"I don't like it." Shane said as he shut the mini fridge in our shared hotel room and crossed over to join me on the sofa with a chilled Coors in hand.
"You don't like what?" I said with a smirk, knowing very well what it was that he was referring to. I glanced up from the screen of my laptop and gave him what I knew to be a coy smile. One that I'm sure drove him wild in more ways than one. I asked, "Aren't you the one who told me I should be willing to work a match every so often? I've been turning down match offers from Mark and Christian for months. This one comes along, I accept, and you're unhappy."
"You know what I mean." He said with a grumble to his resonating tones.
He gripped the cap of the beer bottle with one hand and with an expert twist, popped it off. He gave it a toss across the room and it went right into the waste basket without so much as touching the edges. Was there nothing this man couldn't do that would impress? He took a long pull from the beer before he went on.
He said, "It's not you being in a match. It's the match itself. Why team with another man?"
"Shane, you're talking as if it were my idea." I smiled. "It's not as if I could team with another chick. It's a mixed tag team tournament. Surely you know that that means a man and a woman on each team."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." He said. "But teaming with Jamie Staggs? That man is a dog when it comes to women."
I looked at him and the smile could only get wider on my lips. I temporarily forgot what I was typing and leaned back into the cushions of this deluxe sofa and said, "Don't tell me that you're jealous."
Shane just turned his head to give me a smoldering look. His one eyebrow rose just a hint higher than the other and I laughed. I knew the idea of this man being jealous of any other male on God's green earth was simply ludicrous.
"Awww, forgive me." I teased, easing the laptop over to the cushion on my left so that I could turn around and lay back down across his well-muscled thighs. I looked up at him and could feel the desire radiating off of him. Literally. I could feel it.
Sorry. I am the Sin of Lust, after all. I feel the need to incorporate at least one semi-vulgar joke in every promo. If you saw the one where Shane was dancing naked for me... well, I understand husbands across the country had me to thank for a very fun evening with their wives.
"I'll think about it." Shane said, tearing his eyes away from the bounty that was offered to him. I pouted as best I could. No real need to. I knew damn well that before the day was through, that this hunk would have me bent in positions unheard of in even the most elaborate of pretzel factories.
Okay, two dirty jokes and counting.
I sat up with an audible groan and said, "You sir, are such a tease."
Shane pulled the bottle from his lips and said, "You say that every time you get put in those furry handcuffs."
"Torture." I murmured, grabbing the laptop and setting it back onto my legs. "Just like the fact you don't ever let me return the favor."
Shane shook his head, "Lady, I've seen what's happened to every man you practiced that little bondage fetish on."
"Meaning?" I smiled in questioning. Of course I knew what he was referring to, but I still get a real warm sensation whenever those times are mentioned.
Shane turned and leaned back against the couch's arm rest and kicked a foot up over his knee. He said, "Meaning, every time you get a man tied down and gagged, somehow it benefits Synn. Granted, Shipman kind of turned the tables on Synn afterwards, but the sick freak actually got a rise out of it. Oh and let us not forget about..."
"Shane." I interrupted, shaking my head.
"What?" he asked, baffled.
I replied, "Ix-nay on ou-know-who-yae."
He and I both turned and smiled at the camera.
You know who you are!
He then turned his attention back to me and quirked a brow, gazing at me in an accusing stare. He said, "And besides, I've seen both your birthday and Christmas wish lists. I know that secret little fantasy." He shook his head. "It ain't ever going to happen."
I sighed and resumed my typing. "A girl's gotta dream." I paused and looked back at him. "You know," I said. "You could have signed up for one of the entries."
"What, and risk bruising any of this?" He waved a hand over his tanned body, muscled beyond mere perfection. "I get enough battles getting Despy ready for those weekly dinners out on the town."
I chuckled and said, "Well anyway, Jamie knows his boundaries. I mean, he is a married man after all. Married to one of our own, especially. Knowing Kittie, she'd bite the damn thing off if he tried anything with another woman."
Shane mouthed 'ow!' and slowly stood up. I watched as he went off into the adjoined bedroom and called out, "Where are you going?"
He called back, "That thought just gave me chills! Gotta go recover!"
I heard the bedroom door shut and laughed. I opened up my blog again and continued with what I had been doing.
It was really invigorating for an event like this to be booked. I don't know of very many other workers in the business who pay any attention to the Golden Age of professional wrestling. They look at the matches in 'black and white' and sneer and think there is nothing there for them to learn from or appreciate.
I beg to differ.
If it wasn't for those that came before us, most of us wouldn't be where we are today. These days the word 'legend' is tossed around a little too freely in my own not-so-humble opinion. Take for example some of the men that work in promotions such as WWE and TNA. Hulk Hogan? An icon, certainly. Legend, no. People bring up the subject of 'Hulkamania' but the man would have been nothing had it not been for the machinations of one Vince McMahon. If Hogan hadn't simply been in the right place at the right time, he'd probably have been retired by now. Damn shame he wasn't. I can't stand that arrogant, self serving bastard.
Or Triple H. I've made a ton of enemies online by stating my opinions of this big ape, but he is one of the single most overrated workers in the business. Again, he wouldn't be where he is today if he hadn't married the boss's daughter.
Neither of those men even come close to being a true legend. The only current worker that even comes close is of course, the Nature Boy Ric Flair. And even then, I think the man should have hung up his tights about ten or more years ago.
That is why I am so thrilled going into this event to honor two true legends of the sport; George Hackenschmidt and Mildred Burke. Generations of wrestlers, both male and female, got into the business because of them. Perhaps not directly, but also inspired by those that they inspired. It's like a trickling water effect.
Take Mildred Burke for example.
Mildred Burke trained dozens of wresters. She inspired even more, one of whom was a young woman by the name of Lillian Ellison, better known around the world as the Fabulous Moolah. Had Moolah not been inspired by Burke, she would not have started to compete. Then she herself would not have inspired and trained so many others.
The first two true legends this business has ever known, being honored by the best that Sin City Wrestling has to offer.
I am proud to be a part of this, and facing two workers like Primetime Matthew Kennedy and the young Danica Jones, will only heighten the thrill of the ride.[
I was about to finish this little blog off when something landed right on the keyboard. I looked down and saw that it was none other than my man cake's leopard print thong. The one that he had told me that he had been wearing just this morning.
Okay. Blogs can wait.
I got up and hurried toward the bedroom.
This might take awhile!
