Scene 1 Before the camera comes to any picture, white words pop up on the screen:
"For the protection of someone who wishes to remain anonymous, his face will remain out of view and his voice has been disguised."
The scene comes to from the view of the unknown man's shoulder. He's dressed in a rather expensive sports coat. He raises his fist and lightly raps on the door. The hand then lowers rather slowly, as the sound of a metal lock sliding open can be heard from the other side. The white door slowly opens. Bianca is standing there, wrapped in a white robe with her curls a tousled mess. The look on her face is of that of surprise, but a coy smile begins to languidly spread across her lips.
The disguised voice is deep and somewhat garbled, so subtitles have been provided across the bottom of the screen."I knew I'd find you here"
Bianca's face shows surprise that he's there, yet her voice comes across cool and calm, "Yeah well what do you expect? I'm in a place that I don't really know, and finding a decent club around this place with decent people to carry on an actual conversation-" Bianca sighs and lowers her eyes to the ground, shaking her head a moment. "I just feel a little alone here, because no one understands how it feels to be...well...me. And there's this big shoot coming up for SCW, I'm a little stressed. This trip better be worth it..." Drumming her fingers against the door a little as she then says, "So....what brings you here?"
Mr. Unknown sighs, "I need to talk to you...now.." His voice trails off.
She shrugs a bit and tilts her head, her eyes studying him, "Wh-what do you need to talk about?" Confusion crosses her face a moment as she looks him over, drumming her fingers on the door.
"Something. I will tell you it's an opportunity to prove your talent in the ring."
She sighs playfully, "Alright then, come on in." She opens the door wider, but her arms are outstretched with one hand on the door and the other on the door sill. Her eyes are trained on him lustfully, and her lower lip tucks inward. She bites down on the fleshy mound as he begins to step forward. Her left arm drops from the sill as he begins to pass it, being so close to him gives her a whiff of his cologne. She turns, closing the door as she does so and follows him deeper into the apartment. A smile crossing her lips fully now with each step she takes.
Bianca stops at the white chair, resting her hands upon the back of it and leaning forward to watch him. He paces back and forth and she raises an eyebrow at him, her face showing the excitement. "Ok, I don't understand what's the big deal?"
He continues to pace a bit, trying to figure out how to break the news to her. He knows she's not going to be happy about the tag team match. After the discussions that they've had in such a short amount of time, he knows in his heart that she's going to be pissed. His hands come together in front of his stomach, his fingers clasped and his thumbs fidgeting. She furrows her brow and shakes her head, "What is it?"
"Are you sure you don't want to sit down?"
"No, I have to get dressed anyway, I have to leave for an interview pretty soon."
"So you know already?"
"Know what? What's going on?" She looks toward the bedroom, then back at him, "I'll tell you what, let me get dressed...you talk." She turns and disappears into the room, she drops the robe on her way in to tease Mr. Unknown with just the sight of her walking away from him in her underwear. A shiver runs through him, he shakes his head and starts smacking the back of one hand into the other, trying to figure out how to put the sentences together. They've called her for an interview, but they haven't told her why. Typical. She picks her jeans and begins to put them on as he begins.
"Well, I have no other idea how to break this but...you've been put into a match."
"That's great against whom?" A smile crosses over her lips.
"Well...two others..Angelica and Veronica Taylor.." He raises a hand and runs it over his chin back and forth, feeling the stubble growing. His eyebrows dipping in frustration. Why can he not just come out and say it.
"Ok, so it's a three way dance then that's ok." She shrugs. Grabbing her button up shirt off the bed, she shakes it out and begins to put it on, sliding it up her arms and fixing the collar around her neck. She was happy that she picked this button up shirt. The red shirt that she picked was absolutely flattering for her figure, but she didn't want to wear it just yet. Completely worried about wrinkles, she let her eyes dance over the shirt on the hanger by the door.
"It's a tag match, B."
She stops dead in her tracks. Her face is not so happy anymore. Her mind races. She's trying to find the words, the emotions even! Her heart begins to pound and her hands shake. She's immediately heated, though she tries to keep her cool around him. She knows he doesn't like to see her angry, but it's hard for her to keep her composure. She tries to find the words. Her eyes lose focus for a split second, then on him directly. Her lips parted as if to speak.
"I know this isn't the best of news, but it's for the Tag Team Tournament. If you and this chick can get your shit together...then you'll be Tag Team Champions."
Bianca's hands shake as she checks her phone. She then storms up to him with crossed arms. Butterflies fill her stomach - she's ready to fight. Her voice raises with each passing sentence until she's fully yelling at him, "You have got to be fucking kidding me! Who the hell thought of that bird-brained idea?! Who the hell do I have to get fired in order for someone to get their stuff straight around here?! I am not a tag-teamer. Do you understand that?" He begins to nod his head, "No! Obviously you don't! I do not work well with other females. None of these ring-rats have proven themselves to me for me to even be interested in teaming up with ANY of them. What do I look like to you? Do I honestly look like I'm just gonna smile and be all.." She then puts on a very mocking ditsy voice, "Ok! Why not?! I could always sleep my way to the top if it doesn't work, right?" She growls in frustration and throws her hands up.
"Stop, ok." Her eyebrows furrow as she stares at him, a little dumbfounded at this whole idea.
"Look, I understand how important it is to you to dominate the singles scene, however this is a really great opportunity for you. All you have to do is, relax and breathe, keep your mind clear of whatever you're worried about..and go talk to this chick about tagging up."
"You're out of your fucking mind. You know that." She turns from him, pacing the room a moment, her hand to her lips as she is clearly contemplating the thought of having some chick thinking she's gonna get one over on her. She shakes her head and stares up at him. "Who is it?"
_______________________________________________ Scene 2 A confessional was set up for Bianca after she got the details of the match. She had done her homework on Trish Newborn. She walks in and sits down, looks into the camera a minute and gets comfortable in the seat. She clears her throat and furrows her brow a moment, silent, trying to figure out what she's really trying to say.
Taking a deep breath she then begins to speak, "Trish Newborn. Words can't describe how I honestly feel right now about her. I don't trust her, however, we're supposed to team up with each other - oh god in less than a full week. I shudder the thought. Honestly, when I found out that I was in a tag match I got immediately heated - I mean hands shaking, heart pumping, blood rushing, ready to fight - HEATED! I. DON'T. DO. TAG. MATCHES. PERIOD." She takes in a deep breath and begins again. "I am however, comforted at the thought that I'll be teaming with a fellow Italian. It warms my heart to know that I'm not the only Italian bitch in this company. I've looked her up. I am confident in the fact that..." She pauses, thinking. She's so methodical at this point, moving some hair out of her face.
"We are going to kill...absolutely kill these poor girls. With her psychology studies from UCLA, I'm confident in the fact that she know her way around a ring. With my 5 years of training in Okinawa, being taught by the best, I DEFINITELY know my way around a ring and not afraid to bleed. However, IF I see my own blood - these girls aren't gonna stand a chance. As far as Trish goes, there's only one thing I need to say to get off my chest - I'm not the one she needs to worry about. The only thing that better be on her mind when she steps into that ring - at my side, no less - is the match and destroying our opponents. I am not someone she wants to war with. I am not someone that ANY of these chicks want to war with. That's it. Go to war with me - you end up in the hospital waking up with a tube down your throat. Although, I'm not so sure that would be too traumatic for some of these girls around here, because I'm pretty sure they're used to having a tube down their throat - made of meat or otherwise. So as long as Trish can understand that I am JUST as dangerous as she is and I know my way around the squared circle just as much as she does - then we're golden. Don't fuck with me, I won't fuck with you. If she wants to have an old school Italian sit-down, then let's do this. But don't ever fuck with me, because I am not that girl to just lay down and pretend things are A-ok and we're buddy buddy. We can have an understanding and work together for what WE want without having to be friends."
She begins to laugh a little, "I can't even imagine what these two must be thinking. Amy and Vivica - what?" She looks over off of camera and you can hear a stage hand correcting her on the names. "Angelica and Ver- Oh whatever! The names aren't important. What's important is that two little girls think they're gonna grow some ovaries and step up to us. Are they trying to get murdered? Do they have a death wish? I'm dangerous enough by myself, but to step up to a team like Trish and myself. Granted me and Trish have a whole hell of a lot to work out, but for these two chicks to step up to the most dangerous women in the business - you must need to be committed in the penn. Seriously."
She re-situates herself in the chair to where she's staring into the camera.
"Lets talk about Amy...Ang..whatever. 'God's gift to man and woman alike' huh? Keep telling yourself that darling, with your cheap Walmart brand make-up and your basement-bargain clothing. Honey, showing your assets - or lack there of - may work from time to time with most people. I mean it's perfectly ok, I understand. You have no talent and therefore must rely on showing your ass 90% of the time, but I'm gonna warn you that it's not going to work in this match. So, you can go sell "sleazy" somewhere else. Not to mention, It's come to my understanding that you like to pull hair..."
"Well understand, sweetheart that you can do what you feel you have to do to SURVIVE, but I go hard like concrete. I don't "cat-fight" babe, I'll re-arrange your face. Hrmph, and as for Vern...Vivica..UGH! Whatever her name is...Maybe you both stumbled into the wrong career. This is not a run-way. This is a ring! Your looks will NOT save you here. Your lack of talent is a real concern. You know you're going to need an orthodontist, right? Because when I finish with you - excuse me...when WE finish with you...you're going to need a new grill. End of story. Are you sure you just don't wanna call your mommy and daddy, ask them to send you some money to bring you home to continue your sorry life on the runway and in pictures? Think about it real hard, because I don't have to think twice about finishing your career for you."
She runs a hand through her hair. "Understand this, girls. You may call yourselves the quote-unquote Mean Girls, but the only true Mean WOMEN around here are about to take you back to school...and you're about to learn it the hard knocks way. Italian style."
Her eyes focus on someone off camera after staring long and hard into the camera, as if to pierce whoever is looking at the screen. "Now get this fucking camera out of my face." She stands up and walks off screen. The camera fades to black.
FIN
