Post by Jessie Lee on Nov 5, 2023 14:45:58 GMT -5
Following a blindly flash of a flashbulb going off, the scene slowly came into focus with the (nearly) God-like camera displaying something that many might consider to be the opposite stylistically from the person that proverbially stood center stage; Jessie Lee. Clad in an black suit ensemble that could be best described as Tailor Made (for Greatness) for the occasion, the normally perpetually angst-fueled Australian sat upon what appeared to be a fashionably simple bar stool with either a script or an oddly think book in hand; head titled downwards as if she were intently reading.
"Turmoil....."
"A state of disturbance, confusion, or uncertainty."
Shifting her gaze from the paper to the camera, the Aussie wore a face that clearly showed that she was less than thrilled. Hell, it nearly shifted to a pure sneer before she spoke again!
"Might as well start putting a picture of my face alongside that definition 'cause that shit PERFECTLY describes my existence."
After haphazardly tossing the script over her shoulder, Jessie shifted her posture so that she was aggressively leaning towards the camera; leaning on her right shoulder as her arm rested on her thigh. Clearly the focus wasn't on the art of the English language!
"In case you're too dumb to figure it out, I decided to skip the boisterous insult laden intro that you've all become addicted to in favor of something a little more.....serious. To REALLY put the DOMMY in DOMMY MOMMY, as if were."
Shifting her posture slightly more to the left, the cold fire burning in Jessie's eyes burned brightly as a bitter sneer began to fully form.
"Now, as we all know, Spookyfest went less than.....spectacularly and now we've been thrust into the annual Turmoil tournament where the Wrestler of the Year will be crowned. Starting things off this Monday night on Cruiserclash, one half of the Cruiserweight Tag Champions in Teo Blaze and myself will be setting the tone and if THAT isn't a desperate justification for allowing Jimmy Jackson to act as a participant then I don't know what is."
"Seriously......"
Sitting up straight, Jessie's contempt seemed to be on full display as she unbuttoned the blazer she wore.
"You'd think that a man that SHOULD have cemented himself as THE go-to for things like this wouldn't be playing the role of understudy from whomever was holding the Cruiserweight strap for longer than a month. 'Cause let's be real, if Homes hadn't decided to move to Shitfaced Mountain then he'd be toiling away trying to make some shit like the Two Gents versus Red, White and Bruised thirty-six remotely sound interesting or whatever job squad Bunga drags up outta Omega hell to keep them satisfied as they ride out their contracts for another few years of acting like kings over the prime example of a dead division in Action Wrestling."
"Don't get it twisted."
"I ain't insulting or trying to belittle the disgustingly flagrant use of the Babyface Bible of Genericism that's held him an' his boy Jenson together for the last few years nor am I stupid enough to try an' say that he isn't good enough as an athlete to be in the Turmoil Tournament; 'cause he is. However, what I AM trying to drill into your dense little cone heads is that when you perpetually no diff your ENTIRE division over an' over that you eventually become king of shit."
"An' a mid shit king ain't makin' it outta the first round."
Hopping off of the stool, the young woman stared into the camera with an oddly silent rage as she shimmied the blazer from her person and tossed it to someone off camera; unbuttoning and rolling up each sleeve as she began speaking again.
"I've been grindin' TOO fuckin' hard to simply let some smug little spider fucker who chose the easy fuckin' path to just waltz in to TAKE what I've EARNED; my spot in Turmoil! I have fought an' clawed against every hard-nosed, smug, delusional, ungrateful, self-loathing bitter piece of shit that's considered a veteran of this business an' you think that just because your stupid little gimmie gimmicks from Cruiserclash are actually going to work? Bish, if they EVER worked they would've already an' ya wouldn't be the picture perfect definition of what it is to succeed downward; to be the most victorious LOSER that WCF, UCI, or Action Wrestling has ever had the displeasure of employing."
"I'd make a Shadowlove comparison, but that would infer that you left some sort of last impression other than being a punching bag for anyone chasing a strap above the Television division. No, this Monday night isn't going to be just another Monday where you fall upwards with minimal effort that would even make that fat twat of a piggy snort in laughter. Instead, you're going going to have your head slammed into the truth you've attempted to blind yourself from."
"You're just not good enough."
"You're not good enough to get past this lowly loser of a cunt that every single one of your betters has had the pleasure of getting beat by. You're not good enough for the MAIN roster of Action Wrestling. Not good enough for the World strap. Not worthy of being a part of Turmoil."
"So don't take it too personally, ya clownie cunt, when I make you eat the regurgitated "holier than thou" vomit you spew every time a camera is pointed in your direction. Unlike you, I'm not content on riding same shit week in and week out; saying the same shit but only changing the name of whom I'm aimed at. 'Cause Turmoil is where I begin getting back in the right mindset to get back to what I fuckin' want; why I stepped into the professional wrestling business to begin with."
"To be the BEST."
"A foreign concept to you, I know. However, I haven't reached that part of my career where I offer empty lip service in an a vain attempt to keep a dying career afloat. I'm meeting you at the Moda Center fully prepared to do WHATEVER it takes to move on to round two and use whatever is left of your mangled corpse to make that statement. So I suggest ya get your affairs in order as I ain't one of the "Good ol' boys" that'll pity you 'cause you've been around the block."
"I ain't Balfore, Black, or Adams."
"But neither are you!"
With a rage so fierce that only the average mark might consider it sudden, Jessie lifted the bar stool and hurled it into the camera! With a thunderous crash and startled screaming off camera, the camera violently fell backwards and down to the floor; lens fracturing upon collision. Even so, the camera kept going until the Aussie had walked from the stage to stand over the camera; intensity seething from her every pore as she looked down.
"'Ey yo."
"Turmoil....."
"A state of disturbance, confusion, or uncertainty."
Shifting her gaze from the paper to the camera, the Aussie wore a face that clearly showed that she was less than thrilled. Hell, it nearly shifted to a pure sneer before she spoke again!
"Might as well start putting a picture of my face alongside that definition 'cause that shit PERFECTLY describes my existence."
After haphazardly tossing the script over her shoulder, Jessie shifted her posture so that she was aggressively leaning towards the camera; leaning on her right shoulder as her arm rested on her thigh. Clearly the focus wasn't on the art of the English language!
"In case you're too dumb to figure it out, I decided to skip the boisterous insult laden intro that you've all become addicted to in favor of something a little more.....serious. To REALLY put the DOMMY in DOMMY MOMMY, as if were."
Shifting her posture slightly more to the left, the cold fire burning in Jessie's eyes burned brightly as a bitter sneer began to fully form.
"Now, as we all know, Spookyfest went less than.....spectacularly and now we've been thrust into the annual Turmoil tournament where the Wrestler of the Year will be crowned. Starting things off this Monday night on Cruiserclash, one half of the Cruiserweight Tag Champions in Teo Blaze and myself will be setting the tone and if THAT isn't a desperate justification for allowing Jimmy Jackson to act as a participant then I don't know what is."
"Seriously......"
Sitting up straight, Jessie's contempt seemed to be on full display as she unbuttoned the blazer she wore.
"You'd think that a man that SHOULD have cemented himself as THE go-to for things like this wouldn't be playing the role of understudy from whomever was holding the Cruiserweight strap for longer than a month. 'Cause let's be real, if Homes hadn't decided to move to Shitfaced Mountain then he'd be toiling away trying to make some shit like the Two Gents versus Red, White and Bruised thirty-six remotely sound interesting or whatever job squad Bunga drags up outta Omega hell to keep them satisfied as they ride out their contracts for another few years of acting like kings over the prime example of a dead division in Action Wrestling."
"Don't get it twisted."
"I ain't insulting or trying to belittle the disgustingly flagrant use of the Babyface Bible of Genericism that's held him an' his boy Jenson together for the last few years nor am I stupid enough to try an' say that he isn't good enough as an athlete to be in the Turmoil Tournament; 'cause he is. However, what I AM trying to drill into your dense little cone heads is that when you perpetually no diff your ENTIRE division over an' over that you eventually become king of shit."
"An' a mid shit king ain't makin' it outta the first round."
Hopping off of the stool, the young woman stared into the camera with an oddly silent rage as she shimmied the blazer from her person and tossed it to someone off camera; unbuttoning and rolling up each sleeve as she began speaking again.
"I've been grindin' TOO fuckin' hard to simply let some smug little spider fucker who chose the easy fuckin' path to just waltz in to TAKE what I've EARNED; my spot in Turmoil! I have fought an' clawed against every hard-nosed, smug, delusional, ungrateful, self-loathing bitter piece of shit that's considered a veteran of this business an' you think that just because your stupid little gimmie gimmicks from Cruiserclash are actually going to work? Bish, if they EVER worked they would've already an' ya wouldn't be the picture perfect definition of what it is to succeed downward; to be the most victorious LOSER that WCF, UCI, or Action Wrestling has ever had the displeasure of employing."
"I'd make a Shadowlove comparison, but that would infer that you left some sort of last impression other than being a punching bag for anyone chasing a strap above the Television division. No, this Monday night isn't going to be just another Monday where you fall upwards with minimal effort that would even make that fat twat of a piggy snort in laughter. Instead, you're going going to have your head slammed into the truth you've attempted to blind yourself from."
"You're just not good enough."
"You're not good enough to get past this lowly loser of a cunt that every single one of your betters has had the pleasure of getting beat by. You're not good enough for the MAIN roster of Action Wrestling. Not good enough for the World strap. Not worthy of being a part of Turmoil."
"So don't take it too personally, ya clownie cunt, when I make you eat the regurgitated "holier than thou" vomit you spew every time a camera is pointed in your direction. Unlike you, I'm not content on riding same shit week in and week out; saying the same shit but only changing the name of whom I'm aimed at. 'Cause Turmoil is where I begin getting back in the right mindset to get back to what I fuckin' want; why I stepped into the professional wrestling business to begin with."
"To be the BEST."
"A foreign concept to you, I know. However, I haven't reached that part of my career where I offer empty lip service in an a vain attempt to keep a dying career afloat. I'm meeting you at the Moda Center fully prepared to do WHATEVER it takes to move on to round two and use whatever is left of your mangled corpse to make that statement. So I suggest ya get your affairs in order as I ain't one of the "Good ol' boys" that'll pity you 'cause you've been around the block."
"I ain't Balfore, Black, or Adams."
"But neither are you!"
With a rage so fierce that only the average mark might consider it sudden, Jessie lifted the bar stool and hurled it into the camera! With a thunderous crash and startled screaming off camera, the camera violently fell backwards and down to the floor; lens fracturing upon collision. Even so, the camera kept going until the Aussie had walked from the stage to stand over the camera; intensity seething from her every pore as she looked down.
"'Ey yo."
"CUUUUUUUUUUUUT! CUT! CUT!" screamed the Sleazeball director that had been in charge over the last month. With a frantic look in his eyes, the portly little man rushed to the down camera; unsure of what he should do or what her little display was going to cost. "W-w-w-why?"
"'Cause I fuckin' felt like it. Now quite bein' a little bitch an' clean this up."
"Y-you stupid cunt!" he wailed as she kicked the broken camera in his direction. "This is why nobody gives a shit about you in that stupid wrestling company. You're nothing more than a childish itle bitch that'll nev-"
"Never what?" Jessie Snarled as she held Sleazo by the throat; nails digging into his flesh "Never be taken seriously? Never be a threat? Never WHAT?"
Unable to respond, all Sleazo could down was futilely paw at the tattoo covered arm that held his throw in a vice grip. With everyone on set utterly silent, Jessie continued choking the pig-like man until she abruptly shoved him to the floor.
"I'm sick of this shit. I've been playing nice in this new rule set Craig corralled me in, but I'm well and done done with this meek ass bullshit. You can take your shitty little troupe and NEVER cross my path again. If ya do than you're goin' to end up lookin' a whole lot worse than Teo does after I tear his fucking throat out. Got that?" She snarled at the frightened man before turning away from him; walking to whomever held the blazer she had thrown earlier.
For many of the participants in Turmoil this was the time where their efforts crescendoed; where their year long journey ended. However, for her this was the moment where everything began. She was going to prove that being Tailor Made For Greatness wasn't simply a neat little brand extension; it was fact. Monday night she was going to start that fight for Greatness and there wasn't a single thing that was going to stop her.
Not Teo Black.
Not Corey Black.
Not a soul