Post by Addy A on Dec 27, 2022 17:18:46 GMT -5
Addy A is completely lost in a rage, having snapped a sink off at the wall in the private bathrooms of the American Airlines Center. She slams the porcelain into the mirror, shattering the glass all across the tiled floor. Her violent outburst behind closed doors had drawn a crowd that can be heard, but not seen behind the locked door. Addy slams her fist in the already shattered glass, causing her knuckles to start bleeding. The injury does nothing to quell the thirst of her rage as slams her foot down on the bowl of the toilet. It breaks away, the resulting rush of water starts to flood the room. Unperturbed, Addy walks out of the bathroom to the wide eyes of many anonymous faces of the myriad of support staff. Her rage is palatable and a miscast glance of an intern draws her ire.
“What the fuck are you looking’ at?” she screams with a banshee’s wail, shoving past him.
“Nothing.” He responds reflexively.
“Too fuckin’ right.” she grunts, pirouetting to face him. “Ya knew he was going to do it?”
Addy shoves the scared rabbit backward into the wall, drawing her bloody fist back, it’s caught by another’s hand.
“What!?” Addy growls, turning to the interference.
“Babe. Let’s get outta here.” says Lissie Hope desperately trying to defuse her sister's rage.
Addy alternates her vision between Lissie and the intern.
“Lucky cunt.” she says, raging, spittle covering his face.
“What the fuck are you looking’ at?” she screams with a banshee’s wail, shoving past him.
“Nothing.” He responds reflexively.
“Too fuckin’ right.” she grunts, pirouetting to face him. “Ya knew he was going to do it?”
Addy shoves the scared rabbit backward into the wall, drawing her bloody fist back, it’s caught by another’s hand.
“What!?” Addy growls, turning to the interference.
“Babe. Let’s get outta here.” says Lissie Hope desperately trying to defuse her sister's rage.
Addy alternates her vision between Lissie and the intern.
“Lucky cunt.” she says, raging, spittle covering his face.
“Listen up cunt!”
Addy A paces back and forth across the room like a woman possessed.
“All ya fuckin’ bullshit comments. All ya asinine rhetoric I can fucking tolerate. But ya had no fucking place comin’ into the ring at CruiserHavoc. None. All because ya small dick ego couldn’t handle me putting you down. Twice.”
“Well cunt.”
“You better pitch ya fucking best fastball now.”
“Because I’m going to smash your skull the same way Babe Ruth smashed home runs.”
“See what you’ve gone and done is awaken the old Addy. The Addy that will stoop to the lowest of lows in the ring. The Addy that will take a potato peeler and circumcise you without anaesthetic. The Addy that will take a roll of razor wire and perform a backyard enema on you in the middle of an Action Wrestling ring. I tolerated your shenanigans until now, you were nothing more than an annoying prepubescent child that just learnt their first swear word.”
“Now.”
“You’ve fucking pissed me off.”
“I can’t guarantee I would’ve won CruiserHavoc. I’m not (quite) that fucking bombastic, but you’re unwanted and unwarranted presence in the match robbed me of that fucking opportunity.”
“Now. Cunt.”
“I’m going to rob you of an opportunity to fucking breathe again.”
“I’m going to make you Raging Dead to my Frank Lowe - and you don’t even have a ‘Derrick Vayden’ for me to treat like a simp bitch after you're gone. But you’re not going to cop it fucking easy by being buried alive.”
“No way cunt.”
“I’m going primaeval, bitch.”
Addy A stops abruptly, taking a last long drag from the cigarette she had been left burning down to butt between her fingers on her left hand. Dropping it on the ground she angrily rubs the embers out with her foot.
“Thing is, cunt - for all you think you know about me. You ain’t know fuckin’ shit about me. The cliche is only God can judge me. Fuck that noise. Judge me all you want you dumb cunt, but here’s the thing you might be the judge. I’m your fuckin’ jury and your fuckin’ executioner. Now matter what corner you paint me into, our peers are going to pass you as the peasant, the blight on society - dare I say it, a Jeffrey Epstein sycophant. I will be the one tasked with removing your head from your shoulders - not with the swift blow of a guillotine, but with a slow severing slice of a steak knife.”
“Tearing at flesh, muscle fibre, veins and arteries before through the ivory of your spine.”
“A little over the top?”
“Maybe.”
“Probably.”
“But sometimes we need to go to extremes to make certain our points are heard. Especially with ciggy-butt brains cunts like ya’self. With your lack of imagination I need to vividly paint the picture for you to understand what sort of calamities you’re going to suffer. It could’ve been a simple best of seven and I would’ve swept you out the door, but you had to change it up - you had to come for me in a world of which didn’t belong.”
“Fair play to you.”
“But now you face the fucking consequences, cunt.”
Addy resumes her manic pacing, while wrapping and unwrapping the bandage that covers the top knuckles on her left hand.
“I’ve always wanted the endorphin release and adrenaline rush that comes with fists flying and teeth breaking, it makes me wet for the lack of a better euphemism. But, now I just want to fucking hurt you Bruce. I want to make you beg like the bitch you are. It’s funny how the simple little things take things from professional to personal in the blink of an eye. And that’s what your Bunyip looking ass has done. I’d call you fucking dumb yeti but that’s an honour reserved for Holden Ross. And you’re a fatter, smellier version of that.”
“And I want to kill you.”
“Going three-zero up and continuing my record reign with the Action Wrestling Television Title is a fantastic by-product of my violence. I get the mentality is somewhat off kilter and mildly irrational. But I’m a fucking woman, what the fuck else you expect. Your dick sucked? Nah I’ll bite off like a cannibalistic Lorena Bobbitt. But we’re not going to get close to anything, Bruce. I will be strangling you with your foetid entrails until your eyeballs pop from your skull like rancid cheese.”
“Every action has a reaction.”
“And this is yours.”
Addy A paces back and forth across the room like a woman possessed.
“All ya fuckin’ bullshit comments. All ya asinine rhetoric I can fucking tolerate. But ya had no fucking place comin’ into the ring at CruiserHavoc. None. All because ya small dick ego couldn’t handle me putting you down. Twice.”
“Well cunt.”
“You better pitch ya fucking best fastball now.”
“Because I’m going to smash your skull the same way Babe Ruth smashed home runs.”
“See what you’ve gone and done is awaken the old Addy. The Addy that will stoop to the lowest of lows in the ring. The Addy that will take a potato peeler and circumcise you without anaesthetic. The Addy that will take a roll of razor wire and perform a backyard enema on you in the middle of an Action Wrestling ring. I tolerated your shenanigans until now, you were nothing more than an annoying prepubescent child that just learnt their first swear word.”
“Now.”
“You’ve fucking pissed me off.”
“I can’t guarantee I would’ve won CruiserHavoc. I’m not (quite) that fucking bombastic, but you’re unwanted and unwarranted presence in the match robbed me of that fucking opportunity.”
“Now. Cunt.”
“I’m going to rob you of an opportunity to fucking breathe again.”
“I’m going to make you Raging Dead to my Frank Lowe - and you don’t even have a ‘Derrick Vayden’ for me to treat like a simp bitch after you're gone. But you’re not going to cop it fucking easy by being buried alive.”
“No way cunt.”
“I’m going primaeval, bitch.”
Addy A stops abruptly, taking a last long drag from the cigarette she had been left burning down to butt between her fingers on her left hand. Dropping it on the ground she angrily rubs the embers out with her foot.
“Thing is, cunt - for all you think you know about me. You ain’t know fuckin’ shit about me. The cliche is only God can judge me. Fuck that noise. Judge me all you want you dumb cunt, but here’s the thing you might be the judge. I’m your fuckin’ jury and your fuckin’ executioner. Now matter what corner you paint me into, our peers are going to pass you as the peasant, the blight on society - dare I say it, a Jeffrey Epstein sycophant. I will be the one tasked with removing your head from your shoulders - not with the swift blow of a guillotine, but with a slow severing slice of a steak knife.”
“Tearing at flesh, muscle fibre, veins and arteries before through the ivory of your spine.”
“A little over the top?”
“Maybe.”
“Probably.”
“But sometimes we need to go to extremes to make certain our points are heard. Especially with ciggy-butt brains cunts like ya’self. With your lack of imagination I need to vividly paint the picture for you to understand what sort of calamities you’re going to suffer. It could’ve been a simple best of seven and I would’ve swept you out the door, but you had to change it up - you had to come for me in a world of which didn’t belong.”
“Fair play to you.”
“But now you face the fucking consequences, cunt.”
Addy resumes her manic pacing, while wrapping and unwrapping the bandage that covers the top knuckles on her left hand.
“I’ve always wanted the endorphin release and adrenaline rush that comes with fists flying and teeth breaking, it makes me wet for the lack of a better euphemism. But, now I just want to fucking hurt you Bruce. I want to make you beg like the bitch you are. It’s funny how the simple little things take things from professional to personal in the blink of an eye. And that’s what your Bunyip looking ass has done. I’d call you fucking dumb yeti but that’s an honour reserved for Holden Ross. And you’re a fatter, smellier version of that.”
“And I want to kill you.”
“Going three-zero up and continuing my record reign with the Action Wrestling Television Title is a fantastic by-product of my violence. I get the mentality is somewhat off kilter and mildly irrational. But I’m a fucking woman, what the fuck else you expect. Your dick sucked? Nah I’ll bite off like a cannibalistic Lorena Bobbitt. But we’re not going to get close to anything, Bruce. I will be strangling you with your foetid entrails until your eyeballs pop from your skull like rancid cheese.”
“Every action has a reaction.”
“And this is yours.”