Post by Addy A on Jun 9, 2024 0:33:14 GMT -5
“Put three people in the ring and the chances are you are going to find out just how alike they are. That’s exactly what’s happening this coming Monday Night when I defend my Television Title against Mercedes and Johnny. It’s a rather karmic situation when you think about it, the hot headed wild woman making noise but not making damage, and the new firebrand looking to establish themselves in Action Wrestling. Once upon a time both of those statements would’ve described me - now I’m using them for my opponents Eden and Demeraux.”
“Ironic?”
“Nah. Circular.”
“Welcome to Action Wrestling, Johnny. It’s a long trip across the Atlantic, but one that many before you have made a successful venture. Your career is in its infancy on these shores and you might follow in the legendary steps of a QDT or Kidsgrove. Not saying you won’t make it, but what I am saying is that I will not allow you to use me and my Television Title as a stepping stone to greatness.”
“I am not your foot in the fucking door.”
“You will discover just how true that statement is when it comes to the ring on Monday Night.”
“You’ve set a positive bar here since your arrival, but you have quite worked out the lay of the land. That was evident when you failed to meet the expectations you set for yourself in Havoc. Sure, I could say I flamed out too, but that’s on me. Losing this Television Title, that’d be on me too, thing is, I won’t be losing it. Not to you. Not on Monday Night.”
“Saint, while you’re flying around the ring with only an eye on your own personal gratification, being everything that Simon Templar is not. I’m watching you, moving with you, taking my fucking lumps, ready to strike the moment you slip up. And slip up you will. I will tear you apart like the Lion stalking the village. That’s your downfall, Eden, you’re so obsessed your image and impact you will make on the world, you forget - I’m the fucking Lion.”
“You think you’re going to walk in and take my title, just because you’re English? Motherfucker, this ain’t the Colonial times you ain’t stealing anything to put in a museum, not from me you’re not. You can save that energy for the Lizard King. Monday Night, you’re going to come as close to the Television Title as the Three Lions come to a European Championship.”
“No fucking cigar.”
“Ironic?”
“Nah. Circular.”
“Welcome to Action Wrestling, Johnny. It’s a long trip across the Atlantic, but one that many before you have made a successful venture. Your career is in its infancy on these shores and you might follow in the legendary steps of a QDT or Kidsgrove. Not saying you won’t make it, but what I am saying is that I will not allow you to use me and my Television Title as a stepping stone to greatness.”
“I am not your foot in the fucking door.”
“You will discover just how true that statement is when it comes to the ring on Monday Night.”
“You’ve set a positive bar here since your arrival, but you have quite worked out the lay of the land. That was evident when you failed to meet the expectations you set for yourself in Havoc. Sure, I could say I flamed out too, but that’s on me. Losing this Television Title, that’d be on me too, thing is, I won’t be losing it. Not to you. Not on Monday Night.”
“Saint, while you’re flying around the ring with only an eye on your own personal gratification, being everything that Simon Templar is not. I’m watching you, moving with you, taking my fucking lumps, ready to strike the moment you slip up. And slip up you will. I will tear you apart like the Lion stalking the village. That’s your downfall, Eden, you’re so obsessed your image and impact you will make on the world, you forget - I’m the fucking Lion.”
“You think you’re going to walk in and take my title, just because you’re English? Motherfucker, this ain’t the Colonial times you ain’t stealing anything to put in a museum, not from me you’re not. You can save that energy for the Lizard King. Monday Night, you’re going to come as close to the Television Title as the Three Lions come to a European Championship.”
“No fucking cigar.”
Adelaide Ainsworth sat on the stool, elbows resting on the bartop, cigarette resting limply between her middle and index fingers on her left hand. She was staring at the rows upon rows of expensive whiskey’s that lined the wall in front of her. Raising the cigarette to her lips she takes a long drag, allowing the toxic nicotine to fill her lungs. The joy of the moment is lost in her thoughts as she ponders her next steps through her current predicament.
“Addy. Babe!” The poisonous tones of Joey Bigliani punctuate her moment of silence.
Slowly she turns her head to look at him, the only thought running thought her mind is how much she fucking hates this man. “Fuck off, Joey.” she spits sardonically.
He leans in to kiss her, but as she turns away he grabs her head, stopping her. As their lips touch, Adelaide bites him with genuine aggression on the bottom lip. The effect on her bite, forces him to pull away, inadvertently making it worse for him.
“Ow. You fucking bitch.” he spits, stopping short of slapping her.
“You know I like it rough.” she smirks, pleased with herself.
“We got work to do.” though his hand while wiping his mouth.
“Addy. Babe!” The poisonous tones of Joey Bigliani punctuate her moment of silence.
Slowly she turns her head to look at him, the only thought running thought her mind is how much she fucking hates this man. “Fuck off, Joey.” she spits sardonically.
He leans in to kiss her, but as she turns away he grabs her head, stopping her. As their lips touch, Adelaide bites him with genuine aggression on the bottom lip. The effect on her bite, forces him to pull away, inadvertently making it worse for him.
“Ow. You fucking bitch.” he spits, stopping short of slapping her.
“You know I like it rough.” she smirks, pleased with herself.
“We got work to do.” though his hand while wiping his mouth.
“Merc. A little while ago, I called you out, calling you a gutless fucking whore for a blind shot. I was fucking right, because the sooner I put you down like the flea-bitten, scab-ridden mutt that you are, you disappeared back to whatever fucking rabbit hole you hide in. And now your back - fucking ay. I can only assume that Brady Bolt needed his dick sucked and you need meth money. A gummy beats getting his cock bitten by an inexperienced virgin.”
“But, Merc. I’m sorry. I’m reverting to slouching to the lowest common denominator to insult you at this moment and I’m better than that. Just like I am better than in the ring in every single way. I would credit you for the fight you put up when we faced off at Match Madness, but you ran and hid. At least Niobe Martin takes her beatings and comes back for me. Unlike the cowardly little worm that you are.”
“It must be a pitiful existence to be you. Talk loud, spit violence, get your ass kicked, slink back to the shadows. Rinse. Repeat. Ad fucking Nauseam. Where is the Merc that put down Karlie Nash or is she just fucking gone, because Vespertine broke her spirit when she took her home?”
“Both of those women, I should remind you, that I put down for my third simultaneous title since my return.”
“So while you’re out there hiding from the fight, I’ve come back into Action Wrestling and taken the fight to everyone that I come across my path. And I will continue to do that week in and week fucking out while I’m going round the ring. There is no comparison between you and I, Merc and there are no parallels despite what people might think. You do for ‘tough women’ what Chelsea Winston does for Australia. You talk that talk, but you fail to walk that walk. While I’m out there putting together an unprecedented resume, you down there causing God knows what damage to your kneecaps.”
“If it wasn’t so pathetic. It'd be tragic.”
“Everything I’ve laid out, Merc. It’s the path you’ve chosen. The choice you made.”
“Fight or Flight”
“They’re our choices.”
“I’m not fucking running from anyone.”
“But, Merc. I’m sorry. I’m reverting to slouching to the lowest common denominator to insult you at this moment and I’m better than that. Just like I am better than in the ring in every single way. I would credit you for the fight you put up when we faced off at Match Madness, but you ran and hid. At least Niobe Martin takes her beatings and comes back for me. Unlike the cowardly little worm that you are.”
“It must be a pitiful existence to be you. Talk loud, spit violence, get your ass kicked, slink back to the shadows. Rinse. Repeat. Ad fucking Nauseam. Where is the Merc that put down Karlie Nash or is she just fucking gone, because Vespertine broke her spirit when she took her home?”
“Both of those women, I should remind you, that I put down for my third simultaneous title since my return.”
“So while you’re out there hiding from the fight, I’ve come back into Action Wrestling and taken the fight to everyone that I come across my path. And I will continue to do that week in and week fucking out while I’m going round the ring. There is no comparison between you and I, Merc and there are no parallels despite what people might think. You do for ‘tough women’ what Chelsea Winston does for Australia. You talk that talk, but you fail to walk that walk. While I’m out there putting together an unprecedented resume, you down there causing God knows what damage to your kneecaps.”
“If it wasn’t so pathetic. It'd be tragic.”
“Everything I’ve laid out, Merc. It’s the path you’ve chosen. The choice you made.”
“Fight or Flight”
“They’re our choices.”
“I’m not fucking running from anyone.”