[Delia Darling]

  >[*Scene One – It’s All Part of the Plan!*]

“Our face is our identity.  It is how we connect with the world around us.  People have a need to connect, so I’ve developed a second face for them to connect with.“ –Delia, darling if you must

*Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah…*

There is a clashing of voices inside of Delia’s head as she plays it over all at once.  Every segment from Climax Control.  Every Tweet since Violent Conduct II.  Every word, every, syllable, every letter seems to stream through her head all at once.  This was like the reverse of the Burn Book done on audio from every favorite SCW star and Bombshell.  Gene Banton Junior, Misty, Necra Octavian Kane, and Roxi Johnson… just to name a few… were among the voices racing through Delia’s mind rapidly, and on repeat.  So many war threats.  So many mentions of the word “luck”.  So much hate rained down on the Mean Girls, as well as Delia personally.  With how often the Mean Girl tries to make people angry, you would think that she would be happy about this, but she isn’t.  Happy would not be the word to describe it as the usual demur has been wiped off of her face.  There is a blank, zoned out look upon her face as she sits down in a furry pink chair.  We pan out slightly to see that she is spread out across it casually.  She runs her fingers through her brunette hair, still done up in curls from Climax Control, despite the fact that they have made a trip back to Los Angeles.

“War…”

“Luck…”

“Wager… first defense…”

Delia narrows her eyes as she purses her lips together tightly, looking as if she is about to scream.  However, instead of screaming, she lets out a laugh.  â€œHappy” might not have been the right word, because something along the lines of “elated” or “ecstatic” would be much more fitting.  She tilts her head back as the sound of a cork popping can be heard off in the distance.  We pan out further to see that Delia is seated in the Mean Girls clubhouse with all current Mean Girls present.  Alex Jeffries, better known as Holly Wood on stage, has popped a bottle open as he pours it over a pyramid of glasses.  Mercedes has just finished touching up her make up in one of the many mirrors, while Angelica and Tessa talk while wheeling out trays of snacks, a variety of vegetables and low fat dip… I mean, why not?  It’s a celebration!  Though, you wouldn’t know it the way Veronica is storming about.  She has ripped down a poster from the wall, leaving a bare spot on the pink walls.  She tears the lengthy poster to shreds as she throws it on the ground.  She pulls a marker out and walks over to another wall that sports the same posters, only in place of the bare spot, there is a poster of Liz Smalls.  Veronica pulls a black sharpie pen from her pocket and she begins to alter Liz’s face some, drawing the dirtiest looking mustache and goatee that she can on such short notice.  She’s prepared to write her own Burn Book Entry on Liz directly on the feature wall itself when Delia speaks up.

Delia:  Five G’s, darling… Good Gawd Girl Getta Grip!  I mean, it is because of her z’at you have twice as much gold as Mercedes and myself, no?

Veronica:  That whiny little ba… BITCH…she could have stopped me from getting embarrassed out there.  I mean, I hate to tell you girls that I told you so, but… Sorry bout it.

Alex:  You coulda stopped it too by not getting locked in a submission hold, hun-ty.

Veronica turns around and glares a hole through Alex.  The room goes quiet as everyone stares at the situation that has just arisen.  Everyone seems to be shocked, or trying to act as if they can’t believe that Alex has just said this, except for Delia, who has a wicked smirk on her face as she waits for the fireworks to start.

Veronica:  Don’t make me slap the taste out of your mouth, ladyboy!  You are still on my shit list for what you said about me after Violent Conduct, and unless you want to see a real bitch appear before your very eyes, I suggest you shut up, unless it is to apologize to me!

Alex:  Too late, sweetheart…

Alex raises his eyebrows as he turns away from her.  He acts as if he is trying to keep it under his breath, but he obviously meant for this one to be heard as there is a mysterious “oooooooh!” that has come from at least two of the other Mean Girls.  Veronica balls her fists up and takes three steps toward Alex when the tallest Mean Girl wraps her arms around Veronica’s waist, stopping her and pulling her back about ten feet.

Angelica:  Girl, it’s not even worth it.  MEN aren’t lucky enough to escape their shitty, irrational moods after a week..

Angelica practically drags Veronica over to the balcony doors where they disappear.  Delia sighs as she uncrosses her legs and stands up from her chair.  She walks over to where Alex is standing, and she grabs the first glass of pink champagne, letting the bubbles tickle her nose for a second before taking a small sip.  Mercedes grabs one as well while Tessa inches her way over toward the door to eavesdrop on the other conversation.  Mercedes downs the flute glass and slams it back down like a frat boy asking for more. Alex smirks and pours her some more before raising his glass in the air.

Alex:  Everyone wanted to say that Mean Girls winning was a fluke.  The only fluke that SCW saw was that this didn’t happen so much fucking sooner…

Mercedes:  Amen to that, sister!

Alex:  Liz might be gone, but she is not forgotten, and like it or not, she was part of this movement during the biggest part of it, and she did help us get yet another belt.  If not for her, then we wouldn’t be toasting to this occasion here today.  Can we give a toast to Liz?

Mercedes:  Yes, of c…

Delia clears her throat loudly as she glares with her deep, dark brown eyes, stopping Mercedes dead in her tracks, though it is more out of intrigue than it is of fear of retaliation.  Delia narrows her eyes as she stares at Alex, letting her nostrils flare out some.  Alex raises an eyebrow as his mouth opens, ready to speak.  Delia shakes her head from side to side, warning him not to make another peep before she finally speaks.

Delia:  Liz was a part of z’e plan, and nos’ing more.  Lets not glorify her for more z’an she actually was, okay?

Alex:  What the…?

Delia rolls her eyes as she opens her mouth, sliding her tongue back and forth over her bottom lip, trying to think of the most polite way to say what she has to say.  Mercedes chuckles as if she somehow caught wind of what Delia was thinking, while Alex is still in shock.

Delia:  What z’e what?  Did you actually s’ink z’at she was my best friend?  After what we went s’rough in z’e beginning?  Girl, please…  Liz was nos’ing more z’an a whining, sniveling attention whore, emphasis on WHORE…

Mercedes:  I’m hearing it, but I don’t think I actually believe it yet.  Could you repeat that for me?

Delia:  Liz Smalls served her purpose.  She had a certain base of followers who were beneficial to us, whes’er z’ey loved us or hated us, or in many cases, bo’s.

Delia shrugs her shoulders as she traces her hair line, gently pushing one of hr curled bangs back behind her ear.  She bats her eyelashes, as if she is about to drop a major truth bomb on the crowd before her.

Delia:  When I hated her, people loved us.  When I loved her, z’ey hated us.  And z’ey hated us even more because we “pretended” to hate her, only to let her join, and parade her and her problems around on a bigger stage.  I got back to New York where I made some contacts, s’anks to my short time in Uncensored as her manager.

As if her intentions have just become clear, when they should have been clear the whole time, Delia winks to Alex and Mercedes.  She gives a gentle nudge to Mercedes before doing the same to Alex.

Delia:  In exchange for doing exactly what I said I would do in officially ruining Liz Smalls, I double crossed people, which brings us to a completely new level of controversy.  Controversy sells, and now we have more money coming in, and we have everyone talking about us.

Delia looks from Mercedes to Alex with a wide smirk on her face, a new level of evil genius having just been achieved.  She waves her long, wavy pony tail around behind her, making sure that it is flowing perfectly before she seems to lock attention with both at the same time.

Delia:  So, instead of toasting Liz for being a pawn in my little game… why don’t we toast to z’e evil genius who orchestrated z’is whole s’ing?  To Delia FUCKING Darling, for being such a stone cold bitch…

Delia extends her glass forward as both stare at her, unknowingly, and admittedly still in quite a bit of shock.  Delia widens her eyes and scoffs that they don’t immediately clanks glasses with her.  She rolls her eyes at Alex and looks directly to Mercedes.

Delia:  Who said z’at you were z’e only one allowed to be cold and calculated, darling? Call me Black Mamba if you like…

Mercedes smiles as she can’t help but toast the dirtiest trick she’s seen in quite some time.  There is a genuine respect for the egocentrics displayed by Delia, something that perhaps could rival her own.  Both ladies look to Alex, who looks pained at what he’s just heard.  He hesitates until Delia grabs onto his wrist firmly, pulling his hand forward to clank glasses against his will.  He lowers his eyes to the ground as the two ladies take a taste of their champagne, sharing a laugh as Alex just shakes his head.  He takes a sip from his glass, but it is not one to remember… it is one that he hopes will make him forget what he’s just heard.  Instead, it sours his stomach.  However, Tessa squeals from across the room as she charges forward, leaping onto Delia’s back, which annoys her until she covers Delia’s face in kisses.

Tessa:  Ye wasn’t lying, then?!  I knew ye didn’t like the bloody fuckin’ prat!

Delia straightens up her posture, holding up Tessa’s weight as if it weren’t anything.  She finally sighs in annoyance, though it is only for show as her face glows with pride.  Tessa smacks Delia on her backside as if they were football teammates and Delia just scored the winning goal for their team.  Delia raises an eyebrow as she places a hand in Tessa’s face.

Tessa:  No joke.. I fuckin’ hated that bird with every fiber of me being.  I wanted to slap her any time she opened her disgustingly deformed beak and…

Alex:  Tessa, would you please shut the hell up?  I guess I was the only one here who actually cared about Liz.  But then again, I was the one who got her clean, and helped cure her eating disorder by making her eat a damn burger while Delia got all the credit for playing nice on Twitter.

Delia:  To be fair, darling, wi’s z’e trouble Liz got into on Twitter, I had two full time jobs on my hand wi’s z’at one…

Tessa and Mercedes chuckle at Delia’s quip, but Alex only narrows his eyes before doing the unthinkable.  He splashes his glass of champagne in Delia’s face, ruining her perfectly done make up, and getting Tessa and Mercedes with some side splash.  Alex drops the glass to the ground before turning to leave the room.

Delia:  Um, ex-CUSE YOU BITCH!  Who do you s’ink you are?

Alex turns around only long enough to shoot Delia the dirtiest look she has seen since convincing Misty’s daughter to sit through a Burn Book entry about her beloved step mother.  Alex lets it linger for a moment before letting out an angry chuckle.

Alex:  I know who I am.  I’m the most fabulous out of this entire group because I’m beautiful on the inside and out.  That is more than any of you can say, only I didn’t see it until now.  So, I think you might want to let Veronica know she can take down my poster too, or draw mustaches on it…

Delia blinks for a second as she takes everything in.  However, as Alex trails off and turns back around toward the door, Delia opens her mouth, letting out a dramatic “uhhhh” to emphasize what she’s about to say now…

Delia:  Too late… there is already a mustache on your poster hun-TY…

Delia chuckles while the others seem uncomfortable.  Alex shakes in anger as he pauses, thinking about rebutting, but he walks over toward the door and flings it open, taking his leave toward the private elevator just outside of the suite.  Delia looks over to Tessa and Mercedes with a deadly serious look on her face.

Delia:  If you two agree wi’s Mr. Jeffries, he has just shown you where z’e door is.  I don’t want to see one of you leave in a week, or in a mon’s.  If you didn’t know who I was when you joined, z’en you have just been re-introduced.  If you harbor any bad feelings, by all means, walk out of z’at door.  No hard feelings.  No wars, because I’ve got enough of z’em right now.  Liz is gone now, so I refuse to let Mean Girl be seen as a joke.

Delia stares both of them down with a sinister look.  Mercedes’ look of shock fades to one of joy, sighing in relief as she takes another sip of her champagne.  She looks over to Tessa who seems to be twiddling her thumbs, thinking it over carefully.  Delia intensifies her look, causing Tessa to quickly pick up a glass, taking a sip of her own.

Delia:  Anyone?  Z’e “no war” clause expires in like ten seconds, ladies…

Mercedes:  If anything, I actually respect you more now than ever.  You can count on me sticking around for the long haul.

Delia:  Tessa?

Tessa has just taken another sip, but she nods her head and mumbles something into her glass.  Delia’s sinister look breaks and a instantly turns to that of pure joy.  She claps her hands together, lacing her fingers as she turns around toward the stereo.

Delia:  Excellent!  Now, what kind of party is z’is z’at we don’t have any music playing… Shall we revisit “Champion” by RuPaul?

Delia begins rattling off other songs and artists that she favors as Mercedes and Tessa share a “wow” expression before turning to follow after Delia.  Delia picks up an iPod that is connected to the stereo as she cues up music.
[*Fade*]




>[*Scene Two – Relaxation*]

“Every now and then, you need to take time for yourself.  All work and no play makes Delia a dull girl.“ –Delia, darling if you must


We can hear the soft, sensual moaning coming from inside of a hotel suite in Waco, Texas.  The lights are all off inside of the room, but there is a nice glow coming from the many candles spread around the room.  Delia’s deep, almost raspy moans seem to echo through the room as we look around, yet we see no one.  We can hear the soft panting of a man along with it, but it is completely overrun by Delia’s moans that are getting louder by the moment.  She gasps and then shudders as we turn to see her head poking out from under a sheet, with a lump of a person underneath the sheet.  She grips onto the bed frame as she leans her head back, gasping.

Delia:  Right z’ere, just like z’at, darling… Ohhhh yeahhhh…

She groans once more as she closes her eyes, letting them rest for a moment as she flings the sheet off of herself.  However, we are focused only on the look of pure ecstasy on her face for now.  The door slowly opens, but she can’t hear it over her own groaning.  She bites on her bottom lip hard as she scoots up slightly.  We pan over to see her father walking into the room.  He is distracted with a small bouquet of flowers in his hand, as well as a plate of “French” pastries.  He sets them down on the table and then turns to see the scene going on in the bed.  He pauses and his eyes widen for a second.  He stares and then finally, his expression softens up into a warm smile.  He sighs and reflects on his memories of such activities with his own wife.  He nods his head as his smile widens, before he finally speaks.

Chris:  Z’at is z’e sweetest s’ing I’ve seen in a long time.  Do you mind if I join in?

Delia:  I could use anos’er set of hands, papa.  Please do…

WHAT?!?!?!?!

We slowly pan over to find Delia, fully dressed as if she had just gotten in from an evening out.  The only thing bare on her is her feet, which her boyfriend, Eric Paisano is gently rubbing.  He raises his hand slightly as he waves his hand at Chris to let him know that he’s got this.  Chris nods his head as he walks over across the room to a small partition that separates the room from a living area.  He disappears through the doorway as Delia resumes her moaning.  Eric smirks widely as he really gets in there.

Eric:  Just think… this is only a small taste of the pleasure I could give you.

He whispers beneath his breath as he tries to say this so that Delia’s father doesn’t hear it from the other room.  The thrill of possibly getting caught turns him on, and this shines through his voice.  However, Delia’s moaning stops and turns into a long, drawn out negative “mmm mmmm…”  Eric’s face lights up with this challenge as Delia lifts herself up slightly.  She looks at Eric as if to drive her point home.

Delia:  I’ve already told you z’at I don’t want to ruin what we have wi’s somes’ing as messy as sex.  Not right now.  Not until I know we’ve built somes’ing greater.  I don’t want…

Delia stares down at Eric, but what she sees is not Eric.  She sees Drake Green’s tattoos on his bare arms and chest.  She sees him thrusting toward her, and she gasps before pulling her foot away from Eric.  She can hear her own words and moans echoing in her mind, and it nearly turns her stomach as she brings her knees up to her chest.  Eric looks confused as he slowly crawls up toward Delia.

Eric:  It’s okay.  You don’t need to explain any further.  You’ve already told me about the Drake thing, and it’s okay.  We weren’t together yet, and I can’t say that I didn’t have a fling or two before we got together either.

Delia:  Yeah, z’at really makes me feel better…

Delia rolls her eyes as she pulls away from Eric’s attempt at embracing her.  She sits her chin on her knees as she looks sullen.  Her expression is so wounded that it makes Eric look saddened just by looking at her.  He tries to embrace her again, but she brushes his hand away from her body as she lies down on her side, facing away from him.

Delia:  For you, z’at is normal.  For me to have done what I did was just… I’m… I’m so ashamed, and I don’t even know how to explain it to make you understand.

Eric:  Then don’t.

Delia looks shocked at Eric’s statement.  Eric thinks it over for a second, realizing how calloused that sounded before he lies down behind her, wrapping an arm around her gently, cradling her against himself.  He brushes a strand of her dark hair out of her face and plants a kiss on her cheek.

Eric:  What I meant was, don’t try to make me understand, because the chances are, that I won’t.  But that doesn’t mean that I won’t still support your decision.  Plus, the anticipation building up will only make it that much better in the end.  I’m a patient guy, and I know you are worth the wait.

Delia’s angry expression fades to a sweet smile as she wraps her hand in his.  Feeling his big, warm hand around hers was a comfort that she hadn’t felt in a very long time.  This moment right here was something she never thought she would have ever again, yet here she is… it wasn’t a dream, because she felt every inch of his body pressed against hers.  She feels his warmth enveloping her, and she could almost fall asleep just from the soothing tone in his voice right now.

Eric:  Liz and I have talked about this and…

Delia:  Really?  Liz again?  Ugh, she’s gone now, so could we please not talk about her anymore?  I’m so over it anyway…

Eric:  Yeah, I’m sure you are.  But you do know that Liz and I are very close friends, and that’s never going to change, no matter how hard you try to convince everyone that you don’t miss her too.

Delia chuckles and rolls her eyes before closing them and sinking further into Eric’s embrace.  Eric slowly shakes his head and smirks at Delia’s attempt to fool him.  He gently strokes her hair, running his fingers through it slowly as he feels the silky smooth locks fall from between them.

Eric:  You might be able to lie to everyone else around you, and manipulate them, but I’m not buying it.  You and Liz were close, and it’s okay to miss someone that you were close with.

Delia:  I don’t miss Liz, honestly.  I admitted z’at I used her star power to elevate my own in z’e United States.  If it helps you accept it easier, z’en you can pretend I miss Liz.

Eric:  Then say you do, and let’s see if I believe you.  Convince me.

Delia opens her eyes as she turns over onto her back, staring right into Eric’s wide blue eyes.  She giggles before playfully shoving him.  He snickers before hovering over Delia, daring her to try.  She licks at her lips playfully before looking him directly in the eyes, putting on a playfully dramatic voice.

Delia:  Oh, how I miss my dearest sister, Elizabeth Nicole Smalls…  Not a day has gone by z’is week where I did not miss her wi’s every fiber of my being…

Delia giggles as she rolls her eyes and then she tries to flip over onto her side once more, but Eric holds her in place.  He winks at her before gently running his index finger along her chin and jaw line.

Eric:  Now, tell me what you’re calling “the truth”…  Tell me how you used Liz.  Convince me.

Delia gets a serious expression on her face, the one that we are all familiar with.  She stares into Eric’s eyes silently for a few moments before taking in a deep breath.  At the last second, she avoids eye contact with him while narrowing her eyes.

Delia:  I was glad when z’at immature, sad, naïve little girl left our group of sisters.  I never liked Liz, and I made good on my promise to ruin h…

Eric:  *Chuckles*  You’re lying!  I thought you were supposedly a great liar, but you’re clearly the worst!

Delia:  You wouldn’t know z’e trus’ if it bit you on z’e…

Eric:  On the what?!

Eric playfully raises his voice, challenging her as Delia leans up and nips at his nose playfully.  Eric looks shocked as his mouth opens.  Delia laughs, and the laughter only escalates when Eric rolls over on top of her, holding her prisoner.  However, Delia’s defiant nature causes her to sit up slightly, taking another gummy nip at his nose.  He lifts her chin up and passionately kisses her lips.  She falls deep into the hypnosis of his kiss, of his enchanting eyes, of his pure essence.  He literally takes her breath away as he gently lays her back against the pillow.  He rolls off of her, and off of the bed as he makes his way over to the mini fridge.  He pulls out a can of Coca Cola, and a mineral water.  He pops the can open and then sets the water down in front of Delia.  As she is catching her breath, he leans down over her, ready to kiss her again.  As she puts her lips together, Eric pulls away and says one word.

Eric:  DeLIAR!

Delia playfully slaps him as she laughs again.  Eric sets his soda down on the night stand next to Delia’s water and then he slowly backs up toward the bathroom.  Delia shakes her head as she softens her expression.  She looks down at her phone, reading the last Tweets that she shared with Liz.  Her expression saddens up slightly as she stares at the picture of Liz.  No one is around, so she doesn’t fight the single tear that rolls down her cheek.  She sniffles, and then goes to wipe it away from her face.  She is startled when her phone rings.  Angelica’s picture comes over the screen and Delia rolls her eyes, ready to set it down when someone takes the phone from her.  She scoffs and looks over her shoulders to see Drake sitting there once more.  He sets the phone down behind him as he leans in, tilting Delia’s head back, ready to kiss her when she pushes his face away.

Delia:  Ugh!  I told you before z’at it was a mistake!  I only did it to piss off Misty, but I was so disgusted wi’s myself, I couldn’t even rub it in Misty’s face!  You disgust me…

”Drake” *In Eric's voice*:  You can always tell when you’re lying because you refuse to look people in the eyes when you’re lying.  You liked every minute of him ravaging your body.  It’s okay though.  I’ve had many a night like that myself…

Delia reaches back to slap “Drake” when he fades once more.  When Delia snaps back to reality, he phone is still ringing.  She immediately slides her finger across the screen as she listens prepares to speak, but she is cut off.

Angelica:  Oh em gee… you seriously let Alex walk out the other night?  That’s so fricken messed up!  Luckily I talked to him and…

Delia slowly feels a few tears streaming down her cheek as she can’t help sniffling.  He whimpers into the phone, causing Angelica to immediately stop talking.  Delia tries to catch her breath as she begins speaking.

Delia:  Angie, I… I really need someone to talk to.

Angelica:  Oh my gawd, what happened?  Did that Eric guy…

Delia looks toward the bathroom door as she hears the showerhead running.  She takes a few shallow breaths before sighing once again, almost choking on her breaths.  She sits up in the bed, letting her feet hang off of the edge as she tucks the phone against her shoulder.

Delia:  No… I did somes’ing a few weeks back, and I didn’t tell anyone because I was ashamed.  I s’ought I was over it, but clearly I’m not…  It… it was after our fight before Violent Conduct.  I was so mad, and I just needed to blow off some steam.  So I had a few too many drinks, and bought a bottle of scotch.

Angelica:  I know you’re like trying to be sober and stuff, but a few too many drinks is nothing to be ashamed of…

Delia:  But, I took z’at bottle to Drake Green’s hotel room and…

Angelica is heard gasping as Delia continues on.  However, her voice trails off as the camera pans out slightly.  She motions with her hands as she talks, but the screen slowly starts to go black…
[*Fade*]




>[*Scene Three – Let the Fierceness Begin!*]

“Respect is something given.  People say that you have to earn respect, but they give it away so freely.  Yet, when someone actually earns their respect, they find reasons not to give it.  That is why I have respect for very few. I don’t have enough to give away so freely.“ –Delia, darling if you must


The runway was somewhere that Delia hadn’t seen in quite a while.  She had been focusing mostly on wrestling as of late, perfecting her move set, and proving all of the haters wrong.  The latter was a full time job in and of itself, so it leaves one to wonder how she improved her wrestling skills at all, let alone becoming the Bombshell Champion!  Today, she had double booked herself, and it was definitely going to be difficult, but if anyone was capable of multi tasking, it was SCW’s first Haute Couture Model.  Delia is nowhere to be seen as cameras flash wildly in front of the SCW Camera Crew that is present.  The head photographer, a man with frosted blonde tips, spiked up and to the left slightly, black horn rimmed glasses, thin, and short walks to the head of the runway and taps his foot impatiently as he looks down at his Swiss watch on his wrist and scoffs loudly.

Hans:  What is with these models, ja?  My time is just as valuable if not even moreso…

A brunette woman walks up to Hans, wearing a pink sweater and a black dress, sliding her glasses up her nose before nervously trying to think of how to properly get Hans’ attention.  She lets out a simple “ummm…” as she tries to think out loud, but this only draws Hans’ attention as he narrows his eyes through his glasses.  He stares daggers at the young woman.

Hans:  WHAT?!  Out with it, frauline…

Woman:  My name is Bernice. I’ve been your assistant for *silently counts to self…* six years?  Maybe closer to seven, but we’ll say six for simplicities sake, and…

Hans:  Is there a point to this, or do you just like to hear yourself talk?

Bernice blushes as she looks down at the floor, which causes Hans to growl at her.  She tries to look up at Hans again, but it is to no avail as her gaze goes back down to the ground as she runs her foot across the floor, back and forth.

Bernice:  Ms. Darling has run into a problem with her scheduling, and…

Hans:  WHAT?!?!?!

Hans is angry beyond belief as he throws his camera down against the ground, stomping it in a fit of rage as he kicks the pieces all around in every which direction.  Bernice jumps back just in time to avoid a lens to the face.  He straightens up, though anger is still etched over his face.  He raises his hand into the air and snaps his fingers together three times until someone places a new camera in his hands.  Bernice clears her throat and speaks once again.

Bernice: … and she’s just finished her make up, and is waiting for her cue from you.

Hans:  Delia, darling… because I MUST!  Please grace us with your FUCKING presence!

Bernice:  Her contract specifies that her cue is “Let’s get fierce!” and…

Just then, Delia bursts through the curtains, throwing them to the side as she walks out in a long blonde wig that is supposed to be blowing in the wind, however there is no fan.  She is covered up by a small dress that appears to be made of pages from the Burn Book.  Holding it all together is a large Burn Book logo that strategically covers up the front of her as the pictures trail down her back and backside.  Her shoes are black and white ransom letter printed Mean Girls heels.  She is wearing an almost cheesy smile that quickly fades as she looks around, her face quickly turning sour.

Delia:  Z’is… is… NOT what I was expecting!  Who is in charge, because z’ey will never work in z’is town EVER AGAIN!

Delia growls as she kicks a few pieces of the broken camera from the runway.  She points down to it and then she lets out a low tone shriek of aggravation before throwing her hands up in the air in a faux sense of surrender.

Delia:  Z’is is why I would ras’er punch some fugly, Jealous Janis in z’e face instead of working a photo shoot!  Photographer’s z’ese days are sooooo unprofessional!

Delia rests her mean glare right on Hans, only she is locked in a stalemate, seeming to have met her match.  The two of them remain locked on for what seems like at least two minutes, and neither one seems to want to budge as they take a few steps closer to one another.  Delia narrows her eyes as she looks down her nose at the smaller man, given her slight advantage due to her six inch heels putting her just a little over six feet.  He stands on the tips of his toes as he narrows his eyes too, balling his fists up angrily at his side before the two of them break into a mutual laugh and embrace.

Delia:  Oh, Hans, you silly bitch… I should have known z’is was your doing.  You always did have a flare for z’e dramatics.

Hans:  Are you calling me a drama queen?  You’re one to talk, hun-TY!

Delia:  Queen is right, darling.  We’ll just leave it at z’at.  And who do you s’ink I learned it from.

Both of them snap their fingers together before laughing once more.  Delia flips her long flowing hair over her shoulders, one side at a time before rolling her eyes, having wasted a good reveal on something like this.  She walks back over to the curtains and holds them open as she steps part way through, looking to her left with an almost snooty expression on her face.

Delia:  Z’is would be where you turn on z’e fans, imbecile.

Delia looks forward and locks eyes with Hans as a smirk comes over both of their faces.  Hans raises the camera and snaps an unflattering photo of Delia before sticking his tongue out at her.

Hans:  We’ve got our cover photo…

Delia:  At least I can look imperfect and still hold a cover, bitch…

Delia gives a slow twirl, letting the pictures fan out, showing off her bare skin underneath as they fan out.  Her hair fans out as well, as the shutter snaps another picture.  Delia wraps the sparkling pink curtain around her face slightly, hiding one eye as another photo is taken.  She finally acknowledges the SCW camera for the first time with a quick glance to her right.

Delia:  Hello SCW fans and admirers…  I seem to have overbooked myself once again, but fear not… I have made time for you to hear me speak.

Delia pauses again as she lets the curtain slowly slide down her body, another photo being taken.  She begins walking forward on the runway, flipping her hair out as the wind causes it to slowly fall.  Not looking to the camera she still addresses it.

Delia:  In just a few short days, we get to see yet anos’er Jealous Janis who has declared war on z’e Mean Girls get her shot at me.  Yes, Roxi, I am talking about you.  You see, I am going to acknowledge your words, only because I’m tired of talking about how basic, ugly, and untalented you are compared to me.

Delia winks as a bit of fog blows past her, serving us 80’s “Cherry Pie” realness for a split second as her face smolders behind the light screen of fog.  We freeze frame on it for just a second to show the perfect picture before coming back to real time.  Delia continues her slow walk down the runway before she continues.

Delia:  Honestly, I am bored of you altoges’er.  In z’e last two mons’ I’ve faced you twice.  I faced you at Into the Void III, where I unveiled my Villainess persona.  I proved z’at evil can defeat good, because, guess what?

Delia pauses as she places her hands on her hips, swaying from side to side as she shakes her hair around, closing her eyes as she leans forward.  She lets her hair hang down before flipping it up into the air.  The camera flashes once more as Delia raises a hand up in the air toward the SCW camera.  Once we return to real time, Delia takes another second or two in order to address the camera directly.

Delia:  I defeated you.  Call it a cheap victory all you want.  Claim z’at Angelica is z’e only reason I beat you.  Claim z’at I got lucky.  Call it whatever you wish, because z’e only s’ing z’at matters is z’at I hold a victory over you.  No one saw you cover me for z’e One, Two, S’ree, and do you know why?

Delia lets an arrogant smirk sneak past her look of demur, but she quickly reels it back in as she places her fingers to her lips, sliding them slowly down her face before caressing her chin.  She glances back over toward Hans as the camera snaps another picture.  We freeze on it, letting it pan out slightly before coming back to real time.

Delia:  Because it never happened.  Any time z’at we have faced off, one on one, six woman tag… I defeated you, or your team mate.  You have not been able to defeat me.  I’ve proved it twice recently.  I must admit, z’at it feels just like a bad Bill Murray film.  I’m stuck in a loop.  You would s’ink z/at wi’s all of z’e haters z’at Mean Girls have, z’ey could s’ink of someone different for me to face, yet z’ey s’row you at me.

Delia shrugs her shoulders before she turns completely to face Hans.  She raises a hand up, pointing at him as she flips her hair back, walking forward with her other hand on her hip.  She bites at her bottom lip as we snap another photo.

Delia:  Maybe z’ey wanted me to get an easy first defense?  Obviously I’m going to win yet again, because you have a history of being unable to get z’e job done.  You couldn’t beat me at Into Z’e Void S’ree.  You couldn’t beat me on Climax Control last mons’.  What makes z’em s’ink z’at you can beat me z’is week?  Z’ey don’t have fai’s in you, darling.  Z’ey were probably having a good laugh in z’e office when z’ey booked it.  Almost as hearty of a chuckle as I had when you declared war on us…

Delia lets out a sort chuckle, even though she obviously wants to laugh even harder.  However, she can’t break her pose that much, so we are left to take what we can get.  Delia walks down to the end of the runway where they have set up a set of ring ropes, stretched out around a white chair, and attached to two turnbuckles off to the side.  Delia walks over to the chair and collapses, letting her legs fly up into the air, where we snap another picture, freezing on it.  In real time, Delia flicks her legs to the side as she rests sideways in the chair, elegantly sprawling out over the chair before reaching out with a faux look of desperation on her face.

Delia:  Just like I told Misty when she did z’is like s’ree mons’ ago… no one gives a shit, darling… Honestly, no one does, and do you know why?  Because, even z’ough you capitalized on a win over Misty when she was grieving z’e loss of her grandmos’er, which no one called cheap or lucky z’en… you haven’t done anys’ing here.  Oh, except z’at time you were wi’s z’e guy who beat you on camera, and interfered to cost Vixen z’e Bombshell Championship for like two seconds.  How could we forget about z’at?

Delia winks and chuckles as a stagehand walks over to the chair, handing Delia her Burn Book.  She opens it up in the middle and presses it to her chest as she lets her hair hang down the side of the chair.  We snap another photo and freeze on it, panning out slowly as Delia speaks, despite still freezing on the photo.

Delia:  Yet, because you have just as big of a superiority complex as I do, you hold onto z’ese accomplishments as if z’ey mean somes’ing.  Yet, z’e Bombshell Championship I’m not holding holds no weight?  Even z’ough I defeated Vixen fair and square?  Somebody is showing z’eir jealousy, but let me tell you somes’ing, Roxi, darling…

We return to real time now.  Delia turns her head ever so slightly in the chair, opening her eyes as she holds the Burn Book down at her side, letting her arm dangle from the chair.  She has the sweetest smile on her face, one that makes her appear angelic, even if only for the slightest of moments.

Delia:  Green is not your color… even if you like to s’ink so.  It does fit, because your envy of me, or any of my Mean Girls, is z’e greenest I’ve seen, except Misty’s of course…  But, it is okay.  Z’e fans are blinded by your deceit, and z’ey s’ink z’at you are coming after Mean Girls because we’re bad.  We have sins to atone for.  But, who doesn’t?  You certainly do.  Cyrus was just z’e tip of z’e iceberg, darling.  But, if I went into z’at, no one would believe me, so what is z’e point?  You know exactly what I’m talking about, and z’at is good enough for me.

Delia slowly raises the Burn Book up above her, letting it hover as she reads over the pages carefully.  We snap another photo as Delia slowly turns the book to show off Roxi Johnson’s recent entry.  Delia flashes it, and the camera snaps another picture.  Delia holds her hand innocently over her mouth as she puckers her lips together.  A third picture is snapped as Delia slowly brings herself up to sit upright in the chair.

Delia:  By z’e way, you are welcome for my making you famous by even talking about you so in deps’… You are not wors’ it, but why not take a moment to remind people of z’e obvious trus’ of s’ings.  You know, z’e s’ings z’at z’ey know are true, but for some reason, z’ey pretend are not.  Or z’ey conveniently *air quotes* forget about z’em to focus on my flawless looks.  I mean, I can’t help z’at I am so pretty and rich and popular.  You know, evers’ing z’at you are not? Sorry bout it…

Delia shrugs her shoulders as she flips the page.  We freeze for just a second to catch the image of Vixen on the next page.  The page next to it should be blank, but we see an image that is certainly no surprise.  Traci Patterson has been glued in already, and in pink lettering next to her picture can be seen, though we can’t make it out.  That’s okay, because Delia is… such a nice person, and she reads it to us.

Delia:  â€œTraci Patterson… z’e lucky new girl who clearly gave Erik Staggs a ‘BJ’ during her contract signing last week or whatever.  She blew her way to a Bombshell Championship title shot against Delia Darling.”  Ugh, so true!  I mean, who else gets to come right in and get a shot at any championship like z’is?  I know I didn’t!  I was a runner up in z’e Blast From z’e Past II tournament, I am undefeated to z’is very day, and I’ve defeated almost every single woman on z’e roster, and I only JUST got a shot less z’an s’ree weeks ago!  Traci must have a very persuasive mous’…

Delia turns the book around, waving it at the camera as it snaps a few photos that we freeze on individually for a split second.  Delia tosses the book behind her, and we freeze on it as it flies through the air, Delia looking over her shoulder at it before we return to real time.

Delia:  I mean, seriously?  Z’is whole s’ing stinks of Christian Underwood’s own personal brand on nonsensical logic.  I mean, he pushed some new guy wi’s really bad hair to a title shot because z’e kid flashed his ass cheeks to him.  I would swear Christian was behind z’is, but if a s’ree dollar bill is queer, z’en Christian is a buck fifty note… Sorry bout it…

Delia shrugs her shoulders as she stands up from the seat.  She turns around and places her foot up on the turnbuckle that is doubling as the arm of the chair.  She runs her fingers up her leg as she lets her hair hang over her face just enough to add an air of mystery to the photo that is snapped next.

Delia:  It could have been Mark Ward, but he is a good businessman.  He wouldn’t want to piss off his top earner, would he?  I mean, he’s got people like Sean Jackson who bring in money, but why cut his earnings in half?  Seriously, half!  And merch sales?  Forget about it…  No, Mark wouldn’t sign such a match.  I bet he even objected to letting Trish join z’is match…

Hans  I thought you said her name was Traci…

Delia:  Ugh, don’t remind me.  Trish sounds so much prettier.  It makes people s’ink of Trish Newborn.  You know, someone who has held gold here and elsewhere.  Someone who is pretty.  Not some rookie.  I mean, it is an improvement, no?

Delia finally flips her hair out of her face and over her right shoulder.  She extends her hand once more, getting another great photo opportunity.  However, her intent isn’t to get a good picture.  She growls as someone quickly brings her the Bombshell Championship belt.  She sighs as she places it over her shoulder, getting the picture she was wanting to begin with.

Delia:  I mean… I didn’t bust my ass to let some newcomer like Trudy come along and take my belt from me.  I guess z’ey want me to give her z’e warm welcome z’at she deserves by beating her.  If I didn’t care about looking like a serious competitor, I would pick her off right away and pin her to retain my belt, but no… Roxi has at least held gold here before, and…

Just then, a voice comes from behind the camera, one that is feminine, and a bit fiery at Delia’s comment.

Mercedes:  Traci was my tag team partner, and we held the Bombshell Tag Team Championships twice.

Delia looks confused as she taps her chin.  Hans snaps another photo as Delia rolls her eyes in annoyance.  She waves him off before holding a finger up to stop him from taking pictures.  Delia goes back to looking completely confused again, trying to think it over.

Delia:  What?  No, z’at can’t be right.  I mean, your tag partner was… obviously irrelevant because I can’t remember z’em, but it wasn’t Tammy.

Mercedes:  No, it wasn’t Tammy, because it was Trudy, er Trish, er… Traci Patterson.

Delia:  Whatever.  We’re not talking about Traci.  We’re talking about Tammy Peterson.  Like what kind of a name is z’at anyways?

Delia stares past the cameras to Mercedes who comes walking into the shot.  She looks around at the cameras as if she is trying to pardon herself for the interruption.  She has the Burn Book in her hand and she opens it up to the page with Traci Patterson’s picture, holding it up to Delia.

Delia:  Ugh, why is your former tag team partner in our book?  I mean, she deserves to be, but I don’t get it…

Mercedes:  Because you are facing her this week, along with Roxi Johnson.

Delia:  What?

Delia scratches the side of her head as Hans clears his throat in annoyance.  Delia raises her middle finger to him, leaving it extended toward him as she looks back at Mercedes with confusion once again.

Mercedes:  You’ve been hanging around Liz Smalls too long… Traci Patterson has held gold twice in SCW, with me.  She’s been around longer than you have been.

Delia:  Seriously?

Mercedes:  Seriously, Deelz.  I mean, I clearly carried her to success, but still, facts are facts.

Delia blinks as her mouth hangs open for a second.  She is clearly still confused, but she rolls her eyes and gently takes the Burn Book from Mercedes’ hand and sets it down on the chair in front of her.

Delia:  Whatever… She’s still no challenge to me.  Z’e only reason I haven’t achieved more z’an she has is because people couldn’t deny our greatness any longer.  Now z’at people see how good we really are, her achievements won’t mean anys’ing.  She still doesn’t stand a chance against someone of my caliber.  At least she is kind of pretty, and she could do somesin’g wi’s her talents if she applied herself.

Mercedes:  If you say so.  Are you sure she doesn’t just appear to look pretty because the only method of comparison that you have is Roxi Johnson?

Delia goes to object, but then she shrugs her shoulders, nodding her head as the two share a laugh.  She finally lowers her middle finger and Hans snaps a very unflattering picture of her before sticking his own middle finger out in front of the camera, giving a blurry view of it extended toward Delia.

Hans:  Gossip Girls… can’t we get back to the photo shoot?  I’ve got a date in half an hour.

Delia:  Don’t worry, darling… I hear your right hand is a very patient man…

Delia pushes the middle finger out of her face as she props the belt up just a little higher on her shoulder.  She crosses it over her chest, looking down to it with a hint of pride on her face as we snap another picture.

Delia:  Anyway, Traci Patterson… Apparently you’ve been around Sin City Wrestling for a while now.  Such a shame z’at someone who researched z’is company before joining it, didn’t know your name.  Not even a close call to being a champion before leeching off of Mercedes and her talents.  Why does z’at sound so familiar?  Oh yeah, people are claiming z’at my sisters and I are doing just z’at.  Yet, z’e fans cheer for you, no?  Don’t z’ey?  I mean, I honestly don’t know.  Let’s assume z’ey do, because it would go along wi’s z’e s’eme of z’e fans ignoring obvious facts in favor of people like yourself.

Delia flips her hair over to the other side, letting it drape over the belt slightly, just leaving the light to shine brightly off of the faceplate of the belt.  Delia looks almost wantonly down at the belt, and then up at the camera as we freeze frame once more, panning out before returning to real time.

Delia:  Z’e fans are hypocrites, and z’at is exactly why I do not pander to z’em like you do, Traci.  Just like Roxi, your dreams of becoming Bombshell Champion will fall short on Sunday.  Just like Roxi, you will be defeated by moi.  Just like Roxi, z’e fans will cheer your name, all z’e way to z’e end where I pin one of you.  And just like Roxi, you will get to watch me celebrate in z’e ring after our match, and you will get to watch me walk away wi’s my belt held high above my head.  Sorry bout it…

Delia shrugs her shoulders as she slowly pulls the belt from her shoulder.  She turns to face the camera as she holds the belt above her head.  Behind her, lights flare up in the shape of her name, three times.  This is to signify the fans cheering her name, but as most know, these lights are the closest thing to cheers that Delia will ever have.  We flash one last photo of Delia standing proudly with the belt, freezing on it for about five seconds before it slowly starts to go black.
[*Fade*]