Post by The Green on Apr 21, 2024 12:30:14 GMT -5
If there was one thing Adelaide Ainsworth needed right now, it was not time to think. She needed to fight, to blow off steam, to distract herself. Yet here she was, lounging on a towel atop the white sands of Venice beach. She lowered her sunglasses to observe the passerby on the beach. The bronzed specimen with abdominals that you could wash your lingerie on was a sight to behold. Adelaide, lustily licked her lips thinking our the devious things she do eith him on her swing. He was met am equally bronzed blonde who wrapped her arms around his waist. Probably a starfish she thought to herself. Sighing with exasperation, she raised her sunglasses, and laid back on her towel to take in some sun.
A shadow fell over her. She smiled. Finally, she’s getting the good weed she thought to herself with a wicked smile rising across her cheeks.
“You seem rather relaxed, Adelaide Ainsworth”
“Brothah, I've come to see the motherfucker with a hook up.”
“Hah, I’d expect nothing less from our double champ. We have a tall task awaiting us this Monday. We must prepare.”
The Green stares down at Addy, expectant. “Come on, man. Don't hold back on the dutchie.”
She frowns at his stare, “Puff puff pass or get of my fuckin’ rays.”
The Green’s brow furrows. He stiffly lowers himself to a half kneeling
“I've seen gimps with big ass black dildos up their buttholes laugh more than you.”
Green glares at her, his face reddening. “Listen, I’m not very… enthused about this partnership. I want Sicko now. One on one. But if it takes teaming with you to get to him, I’ll put up with as much uncouth language as it takes.”
“LOL.” Adelaide cackles like a drunken hyena. “You're fuckin’ hilarious.”
“Oh for Dagda’s sake. Why do I even try. You can sit here on this beach laughing till your face turns blue. I’d say go fuck yourself, but you clearly enjoy that too much. When you’re ready to train, come find me.” The Green gets up and turns to walk off.
“It's a fucking clown and Nobesity. Why the fuck we gotta train?
Green stops for a second. He turns back around.
“Well, what else would you have us do? We’re wrestlers, no? It’s our duty to fight, and get better.”
“Fightin’ is just natural bruh. Everything else is life. You get drunk. You get high. You have some wild fuckin’ nights, and hope you don't join the 27 club.”
Green sits back down. “Hmm. That’s a.. rather blasé way to look at it. But then again, I’ve seen a few challengers who went about things that way.”
“Dude. I'm staring down an Italian crime family that I done sortable fucked shit up for. I ain't going out square.”
Green chuckles. “You’re Adelaide Ainsworth. You just damn near gave a centuries old being a prolapse. You’ll find a way out of it.”
“Shh. Secrets.”
The Green gives another laugh, this one a bit heartier. He looks out at the ocean.
“No, you want to know a real secret? What every person who triumphed me knew? Death is inevitable. Whether it’s on the other side of a gun, or in your bed, with all your strength sapped from you. So… stop worrying about it. Define yourself by your actions.”
“Oh, I ain't worrying ‘bout dying. I'm Just not not going out quietly. I'm taking a million festering cunts out with me when I have to.” She throws sand into the air and shoots it with her finger guns.
“That’s the sanest thing I’ve heard you say.” The Green smirks.
Adelaide tilts her head to the side. “He thinks I'm crazy.” She murmurs to herself under her breath. She follows with a hearty chuckle.
The Green gets up once again. “Alright, where’s the nearest bar then? I’m interested in experiencing the Addy A training regimen.”
“I fuckin’ hate clowns, hated since I was a kid. Hated since I saw that stupid red and yellow motherfucker while my mother was buying me cheeseburgers to shut me the fuck up. Hated ‘em even more when one dirty cunt put his fingers where they didn’t belong - but ain’t no need for the sad tales of my childhood.”
“I’m fuckin’ sick of dealing with Nobes. Ever since bouncing into Action Wrestling this bitch has plagued my existence just like the poor plague the rich. Leaching off of everything we provide just to survive. It’s a bigger pain in my arse than Mandingo without lube, but again this isn’t the time for the bedroom tales of Adelaide Ainsworth.”
“All I know is right now, I’m rolling with a dude called The Green that quite probably doesn’t know how to roll the green. And I’m fighting a clown called Sicko who’s tagging a bitch that I’m sick of seeing.”
“It’s a pretty fucked up scenario if I’ve gonna be honest. But, hey, that’s what comes your way when you’re Addy A with the two titles for her titties. Get a third title and you can call me Total Recall.”
“I’ve seen the impact you’ve made since you raised your fucked up head in this joint, Sicko. And I gotta commend that shit, but if I’m being entirely honest - I haven’t paid you the attention you deserve, but in this fucked conglomeration of a tag team match that’s not my job. That’s the job of the strange motherfucker I’m slapping hands with. He’s got beef with you, and I’m telling ya, he ain’t no vegetarian.”
“If ya diggin’ what I’m diggin’.”
“Or not.”
“The thing that has got my head all fucked up other than the countless bottles of vodka and copious grams of blow - is the fact that somehow my partner is not the weirdest cat in this fucking thing. Really, ain’t got a clue on how Nobes must be feeling having to slap hands with your nasty digits.”
“Is it time to wake up?”
“Nah, fuck that, I’m rollin’ a fatty and sluggin’ back a forty, and hittin’ the sack until some shit makes sense in this mother fucker again.”
“We all fucking know that it makes no sense putting Nobes across the ring from me again. The amount of times I’ve put that bitch down makes me wish I was from Alabama and more fingers to count with.”
“Nah.”
“Not really.”
“But this shit is making me tired. Hence, the wish to artificially include sleep with some impressive fucking downers. But looking at her face make me a fucking downer, but do I want to sleep when I got that fucking clown face hanging above me. I’d be packing nuggets like a young Bart Simpson. I fucking hate clowns.”
“I’d fucking hate you too, Nobes - but you ain’t down enough to warrant me expending the emotional energy on you. Not enough to hate you. At this point, unless you somehow, some way have yourself in a position to take either of my titles off my titties.”
“Why the fuck should I care about you?”
“Why the fuck should I bother with you?”
“I won’t fucking care about you.”
“I won’t fucking bother with you.”
“Because no matter how much you scrap, no matter how much you fight you’ll never have what you need to escape the spin cycle you find yourself in. Lose. rinse. Repeat.”
“You’re just a junkie chasing a fix. Some euphoria you’re never gonna reach.”
“You’d probably be smarter to follow the red balloon. You’re more likely to be remembered that way than what you are now.”
"Devastation ticks ever closer. Last week, Sicko, you proved yourself just as destructive as me. But it was not your sheer might that won you the day. No, it was the stubbornness, the gall, of one little nightmare. Niobe, I was willing to leave you be, to grow, to develop into an unlikely hero. But now, whether you intended it or not, you have thrown your lot in with this tide of destruction. What you experienced last week? That was me acting with pity. Now, I will act with prejudice."
"Meanwhile, Sicko, you would have us believe that your warpath is pure malcontent; that reaping is simply your duty and your passion. But beneath the skin, there is clearly conflict. Your mind games, the clown mask, the laughter. It may be a creepy affect to psych out our opponents, but it also betrays your humanity. Shock of shocks, the big clown murderer is angry. Your matches aren’t procedurally planned stalkings of your prey. They’re temper tantrums, unleashing your pure unbridled rage. And while anger is a potent destructive force, it can be used. Predicted. Overcome. You are not invincible."
"Some would fear you, call you a monster. But after finally having a match with you, I know better. Sicko is just as mortal as any other challenger that has faced me. It is my duty to build up humanity, to test them. But it is also my duty to protect them from themselves. You embody all the horrible traits of humanity. Man is petty. Man is destructive. Man is cruel. I’ve seen it over the years. Perhaps I’ve allowed it to fester too much, overwhelmed with self-pity and apathy. But no more."
?I am the real deal. I am a monster, a creature beyond humanity. Arthur’s castle may lie in dust, but I remain. You shall learn to fear that which persists, Sicko. I may have yet seen a mortal like you, but you are still mortal. You bleed. You can be conquered. We’ve already seen you tap out, give up. But when I am done with you, you will be knocked out, in the middle of the ring, down for the three."
"In defeating you, I will make up for the mistakes of my past. I will prove myself as a threat in the present. I will defend the future."
Addy sits in a seat outside a gate at LAX, scrolling through pictures on her phone. Next to her, The Green looks wiped out, wearing sunglasses and holding his head.
“How the hell did you outdrink me last night?”
“Seems like a skill issue. Git good ya scrub.”
“My head hasn’t hurt this bad since I partied with Liberace.”
Green squints at the gate TV. “Where are we going again?”
“Bumfuck nowhere. Missouri.”
“Ugh. I’m gonna need some orange juice."
Addy smiles.