That’s right hustlers, where else are you going to find the ladies with the utmost class, and the best looking ass in Sin City Wrestling? Why the clubs of course! “Pound the Alarm” by Nicki Minaj is playing over the speakers as we enter the nearly dark club. The music is so loud that it gets your hips swaying upon entry. A single red revolving light comes up over the massive crowd in the center of the club. As the alarm starts in the song, white lights flash with each pulsating beat. The sweat beads on the dancers, sending a glimmer over the camera as we move through the bar area. As we settle into the scenery, or what little we can see in the dim atmosphere, we are abruptly interrupted as Torielle Jackson is seen practically shoving her way through the crowd. Following directly behind her is Chanelle Martinez. Both women clutch their purses for dear life, getting to the exit within a matter of a minute. As they step through the doors, Chanelle lets out an excited squeal that nearly resembles a howl. Torielle stumbles on the outside and the two ladies exchange a hug, jumping up and down causing a scene.
Chanelle: Whoooooooo girl! I told you he would come through on this shit, cause he owes me.
Torielle: Hold yo damn horses chick. I’m just as excited as you but this looks shady to me. We don’t get booked for months and now they call us in? Lawd, that seems like some crazy ass shit.
Chanelle: Naw girl, I told you he was gone put in a word for us. He knows we should be the next Bombshell Tag Team Champions. Everybody knows that shit.
Torielle: I don’t trust it. He got them beady ass white boy eyes and…
Chanelle: What you said? Girl that’s almost as bad as yo last crack about Indians.
Torielle: Which ones? The aww-wawww-wawww ones of the *points to center of forehead* eh-eh-eh Indians?
Chanelle: Both! You said that last time we was booked and that’s probably why we don’t get booked cause you always sayin’ shit like that. Damn!
Torielle: Whatever, I said somethin’ about that meatball eatin’, spaghetti slurpin’ Bianca Solderini and they still booked us. That ain’t it.
Chanelle lets go of Torielle’s arm and just tilts her head to the side like if to ask if she is serious. Torielle shrugs her arms and does an “mmm-hmmm” and Chanelle just shakes her head in surprise.
Torielle: Besides that, he do got some beady ass fuckin’ eyes girl and I ain’t gone take that back. He look like Satan, and I don’t trust him.
Chanelle: Naw, he just look kinda like the dude who played him on that one show wit them sexy Winchester brothas. Supernatural, that’s it!
Torielle: And he do look like the devil, okay? You know what, shut up! Now you done made me forget my point already. Bottom line is I don’t trust him, girl. It’s cool that he helped us out but you know that dude want his back scratched and I ain’t doin’ nothin’. Everybody wants to leave us outta their shit, this is one time I say we stay outta their shit. Let’s just go in there, whoop on some bitches asses and walk out with our first win.
Chanelle: You act like that’s my fault…
Just then, as they are walking down the street, someone comes up to them, a young man with a pencil mustache on his face with the most fake French accent imaginable. He taps Chanelle on the shoulder and when she turns around he gives a fake but pleasant smile and folds his arms behind him.
Man: Pardon moi mademoiselles.
Torielle: Moi? Mademoiselles? Ey yo we be livin’ in the United States of America. We speak English here, I don’t understand Spanish!
Chanelle: Damn girl, you serious? He ain’t speakin’ Spanish, he speakin’ French. I saw that shit in Home Alone 2. Yeah that’s right.
Man: E-excuse moi, but do you think you could… umm… umm…
Torielle: Umm, ummm, ummmmmm maybe? If you would get on wit it I might be able to answer yo damn question.
Man: Would you two mind lowering your voices? Outside of the projects we don’t…
*Whoooooooooooooooooooooooooo girl!*
Chanelle hears the word “projects” and a light flickers on in her head. She looks up at the sky, signing the cross over her chest as she silently prays. Torielle cups a hand over her mouth with a resounding “Ooooohhhhhh” as she circles around Chanelle. Chanelle shakes her head, moving her lips slowly, but raising her voice with each word.
Chanelle: Lawd… give me patience because if you give me strength, I’m gonna need bail money cause I’M GONNA BREAK A BITCH!
Torielle: Daaaaamn Julio, you done messed up. Even if I wanted to stop her, she way past that point and shits about to get real ghetto here…
Man: I’m sorry, I meant no offense, but…
Chanelle: Ep! Ep! No! Get out my face!
Man: Please lower your voi…
Chanelle: Ep! Get out my face! OUT MY FACE! OUT MY FACE! OUT MY FACE! OUT MY FACE! Cause if you don’t get up out my face, I will remove yo ugly ass mug from my face, comprende?
Chanelle’s hand is flying all over the place, making the man turn a shade of red as he feels two feet tall. He looks away at his boss who is pounding a rolling pin against his hand and nodding his head. He surveys the situation and his eyes just drop down with the lose-lose situation.
Man: I seriously don’t get paid enough for this shit… Go ahead and talk like you’ve got a bull horn because quite frankly, I couldn’t give a shit, lady!
The man slams his apron down on the ground and walks off. He curses under his breath as he disappears down the street. Chanelle’s eyes widen in a bit of surprise. She shrugs her shoulders and then looks over to the owner and flinches at him.
Chanelle: Bitch ass can’t even say somethin’ to us. Girl, whatever. We don’t need our good time spoiled. Did you see who we facing this week?
Torielle: Yeah, and that’s why I ain’t worried about winning. We facin’ rich tits and her slightly more poor cousin. Like money makes you a better wrestler.
Chanelle: It do help you afford a better teacher though.
Torielle: Who cares? You been wrestling for what like ten years? These girls barely old enough for the adult film set they came off of, so how long they been at it? I ain’t worried.
Chanelle: True dat girl. Hos ain’t nothin’ but hos no matter how much they try to make us believe otherwise. They don’t stand a chance. We got this girl cause rich girls ain’t got the heart we got. We get money but shit, we wasn’t raised with money so we already got the edge on these snotty ass girls. Angel Kash and Danica Jones better be ready for the Bronx Beat Down!
{b]Torielle:[/b] We almost forgot one thing though…
Chanelle looks down at her hand as if she is trying to figure out what that might have been. She taps her chin with one finger, and then two… and then a third. She looks over to Torielle with an unsure look on her face.
Chanelle: What?
Torielle: Girl, you on some other shit right about now if you forgot. The cameras that been following us?
Chanelle thinks about it for a second and looks back at the cameras, studying them carefully. Like a lightbulb went off in her head, she points a finger up in the air and gasps heavily. She looks over to Torielle who nods her head. The both look over to the camera and say in unison…
THANKS FOR THE SHOUT-OUT FAITH!
Chanelle: Represent that shit girl.
Torielle: Damn straight…
And with that, the duo pushes their way past the cameras carefully and we fade…
