Post by Rita Stevens on Feb 8, 2019 13:51:37 GMT -5
Andy: So, you got that Italian guy or whatever this week, the champion of the division, huh? That’s cool.
Rita: Yeah, well you know..
Andy: Where are you anyways?
Rita: Don’t worry about it.
Andy: Fuckin’ whore.
Rita: Fuck you too, Andy.
Andy: So, you’re like a sell out or something now, right?
Rita: Oh, fuck you, man.
Andy: That’s impressive though, you got the champ in your second match. Can’t say I totally understand since you didn’t win your first one or whatever.
Rita: Didn’t lose it either though and of course I outshined Scott fucking Stapp.
Andy: That Jaice guy?
Rita: Same difference.
Andy: Are they giving you a title shot if you beat the Italian kid?
Rita: They’ll have to. I’m not going anywhere and I already know I’m getting the job done this week.
Andy: Yeah? How you figure?
Rita: Quinoa Del whatever, he’s soft, sheltered really. It’s always those fuckin’ guys you know, the ones without any real world experience who think they’ve got it all figured out just because their sample size of exposure is so fuckin’ small. He’s a god damn titty baby if I’ve ever seen one.
Andy: Wanting to make him a man or whatever?
Rita: Sounds like a tall task, even for me. I just want to use him to set the bar. He’s the top name in the 201 division and I’m an untested rookie. It won’t just shatter his perceptions if I beat his head in, it’s gonna shatter everybody else’s.
Andy: Careful, you might run him out of the locker room.
Rita: That’d be nice, guy’s a fuckin’ creep, man. It’s like if Mark David Chapman and Elliot Rodger had a weird, gay Lolita thing going on and ended up raising a kid together. QDT is that fuckin’ end result. Any touch from a decent looking woman is sure to make his fucked up little incel brain short circuit. Guy thinks he knows himself and has a grasp on personal identity, but he’s wrong. He’s built up this fake ego thing, tried to spin the narrative all sorts of ways and shit. That’s bound to shatter. All I have to do is take advantage when that happens.
Andy: Shit, I hope so. You’re prospects might not end up looking so good if you pick up two straight losses to start this whole wrestling thing.
Rita: I’ll get the shit done. Don’t fuckin’ worry about me, man.
I leaned my neck to the right, using my shoulder to support my phone as I ruffled through my bag for the cash I’d ripped from the groupie fanboy I just let inside me a couple hours ago, a fair trade off if you ask me. He got the privilege of having me and now he’d be paying for the cab I was taking back to my own place.
Rita: Yeah, well you know..
Andy: Where are you anyways?
Rita: Don’t worry about it.
Andy: Fuckin’ whore.
Rita: Fuck you too, Andy.
The guy I’m talking to, Andy, we’ve kinda got a thing going on. We’re not exclusive and he knows that, but we live in the same house and he can make me climax every fifth attempt.
Rita: Oh, fuck you, man.
I pull the money as well as a lighter out from my bag and reposition the phone again, touching the flame to the tip of an American Spirit.
Rita: Didn’t lose it either though and of course I outshined Scott fucking Stapp.
Andy: That Jaice guy?
Rita: Same difference.
Andy: Are they giving you a title shot if you beat the Italian kid?
Rita: They’ll have to. I’m not going anywhere and I already know I’m getting the job done this week.
Andy: Yeah? How you figure?
Rita: Quinoa Del whatever, he’s soft, sheltered really. It’s always those fuckin’ guys you know, the ones without any real world experience who think they’ve got it all figured out just because their sample size of exposure is so fuckin’ small. He’s a god damn titty baby if I’ve ever seen one.
Andy: Wanting to make him a man or whatever?
Rita: Sounds like a tall task, even for me. I just want to use him to set the bar. He’s the top name in the 201 division and I’m an untested rookie. It won’t just shatter his perceptions if I beat his head in, it’s gonna shatter everybody else’s.
Andy: Careful, you might run him out of the locker room.
Rita: That’d be nice, guy’s a fuckin’ creep, man. It’s like if Mark David Chapman and Elliot Rodger had a weird, gay Lolita thing going on and ended up raising a kid together. QDT is that fuckin’ end result. Any touch from a decent looking woman is sure to make his fucked up little incel brain short circuit. Guy thinks he knows himself and has a grasp on personal identity, but he’s wrong. He’s built up this fake ego thing, tried to spin the narrative all sorts of ways and shit. That’s bound to shatter. All I have to do is take advantage when that happens.
Andy: Shit, I hope so. You’re prospects might not end up looking so good if you pick up two straight losses to start this whole wrestling thing.
Rita: I’ll get the shit done. Don’t fuckin’ worry about me, man.
*CLICK*
I toss my cigarette off to the side, lifting my hand as a black guy in a Yellow Cab pulls up along the front of the hotel.