Post by Claire Hawkins on May 27, 2018 16:44:13 GMT -5
Monday Night Clash
Jacksonville, Florida
5/21/2018
Jacksonville, Florida
5/21/2018
FUCKING BULLSHIT!' Claire thought furiously as she slammed the door closed after entering the locker room that she was using in the arena. Now her being pissed wasn't that big of a change from how she usually felt when it came to how she dealt with things within the wrestling business. If anything people should know that by now just from the various videos that have been put up. However, the anger she felt now wasn't anything close to the anger she had shown before. In her mind, she had been beaten by somebody that had the talent and the general ability level of somebody just getting into the training portion of the business. Bonnie had no personality, she had no real relatable thing about her when it came to anything. In fact, the biggest reason she had won was the fact that those in charge of the company were afraid. They were afraid to deviate from the norm. Afraid take a chance on her. That bit of odd logic was only reinforced by the matches that had been posted for the next edition of Monday Night Clash. Where she was once again dropped to the lower end of "Lower Card Hell" while four literal jobbers were placed above her! Admittedly she wasn't thinking clearly, but that pretty much told her just where they thought she belonged and just who they thought was better than her. With those thoughts swirling into a maelstrom within the confines of her mind, Claire began undressing in preparation of taking a shower to clean herself up. However, she paused after taking off her boots and looked at her bag. "To hell with it." she muttered angerly to herself before reaching into the bag.
"Hey Henri," she said after dialing the number of her friend 'you can fucking forget about that trip to London!"
"Hey Henri," she said after dialing the number of her friend 'you can fucking forget about that trip to London!"
Monday Night Clash
Tampa Bay, Florida
5/28/2018[/div
Tampa Bay, Florida
5/28/2018[/div
Claire,wearing her typical fashion, sat in on one of near fourteen thousand empty seats that were housed within the Amalie Arena prior to Action Wrestling's televised event Monday Night Clash. To be precise in was the second Monday Night Clash on the road to the company's biggest event, Evolution. On this night she was supposed to square off against a man by the name of Sam Kidsgrove, and she had nothing. After the last Monday Night Clash she had been in such a mental state that she hadn't truly thought much of the upcoming match. If she wasn't training within her own ring when she had been sitting in her haven, pretty much hiding away from anything that could possibly send her off that tipping point of rage once again. However, it was now time to reap the karma like benefits of not doing what she should have been doing. 'Fuck me.' she thought to herself as she heard the sound of the cameraman walking down the concrete steps in her direction. Unable to suppress a sigh as she thought about her current situation, Claire continued to gaze down at the ring as it was still being set up while the cameraman got into a suitable position before giving the go-ahead to begin speaking.
"Well I guess it's that fucking time where I'm supposed to come up with something witty or clever in a pitiful attempt in order to put some hype into my match that's supposed to happen in a couple of hours, but you know what? FUCK that and FUCK even trying to hype up the match. God knows that nobody else in this FUCKING company even bothers to try. In fact, the only thing anybody can seem to do around here is to throw insults at each other like god-damn grade school kids discovering that they can swear. Tell me I'm wrong, I FUCKING dare you. You know what? FUCK IT! How about I try it their way? How about I just throw insults in my opponent's direction without a FUCKING purpose just to make myself look good?"
Upon nearing the end of her little rant, Claire slowly turned her head in the direction of the camera with a look on her face that made it quite clear that she was less than amused by the realities of what she was speaking about. At least that was the reality she thought it was. Whether that was actually the case or not was truly up for debate at a later time. However, at that moment it was quite clear that she wasn't exactly up to debate anything with anybody unless they wanted to end up just another blood stain on the concrete.
"So how about it Sam Kidsgrove? Sound like any FUCKING fun to you? You know what, scratch that question. Knowing fourth rate actors like yourself it's probably part of some sort of kink you have. With FUCKED nicknames like The man of a Thousand Faces or The Protector of UCI even you have to admit something is a little bit messed up. Also, just what the FUCK is this "UCI" supposed to be? Some other company that FUCKIN died because it was so FUCKING terrible that it's so-called "Protector" gave up on it and let it die? Fan-FUCKING-tastic job there Sam. How do I know it's dead? Easy, if the place were still running then YOU wouldn't be here now would you mister failed Protector of UCI.
Failing to be The Protector of UCI aside, what else is there about you to talk about Sam? How about that fact that you're a failure of a wrestler that tried to become some kind of movie star? As everybody here can tell, that didn't turn out so well for you. Seeing as you're once again trying you're FUCKING best to be a wrestler again instead of a failure of an actor. However, I can already tell you how your second venture down this path will turn out. The best part is that it isn't much of a spoiler either. You see Sam, in a few short hours you are going to stepping into the Amalie Arena thinking that you have everything well in hand and that you have nothing to be worried about. After all you did defeat Shadowlove lase Clash and you don't have anything to fear. Under normal circumstances you would be right, you really would. However, I am not Shadowlove. I don't have an Asian whore following me around to babysit me nor do I have had the sheer amount of funding that his family has to keep him nice and cozy. In fact, the only things I have are my terrible FUCKING mood and the fact that you are underestimating me.
Now Sam, you can lie to yourself that you aren't doing so. You can tell yourself that you have everything under control and you can tell everybody that you aren't underestimating me. However, you beat Shadowlove and there just isn't any way in hell that you aren't underestimating me. News flash buddy, it's because you are underestimating me that you're going to end up laying in a pool of your own blood a pile of broken bones. For tonight that is exactly what is going to happen to you. Your so-called "movie star good looks" aren't going to FUCKING exist anymore. Not that they really mattered for a f list, movie star wannabe, wresling reject like yourself. "
Apparently done with her tirade upon her opponent for the evening, Claire stood up from her seat and made her way out on to the stairway just in front of the camera. Not thinking that was really the end of it, the cameraman began to follow after her up the concrete stairs. Until she abruptly came to a stop. Unsure of what to do, the cameraman just kept filming as she slowly turned around and began walking down towards him. Once she was within arm's reach, Claire reached out and gently tilted the camera up so that her face could be clearly seen.
"Tonight Sam Kidsgrove, you are going to suffer one of three fates. Tonight you will either be left on the mat enchanted and Spellbound, having been humiliated after being forced to submit during the Witching Hour, or forcefully finding yourself slipping into an eternal slumber as the Black Veil upon you. For tonight there is no happy ending for you. Sam Kidsgrove, tonight and from now on, you will quote the Metal Witch foreverMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE
Claire said before screaming into the camera with her banshee's wail while violently shoving the camera upwards and out of the unsuspecting cameraman's grasp. The now cameramanless camera tipped backward over the man's shoulder and tumbled down the rest of the concrete steps. By the time the camera came to a stop at the bottom, it was still able to catch some footage despite the heavily damaged condition it was in. It was almost miraculous really. With it's less now cracked and the image distorted, the camera caught footage of Claire grabbing onto the bewildered cameraman and tossing him to the side and into a row of seats. After doing so she aggressively took a step in the same direction and let loose the deep, guttural scream. Next thing anybody watching knew, flames shot upwards where the cameraman was and the pain filled screams of the poor cameraman could be heard as the camera finally faded into nothingness.
"Well I guess it's that fucking time where I'm supposed to come up with something witty or clever in a pitiful attempt in order to put some hype into my match that's supposed to happen in a couple of hours, but you know what? FUCK that and FUCK even trying to hype up the match. God knows that nobody else in this FUCKING company even bothers to try. In fact, the only thing anybody can seem to do around here is to throw insults at each other like god-damn grade school kids discovering that they can swear. Tell me I'm wrong, I FUCKING dare you. You know what? FUCK IT! How about I try it their way? How about I just throw insults in my opponent's direction without a FUCKING purpose just to make myself look good?"
Upon nearing the end of her little rant, Claire slowly turned her head in the direction of the camera with a look on her face that made it quite clear that she was less than amused by the realities of what she was speaking about. At least that was the reality she thought it was. Whether that was actually the case or not was truly up for debate at a later time. However, at that moment it was quite clear that she wasn't exactly up to debate anything with anybody unless they wanted to end up just another blood stain on the concrete.
"So how about it Sam Kidsgrove? Sound like any FUCKING fun to you? You know what, scratch that question. Knowing fourth rate actors like yourself it's probably part of some sort of kink you have. With FUCKED nicknames like The man of a Thousand Faces or The Protector of UCI even you have to admit something is a little bit messed up. Also, just what the FUCK is this "UCI" supposed to be? Some other company that FUCKIN died because it was so FUCKING terrible that it's so-called "Protector" gave up on it and let it die? Fan-FUCKING-tastic job there Sam. How do I know it's dead? Easy, if the place were still running then YOU wouldn't be here now would you mister failed Protector of UCI.
Failing to be The Protector of UCI aside, what else is there about you to talk about Sam? How about that fact that you're a failure of a wrestler that tried to become some kind of movie star? As everybody here can tell, that didn't turn out so well for you. Seeing as you're once again trying you're FUCKING best to be a wrestler again instead of a failure of an actor. However, I can already tell you how your second venture down this path will turn out. The best part is that it isn't much of a spoiler either. You see Sam, in a few short hours you are going to stepping into the Amalie Arena thinking that you have everything well in hand and that you have nothing to be worried about. After all you did defeat Shadowlove lase Clash and you don't have anything to fear. Under normal circumstances you would be right, you really would. However, I am not Shadowlove. I don't have an Asian whore following me around to babysit me nor do I have had the sheer amount of funding that his family has to keep him nice and cozy. In fact, the only things I have are my terrible FUCKING mood and the fact that you are underestimating me.
Now Sam, you can lie to yourself that you aren't doing so. You can tell yourself that you have everything under control and you can tell everybody that you aren't underestimating me. However, you beat Shadowlove and there just isn't any way in hell that you aren't underestimating me. News flash buddy, it's because you are underestimating me that you're going to end up laying in a pool of your own blood a pile of broken bones. For tonight that is exactly what is going to happen to you. Your so-called "movie star good looks" aren't going to FUCKING exist anymore. Not that they really mattered for a f list, movie star wannabe, wresling reject like yourself. "
Apparently done with her tirade upon her opponent for the evening, Claire stood up from her seat and made her way out on to the stairway just in front of the camera. Not thinking that was really the end of it, the cameraman began to follow after her up the concrete stairs. Until she abruptly came to a stop. Unsure of what to do, the cameraman just kept filming as she slowly turned around and began walking down towards him. Once she was within arm's reach, Claire reached out and gently tilted the camera up so that her face could be clearly seen.
"Tonight Sam Kidsgrove, you are going to suffer one of three fates. Tonight you will either be left on the mat enchanted and Spellbound, having been humiliated after being forced to submit during the Witching Hour, or forcefully finding yourself slipping into an eternal slumber as the Black Veil upon you. For tonight there is no happy ending for you. Sam Kidsgrove, tonight and from now on, you will quote the Metal Witch foreverMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE
Claire said before screaming into the camera with her banshee's wail while violently shoving the camera upwards and out of the unsuspecting cameraman's grasp. The now cameramanless camera tipped backward over the man's shoulder and tumbled down the rest of the concrete steps. By the time the camera came to a stop at the bottom, it was still able to catch some footage despite the heavily damaged condition it was in. It was almost miraculous really. With it's less now cracked and the image distorted, the camera caught footage of Claire grabbing onto the bewildered cameraman and tossing him to the side and into a row of seats. After doing so she aggressively took a step in the same direction and let loose the deep, guttural scream. Next thing anybody watching knew, flames shot upwards where the cameraman was and the pain filled screams of the poor cameraman could be heard as the camera finally faded into nothingness.