Post by Andrew Jacobsen on Jan 7, 2010 20:45:23 GMT -6
Chad Lights and a camera crew find Emma Danielson walking away from a meeting room in the Oakland Radisson. She holds a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels in her hand, and is ranting to herself.
“Freaking Jacobsen...I swear, next time he tries to drag me in like that without warning me, I will kick his ass. And that proposal joke? He's lucky I didn't Faceplant him then and there...ah, for eff's sake, where's the bar...”
Chad approaches cautiously, poking her on the shoulder. Emma turns around, dropping into a brawling stance.
“Who the hell are you and why should I not beat you right here?”
Chad blinks, surprised by the woman's confrontational nature.
“My name is Chad Lights, Miss Danielson. I'm the head backstage interviewer for New Champi—“
Emma dismissively cuts him off with her hand.
“Yeah, yeah. You want to talk or am I going to have to stand here looking at you gawk like a baboon all day?”
Chad clears his throat, turning to the camera.
“Hello ladies and gentlemen. I'm Chad Lights, here with a member of nCw's new Women's Division, Emma Danielson. Emma, you're booked in a Triple Threat Match tomorrow night as part of the tournament to crown the first-ever nCw Women's Champion. What do you have to say to your opponents, Zelda Knite and Ayla St. James?”
The cameraman pans to Emma, who ponders it halfheartedly.
“Yeah, sure. I'll give you an interview, Mr. Light-Headed. Let's start off with Ayla St. Bitch. You, first Women's Champion? 'The Best Face You've Never Seen? Yeah, it'll be the best we've never seen, 'cause I'm going to take you out this Friday. I mean a no-holds-barred demolition, courtesy of me, the Hardcore Hellion. I'm no duchess, I'm not a ***damn princess. I am a Queen. The Queen of Extreme, as a matter of fact. I'll show you just what that means in the ring. I will raise hell for you and your Adam Knite-obsessed ass. I will mash your TV star looks so much that the only show you'd show up on again is Plastic Surgery Miracles: The Woman With A Crushed Face.”
Emma snickers at her joke, clearly intoxicated.
“Bit of career advice, Susan Lucci? You should take your fame-hounding and just piss off now. Go back to the Great White North and your soap opera with an audience of old ladies in retirement homes. Take your flunky with you, please. And return to what you do best: overblown pregnancy storylines, continuity overseen by a spastic five year-old, and lots and lots of sex. Au revoir, princesse. Ne laissez pas la porte vous frapper sur l'âne sur la sortie. For the people that didn't get that, it essentially means, well...”
She sketches a one-handed crotch chop, winking to the camera. Chad clears his throat in a futile attempt at trying to bring some civility back to this interview.
“Ah, yes. Thank you. Any words for Zelda Knite then, Miss Danielson?”
Emma nods again.
“Yeah. Sweetheart? I like to hit things because I'm damn good at hitting things. I enjoy your pigeonholing of me because it shows your ignorance of how things go. I have a larger range than hitting things. I can slam things, I can very effectively use things as weapons, I can, uh...uhm...gimme a second...”
She takes a hit off the bottle of Daniels, grinning.
“Where was I? Oh, yeah, Zelda Knite. Missy, you might've learned some tricks from your big bro Adam, but I learned everything I know myself. That means you're getting a next-generation, King of Fighters-style beating. Not a modified version of someone else's combat tactics. This is original, dare I say groundbreaking work in the field of violence. Will Wright's a mold-breaker when it comes to games, and I'm a mold-SHATTERER when it comes to the art of professional wrestling. There will be no stopping me. What you're about to see in that ring is called domination. It's me against you and the Quebecois Cryer. Honestly, you worry me more than her, but that's still not a lot. Here comes the pain, Zelda my girl. And it shall be glorious.”
She grins semi-drunkenly, taking another hit off the bottle of Daniels.
“So yeah. I've still got more to say, you know. Zelda...this isn't a video game. You don't hammer the X button to get back up after being knocked flat on your ass. Hits aren't felt with the controller rumbling, but your body erupting in pain. And you can't hit the reset button. What's done is done. If you lose, you can't go back to an earlier save and try again. The results are set in stone. That means you, miss, are going to have to face the harsh reality: This is real life. And what happens on Friday will be a real loss. I plan on exploding onto the scene in this shiny new Women's Division, and advancing in this tournament seems like a fantastic way to do just that. Sorry for crushing your dreams—and most likely a few ribs—but that's the way I do things. I come to win every time. If you want to make it anywhere in this business, you have to as well. I'm sure Adam can tell you as much. Anyhow, good luck. You're going to need it.”
Emma stands back, dusting her hands off. Chad Lights nods, surprised that she made it through the segment without falling over.
“Thank you for those words, Miss Danielson.”
Emma nods to him.
“Yeah, yeah. Just got a question. Can I charge food and drink to the company bill?”
Chad nods, confused. Emma's face lights up in joy.
“Thank you!! I'm off to the bar! Sayonara, bitches!!”
She tears off at lightning speed, forgetting her bottle of Daniels. Chad looks down the hall after her, and a crash is heard.
“I'm okay! Just...ran into a cleaning cart...ow, my leg...”
Chad groans, looking back into the camera.
“Strong words from one of our talented female competitors, Miss Emma Danielson. Catch her in action and all your other favorite nCw Superstars this Friday, on the newly revived nCw Suspense!”
He smiles at getting in the last word, the scene fading out.
“Freaking Jacobsen...I swear, next time he tries to drag me in like that without warning me, I will kick his ass. And that proposal joke? He's lucky I didn't Faceplant him then and there...ah, for eff's sake, where's the bar...”
Chad approaches cautiously, poking her on the shoulder. Emma turns around, dropping into a brawling stance.
“Who the hell are you and why should I not beat you right here?”
Chad blinks, surprised by the woman's confrontational nature.
“My name is Chad Lights, Miss Danielson. I'm the head backstage interviewer for New Champi—“
Emma dismissively cuts him off with her hand.
“Yeah, yeah. You want to talk or am I going to have to stand here looking at you gawk like a baboon all day?”
Chad clears his throat, turning to the camera.
“Hello ladies and gentlemen. I'm Chad Lights, here with a member of nCw's new Women's Division, Emma Danielson. Emma, you're booked in a Triple Threat Match tomorrow night as part of the tournament to crown the first-ever nCw Women's Champion. What do you have to say to your opponents, Zelda Knite and Ayla St. James?”
The cameraman pans to Emma, who ponders it halfheartedly.
“Yeah, sure. I'll give you an interview, Mr. Light-Headed. Let's start off with Ayla St. Bitch. You, first Women's Champion? 'The Best Face You've Never Seen? Yeah, it'll be the best we've never seen, 'cause I'm going to take you out this Friday. I mean a no-holds-barred demolition, courtesy of me, the Hardcore Hellion. I'm no duchess, I'm not a ***damn princess. I am a Queen. The Queen of Extreme, as a matter of fact. I'll show you just what that means in the ring. I will raise hell for you and your Adam Knite-obsessed ass. I will mash your TV star looks so much that the only show you'd show up on again is Plastic Surgery Miracles: The Woman With A Crushed Face.”
Emma snickers at her joke, clearly intoxicated.
“Bit of career advice, Susan Lucci? You should take your fame-hounding and just piss off now. Go back to the Great White North and your soap opera with an audience of old ladies in retirement homes. Take your flunky with you, please. And return to what you do best: overblown pregnancy storylines, continuity overseen by a spastic five year-old, and lots and lots of sex. Au revoir, princesse. Ne laissez pas la porte vous frapper sur l'âne sur la sortie. For the people that didn't get that, it essentially means, well...”
She sketches a one-handed crotch chop, winking to the camera. Chad clears his throat in a futile attempt at trying to bring some civility back to this interview.
“Ah, yes. Thank you. Any words for Zelda Knite then, Miss Danielson?”
Emma nods again.
“Yeah. Sweetheart? I like to hit things because I'm damn good at hitting things. I enjoy your pigeonholing of me because it shows your ignorance of how things go. I have a larger range than hitting things. I can slam things, I can very effectively use things as weapons, I can, uh...uhm...gimme a second...”
She takes a hit off the bottle of Daniels, grinning.
“Where was I? Oh, yeah, Zelda Knite. Missy, you might've learned some tricks from your big bro Adam, but I learned everything I know myself. That means you're getting a next-generation, King of Fighters-style beating. Not a modified version of someone else's combat tactics. This is original, dare I say groundbreaking work in the field of violence. Will Wright's a mold-breaker when it comes to games, and I'm a mold-SHATTERER when it comes to the art of professional wrestling. There will be no stopping me. What you're about to see in that ring is called domination. It's me against you and the Quebecois Cryer. Honestly, you worry me more than her, but that's still not a lot. Here comes the pain, Zelda my girl. And it shall be glorious.”
She grins semi-drunkenly, taking another hit off the bottle of Daniels.
“So yeah. I've still got more to say, you know. Zelda...this isn't a video game. You don't hammer the X button to get back up after being knocked flat on your ass. Hits aren't felt with the controller rumbling, but your body erupting in pain. And you can't hit the reset button. What's done is done. If you lose, you can't go back to an earlier save and try again. The results are set in stone. That means you, miss, are going to have to face the harsh reality: This is real life. And what happens on Friday will be a real loss. I plan on exploding onto the scene in this shiny new Women's Division, and advancing in this tournament seems like a fantastic way to do just that. Sorry for crushing your dreams—and most likely a few ribs—but that's the way I do things. I come to win every time. If you want to make it anywhere in this business, you have to as well. I'm sure Adam can tell you as much. Anyhow, good luck. You're going to need it.”
Emma stands back, dusting her hands off. Chad Lights nods, surprised that she made it through the segment without falling over.
“Thank you for those words, Miss Danielson.”
Emma nods to him.
“Yeah, yeah. Just got a question. Can I charge food and drink to the company bill?”
Chad nods, confused. Emma's face lights up in joy.
“Thank you!! I'm off to the bar! Sayonara, bitches!!”
She tears off at lightning speed, forgetting her bottle of Daniels. Chad looks down the hall after her, and a crash is heard.
“I'm okay! Just...ran into a cleaning cart...ow, my leg...”
Chad groans, looking back into the camera.
“Strong words from one of our talented female competitors, Miss Emma Danielson. Catch her in action and all your other favorite nCw Superstars this Friday, on the newly revived nCw Suspense!”
He smiles at getting in the last word, the scene fading out.