Post by Ayla St. James on Mar 10, 2010 2:45:35 GMT -6
"So.. you haven't seen her at all?"
(Jeff, the ever present sound technician sat in an armchair in the St.James (Germaine) apartment. Glen sat in the opposite chair. The furniture in the apartment had slowly grown into something resembling halfway decent as the paychecks rolled in from the wrestling. They were still heavily in debt, but it was looking up.)
"Nope, we left for Suspense. She wrestled the match, and I could not find her afterwards. So, I just came back here."
"What if she's like.. dead in a ditch somewhere?"
"I am not that lucky."
"Kidnapped by some satanic rape cult...?"
"I am not that lucky."
"Turned into a mummy worshipping, Sluttress...?"
"And how would that be different from now, exactly..?"
(Jeff opens his mouth, then closes it as he ponders what was said. Then he shrugs.)
"Point taken."
"To be honest, I just wish I knew where she was. If she doesn't show up for work, I'm homeless. And I am not going to go back to being an esc-.."
(He gets cut off by the door opening. Ayla stumbles in, seemingly in a stupor. Not a drunken haze, but a state of pure bliss.)
"Ahhhh life is gooooooooodd...."
(She waltzes across the room, and plops down on the couch. Exactly like a girl from one of those crappy teen drama flicks that just got back from a dream date with their dream boy. Wait, did I read that right?)
"Welcome home madame. ....Now.. where have you been?"
"Cleo invited me to her island in the Mediteranean.. and it was..."
(She closes her eyes blissfully and takes a deep chest heaving breath.)
"FANTASTIC...!!"
"That's.. umm.. great.."
"So, what did you do?"
"Well..."
-----------------Mandatory Flashback wave---------------------
"You want me to do what?"
"I want you to tell all of your friends about me."
"I can do that. I mean, they'll be as impressed with you as I am."
"That is exactly what I am hoping for."
"This is a beautiful Island."
"Thank you."
"Everybody seems so nice. And they worship you."
"Yes, they do."
"I'll start making phone calls on Monday."
"Thank you so much Ayla. Let me show you to your room."
"Cool..."
------------------End Flashback---------------------------------
"So, how long were you there?"
"We left the minute after Suspense was over, celebrated the win on her private jet, and her private yacht. Then it was two glorious days of sun and the breeze until yesterday morning when I got back."
"Ayla, it's Tuesday. What have you been doing since yesterday?"
"You left me at the arena, ya jerk!"
(Her outburst shocks both men.)
"What was I supposed to do? Sit there and wait at an empty arena until you got back?"
"In a word, yes!"
"I give the hell up..."
(He stands up, exascervated and heads for the door.)
"Where the hell are you going?"
"Just.. away from you and that she devil stench you carry with you.. I'm done with all of this."
(The door slams with authority.)
"Wow, he really left..."
"He'll be back."
"Uh huh.. So are you.."
"Gonna cut a promo? Yea, I'll get to it."
(The camera shifted position so it faced only Ayla, who sat up, adjusted her skirt, and then looked at it with a pleasant smile on her face.)
"Life is good sometimes. When I got here, I heard the same things. I'm a loser cuz I was on a daytime soap. I'm even more of a loser cuz it was only on in Canada. I'm a triple loser cuz I'm Canadian. I'm a quadruple loser cuz my boobs are fake..."
(She pauses for a second.)
"On second thought that makes me cool. But I digress. Anyway it was always the same. Nobody wanted to hang out with me, everybody thought I was this prima donna who was all snooty, without even getting to know me. But not Cleo. Cleo isn't just any mere woman, she is the Goddess. I know this because everyone on that island told me so. They don't just love her there, they adore her, they worship her and all of you should too. I'm talking from the champ ZK, all the way down to that smelly freak the Cat Lady. But you won't.. you're all just mad that out of all you wannabes... the Goddess... chose... me..."
(She smirks confidently. Damn prissy if you ask me.)
"So much for being discarded after she's done with me, eh Emma? She's not only invited me to her private island to hang out and get a decent tan, she's also asking me to bring all of my friends along. You just can't handle the fact that she's so nice and generous and you're a smarmy repressed english prat who only hangs around with a creepy dude and some chick who has more muscles than estrogen. But don't worry, you'll be ok. You'll cling to the victory you have over me like it's your favorite blanket and hide your shame and sorrow behind a veil of smug confidence. I know it hurts you on the inside, and that's good enough for me. The Dutchess is dead, Emma..."
(She tilts her head back, closes her eyes and folds her hands before her in prayer. She takes a slow, deep, chest heaving breath before opening them again.)
"Long live the Goddess.."
(She resumes her original position.)
"Are you serious? Jaymie Boone is gonna step away from the commentary table and suddenly she's god's gift to wrestling? Give me a break sister. You have about as much talent as Davey Boone and Seth Drabble had.. yes.. I can google things too.. and let me tell you, from what I saw the only real talent Davey Boone has was being a great actor, and I'd dare to say that he is the third best on the planet. Right behind the Punisher, and myself of course. Truth is, I'm not going to put you on your back Jaymie, not because I know what usually happens to you when you are, but because it's far easier to make you tap out while you're face down on the canvas. Which is a step up from being face down in a ditch like you usually are. Don't like it? Kiss my Canadian ass, or actually do something about it besides show the entire world that your cootch is more played out than the Real World. I have no time or tolerance for you."
(She huffs in anger and folds her arms over her chest.)
"And as for Megan Kane, another of those so called 'original' people. You asked me a question, allow me to answer. What makes me different? Name one female on the roster who is A: Canadian.. no Cassandra I quit Ryan does not count.. B: An Actor... and no, yours and Jaymies porn careers do not count.. and C: a natural blonde with an impressive rack. You can't, because I'm the original. Where as you are just leeching off of Brads career, just like Julietta.. just like Cassandra.. I mean, this is your first match and you're demanding better competition? If I didn't know any better, I'd say you had balls. You are Cassandra Ryan version 2, and you think you have the right to question what's different about me? Get your head out of Brads ass and actually look around for once. The air out here is quite refreshing and I'll bet it smells a whole lot better. The only thing Brad is going to get for his little War is another trip to the unemployment line, and how is he gonna feed fifteen kids on state money? You want this company to go **** off and die..? Maybe you should.."
(She leans closer in to drive the point home.)
"Grow the **** up or get the **** out.... Hmmm.. maybe I'll put that on a t-shirt somewhere."
(End.)
(Jeff, the ever present sound technician sat in an armchair in the St.James (Germaine) apartment. Glen sat in the opposite chair. The furniture in the apartment had slowly grown into something resembling halfway decent as the paychecks rolled in from the wrestling. They were still heavily in debt, but it was looking up.)
"Nope, we left for Suspense. She wrestled the match, and I could not find her afterwards. So, I just came back here."
"What if she's like.. dead in a ditch somewhere?"
"I am not that lucky."
"Kidnapped by some satanic rape cult...?"
"I am not that lucky."
"Turned into a mummy worshipping, Sluttress...?"
"And how would that be different from now, exactly..?"
(Jeff opens his mouth, then closes it as he ponders what was said. Then he shrugs.)
"Point taken."
"To be honest, I just wish I knew where she was. If she doesn't show up for work, I'm homeless. And I am not going to go back to being an esc-.."
(He gets cut off by the door opening. Ayla stumbles in, seemingly in a stupor. Not a drunken haze, but a state of pure bliss.)
"Ahhhh life is gooooooooodd...."
(She waltzes across the room, and plops down on the couch. Exactly like a girl from one of those crappy teen drama flicks that just got back from a dream date with their dream boy. Wait, did I read that right?)
"Welcome home madame. ....Now.. where have you been?"
"Cleo invited me to her island in the Mediteranean.. and it was..."
(She closes her eyes blissfully and takes a deep chest heaving breath.)
"FANTASTIC...!!"
"That's.. umm.. great.."
"So, what did you do?"
"Well..."
-----------------Mandatory Flashback wave---------------------
"You want me to do what?"
"I want you to tell all of your friends about me."
"I can do that. I mean, they'll be as impressed with you as I am."
"That is exactly what I am hoping for."
"This is a beautiful Island."
"Thank you."
"Everybody seems so nice. And they worship you."
"Yes, they do."
"I'll start making phone calls on Monday."
"Thank you so much Ayla. Let me show you to your room."
"Cool..."
------------------End Flashback---------------------------------
"So, how long were you there?"
"We left the minute after Suspense was over, celebrated the win on her private jet, and her private yacht. Then it was two glorious days of sun and the breeze until yesterday morning when I got back."
"Ayla, it's Tuesday. What have you been doing since yesterday?"
"You left me at the arena, ya jerk!"
(Her outburst shocks both men.)
"What was I supposed to do? Sit there and wait at an empty arena until you got back?"
"In a word, yes!"
"I give the hell up..."
(He stands up, exascervated and heads for the door.)
"Where the hell are you going?"
"Just.. away from you and that she devil stench you carry with you.. I'm done with all of this."
(The door slams with authority.)
"Wow, he really left..."
"He'll be back."
"Uh huh.. So are you.."
"Gonna cut a promo? Yea, I'll get to it."
(The camera shifted position so it faced only Ayla, who sat up, adjusted her skirt, and then looked at it with a pleasant smile on her face.)
"Life is good sometimes. When I got here, I heard the same things. I'm a loser cuz I was on a daytime soap. I'm even more of a loser cuz it was only on in Canada. I'm a triple loser cuz I'm Canadian. I'm a quadruple loser cuz my boobs are fake..."
(She pauses for a second.)
"On second thought that makes me cool. But I digress. Anyway it was always the same. Nobody wanted to hang out with me, everybody thought I was this prima donna who was all snooty, without even getting to know me. But not Cleo. Cleo isn't just any mere woman, she is the Goddess. I know this because everyone on that island told me so. They don't just love her there, they adore her, they worship her and all of you should too. I'm talking from the champ ZK, all the way down to that smelly freak the Cat Lady. But you won't.. you're all just mad that out of all you wannabes... the Goddess... chose... me..."
(She smirks confidently. Damn prissy if you ask me.)
"So much for being discarded after she's done with me, eh Emma? She's not only invited me to her private island to hang out and get a decent tan, she's also asking me to bring all of my friends along. You just can't handle the fact that she's so nice and generous and you're a smarmy repressed english prat who only hangs around with a creepy dude and some chick who has more muscles than estrogen. But don't worry, you'll be ok. You'll cling to the victory you have over me like it's your favorite blanket and hide your shame and sorrow behind a veil of smug confidence. I know it hurts you on the inside, and that's good enough for me. The Dutchess is dead, Emma..."
(She tilts her head back, closes her eyes and folds her hands before her in prayer. She takes a slow, deep, chest heaving breath before opening them again.)
"Long live the Goddess.."
(She resumes her original position.)
"Are you serious? Jaymie Boone is gonna step away from the commentary table and suddenly she's god's gift to wrestling? Give me a break sister. You have about as much talent as Davey Boone and Seth Drabble had.. yes.. I can google things too.. and let me tell you, from what I saw the only real talent Davey Boone has was being a great actor, and I'd dare to say that he is the third best on the planet. Right behind the Punisher, and myself of course. Truth is, I'm not going to put you on your back Jaymie, not because I know what usually happens to you when you are, but because it's far easier to make you tap out while you're face down on the canvas. Which is a step up from being face down in a ditch like you usually are. Don't like it? Kiss my Canadian ass, or actually do something about it besides show the entire world that your cootch is more played out than the Real World. I have no time or tolerance for you."
(She huffs in anger and folds her arms over her chest.)
"And as for Megan Kane, another of those so called 'original' people. You asked me a question, allow me to answer. What makes me different? Name one female on the roster who is A: Canadian.. no Cassandra I quit Ryan does not count.. B: An Actor... and no, yours and Jaymies porn careers do not count.. and C: a natural blonde with an impressive rack. You can't, because I'm the original. Where as you are just leeching off of Brads career, just like Julietta.. just like Cassandra.. I mean, this is your first match and you're demanding better competition? If I didn't know any better, I'd say you had balls. You are Cassandra Ryan version 2, and you think you have the right to question what's different about me? Get your head out of Brads ass and actually look around for once. The air out here is quite refreshing and I'll bet it smells a whole lot better. The only thing Brad is going to get for his little War is another trip to the unemployment line, and how is he gonna feed fifteen kids on state money? You want this company to go **** off and die..? Maybe you should.."
(She leans closer in to drive the point home.)
"Grow the **** up or get the **** out.... Hmmm.. maybe I'll put that on a t-shirt somewhere."
(End.)