Post by Jessie Lee on Apr 21, 2024 5:05:45 GMT -5
Without any annoying intro or mind-numbing boisterous yelling, the camera faded into the simple scene of our favorite emo cunt sitting alone beneath a single spotlight that burned brightly off-screen from above. Dressed in a pair of tight gray jeans, a Bad Omens t-shirt, and a fading bruise from when her skull had met the exposed turnbuckle that Jonny Cedrone had so graciously reintroduced her to; Jessie sat hunched forward with her forearms resting upon her knees—a solemn look upon her face.
"Well, ain't this just the fuckin' shits."
"I fought my fuckin' heart out an' YET AGAIN the opportunity of a fuckin' LIFETIME slips through my fuckin' fingers. I could call Jon-boy a dweeb or some pathetic undeserving goomba that doesn't fuckin' MY SHOT."
"But I won't 'cause there ain't a fuckin' point."
"Not 'til I get his yellow-ass in the ring AGAIN an' I SHATTER HIS FUCKIN' FACE."
Slowly, the Big Titty Goth leaned back and crossed her arms. The tension was thick around her.
"Naaaah, this week I get to square off against a pair of REAL undeserving dweebs an' the sad fucks attendin' the show at the Great Southern Bank Arena better make sure to bring their rain gear 'cause it's goin' to rainin' blood once that bell rings."
"Seriously,"
"I ain't pretendin' to understand the stupid logic of Brady Bolt, but it seems to me that he's already sick of your combined bullshit. This might be the final show before Blast, but it looks like he's hopin' that I make this your final show an' I feel inclined to make that a bloody reality. The best part? You already KNOW that I can."
"Don't ya, Ves?"
"You already KNOW that no matter how HARD YOU STRIKE there just isn't a fuckin' thing that'll stop ME FROM KICKING YOU HEAD CLEAN OFF. Not your SUPPOSED world-class strikin' ability. Not this half-assed alliance you've been tossed into with Nash an' sure as fuck this newfound confidence ya might have after FINALLY winnin' your first strap here. In fact, once I'm done MAIMING YOU IN FRONT OF ELEVEN THOUSAND STRONG I'm gonna go have a word with your "Dark Buddha" an' I'll do the same to him. 'Cause it's about time we cut this cult-like witchy bullshit out ya keep returnin' to like a domestic abuse victim an' let ya BE MORE THAN JUST A BRAINLESS CUNT SERVING AN UNDESERVING MASTER."
"Oh, I'm STILL goin' to make you MY BITCH every chance I get."
"It'll just be more SATISFYING beatin' ya when ya ain't fuckin' shackled to the imaginary friend ya never outgrew."
"So do get the vaseline ready, Ves, 'cause, like EVERY TIME WE'VE MET, you're gonna get FUCKED."
Falling silent following her declaration of fact, Jessie leaned forward once more. Only this time she hung her head so that her face faced the concrete floor beneath her boots.
"As for you, Jaice..."
Like an ominous warning left to hang in the air, Jessie slowly tilted her head up to show the wicked smile that had taken root upon her face. With a bit more venom than she might have originally intended, Jessie ran her tongue along the outside of the teeth of her upper jaw.
"When have you EVER BEEN DESERVING OF ANYTHING OTHER THAN GETTING YOU ASS BEAT?"
"HM?"
"Contrary to what ya might think in your own deluded fuckin' mind, there hasn't EVER been a SINGLE INSTANCEwhere you've EVER been worth the shit that drizzles out of your mouth. You ACT like you're on pair with guys like Balfore, Blaze, an' Black but the reality is that all you've ever done in Action Wrestling is a short forgotten run with the Cruiserweight strap. Anything else isn't anything more than the disappointing ramblings of a chronic nobody desperate to ACTUALLY be somebody. So you can take that so-called "intercepted letter" ya like to send out every week an' you can fuckin' choke on it just like you've choked on everything else in your fuckin' career."
"'Cause, this week, THE MONDAY NIGHT MOMMY AIN'T FUCKIN' PLAYING AROUND!"
With a thunderous snarl, Jessie bolted up from her chair and furiously spun around to send the metal folding chair she had been sitting in flying off-screen with an explosive kick before facing the camera; a raging inferno burning in her eyes.
"Oh no! After the horseshit of LAST WEEK, it's all 'bout business THIS WEEK an' THIS WEEK ain't the happy endin' you're hopin' for. 'Cause, whether Jody likes it or not, I'm dragging his ass to that ring an' I'm puttin' on one HELL of a fight that people ain't gonna soon forget! People might be wipin' their hands clean thinkin' that this Clash ain't gonna fuckin' matter, but I'm gonna make DAMN SURE that it does even if I gotta do it MYSELF."
"So, fuck knuckles one an' two, I suggest you stick your head between you legs an' kiss your asses goodbye 'cause this Monday Night they BELONG TO ME an' I can PROMISE you that once I'm done you won't even CONSIDER showin' up to Blast let alone Monday Night Clasher EVER AGAIN."
"'Causie I'm THE BAD BITCH."
"THE DOMMY MOMMY."
"THE. AUSSIE. ASSAULT."
"An', above ALL else, I'm gonna be the WINNER of this throwaway tag team match on this go-home edition to Monday Night Clash. So if you that you're walkin' out then I suggest you get ready, ya doddering twats, 'cause Monday night is gonna be fuckin'...."
"LEETHAL."
With one last sneer at the thought of what she was going to have to do, Jessie stormed out of frame with violent purpose in her gait as the camera faded to black.