thought of changing that when you realize that I am too much to handle. Then you will kick me out, because you realize it was a mistake, and that I don’t belong. I don’t react well to situations like that, as you might have noticed by Misty’s brain scans and x-rays.
I am writing you this in the deepest of sincerity. I know you think I’m a little bit unhinged, and that I might just be imagining things. What opened my eyes to this was the night we spent in the hospital with Gabriel. While we were in the waiting room, I felt like the black sheep of the black sheep. After my interview with Ms. Mountains, I entered, and saw everyone partnered up… Despy with Angel, you with Rage, and Shane with Fantasia… I just felt that same loneliness. I felt like a piece of the puzzle that just didn’t fit. I felt it like any other group I have tried to co-exist with. No matter how much you try to push that piece into the empty place, it just doesn’t fit. I think it might be just another tragic case…
I want to let you know that I will take every piece of advice you and Fantasia have given me, and I will make you proud against these silly tricks. I feel more confident now, and I hope that maybe one day, I will be ready to enter your ranks for real.
Ever so sincerely,
-Kittie
”Bollocks!”
Kittie yawns as she rubs at her eyes. Her hair is a mess, and she attempts to act like she cares by running her fingers through it, brushing it off to the side. She stretches out as she steps aside from the door. She waves in the visitor as she attempts to wake up still. She walks over and plops down onto the white plush couch, running her fingers over her fleece pajama bottoms scattered in skulls with pink bows and crossbones. She looks back over to the tall, tan, and perfectly toned body of “Sxxxy” Shane Boswell, who almost refuses to enter the apartment. Kittie turns her head to the television.
Shane: What in the bloody hell are you trying to pull with this letter? Make him feel guilty cause you’re antisocial? Oh, and ungrateful? Because I know you ain’t serious.
Kittie yawns once again, fluttering her eyes as she slowly turns her attention back to the door. She stares at him for a moment, watching his jaw clinch. She growls at him
Kittie: If you’re not going to come in, then leave. It’s rude and inconsiderate. Some of us struggle to pay our bills, and you think we can heat the outside? ONE… or the OTHER!
A jolt of adrenaline courses through her veins, waking her up enough for her to become herself again. Shane swallows his pride just enough to allow him to enter the apartment, but not without slamming the door shut. In his hand, he holds the letter that Kittie had written to Synn, and he lays it down on the coffee table gently.
Shane: Letter… explain.
Kittie: Dammit, what do you want me to say? I fit the bill of Envy, but I don’t fit in with the family. If you committed mail fraud by opening up the letter, then I assume you read it. In that case, you should know all about it.
Shane looks over to the spot on the couch next to Kittie, and he is offput by the fact that a pizza box had been there before Kittie kicked it off to the floor. He opts to remain standing, but not without firmly planting his hands on the table in front of Kittie. He hunches over so to be within a reasonable distance from her face so that he gets his point across.
Shane: Let’s get one thing straight. I didn’t come here to beg ya to stay. I could give two shits really. What we got to get straight is that Synn put his nads on the line offering you a spot with the Sins. Do you want him to know that ya just going to smash them? Not a smart move. I know you got two properly working brain cells in that pretty little head of yours. Use them.
Kittie grits her teeth, and she shoot up from her seat, standing up to Shane. He chuckles as he slowly stands up in his Adonis-like pose. Kittie’s features soften just a bit, but her words do not, as usual.
Kittie: Listen up, you cocky prick! I meant no disrespect at all. I meant that I don’t think I fit in.
Shane: Do you think any of us make sense together? Just look at us. We are all mashed up puzzle pieces, but we fit together to make the perfect picture. Every one of us made ourselves fit. If you really want to, you will do the same.
Kittie takes a deep breath, her eyes still on fire, but she slowly nods her head. Shane winks at her and then he picks up the letter and hands it back to Kittie. He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out three folders. He slaps them down on her coffee table.
Shane: Like I said, I didn’t come over here to make you change ya mind. I came here to make you use it. If you still feel this way, I suggest you take the letter to Synn yourself. If not, then no harm done. This will be the last time we have this conversation.
Kittie nods her head again. She takes a look down at the letter, glancing over the pages. She stares at it for just a moment before tearing it in half. Shane watches as she does so, and then he lets out a genuine smile that is as brief as this moment of Kittie’s sanity. She tosses the torn paper down to the ground, and she walks over to Shane and gives him a hug. She whispers into his chest “thank you” as he pats her back.
Shane: Now study up on these broads. They’re tough, but nothing a Sin can’t handle.
Kittie: I’ve already murdered Misty and Raynin several times, and Brooklyn got just a taste of what she is in for at Blaze of Glory.
Shane: I saw that. I counted eight security guards to pull you two apart. I was impressed. For a little thing, you got a lot of fight in you. Piss and vinegar.
Kittie: Brooklyn wanted to run her mouth, and she wanted to showboat, so I had to put the rookie back in her place. I wasn’t about to let her put a second loss on my nearly perfect record. She put her hands on me, and I lost it. I smacked the bitch up! Come Blaze of Glory, she will know her place is at the bottom with the other rookies.
Shane: Don’t say it. Do it. What am I saying, I know you will. Still a Sin?
Kittie: Still a sin!
Kittie smirks as Shane stands there, slowly applauding her. Kittie walks over to the couch and picks up her Bombshell Championship. The camera gets a close up on her face as she looks down at the belt.
Kittie: You’re not going anywhere baby girl…
{{FaDE}}
