Chronicles of Adelaide Ainsworth: Old Bitch, Young Slut
Jan 19, 2020 20:41:09 GMT -5
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Post by Addy A on Jan 19, 2020 20:41:09 GMT -5
Scene I: (Mending) Fences
Adelaide Ainsworth is laying on her black leather lounge with her feet hanging over the end of the two seater lounge. She is smoking a joint and blowing smoke rings in the air about her head. She is wearing nothing but a black g-string. Next to her is a glass top coffee table upon which rests a mobile phone, an ashtray and a half finished bottle of vodka.
|BEEP|BEEP|
The mobile phone vibrates which prompts Addy to swings her legs down and sit up, She drops the remnants of the joint in the ashtray and takes a rather generous swig of her vodka before picking up her phone and checking the text message.
Happy Birthday Mummy! Luv u Nevvie xoxo
She drops the phone on the coffee table and takes another swig of vodka. Adelaide sits staring at the phone for what is only a few seconds in the real passage of time, but feels like an eternity within her mind. She reaches down and picks up the phone and starts typing away with her thumbs. She stares at the text message she has just typed.
Luv u too, baby! Mummy xoxo
“Fuck it.” she mutters as she hits send on the phone.
As she tosses it onto the lounge next to her, she grabs the vodka and finishes the remaining contents in one massive swig, she wipes her lips with the back of her right arm when another text message reaches her phone.
|BEEP|BEEP|
Scene II: Put on your (Blue)jacket.
“She’s our best chance at bringing them down.” those are the words of the young detective Daniel Gibson as he sits across the desk from his age-wearied and battle-hardened partner, Jack White.
The desk they share is filled with paperwork, empty styrofoam coffee cups and littered with various pieces of stationary and junk. Two monitors sit on opposite ends of the desk, keyboards and mice are hidden underneath all the detritus.
“Kid, I appreciate your optimism, but we’ve had her twice. She gave us nothing.” sighs White.
“Maybe we just need to go at her a different way, Jack.”
“Nah, Kid. She isn’t any sort of open door into the Bigliani family.”
“Maybe we just have to open her up to helping.”
“You’re not listening are you, Kid. I saw the tapes from Rikers. I saw the FBI tapes. She has no interest in helping.”
Gibson opens a desk drawer and pulls out two envelopes and tosses one to White.
“What’s this?” asks the grizzled Jack White as he opens the envelope.
“Tickets to Columbus, and Action Wrestling’s Clash. You can do what you want. I am going either way.” smiles the young and effervescent Daniel Gibson.
Scene III: Never Easy (Rawlins)
Last name, Ainsworth. First name, Adelaide. She currently finds herself walking through the foyer of a hotel somewhere in middle America. Generic reception desk, generic while tile floors, generic plastic palms. The tip of her heels clink against the tiles as she walks in her blue dress through the foyer and down the hall. A woman on a mission, she knows what she is going and within moments she finds herself standing in front of a brown door marked with the letters “21”. Adelaide raps her knuckles on the door twice to announce her presence. The door is slowly opened by a portly gentleman in an ugly suit. His eyes widen as her recognises the devil in a blue dress in front of him. She puts a finger to his mouth and her pushes him back into the room. She flicks the door closed with the heel of her foot as she enters the room properly. Her host meekly sits on the end of the bed, while Adelaide grabs the chair from the generic desk, places it in front of her hot and sits down, eye to eye with the friendly man.
“I c-can pay…” he stammers.
“Shh.” the sound exiting Adelaide’s mouth was short, sharp and immediately cut him off mid-sentence.
She just stares silently at him, he sweats and fidgets under the gaze of Ainsworth as she smiles at him with equal parts glee and sadism. Every time the tenant of the room tries to shift his body weight and move out of the direct eyeline of Ms. Ainsworth, she follows him with her eyes, or if he shuffles too far along the end of the bed, she lifts her leg and pushes him back into place with her silvery heel. The silence is evidently uncomfortable for him, but Adelaide revels in the tension and garners more the pleasure the thicker it gets. He opens his mouth.
“Shh.” she silences him before a sound exits his lips.
Adelaide reaches into the top of her dress and pulls out a lighter, which causes him to visibly gulp. This action brings a smirk to face of Adelaide. She then pulls out a packet of cigarettes, takes one out of the packet and lights it. She takes a long drag from the freshly lit carcinogenic stick of toxins and blows the smoke into his face.
“Go.” The single word is utter with the force of an oncoming tsunami.
He blinks rapidly and keep staring at Adelaide.
“I fuckin said go.” she repeats through snarling teeth.
He doesn’t need a second invitation and runs from the hotel room.
Adelaide stands and throws some paperwork from the desk onto the floor of the hotel room. She takes one last drag from her cigarette and flicks into the paperwork scattered on the highly flammable carpet. She watches just long enough to see the flames take hold of the paper before turning and walking out of the room before the fire sprinklers take effect.
“Apparently.”
[Addy A is standing in front of the Action Wrestling banner. She is wearing a pair of denim short shorts and a fluorescent pink halter top with plunging neckline that works to accentuate her cleavage to the maximum. Her hair is tied back in a ponytail. She takes a final drag of her cigarette and flicks it away.]
“Some people think I got some sorta fuckin potty mouth. We lemme tell em and let me tell you Alpha Bitch. I am who I am and I do what I because I fuckin wanna. It’s just most people don’t understand me, Jacqui. I’m savage - I say what every other fucker wants to say but lacks the balls. If I had a big fuckin dick flappin in the wind - I’ll tell ya no one would be blinkin an eye at me language. I’m Action Wrestlin’s version of Li’l Kim - that bein I just come out and say what’s on me mind. Weak bitches like ya can’t handle that shit. Just the way it is Jacq. Hell, even former fuckin world champions go on strike cause they afraid’a what I can do. Just ask Dandy DiVito."
"So are ya gonna be any different, bitch, or ya just gonna come at me the same fuckin way? Guess we’ll find out soon enough, right? But while I gotta a fair fuckin idea bout how ya come at me Why, cause ya cookie cutter. Ya lack original thought. But me - I’m gonna come at ya me own way. Smile, for the camera bitch - don’t cry at the end of the day when I’m done just layin ya out with facts laced with my immature fuckin humour but lackin any humility. Because why the fuck should I be humble when I’m dealin with ya old skanky fuckin arse?”
"Sure, I could come out and say something like: ‘ You smell worse than the turd my dog left on the carpet. You don't even ride the short-bus - you get to school in a tricycle. Your mama should have thought twice before she let your dad go in bareback that time.’ "
"But fuck me, that’s some’a the weakest fuckin shit I ever head and quite frankly it’s somethin I’d expect ya to spoutin from ya lips. Simply because ya lack courage, ya lack conviction, ya lack the -metaphorical- balls ta go out say it how it is. That shit I don’t lack. I’m gonna call it how I see it and I’m gonna say it how it is. It’s what I do it. See somethin. Say somethin. I could be a fuckin anti-terrorism advert. But Jacq, ya a fuckin washed up bitch, ay? Sittin back, feeling sorry fah ya’self, come in for a little fuckin special in the old days’a Trinity. That little bit’a action gets ya pussy drippin again so ya come back full time in Action. Good on ya. But lemme tell ya somethin Jacq. If I’m sittin at home at your age, I ain’t comin back because I ain’t got nothing to do. I’m stayin busy. I don’t believe in livin in the past. Relivin past glories because I’ve become sad and pathetic as I age - Les’ be real here - Jacqui, that’s happenin ta Adelaide Ainsworth. I ain’t ever gonna become the sad sack of humanity that ya are. Bit cliche, bit generic. But fuck it, it’s true."
"I guess ya status in life is why ya got some anger issues. Two years sittin at home in obscurity, no one rememberin ya name. Ya thinkin ya gotta legacy when in reality ya ain’t got nothin. If I was you, I’d be fuckin angry too. But here’s the rub, bitch. I ain’t you. I already got me’self locked up in notoriety in the hall of fame right here in A-Dub. Did that all before I turned twenty-one. Compare that to ya pathetic existence - ya got nothin. Just another lifer that’s still rollin round the ring cause they can’t do nothin else. Least Odin is still winning titles. What are ya doin? Ya playin second fiddle to basically everyone, right? Ya got gifted a chance for a vacant title, ya through away in fuckin mediocrity. Ya tossed ya fuckin in the Cruiswerweight Havoc. Ya flopped in that too. Hell, even last week, when I was fuckin rockin the world in the main event, ya were in a six man tag match."
"Wait, how’d ya put it? Ya were teamin with two randos right? Ya mean the former fuckin TV champs? Somehow I think it was the Alpha Bitch was rando in that triumvirate. Sure, Razzles is all fuckin kinds’a headcase can’t even remember if she was in tha ring or at tha beach, be she still won a title - ya ain’t done that. Kenny, she’s fuckin busted but she’s busted more than ya ever have - especially where it matters. And ya got the gall ta call ya teammates fuckin randos. Fuckin hell - people say I live in me own fuckin world, I got me feet firmly planted on tha ground compared ta ya head in the fuckin clouds delirium."
"And ya know what, Jacq? Even if ya wanna play whole old fuckin dog beatin the new pup card on me here. Ya can, it ain’t no matter ta me. I can run ya down all I want ya can still some new me some new tricks - I’m fuckin sure. But there’s another adage ya can’t teach an old dog new tricks. We all fuckin know that one. So ya might be able ta teach me somethin. But there’s plenty I can fuckin do that ya ain’t ever gonna get grasp on. And that’s why ya gonna lose.”
[Addy pulls her ponytail and flicks her hair about so it falls loosely around her face.]
“After Clash it’s time for ya ta go back ta yellin at clouds, like they are fuckin me, cause like everyone else I’ve risen above ya.”
[Addy laughs and flips the bird.]
“See ya, Cupcake.”
[Adelaide Ainsworth walks off leaving just the Action Wrestling logo.]