The city of Long Beach, California is famous for the boardwalks that crisscross this Pacific coast beach that carries its name. The beautiful, the rich and the famous all come from around the world come to patronize the area with its constant warm temperatures and to show off their hard earned bodies. If it comes from hard work with a personal trainer or the scalpel of a skilled plastic surgeon does not matter the beautiful come to show those of lesser breeding and lack of funds this is what the rich and beautiful look like and you don't. Sure some people look beautiful through genetic gifts that have no money and are snatched up like little pets, eye candy by those with the money and looks. These people of lack of money and being born of the right pedigree prostitute themselves so that they can go to all the right parties, be seen by all the right people, hopefully become the mistress or a second wife for someone rich so they do not go back to the trailer park they came from. Feigning ignorance like previous pets those that came before them that their "loves", their sugar mamas or papas, are cheating on them with someone younger, more attractive until they find themselves kicked to the curb for the next model. Forgotten that is the way of things for the rich, beautiful and famous if one is not one of them they do not belong.
Still people flock to the beach to get seen dressed in swimsuits that cover less than most expensive lingerie to play with the sharks and they often get bit coming for more. Sometimes the melodrama that is Long Beach is changed as something new comes into town that many people would be talking about. That all the rich, beautiful and famous would want to be seen at. Where a young wannabe for Vanderpump Rules hopes to get their attention. Not the beach, which can be so gauche but an event that brings everyone out. Coming from Las Vegas is Nevada's top professional wrestling outfit, Sin City Wrestling, to Long Beach's The Gold Mine Gym for one show only. Everyone who is anyone in Long Beach will be there and any young girl and buck looking to be a toy, a pet to a one of those same people plan to make a scene.
This is why coming to a location like Long Beach, California makes debuting Sin City Bombshell, Brittney York so happy. She loves the male and women sluts flaunting themselves to someone like her. She is one of the rich, beautiful and famous that is on all the tabloid covers with all the paparazzi love to follow invading her privacy printing stories true or made up to sell their papers. The little rats of the celebrity media hide in their trees, little holes with their cameras with the long scopes trying to get a scandalous picture or three to make their disgusting livelihoods unlike someone like herself born with wealth, prestige and of course beauty. Her beauty is not bought by money at the hand of a skilled plastic surgeon with a waiting list that can go back years. Hers comes from her illustrious breeding and work outs with the best trainers money can buy for both in her personal gym and other places if she felt the need.
Boredom comes so easily to someone as gifted in life as Brittney York it is always the same routine over and over again. Parties. Charities. Shopping. Parties. Shopping. Laying around drinking while laying down next to your private pool in a bikini showing off all gifts of your perfect body while being cared for head to foot by the very peasants paid to do such a thing. What is one to do to elevate the boredom and remind the world that they are superior to those beneath them? Which just happens to be just about everyone. Brittney could have taped herself having sex with someone famous and let it out in the media to launch some sleazy career of acting, a singing career then leading into a reality celebrity show where cameras would follow her whole life worse than the rats spying on her now. Sure it worked for talentless flakes like Paris Hilton, an American of new money and other American famous people had done. She could go into modeling like some of her distant cousins, but alas it would be the same as before just posing for pictures all day with the same kind of boredom. In the end, they were fools with no dignity at all for whom they are. They should not go down to their lesser's level taping sex acts and flaunting their bodies with nothing to show for it. Acting is something Brittany has been doing since she was born.
Brittney wanted to find something that she can remind everyone that proper breeding, wealth and beauty mean everything that in the end no one can compare. Can even compete. An accident of fortune she discovered professional wrestling, the kind based in the United States and other areas of Europe. All the women born of lower status battling it out in front of crowds of their equals cheering them on. This interested Brittney for this was the perfect way to show her superiority to those beneath her. Make them want her. They would hate her because she is a reminder of just how superior she is to the rest of them. So she trained brought in the best trainers money could buy and found that she indeed was great at this. Which is no surprise to her after all with the right breeding you can accomplish everything you do. When she entered the ring for the first time, she crushed her opponent. Then another and another until she got a call to join Sin City Wrestling, which she took with gleeful and sadistic pleasure.
And now here in Long Beach, California, Brittney York is about to make her debut here in American against some American dressed like cheap trailer trash known as J.D. Phoenix. Someone who obviously does not care how she looks or even takes time to do so. How drool. A debut against someone much lesser than her, but that should not surprise Brittney at all. No one is on her level in any way, but that is the price she pays for being born rich and beautiful.
Instead of staying with all the rest of the Sin City Wrestlers here in Long Beach, Brittney rented a private beach house and beach for her needs while staying here in California. Laying back in the sun dressed in a bikini covering little of her carefully sculpted body that cost more than most peasants make a year, Brittney sips her drink enjoying herself. It has been a hard week of training and she is taking the day off. Letting all those spying rats of social media get their pictures and scandals as she lays here waiting for just the opportunity.
"Ma'am, a Miss Abigail Lane is here for her appointment." The voice of one of her servants she brought along from Britain breaks her out of her thoughts. She cannot seem to remember his name, not that it matters they are all Jeeves to her.
Standing beside this old butler "Jeeves" is a woman with glasses, messy brown hair with possible split ends, dressed in a flock of clothing covering her from neck to toe that obviously came from some local store like JC Penny's. Her pose slouching and nervous obviously uncomfortable with Brittney thin skimpy high priced bikini choose to wear. Well, Brittney was not going to get dressed when there is much wonderful sun out today. The only saving grace for this Miss Abigail Lane is her skin tone and possibly what she is hiding underneath those too many layers of interview clothes.
Waving in a gesture to "Jeeves" in her imperial manner. "You may leave us now. You will be chimed if needed." in her crisp accented English.
Miss Lane just stands there with her leather folder over her chest if some sort of protection as Brittney finishes scrutinizing her in silence. Abigail swallows deep as she feels those eyes seem to give her some destain pealing away everything in front of her. Her throat going dry as the awkward silence continues until the English woman in speaks.
"So you believe that you can be my personal attaché." Brittney finally speaks breaking the defining silence.
Abigail stumbles over her words. "Yes... ahh yes. I do." She can see the disappointment in Brittney's face.
"Is this how you, Americans, conduit yourself?" Brittney retorts. "Can you not speak English in some manner without it being jumbled in some bloody word Babbage? My attaché needs to communicate for me especially when I speak to your people. Can you do that or are you wasting my time?"
"No, Ms. York." Abigail straightens up. "I don't stumble over my words like that. It won't happen again."
Her eyebrow raised looking over at Abigail skeptically. "Why should I hire you?"
"Well because I have my BA in Communications and Personal Relations at Stanford. I worked my intership at.." Abigail stating her qualifications.
Rolling her eyes. "No, no. No. I want to know why I should hire you. I already know your qualifications." Brittney York interrupts in frustration.
"I work hard. I will do my best for your publicity inside and outside of your chosen profession. I have high marks from my employers. Ms. York." Abigail says.
Brittney sighs. "Can you say I work as a wrestler what the Sin City Wrestling calls a Bombshell?"
Abigail gulps. "Yes, I can I did not know how to address you about that."
"Indeed." Brittney looks at her. "I am not ashamed that I choose to enter a wrestling ring. I choose to do this not that I need the money to pay off debts or even make rent. I have plenty of money. I wrestle in the ring because I enjoy putting upstart little girls in their place. It is a hobby you can say. A bloody good one at that."
Brittney goes on. "Just like facing my poor trailer trash opponent, J.D. Phoenix at my match this week. She calls herself the with the offensive moniker ' The Princess of Kickass'. She has aspirations that she cannot possible succeed at. Defeating someone of breeding such as myself. And being a princess. The vulgarity of calling yourself a title you have no right to call yourself. She does not have the breeding, the wealth, the pedigree to even be considered a princess. It is insult to those of us that have our rightful titles, where this American thinks she can call herself that without any reproductions. Which I will be personally delivering to her at this upcoming Climax Control. I won't even break a sweat kicking her ass as she would put it."
"J.D. Phoenix? Ms. York I studied what you do and who you are before I came here. I even looked up the information on your opponent and found nothing." Abigail adds hoping to impress her hopeful employer. "It was like she came out of nowhere. I checked every contact I could. there is nothing really on her except for this." She hands Brittney a file from the folder she pressed against her chest.
"Really?" Brittney sips her drink taking the file looking it over. "They come out to prove themselves against someone like me and I bring them down as if they are nothing. It matters not if she has a past or not. She does not matter other than a notch on my wrestling victory record." Pausing looking at something. "This file is impressive even with very little on my opponent."
For the first time the redheaded Abigail straightens up with a smile. "I said I was good, Ms. York."
"Indeed." Matter of Factly coming from Brittney as she puts down the file. "I will retain you on a trail basis for the next month and if you prove yourself I will keep you in my employ."
"Thank you, Ms. York." She smiles.
"Call me Brittney, Abigail. We will be working closely together." She smiles sipping her drink. Her new project this Abigail Lane will be something to pass by the boredom of being rich, beautiful and famous other than knocking around little lemmings like J.D. Phoenix.
