Author Topic: Little Birdies and Monkeys  (Read 381 times)

Offline Delia Darling

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Little Birdies and Monkeys
« on: May 02, 2014, 02:52:46 AM »
 
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”Jealousy shows itself in many forms.  Sometimes, it is the ones standing in the background, saying nasty things behind your back.  Sometimes it is the ones who smile vacantly in your face.  And sometimes, it is the ones who wish they could slap you across the face, but are too afraid.  I have met every form, and I welcome it.” –Delia, darling if you must


Tonight was a victory.  The Mean Girls had proven that they are NOT the girls to mess with.  They had taken Karina Koji and made an example of her, beating her so badly that she could not even compete in her match for the evening.  Amy Marshall would have to be taught another lesson for her participation in destroying their clothes.  They had a plan for this, but it would have to wait for another day.  They thought they had gotten through to Amy by costing her the Bombshell Roulette Championship, but this was not enough for her…

We pan in to find a large building that seems almost to be in the middle of nowhere.  The building has a round-top skyscraper attached to it.  As we move in closer, we then see Delia walking through the halls of the President’s Hotel in Yamoussoukro, Cote D’Ivoire.  She steps firmly through the brightly painted halls, making her feet click against the stone flooring.  She has a bag full of burned and tattered clothing in her hand, but she seems rather at easy, instead of being in a bad mood as she tends to be after most shows.  She is closely followed by Angelica, who is tapping away at her phone, smiling as she turns the phone for Veronica Taylor to see.  They talk indistinctly as Delia approaches their room.  She pulls out the room key and opens up the door, stepping inside.  She tosses the bag on her bed, collapsing next to it as she spreads out.  Veronica takes the chair next to the door as Angelica sits next to Delia on the bed.

Angelica:  Apparently, Alex just booked a cute little tour at a safari in the Congo. Look at these pictures.

Delia looks over and scoffs at it, rolling her eyes as she fumbles around in her bag.  She pulls out each piece of torn or burned clothing, and she shoots hoops with them slowly, tossing them next to Veronica.

Veronica:  It might be cute.  You never know.

Delia:  Wild animals are not cute.  Z’ey are smelly and carry disease!  I will not play part in somes’ing as disgusting as z’is.  I will just find somes’ing else to do, or sleep in from a night of clubs.

Angelica groans slightly as she places her index fingernail between her teeth, staring over to Veronica for help with the meltdown that is surely to come.  Delia’s eyes gaze up at Angelica, who taps away at her phone once more, pulling up Twitter.  She turns it around for Delia to see.  Delia cups the phone between her hands as she reads the screen.

Delia:  Worse?  How can anywhere be worse z’an Cote D’Ivoire?  I wasn’t aware z’at anywhere could be more boring z’an it is here!  Twitter is z’e most exciting s’ing here!

Delia shakes her head as she pulls her phone out, logging on to Twitter.  She taps away at her phone for a moment before setting it down on her chest.  She closes her eyes and moans, uncharacteristically as she rubs at her face.

Angelica:  Well, try to see the bright side.  It could be fun to visit the safari with Alex.  Tessa is even going.  We could, like… wear pink face guards, and take pictures with an orangutan…

Veronica:  We did that earlier when we beat down Karina Koji though…

Delia lifts a finger in the air, leading the other two as they make a sizzling sound with their mouths.  Veronica looks proud of herself as Delia’s phone makes a bell-like sound.  She picks it up and reads it to herself while speaking aloud.

Delia:  If we didn’t have a match z’is week, I would not even bos’er to show up… However, your boyfriend has a very nice plan.

Angelica:  What?  Let me see…

Angelica pulls up her phone again and skims through it.  Veronica seems to feel left out, so she follows suit, seeing what the other two are talking about.  She pulls out her phone, and the three begin searching through the social media site.  Angelica starts to type something before stopping and looking at Delia.

Angelica:  Wait a minute you guys… Do you think that people might think we’re losers if we’re all on Twitter at the same time?  It would totally hurt our creds…

Veronica:  Oh, yeah, totally…

Delia looks over to Angelica, staring at her for just a minute after sending a Tweet out.  She holds her phone out in her hand and blinks slowly.  She then looks over to Veronica as if she has something helpful to say.

Delia:  I spent a long time, trying to teach her z’at it does not matter what z’ese bitches s’ink of us.  If z’ey want to make fun of us for being bored on a Sunday Night in a town where z’ere is absolutely nos’ing to do… z’en it is z’ere problem, not ours.

Veronica:  Sorry Miss Party City.  But in America, a reputation means something, even if we are trapped in God’s Blind Spot right now…

Delia:  Z’at was so insensitive, Veronica…  And I love you for it!

The ladies share a bit of a chuckle as Delia’s phone goes off once more.  She picks it up, feeling as if it is her civic duty to speak for all of the Mean Girls tonight.  She scans the screen before snapping her fingers at Angelica.

Delia:  I forgot your boy toy has a jet.  He can get us out of z’is mess.  We just need a destination… S’ink, s’ink, s’ink…

Angelica:  We could go visit Paris.  I’ve never been.

Veronica:  Oooh, Rome would be beautiful this time of year.  Or, we could visit Milan!

Delia nods her head as she taps away at her phone, sending out another Tweet to the boss.  She places the phone down on her chest as she looks over to Angelica again.

Delia:  Darling, if you are going to make me relay messages to keep up appearances, z’en would you please look up hotels in Rome or Milan?  Nos’ing less z’an four stars, please…

Angelica nods her head as Delia leans up on the bed.  She grabs the last few pieces of ruined clothing, and she balls it up in her hands, making one last shot.  She celebrates with an arrogant smile as her eyes wander over to Veronica.

Delia:  I must admit z’at I did not s’ink you had what it took to be a Mean Girl anymore, Veronica.  I simply s’ough z’at you were anos’er wannabe.

Veronica:  Aww, well I love you too, bitch…

Veronica says with a snarky tone as she glares over her phone screen at Delia.  She shakes her head as Delia snickers for a moment.

Delia:  If I may finish… I was going to say z’at you have proved me wrong.  I started wrestling when I saw you, because I wanted to come in and destroy you, tear you down from z’e pedestal z’at you seem to live on.  I was working my way to you so I could take your place, because I am so much better, and more creative…

Veronica:  And you just keep warming up to me, more and more, honey… Screw you, Deelz…

Delia:  But seriously, gurrrrl… I never s’ought I would see z’e day when we would actually team up.  Even two mon’s ago, I would have laughed at such a s’ing.  However, here we are, and I could not be happier.  It is a relief.

Veronica tilts her head to the side as she looks at Delia, trying to assess if this is a joke or not.  She has never once seen Delia give an honest smile before, and the thought of it almost creeps her out.  However, just as quickly as Delia makes her sweet gesture, her stone face comes back again.

Delia:  But, I am still more fashion forward z’an you, bitch…

Veronica:  It’s two different games, sweetie.  You’re Nightmare Before Christmas…

Delia: And you are Pretty Woman, no’sing but a hooker, darling…

Angelica:  Girls!  You are supposed to be tag teaming next week, but I have a feeling there won’t be much left of either of you with all of this back biting…

Delia and Veronica laugh it off, though there is obviously a small amount of tension left between them.  Angelica turns her phone around toward Delia, showing her what she’s found.  Delia looks down at it, scrolling through the amenities as a smile creeps upon her face.

Delia:  I have had z’e proper influence on you, I see… It is perfect, darling.  Book it and let Mr. Ward know.

Angelica:  Okay, three or four rooms?  We might want to let Alex know so he can cancel his safari tour.

Delia laughs at this as she looks over to Angelica.  Angelica stares back at her quizzically as Delia takes the phone from her.

Delia:  S’ree will be fine.  You and Mark can share, and Veronica and I shall have our own.  Holly and Tessa can have fun on z’ere little safari tour, batting away mosquitoes and wombat ass bugs…

Angelica:  But, but… we’re the Mean Girls.  We don’t travel separately!

Veronica:  Hey, who are we to rob them of a disgusting, er, cultural experience?  Besides, Alex wants to do his thing, so let him do his thing.  It keeps that little Irish girl out of our hair for a little bit anyway…

Angelica looks stunned at the affront against the solidarity of Mean Girls.  Delia simply shrugs, not wishing to argue the point any further, especially now with Veronica’s support.  Delia slides the now empty duffel bag onto the ground next to her as she sighs.

Angelica:  We are like sisters, you guys!  We can’t let them do this, because they will be miserable, and it breaks the code.  It’s like the old saying, friends don’t let friends wear Louis Vuitton!

Veronica:  Ugh, five G’s… Good God Girl Get a Grip!  It’s not that serious, you know.

Delia:  Listen to her, Angie… She might not know much, but she knows z’is much at least…

Angelica stares at both ladies, almost seeming shocked by their united front.  She knew there was some tension between them, both carrying alpha bitch attitudes, so seeing them agree left her at a loss for words.  She simply taps at her phone with a look of disdain on her face as she does so.

Angelica:  Okay, the hotel rooms are booked.  I guess I will let Mark know that we are ready whenever he is.  How are we going to let Holly and Tessa know we’re going?

Delia:  I am sure z’ey will get z’e hint when z’ey see we are not on z’e plane to Congo.

Angelica:  You two are just evil… Does that mean I have to be the nice one for now?

Veronica and Delia smirk as they nod their heads at her.  Angelica rolls her eyes, pouting out her lips in frustration at this.  She sighs as she stands up from the bed, walking over to the door.

Angelica:  I will try, but I can’t promise anything.  We all know I’m not good at playing nice…

With that, she waves Veronica over toward the door.  Veronica stands up, sliding her phone back into her pocket as she joins Angelica.  The two step out, leaving Delia alone.  As the door shuts, Delia pulls off her platinum blonde wig and tosses it on the bed, her stocking cap still in place.  She stands up with a sigh and walks over to a closet where she throws several outfits onto her bed.

[*Fade*]


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”One can claim that they earned everything they have.  Some will claim it modestly.  But the fact of the matter is that people do not always earn what they have.  A lot of times, it is more about who and what you know that will give you the advantage.” –Delia, darling if you must


As we start to fade into our scene, we are stumped as we hear the harmonic voices of what seems like a medieval choir.  Their voices sooth and astound all at once as if to take up to Five O’Clock Mass… or the main menu for Halo 3?  As the dark picture slowly starts to show the light, we see the wrought iron and glass ceiling that leads us to believe the first option is true.  The camera spins ever so slowly as it pans out, showing the dome ceiling.  The voices get louder as we pan out, showing the very unique designs displayed.  We then see the aged beige walls and… windows?  The voices continue to get louder as we come down to see street lights hanging from these walls.  It appears to be nothing more than your typical city street in Italy, with four buildings meeting in the center.  The only difference is that the buildings are linked together by glass ceilings, covering them as protection from the weather, as well as the large dome covering the center.  People are rushing past one another, each with their own important things to do, because they are very much better than everyone else.  They jibber jabber on their cell phones, or simply snub their nose at those who are wearing the fashions from winter.  Despite the weather still being cooler than normal for this time of year, you simply do not wear winter fashion during the spring in Milan… period!

However, Delia seems to fit in quite well as she rests on a bench in the center of the Quad.  She is wearing a sheer white floral print dress with a nude top underneath, and a black belt to synch the waist, and matching black strap heels, with her platinum blonde hair falling down behind her shoulders.  She has warm biscotti in her hand, nibbling at the flaky pastry stick gingerly.  Angelica walks up with “Hot Stuff” Mark Ward.  The couple seems rather cozy.  Angelica is wearing a white dress as well, however, she has a very slimming black corset on the outside with a design to it that straps up the shoulders, and black close toed heels.  Mark is wearing a red polo and jeans, which nearly causes Delia to choke on her food.  The two approach Delia with a smile, while Delia turns her head, acting as if she doesn’t know them.

Angelica:  Deelz, this place is amazing and I haven’t even stepped foot inside of a shop yet… Delia?

Delia rubs at her face, as she keeps her head turned to the side.  Angelica sits down on the bench next to Delia, questioning her silently as she looks over to her.  Delia takes another bite of biscotti, while speaking through her teeth.

Delia:  You ret ‘im reave rooking rike zzz’at?

Angelica:  Girl, no one can understand you when you talk with your mouth full…

Delia chews her food, quickly swallowing it.  She turns to face Mark and Angelica as they stand there.  She smiles sweetly as she slowly moves her eyes back and forth between them so to address them both directly.

Delia:  I said… and I quote it slowly for you, darling… “You let him leave looking like z’at?”  Referring to z’e awful choice in clos’ing z’at I most certainly hope you did not pick out for him.  I don’t know who to smack first… Coming to z’e fashion capital of Italy and z’e world looking a fuuuucking mess…

Mark:  Well, it’s nice to meet you too, lady…  Don’t flip ya wig, and I do mean that literally.

Delia gives a sarcastic smile, quickly turning it into a look of disgust at Mark’s statement.  Angelica’s jaw hangs open in surprise at Delia’s uncouth statement.  She even grunts in frustration before giving Delia a quick shove to the side.

Angelica:  Rude much?  We can’t have a man upstaging our looks, anyway.

Delia:  I am very confident z’at z’is will nt be z’e case today.  I just hope I can show my face in z’e fashion world ever again after today…

A couple ladies laugh and point in the background as Delia sinks her head down in embarrassment.  Mark seems to enjoy making Delia writhe in this uncomfortable situation before finally speaking.

Mark:  If I’m such a bloody embarrassment, then why don’t ya play Ken Doll and dress me up for the day?  I wouldn’t mind.  When if Ro… er… Milan.

“Hot Stuff” smirks as Delia groans at the thought.  Angelica stares a hole through Delia as she stands up from the bench.  Angelica pulls the biscotti from her hand and yanks Delia up from the bench.

Angelica:  This is going to go straight to your ass!

Angelica takes a large bite from it, savoring it in front of Delia before dropping the last half of it into the nearby trashcan.  Angelica has a lingering satisfactory expression on her face from the biscotti, but she continues to drag Delia along.

Delia:  You are aware z’at I have two careers, and z’is could very well ruin my fashion credibility, right?

Angelica:  What did you tell me the other day?  Credibility only matters if you are a basic bitch!  Get over it, and let’s go meet Veronica.  Maybe we could use her input on Mark’s new outfit?

Delia makes a gagging face as she walks along with Angelica.  Suddenly, a smirk comes over her face.  She leans in and whispers to Angelica who seems surprised at whatever request had just come her way.  She stops, seeming to nearly jerk Mark’s arm out of socket in the process.  The two stare at one another, having a silent conversation amongst one another, showing various tense facial expressions.

Mark  You two gonna kiss?  Save it for the show at least.

Delia tucks a piece of hair behind her ear as her face turns to a smile.  Angelica growls and crosses her arms over her chest with a mean look on her face.  Delia gives sweet and pouty eyes to Angelica, which causes her to roll her eyes and look over to Mark.

Angelica:  Ughhhh… Fine!

Delia smiles and gives an excited bounce as she comes over to Mark.  She places her hands on Mark’s broad shoulder, slowly ushering him along and away from Angelica.  He looks to Angelica questioning silently as Angelica shrugs her shoulders, practically stomping off in a fit.

Delia:  I assume you are at least a label kind of guy, no?  Wi’s z’at kind of fuck me money, you must be.

Mark:  As long as I like how it looks, then there isn’t a problem where it comes from.

Delia:  Women wear designs z’at capture attention, because we want to speak about who made it.  Men don’t care to speak fashion, so z’ey wear clear brands to say “I’m fashionable but don’t talk to me…”

Mark shrugs his shoulders as he chuckles, moving along with Delia.  She wastes no time bringing Mark to the Versace boutique, pushing the door open.  As they walk inside, the soft beat of euro electro pop plays lightly in the background.  The first thing that they are smacked in the face with is a rack of furs, one of which looks as if it were second hand from Cruella DeVille.  Mark looks rather unimpressed by this, but Delia pushes him along to the Men’s department.  He looks around at some of the clothing options and he laughs at her, leaning against one of the mahogany shelving unites on the wall.

Mark:  If ya think I’m gonna slide my beefy arse into some of those skinny leg huggers they call pants, you better start considering hanging your head in shame for the rest of the day.  No room for my bollocks in there.

Delia:  Pfffft!  I know you are not Spike Staggs.  Who are we kidding?

The two share a small laugh, but it is enough to convince themselves that this might not be as difficult of an afternoon as they might have thought. Delia begins scanning the racks, flipping through outfits with her keen eye, meanwhile speaking.

Delia:  It is, after all, one s’ing z’at we can agree on.  He is a sniveling man brat who only wishes he was half the man you are.  Down to his very group of associates, even.

Mark:  People expect me to be bitter about it.  But, I just have to sit back and look at the facts.  I started a group like NXT about seven years before he did.  He was part of it.  I had more World Championship reigns than him.  I can’t blame him for standing in the shadows of things I’ve done many times over. Can’t blame the arsehole for wanting to be me.

Delia:  I see them on Twitter, and it takes everys’ing wis’in me not to respond wi’s laughter.  It is amusing when z’e talentless call me, of all people, talentless.

Mark blinks as if he is confused by her statement, when he knows very well what she is talking about.  He shakes his head in dismay as he looks over to see her still moving through the clothes on the racks.

Mark:  I give it mere months before you own the Bombshell Division.  And everyone knows it.  That is why they are spreading rumors on your.

Delia:  You s’ink it will take me z’at long?  Such a shame…

She offers him a playful wink as she comes back around the rack, waving it off as a waste of time.  She moves along to the next display, scoffing at it before wondering over to the mannequins against the wall.

Mark:  Well, we’ll see how you and Veronica do against Electra and Cindy this week. Maybe I will change my tune.

Delia:  Just let me at Vixen or Roxi next week, and I will prove I am better z’an z’e bo’s of z’em.

Mark:  I couldn’t do that… I would be accused of favoritism if you got your shot before Brandi did…

Delia scoffs and places a hand in Mark’s face, though it seems more playful than malicious this time.  She studies a particular suit, admiring the aesthetic for a moment before speaking again.

Delia:  I am better z’an z’at cow.  I am better z’an any basic you s’row in my way.  Give me Cindy Warren and I will send z’e Nurse to z’e hospital… Try to shock me wi’s Electra, and I will show you a dud.  Roxi and Vixen are too wrapped up in men, z’ey wouldn’t even notice if I took z’e belt from z’em.

Delia finally gives the outfit a nod as Mark seems unsure.  She waves over one of the storekeepers, pointing to the outfit.  The man smiles politely as he comes over.  Without even giving him a chance to speak, she heads him off.

Delia:  Vogliamo provare questo, grazi.

Shop Keep:  Subito, signora.

Delia nods as he surveys Mark’s size and walks to the back to retrieve the outfit of choice.  Within seconds of his departure, Delia looks back over to Mark with a devious smirk on her face, even going as far as to crinkle her nose.

Delia:  And since when do you care about playing favorites?  Say it however you will, but don’t try to bullshit z’e bullshitter, Mr. Ward.  Sean Jackson gets handed z’e ACW Championship, literally handed.  Drew gets a shot at z’e Roulette Championship.  Mou’spiece Max and Duke get to run amuck over SCW wi’s no consequence…

Mark:  First off, YOU run amuck over the bombshells, and even escaped being fired for attacking an interviewer.

Delia wants to argue this point, but instead she simply smiles, nodding her head with a slight giggle of pride.  Mark snickers under his breath as well.

Delia:  I guess we are bo’s guilty in zi’s way, are we not?

Mark:  You’re only guilty of something if you get caught.  I admit to nothing here.  You know, I always thought you were just a rotten bitch who inconveniently cock blocked me every day between Sunday and Saturday… but you aren’t all that bad to be around.

Delia:  Z’at is z’e nicest s’ing I’ve heard from anyone outside of Mean Girls, so I will choose to take it as a compliment.

The shopkeeper calls over to Mark, breaking up their “moment”.  Mark follows the man over to the dressing rooms.  Delia walks with him as they make their way to the large room partitioned off with curtains, brightly lit with mirrors reflecting from several angles.  Delia turns her head as the shop keep pulls a curtain in front of Mark.  She waits for a moment in silence before a thought crosses her mind.

Delia:  You know…  I have been trying to play nice wi’s Erik Staggs, trying to work my way up z’e Bombshell ladder.  I s’ink I have proved I am not to be messed wi’s.  Mean Girls are not to be messed wi’s.  Yet, all I got was a face full of his ass in return.

Mark:  Yeah.  If I’m honest, I can’t stand that old imp.  He’s a real tosser, but he brings support, or money, from a certain fan base, small as they might be.  It is what happens when you align yourself with someone like him.

Mark goes quiet behind the curtains as Delia thinks it over.  She shakes it off with a sigh as she leans against the door frame, taking in the silence for a moment longer.  Mark interrupts the silence as he is heard struggling with something for a second before speaking.

Mark:  That’s why you should reconsider who you align yourself with.  Some people might be more beneficial to your career than others.  There is a force in SCW that will be unstoppable, and it would be a good idea to look into it.

Delia looks caught off guard by this statement.  She doesn’t exactly know how to respond right away as she fumbles with her belt for a moment.

Delia:  I s’ink we should consider ourselves to be z’e unstoppable force in z’e Bombshell Division… alone.  We are Mean Girls, and we don’t play well wi’s os’ers.  I’m sure you understand

Mark:  I understand, but I can’t be held accountable for what might happen to you guys if you were to, say… get in the way.

Delia:  I assure you, we can handle ourselves just fine, Mr. Ward, but s’ank you for your concerns…

With that, Mark opens the curtain to reveal a black dress shirt, covered by a black dress jacket, sporting what appears to be cargo pockets on the front with golden buttons.  The pants seem to be a little more fitted to Mark’s Adonis frame, with matching cargo pockets on the legs.  It seems to go well with the shoes that he is already wearing.  Delia looks at the shirt that sports silver pin stripes.  She brings the collar of the shirt over the outside of the jacket, loosening the tie just slightly.  She ruffles Mark’s hair quickly and then gives a nod of approval.

Delia: Très magnifique!

Delia turns him around to see his reflection in the mirror on the wall.  He rubs his chin as he admires his reflection, tilting his head back to get a good view of himself.  He smirks and nods his head as he looks over to Delia.

Delia:  Just be careful, because Angelica might have to drag you back to the hotel room if she sees you like z’is…

Mark:  Not that I haven’t loved this little meeting, but that only makes me want to go track her down, and quickly.

Delia snickers as Mark pulls his wallet from the jeans he’s holding in his hand.  Delia stops it, and reaches into her white clutch purse.  She pulls out a card and hands it to the shopkeeper.  He takes it with a smile as Delia slowly follows him.  Mark looks confused.

Delia:  Consider it to be a gift of my appreciation… for z’e flight, and… any os’er ways you might be able to make my life a little easier in Sin City Wrestling…  Just promise me you will leave z’e rags sitting in here?

Delia smirks as she disappears from the dressing room.  Mark mulls this over for a moment in his head before pulling his wallet and keys from the jeans, dropping them directly on the ground.  He follows Delia out of the room as the lights slowly wane.
[*Fade*]



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”Beauty is on the outside.  We face our inner monsters far too often to ever consider our insides to be beautiful.  Anyone who says it is simply lying.” –Delia, darling if you must


The marble columns inside of the Hotel Brunelleschi in Milan glow with each strike of lightening that radiates in the sky.  The lobby of the hotel, with its black and white checkered flooring echoes the clicking of high heels.  It can only be assumed that these heels belong to a very elite set of women.  Veronica Taylor, Angelica, and Delia walk through the lobby from the elevators, and none of them look pleased.  Their attitudes almost seem more disgusting than the horrible weather outside.  Delia is wearing a black and white horizontal striped business suit, large, dark sunglasses, and an almost oversized sun hat that is black and white striped as well, displaying black hair with blonde bangs.  Angelica’s hair is tied back as she sports a radiant orchid sun dress and sparkling silver heels.  Veronica is wearing a fitted pantone skirt that goes to her knees, and a white blouse ruffled in the front.  Delia sits down on one of the benches near the plants to their left, as another flash of lightening crashing in the distance.

Delia:  I can’t believe it.  I simply can NOT believe z’is is happening!  We’re in Milan, a city full of z’e most beautiful parks in Europe, and we cannot even visit z’em!

Angelica:  Honey, it’s okay.  Maybe tomorrow we can…

Delia:  Do you idiots even check z’e weas’er reports?  Rain, rain, lightening, clouds, shitty fucking weas’er until z’e day we depart for z’e Congo!

Delia rattles off in an irritated tone at Angelica who simply holds her hands up in surrender.  Veronica snickers in the background as she leans against one of the marble columns.  She leans away, noticing it is a little more dusty than she would like, looking disgusted as she wipes a finger against it.

Delia:  I can’t believe it, Angie…  I wanted to rub it in everyone’s face z’at we escaped z’at fils’y, disgusting place for a beautiful eutopia.  But instead, we are stuck inside of z’is *air quotes* Four Star hotel…

Angelica:  Well… it could be worse?

Delia chuckles sarcastically, tilting her head back to emphasize it.  After a second of this, she turns her attention back over to Angelica, tilting her head to the side to stare at her through her cold and calculating shades.

Delia:  Oh, it can?  It can?!  Why don’t you tell me how it could be any worse z’an z’is?  I’m listening…


Meanwhile…

We come in to see a cloudy sky over the Lola La Bonobo reservation for primates.  Off in the distance, lightening strikes, as if perhaps coming from Milan itself.  A faint rumble is heard moments later as we scan across the grassy area.  We find Alex Jeffries, AKA Holly Wood, and Tessa Flannigan standing near the edge of the trees, batting away at mosquitoes.  A woman with thin braids, dressed in a camouflaged tank top and matching cargo shorts walks up to them with a monkey gently caressed against her chest.  She smiles sweetly as she looks between the two.

Guide:  I would like you to meet Asali.  She is of two years old…

Tessa leans over to Alex, nudging him against the side as she whispers through clinched teeth.

Tessa:  Ye know yer gonna pay for this later, right?

Alex:  Oh come on, gurl, it ain’t that bad…

As if right on cue, as the guide speaks indistinctly, Asali climbs down and approaches Alex and Tessa with a sweet look upon her face.  She leans down on the ground just a few feet away from them as Alex gasps at the cuteness of her.  He leans down and begins to call to her as she scratches her belly.

Guide:  Sir, it is not wise to stoop to their level because…

*SPLAT!*

We look over to see Alex with some sort of brown matter dripping from his face, his eyes clinched closed as Tessa laughs and points at him.

Guide: … it can be seen as a sign of weakness to be below them…

Alex slowly nods his head as Tessa trips, falling face first into a pile all on her own…


Back to you, Deelz!

Delia continues to stare at Angelica as she waits for an answer.  Angelica simply shrugs her shoulders as if she can’t come up with a reasonable explanation.  Delia looks satisfied with this as she turns back and begins pouting.

Veronica:  You act like it isn’t a miracle we were lucky enough to get out of that place to begin with.  I mean, at least we got to shop the Quad instead of one of those dusty, dirty African markets…

Delia:  But how will we rub it in z’ere faces?  Hm?

Veronica:  Uhhh duh… We show up without all of those mosquito bites, looking rested and relaxed instead of worrying if some primitive bird will swoop us up in our sleep from our paper shacks?

Delia doesn’t seem amused by Veronica’s answer as she lifts her glasses up, strictly so Veronica can see her blinking slowly at her.  Delia finally rolls her eyes as she leans back on the bench.

Delia:  I suppose you are right…  I mean, it has been wonderful being away from z’is tour, enjoying z’e beautiful sights of Milan.  I just wish I could have shown you z’e beauty side of it here.

Angelica:  See?  That’s a bright side.  We’re back in a society rather than around a bunch of starving children to make us feel sad…

Veronica:  I know, right?  It makes me want to adopt one or seven of them like Angelica and Brad.

Angelica:  Ugh, totes!

Delia shakes her head at their almost airheaded remarks.  She leans down into her black and white striped hand bag and she pulls out the Burn Book, placing it on her lap.  She looks over to the two ladies, and then to the camera, acknowledging it for the first time.

Delia:  Since our day is ruined, we might as well read some bitches.  It always makes me feel better to just let it out.

Angelica:  You want to do that in the lobby?  We have more room in our rooms upstairs…

Veronica:  Why not here?  We’ve been stuck in those rooms all day today.

Delia nods her head.  She pulls out a couple of photos of the gorgeous blonde bombshells known as “The Nurse” Cindy Warren and Electra Styles.  She holds them in between her fingers as she stares at both of them.  A smile crosses her face as she shuffles the photos quickly, holding them out with their backs toward Veronica.

Delia:  Pick z’e first victim, darling…

Veronica thinks it over, hovering her fingers over one of the photos before moving to the other.  She bites her lip nervously before finally lifting one away from the other.  Delia smirks as she turns the photo around for her to see it, while running a purple glue stick over it.  She then presses it onto the next blank page of the book, running her finger around the edges.  She then pulls out the pink sharpie and writes on the photo.

<img src=http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v674/GXWSpikeStaggs/ElectraStylesBurnBook_zps4cbc8bdb.png>


Delia:  First up, we have Electra Styles.  Interesting as she is z’e only one who seems to have any fire in her.  She wanted to start a little Twitter war wi’s us, but we don’t waste our time wi’s nobodies who have not yet proven z’emselves here.  Why should we?  We’re z’e Mean Girls, and we have better s’ings to do.

Veronica:  Ugh, totally.  We played nice for a minute, acting like we cared, but then she couldn’t get the hint.  She’s lucky we even realized who she was to begin with…

Delia nods her head in agreement.  She thinks it over for a second before placing the pen to the notebook.  She quickly scribbles down something out of view of the camera, before scratching the pen against the page with two harsh strikes.  As she lowers the book, we see two lines underneath the word “Homely”.

Veronica:  “Homely”?  Seriously?  That’s what you have to say about her?

Delia:  Now, now, darling… hear me out.  Electra Styles has beauty.  It is just buried under z’ose wretched rags she calls clo’es.  In a business where you stand out for one reason or anos’er, being homely is one of z’e worst s’ings one can be.  If she were to leave now, no one would remember her.  It’s simply dreadful…

Angelica:  I see what you mean.  If we were to stay here in Milan and refuse to return to the tour, people would remember us because we are so pretty and popular, right?

Delia nods her head slowly with a smile on her face.  Veronica slowly starts to comprehend it, though she still doesn’t seem to be thrilled with the lackluster choice of insult.  Delia folds her hands in the center of the book as she looks back to Veronica.

Delia:  It is understandable.  I mean, she could very well stand out more, but it seems z’e years of playing mommy has caught up to z’is one.  She lost her spark.  Her shine is gone.  Z’e only s’ing she has to speak of is… defeating you, Veronica.  And outlasting you in z’e Battle Royal two weeks ago.

Veronica:  Ha ha, very funny bitch…

Delia:  Well, you already know she is going to talk about it, so why not beat her to z’e punch?  It stings less when a friend speaks z’e tru’s, no?

Veronica:  We’ll see how you like it then…

Delia stares at Veronica, snapping her fingers before turning her head to purposely ignore her.  She holds one hand up at Veronica as she continues.

Delia:  You got lucky, Electra.  Veronica has not gotten used to being back in z’e six sided ring.  Z’is match will be z’e one where she gets it all back.  And wi’s me as her partner, you definitely stand no chance, by looking at your partner for z’e week.  Good as you might be, you can’t carry her weight on your shoulders too, darling…

Delia smirks as she unscrews the cap to the purple glue stick once more.  She runs it over the back of Cynthia’s picture slowly, to make sure to cover it properly.  Once she does, she slaps the picture on the empty page next to Electra’s page.  She scribbles Cindy’s name on the picture in cute lettering.

<img src=http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v674/GXWSpikeStaggs/CindyBurnBook_zps05a49638.png>


Veronica:  At least come up with something interesting for this one please?  She’s almost as homely as Electra, and even more forgettable too, so it might be tough.

Delia:  Yes, it is very tough.  At least Electra has a victory to her name.  And she came close to winning z’e Battle Royal two weeks ago.  You even outlasted her in z’at match.  What can we even say about her z’at leaves a lasting impression, because she doesn’t!

Angelica:  Oooh!  You could talk about how she’s, like… ummm… just one of the backstage staff who thinks they can cut it in the ring?  Since she’s like the nurse and stuff?

Delia:  Darling, I s’ink z’at is just her lame gimmick.  Sounding like a more productive member of society is all she has to cling too, I’m afraid…  Z’ere simply is nos’ing else to her…

Delia sets the book down flat on her lap, with her hand resting comfortably on the page with Cindy’s picture.  She waits a moment while Angelica lets it settle in.  Veronica nods her head as she steps over toward Delia, sitting down on the bench next to her.

Veronica:  It makes me mad that we have to face her.  I’ve already faced her twice.  What more do I need to prove?  It’s like they don’t want us to move forward in this company.

Delia:  Z’at is obvious, darling.  But no matter how hard z’ey try, z’ey will never hold us back.  If z’ey want to s’row us weak opponents, z’en we will just move over z’em same as anyone else.  When we win more and more, z’en z’ey will have no choice but to take us seriously.

Veronica:  I guess so…

Delia nods her head in reassurance.  Veronica shrugs her shoulders as she looks away from the book, obviously over it now.  Angelica pats Delia’s arm to reassure her at the same time.

Delia:  It is okay…  Neis’er one of us has been defeated since your return and my debut.  We have not been pinned, or tapped out.  Cindy has been pinned, by her partner.  Electra has embarrassed her partner, so z’is begs z’e question… Can Electra trust her?  If I were her, I would keep an eye on Cindy at all times, because I’m sure she will be looking for revenge.  Or, even just a way to try to make an impression.  Who can blame her?

Angelica:  That is a good point.  I mean, when someone is so basic, it doesn’t leave them much choice.

Delia:  Listen ladies… Electra?  Cindy?  We will not be taking it easy on you because we want z’e momentum going into z’e African Supercard wi’s a win to our names.  We plan to beat your asses and prove why we are z’e dominant Bombshells in Sin City Wrestling.

Delia finally pens a message next to Cindy’s name.  She writes “Forgettable…”  She turns it around for the camera to zoom in on, reassuring us of the message.  The camera zooms back out to show Delia, Angelica, and Veronica on the bench.  Delia smiles as she looks directly into the camera.

Delia:  Expect us to walk out of z’ere on top, because we are z’e Mean Girls, and Mean Girls always win…  It is nos’ing personal. It is business as usual for us.  We just don’t waste time on listening to basics.  But, just know z’is…  We don’t hate you because you are basics… You are basics because we hate you.

With that, Delia closes the book carefully, so not to disturb the photos.  The Mean Girls look over to the door to see that the weather has let up some outside.  They look back to the camera, gently waving in a faux sweet manner as we fade out to black.
[*Fade*]
<img src=http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v674/GXWSpikeStaggs/Delia052014No2_zps021d3126.png>