Booked To Win?
Inside of a large mansion decked out with almost every shade of white imaginable from the curtains to the white marble pillars to the white leather furniture, there are many people sprawled out randomly. Everyone is asleep as the sun has just freshly risen in the sky. It sparkles off of the large pool seen through the window with a few white beach chairs sitting on the deck. As we go around the room, we notice a few famous faces ranging from the lower end of Chanelle Martinez and Torielle Jackson to Jay-Z himself! Despite the beautiful decor inside of the mansion, there is trash strewn about. Over next to the white marble stairs, there are two large plastic bubbles on each side of the steps, one at the top and one at the bottom. Inside, there are a couple of cage dancers sleeping, curled up like babies. Slowly, Chanelle Martinez is awakened by the maids who walk in to start clearing up the mess. Chanelle yawns as she looks around, hardly remembering the party at all.
Maid: Sorry miss, I certainly did not mean to startle you.
Her soft voice compliments her Dutch accent nicely as she calmly apologizes to Chanelle. Instead of reacting angrily, Chanelle nods her head softly and fumbles around in her purse with one hand while she holds onto her head with the other one. She pulls out a pack of cigarettes and lights one up, feeling ashamed for doing so.
Chanelle: Damn, how much did I drink last night?
She gets up off of the long white abstractly artsy leather couch and adjusts her black sparkling mini skirt. Once it is satisfactory, she pulls down her plain black tank top and her bright red undershirt to cover up her lovely lady lumps. She puffs on the cigarette as she walks over to the door, staring out at the pool for a moment before walking barefooted out to the patio. She stands at the edge of the pool, thinking to herself…
”How did I get here? Not like, here at this fancy ass mansion party, but here at this point in my life. I got my girls at my side, especially Torielle, and it couldn’t be better. Running a clothing line from my money I made in 3WL, chillin’ wit celebrities… It’s like a dream come true, ain’t it girl?
“Something is missing. The passion I used to have for this sport just ain’t in it no more. People in Sin City don’t look at me like the World Class wrestler I used to be in 3WL. They think of me as that ghetto ass chick who walk around wit her friend and get her ass kicked by stupid lil bitches, when they even lucky enough to be on the card at all. I wanted to do something small because that’s where my roots be, and that’s where I wanted to fade from the scene. Fuck the World Wide shit. I came to win, and bitch, I’m gonna do just that.”
Chanelle takes another long puff from the cigarette and leans down to the pool, soaking the half lit cigarette before tossing it over to another pile of butts off to the side. She has this genuine smile we have never seen on her before and she just can’t seem to get rid of it. Her warm ebony skin glows in the sun, even if her make-up has her looking like a damn fool right now. She closes her eyes and basks in the warmth like she was feeling God’s embrace until the shattering yell comes from the doorway to the mansion.
Torielle: GIRL! You ain’t gone believe this shit. I think I found that janky ass Erik Staggs’ reason for getting in touch wit us!
Chanelle turns around, looking startled and confused at the same time. She stretches out with another yawn, walking away from the pool to see what the fuss is all about.
Chanelle: Damn girl, I was feelin’ good sitting up here by this fancy ass pool, thinkin’ bout shit and you gotta run yo mouth about some paranoid delusional shit?
Torielle: Naw girl, I was just checkin up on Twitter to talk about last night when I saw that “Hot Stuff” Mark Ward was sayin’ some shit about people bein’ booked to win and droppin’ the ball. Who got called in to wrestle after like six damn months against some new chicks who they sinkin’ money into like cray? Us!
Chanelle: Girl, you still drunk because that don’t many any sense! I been on Erik about getting us a match for like months and he finally did us a favor. Instead of actin’ like a bitch about it, maybe you should send him a thank you note or some shit?
Torielle: Like hell! I ain’t sendin’ that creepy bastard anything but a kick to the nuts. I ain’t gonna be some jobbin’ ass bitch, CeCe!
Chanelle rolls her eyes and nods her head in approval. She brushes her long black locks out of her face as she walks up closer to her tag team partner.
Chanelle: I ain’t said nothing like that. Just cause we ain’t done caught a break don’t mean we jobbin’! If you think like that, then we gone go out there and get our asses kicked. You gotta think positive about this. We facin’ some rich girls who was probably neighbors to White Chicks who only had to worry about evening gowns and caviar. We grew up on the streets and we fought for every damn thing we got. We got survival instinct while Danica Jones and Angel Kash fought to keep three pounds off they skinny asses so them uptight white boys would want them when they secretly craving this…
Chanelle turns around and puts the hydraulics to her ample backside, making each cheek bounce under her tight mini skirt. Torielle cries out like a pterodactyl with laughter. She points to Chanelle, having gotten a rise out of her. Chanelle turns around and puts a single hand on her hip, showing off the gold chain linked bracelet as she gives her the “Bitch please” look. Torielle shakes her head.
Chanelle: Now, lemme give you the REEEEEEEEEEEEEMIXXXXX baby girl… We ain’t meant to be some jobbin’ ass girls to Britney and Tiffany Wilson. Ain’t no way these two bitches can handle what we got for them in the ring. If anything, maybe Mark was talkin’ about they skinny, boney asses supposed to make us look good and they too chicken shit to say a damn thing about us to the public. So don’t you worry ya little head about us losing this one cause we got this shit on lock. Now go get yo shoes, grab mine, and we gone get outta here before Jay-Z realizes he missed out on seconds.
Torielle: Seconds? I ain’t even know there was firsts! You a damn hoe!
Chanelle: Girl, it’s Jay to the mothafuckin’ Z, of course I’m gonna break off a piece.
Torielle shakes her head and purses her lips, rolling her eyes as she walks into the mansion. Chanelle puts on a half smirk as she waits and the scene fades on out.
