An ankle by any other name
We open up in the doctor’s office, sitting opposite Doctor Sanderson was Melissa Aki. Since she broke her ankle and ruptured all the ligaments and tendons, as a precaution she was asked by management to get it checked on a bi-weekly basis. So here she was with this beefcake of a man, all muscles and no substance but with the most sensitive hands she had ever known.
“Let me know if this hurts, okay Maks?” He said.
Her response was an orgasmic squeal. “All good boss man. Weee... your hands.”
He noticed that she was wearing a white sports top but he couldn’t figure out where it was from.
“So, that shirt, is it a sports team?”
“Mmm yes it is. The mighty Tottenham Hotspurs.”
He continued rotating her ankle and just smiled thinly. “Is that some european basketball team? I love that name. It’s so badass!”
She rolled her eyes first in annoyance and then in ecstasy. “Football team or as you morons call it...Soccer. I suggest you watch them, there is a great clip of us beating fellow Londoners Millwall on youtube. Go watch it later.
“Hmmph. Not my thang you know. But yes to the jersey. I don’t see much more wear and tear since your last visit. Didn’t you have a match?
Her enigmatic face turned into her infamous scowl, “Pardon my french but that basic bitch faked out. The match is delayed and all because she is running scared. I get it, I do Doc, she has never faced anyone as terrifying as little ol’ me. To bail just before I decimate her in my own match galls me to no end. She will get hers eventually and I will break those fake cheekbones if it's the last thing I do!
He looked like he was sorry he asked but the ankle was responding well. “Now I hope you have not been overdoing it on the ankle. Remember, no severe pressure on it at all. Your career could depend on it.”
She laughed loudly, “Dude, I am a wrestler so yeah I have to put weight on it but I try not to do too much. My career? You mean the laughing stock I have made out of a stellar career I once had? I am winding down the career as it is and Crystal may well be my last ever victim. So no worries on that score.
“That would be a shame at such a young age but you know what’s best for your career. Alright, all looks good. You can put your sneakers back on now. We will be seeing you in two weeks. Go ask Larachelle to book your next appointment. Have a fun weekend and do not put too much pressure on your ankle. Have a nice day, Maks!”
She got up and left, in a far worse mood than when she entered. Such is life.
The Masks We wear
Sitting on her veranda, Melissa day dreamed of London. Hearing that they had early sunshine and heat there made her miss it all the more. Life was different there than the plastic fantastic life in California. Her only link to that was Hannah, her sister, who hated her more than she hated herself. Her life here had meaning, she had a lovely home, a beautiful and psychotic wife, a demoness defiling her from within but what was it all for if she wasn’t happy. Her career had stagnated and she could barely get herself pumped up to wrestle anymore but now she had a chance to resurrect her career.
“No matter who I face I give it my all. Once upon a time I was locked up in an asylum and had violent therapy and still it did not improve me, except I won a title there by beating my now wife. Yet, somehow, I am locked away again in my own asylum of my mind. Stuck reliving those recent failures but it has made me wonder, maybe we all are trapped by our own insecurities. Yes, even that squashed up wine gum, Candy. I have beaten this hack before and I will beat her again but I could beat her without being pinned but then that harlot Kwan could rob me off my chance but this portion is not about that prima donna who thinks she has more talent than she actually does. This is about Candy. In all triple threat threesomes, there is one that is just along for the ride, one that is only there to make up the number and to eventually submit to the carnal desires of the others, use her and then dump her out the window like the trash she is. Candy, you really think this match will be fun because you love wrestling? Of course you do, you ingrate, otherwise why would you even be signed to a contract here or even call yourself a wrestler, even if you are half arse it all the time.I am tired of the merry-go-round of facing you and defeating you. Listen, for your own good, do a Crystal and bail before your life is taken into the hands of the demoness and all you will be is a pool of melted cadburys. You wont believe it is fun for long after myself and this miscreant rip your kindness out of your empty shell. You vacuous, moronic slapper. Yet, I do believe you are wearing this mask for a reason. You want the world to see you as this airhead so you get attention I would wager. Yet, there must be a seething resentment when you see people leapfrog you up the echelons of SCW. This is what I want to bring out. I want to take your soul and rip it in two and see what happens to the fun loving Candy then!”
She paused as she tried to muster the image of the Japanese sensation, Char Kwan.
“Char, you were unlucky in that Queen match. You did better than I expected of you. Of course, Alicia Lukas is one tough bitch but still one I HAVE beaten before, so please don’t be too hard on yourself, yes you failed big time but in the end rack it up to being part of the learning tree, yeah?
Kwany, I know behind that beautiful mask you wear, there is a woman that struggles. I have known about it for a long time. You struggle with the way you are perceived as why else would you feel the need to harp on about how vicious you are or will be, unless you fear the ridicule of the people that do not matter to you. Why? I ask myself why. This girl can be as ruthless as they come so why does she care? Kwany…let me change tact. Heh. I chose you, you are the chosen one for a reason. You see, you are proving yourself to be a worthy adversary But. Memory falters in this den of sin.”[/color]
She smiled as her thoughts raced to the roles of masks in humanity. “I chose you, Kwany, because you are a failure. Yes, I chose to face you in this match. It was my decision. I chose you because not even you believe you can win one of those damned shiny trinkets. I chose you because mentally you are shot. I could easily crawl inside your head, make it my home and in the next two weeks slowly and methodically tear apart your pathetic psyche. But what would be the point of that when you have done it to yourself. On the other hand…” She turned her head from left to right as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. “I shall enjoy breaking your face. Stupid clown face. I heard from one of the stupid interns I struck up a friendship with that you are highly thought of here, that the big momma slammers see you as a future Roulette champion. You will be without a face, you will fail as always, and you are just a cuckold mother jammer that does not deserve to share sweat or even touch my future championship. How dare you think you can take the championship? There is only one person who CAN take it and that’s me. You do get under people’s skin and to quote the Beastie Boys, ‘I am going to stir fry you in my wok!”
She laughed manically, “Go fuck yourself, nutjob. HAHAHHAHA Maki is in the house! Whatcha gonna do when Maki runs wild on you?!”
She suddenly and inexplicably holds her hand out and starts to skip in a circular motion, as she sings “Ring-a-ring-a-roses,A pocket full of posies, a tissue, a tissue, We all fall down.
The king has sent his daughter to fetch a pail of water. A tissue, a tissue. We all fall down”She drops to the floor of the veranda “Again. Again.” She says to herself.
“Death is coming for you, Kwany. Every time you look at me as I slowly beat you to your own death, the death of your ego, with these very boots, you will see the maker, the one who bestowed on you this despicable life that you want to escape from day after day. Even when I allow you to hurt me it is with the goal of breaking you, taking you to the point of evisceration. I am the same as that song, from the mouths of babes. You see, it is a song about the epidemic of death in the 1600’s but this is the first time you have come face to face with the black death, Kwany. I am going to annihilate you, embarrass you, rip that smug fucked up face and even worse, I am going to make an example out of you.”
A look of concern and intrigue crossed her face like a ghost, wandering through different dimensions and time looking for a new home to haunt.
“I will not lose in my shot at the roulette title again. I will not taint what I have achieved. So you can all line up and thank me especially you Kwany. You see, in the public’s eyes you are just a joke.. A person of ridicule, the nearly woman of Sin City, the loveable loser. That’s all you have ever been here. I am not like these other monosyllabic primadonna’s, I will not sugar coat anything, I will not give you the false sense of belief the dickheads give you just to laugh behind your back. I will not make you feel accepted because I might share food with you in catering, I couldn’t care less about you. You’re just the first step as I hold that damn title here so just lay down and let this juggernaut run over you because resistance is futile.“
She smiled, disconcertingly, this was more like Melissa Aki who had made her name in the world of wrestling. Had her thoughts of retirement spurred her on to new heights? Only time would tell.
