Post by Emma Danielson on Aug 15, 2010 1:19:26 GMT -6
Emma Danielson flings open her hotel room door, head hung. She walks in, looking around wearily before crossing to the couch and flopping onto it, sighing as she finally finds some semi-comfortable seating. She sighs, trying to block out the sounds of Andrew Jacobsen drunkenly singing Kiss a few rooms over. Emma cracks open a conveniently placed bottle of Coke and takes a swig, groaning. She walks back over and slams the door, muffling his semi-coherent singing, and drops back down, groaning again when she hears Rick Jacobsen join in.
"That sells it. I am never going drinking with him again. He always gets sloshed and starts bitching about how he never does anything right. He's a former champion, so he obviously did SOMETHING right. I can't say the same...but I know that none of these "Dead Girls" are gonna be able to either. Alex's had a million shots at the title and never made it work, Malice would need to get off the psychotropics—and I'm sorry, girl, but that's what you're on—and Maria...I'll get to Maria's defects in a bit, and believe me, there's enough wrong with that girl to keep Freud busy for decades.”
She sits up again, banging on the wall her room shares with the one where the Jacobsen brothers presumably are. The singing quiets down, with a muffled “Sorry” coming a few moments later. Emma shakes her head again and takes another swig of her Coke reflexively. She looks at it and sets it down, grumbling to herself.
“Gotta break the habit...anyway, I suppose I can start off with the opponent I've got the most experience against, Alexandra Kane. Alex, you...you really perplex me. You keep maintaining that you're a goddess. Look, you suck. You've had chance and chance again to prove your worth. You had an Ultimate X match where you and Ayla could have just taken the other two girls out and won. But noooo, you ended up screwing that chance up. You're incompetent. That's the only explanation. Your ring skills, while initially impressive, seem to have decayed to the point where you're getting beat by Ashlie Ember. Speaking of my partner, is there something about being in a relationship with a Knite that gives you insane wrestling skills? Just wondering.”
She absently twirls a length of hair around her finger in thought, sipping her Coke. She notices this and sighs, reaching down and holding up a sign that says “I AM NOT BEING SPONSORED BY COCA-COLA. I JUST LIKE COKE. THAT IS ALL. GO BACK TO OBSESSING OVER OTHER THINGS.” She sets the sign back down again.
“Alex...come on. You've got to realize that until someone steps up and dethrones Zelda—likely someone new, but I'm hoping I can be the one—nothing's going to change here. It's going to be the same cycle of “name a contender, Zelda wins, repeat”, with the entire division fiending for that slot. Why can't we get attention for other things? Why does it have to be about the title? We've built this division on solid wrestling, so I think we can maybe try to get another match on an actual pay-per-view and not just Wired. Come on, step up. Kane, you should seriously try to at least LIVE up to your moniker. You're the Queen of Kings, that makes me the Queen of Extreme, and you, madam, are extremely terrible. NEXT!”
Emma looks over to the wall, where the singing seems to be resuming, but they've changed from Kiss to Motley Crue. She bangs her head against the wall, cursing to herself. She pounds on the wall with her fists again, shouting through the material at them.
“OI! SHUT UP BEFORE I COME OVER THERE AND KICK YOUR ASSES FOR MURDERING THAT SONG!”
They clam up instantly. Emma grins, sinking back into her seat and grabbing her drink. She winces briefly when they begin singing again, but quieter.
“Christ...will they stop? Anyway, where was I...oh, yeah. I had another look at Malice's promo, and I noticed the not-so subtle implications of that. Yeah, because I'm totally a defenseless princess who's going to fall for a man without finding out who he is underneath first. I'm also pretty perplexed over your generic “I'll drag you through the fires of hell to make Daddy proud” bit. Yeah, you want to make Seph proud? Once again, I wonder how we hired you. How old are you, girl? And do you know how improbably creepy it is to see you calling Maria “mommy”? You two should have been in high school together, and now...eeech. On the plus side, you don't seem to be nearly as dangerous as you paint yourself. I've beaten better women than you. Julietta Lee would tear you apart, little girl. Emma English would kick your ass from here to tea-time. My point is, so many before you have come and gone, and they all were better than you. You aren't afraid of me, little girl? You should be. I will rip you to bits and I won't have a second of remorse about it. Sad? Don't be. I'd do it to anyone.”
Emma stands up from the couch, showing off her T-shirt intentionally. She grins as she does a few mock QVC/The Price Is Right hand gestures to highlight the design, which features Emma, Zelda, Rayne and Megan Kane, with the slogan “nCw: Wrestling Redefined” underneath. She grins at the camera again, pacing around.
“Malice, you compared me to silver. Silver might never tarnish, but do you know what else silver signifies? Second-best. Runner-up. You do NOT want to call me second-best. I aim to be the absolute best this company can produce, and I WILL get there. I'm always trying to expand my repertoire, and having to wrestle some loonies like you and your “mom” and Alex should force me to innovate. Malice...I really want to feel sympathetic towards you. I do. But you're in desperate need of professional help...maybe moreso than anyone on the roster, you need it. I want you to get it because I want you to be able to live a regular life. As long as you're across the ring from me, though...I'll just beat the hell out of you. Crack, wham, pow, and all those other comic book sound effects you're so used to hearing on your jaunts into the bizarre. End of story.”
Emma walks around the coffee table, grinning to herself as she mentally goes down the list of participants in the match and realizes who she's gotten to now.
“And then there was Maria...poor, poor Maria...poor, DUMB Maria. You seriously think that anyone in this company, much less the women, will welcome your little crusade with open arms? You've got to be screwed up in the dome to accept that premise for even a microsecond. You aren't wanted. You aren't going anywhere. And you aren't going to beat us. I noticed that all of you at least faintly praised me, and I wondered why. Then I realized that you probably got the firsthand account from Alex of how I am in the ring and decided to try and placate me so I wouldn't go all beast mode on you. Well, I have news for you: it didn't work. Maria, as the leader of this little group, I'd be the most worried if I were you. You've run your mouth a lot, and I've planned on making each of you pay for how much you've been talking. I know your brother and your husband have their beef, and that's fine. Let them resolve it. But I've got an issue with you guys. Not because you're trying to be competitive, but because you talk too much and...and you're cowards, frankly. All the sneak attacks and beatdowns just...we do things in the ring, not like that. You have no idea how much this is going to make me happy to make you all pay for your mouths.”
She sits back down, noticing that the singing from the other room has finally tapered off. She grins, relaxing and taking another drink from her Coke. Emma closes her eyes briefly and smiles, getting a bit of relaxation in for once.
“Ahh...Ayla, Ashlie, you're both good wrestlers. Ayla, I've gotten a lot of respect for you over the last few months. You've really proven that you're more than just some pretty face who got into wrestling for ****s and giggles. If you want at Alex, just let me know. I'll get out and let you wreak havoc on her. Je serais honoré lutter avec vous un temps autres...mais cela devra attendre pour une autre jour. Pour maintenant, nous devons nous concentrer sur faire ces chiennes souffrons. Je suis sûr que vous pouvez faire cela bien. Ashlie...you're good. I have to admit that. Let's hope you can keep it up this time around. As for myself...well, I plan on doing EXACTLY what I've been doing since coming back: kicking ass, chewing bubblegum, and getting that much closer to another shot at whoever the Women's Champion may be. Dead Girls...you're going to wish you were dead after I get my hands on you. I've got two dedicated athletes on my side, and we're here to remind you girls that while you might have a fancy name, substance will ALWAYS win out over style. See you in the ring, suckers.”
Emma lays back on the couch, trying to fall asleep only to get jolted out of her reverie by Andrew and Rick launching into Bang Your Head (Metal Health) by Quiet Riot. Emma closes her eyes and sticks a pillow over her other ear as the video fades out, transitioning into the real song.
"That sells it. I am never going drinking with him again. He always gets sloshed and starts bitching about how he never does anything right. He's a former champion, so he obviously did SOMETHING right. I can't say the same...but I know that none of these "Dead Girls" are gonna be able to either. Alex's had a million shots at the title and never made it work, Malice would need to get off the psychotropics—and I'm sorry, girl, but that's what you're on—and Maria...I'll get to Maria's defects in a bit, and believe me, there's enough wrong with that girl to keep Freud busy for decades.”
She sits up again, banging on the wall her room shares with the one where the Jacobsen brothers presumably are. The singing quiets down, with a muffled “Sorry” coming a few moments later. Emma shakes her head again and takes another swig of her Coke reflexively. She looks at it and sets it down, grumbling to herself.
“Gotta break the habit...anyway, I suppose I can start off with the opponent I've got the most experience against, Alexandra Kane. Alex, you...you really perplex me. You keep maintaining that you're a goddess. Look, you suck. You've had chance and chance again to prove your worth. You had an Ultimate X match where you and Ayla could have just taken the other two girls out and won. But noooo, you ended up screwing that chance up. You're incompetent. That's the only explanation. Your ring skills, while initially impressive, seem to have decayed to the point where you're getting beat by Ashlie Ember. Speaking of my partner, is there something about being in a relationship with a Knite that gives you insane wrestling skills? Just wondering.”
She absently twirls a length of hair around her finger in thought, sipping her Coke. She notices this and sighs, reaching down and holding up a sign that says “I AM NOT BEING SPONSORED BY COCA-COLA. I JUST LIKE COKE. THAT IS ALL. GO BACK TO OBSESSING OVER OTHER THINGS.” She sets the sign back down again.
“Alex...come on. You've got to realize that until someone steps up and dethrones Zelda—likely someone new, but I'm hoping I can be the one—nothing's going to change here. It's going to be the same cycle of “name a contender, Zelda wins, repeat”, with the entire division fiending for that slot. Why can't we get attention for other things? Why does it have to be about the title? We've built this division on solid wrestling, so I think we can maybe try to get another match on an actual pay-per-view and not just Wired. Come on, step up. Kane, you should seriously try to at least LIVE up to your moniker. You're the Queen of Kings, that makes me the Queen of Extreme, and you, madam, are extremely terrible. NEXT!”
Emma looks over to the wall, where the singing seems to be resuming, but they've changed from Kiss to Motley Crue. She bangs her head against the wall, cursing to herself. She pounds on the wall with her fists again, shouting through the material at them.
“OI! SHUT UP BEFORE I COME OVER THERE AND KICK YOUR ASSES FOR MURDERING THAT SONG!”
They clam up instantly. Emma grins, sinking back into her seat and grabbing her drink. She winces briefly when they begin singing again, but quieter.
“Christ...will they stop? Anyway, where was I...oh, yeah. I had another look at Malice's promo, and I noticed the not-so subtle implications of that. Yeah, because I'm totally a defenseless princess who's going to fall for a man without finding out who he is underneath first. I'm also pretty perplexed over your generic “I'll drag you through the fires of hell to make Daddy proud” bit. Yeah, you want to make Seph proud? Once again, I wonder how we hired you. How old are you, girl? And do you know how improbably creepy it is to see you calling Maria “mommy”? You two should have been in high school together, and now...eeech. On the plus side, you don't seem to be nearly as dangerous as you paint yourself. I've beaten better women than you. Julietta Lee would tear you apart, little girl. Emma English would kick your ass from here to tea-time. My point is, so many before you have come and gone, and they all were better than you. You aren't afraid of me, little girl? You should be. I will rip you to bits and I won't have a second of remorse about it. Sad? Don't be. I'd do it to anyone.”
Emma stands up from the couch, showing off her T-shirt intentionally. She grins as she does a few mock QVC/The Price Is Right hand gestures to highlight the design, which features Emma, Zelda, Rayne and Megan Kane, with the slogan “nCw: Wrestling Redefined” underneath. She grins at the camera again, pacing around.
“Malice, you compared me to silver. Silver might never tarnish, but do you know what else silver signifies? Second-best. Runner-up. You do NOT want to call me second-best. I aim to be the absolute best this company can produce, and I WILL get there. I'm always trying to expand my repertoire, and having to wrestle some loonies like you and your “mom” and Alex should force me to innovate. Malice...I really want to feel sympathetic towards you. I do. But you're in desperate need of professional help...maybe moreso than anyone on the roster, you need it. I want you to get it because I want you to be able to live a regular life. As long as you're across the ring from me, though...I'll just beat the hell out of you. Crack, wham, pow, and all those other comic book sound effects you're so used to hearing on your jaunts into the bizarre. End of story.”
Emma walks around the coffee table, grinning to herself as she mentally goes down the list of participants in the match and realizes who she's gotten to now.
“And then there was Maria...poor, poor Maria...poor, DUMB Maria. You seriously think that anyone in this company, much less the women, will welcome your little crusade with open arms? You've got to be screwed up in the dome to accept that premise for even a microsecond. You aren't wanted. You aren't going anywhere. And you aren't going to beat us. I noticed that all of you at least faintly praised me, and I wondered why. Then I realized that you probably got the firsthand account from Alex of how I am in the ring and decided to try and placate me so I wouldn't go all beast mode on you. Well, I have news for you: it didn't work. Maria, as the leader of this little group, I'd be the most worried if I were you. You've run your mouth a lot, and I've planned on making each of you pay for how much you've been talking. I know your brother and your husband have their beef, and that's fine. Let them resolve it. But I've got an issue with you guys. Not because you're trying to be competitive, but because you talk too much and...and you're cowards, frankly. All the sneak attacks and beatdowns just...we do things in the ring, not like that. You have no idea how much this is going to make me happy to make you all pay for your mouths.”
She sits back down, noticing that the singing from the other room has finally tapered off. She grins, relaxing and taking another drink from her Coke. Emma closes her eyes briefly and smiles, getting a bit of relaxation in for once.
“Ahh...Ayla, Ashlie, you're both good wrestlers. Ayla, I've gotten a lot of respect for you over the last few months. You've really proven that you're more than just some pretty face who got into wrestling for ****s and giggles. If you want at Alex, just let me know. I'll get out and let you wreak havoc on her. Je serais honoré lutter avec vous un temps autres...mais cela devra attendre pour une autre jour. Pour maintenant, nous devons nous concentrer sur faire ces chiennes souffrons. Je suis sûr que vous pouvez faire cela bien. Ashlie...you're good. I have to admit that. Let's hope you can keep it up this time around. As for myself...well, I plan on doing EXACTLY what I've been doing since coming back: kicking ass, chewing bubblegum, and getting that much closer to another shot at whoever the Women's Champion may be. Dead Girls...you're going to wish you were dead after I get my hands on you. I've got two dedicated athletes on my side, and we're here to remind you girls that while you might have a fancy name, substance will ALWAYS win out over style. See you in the ring, suckers.”
Emma lays back on the couch, trying to fall asleep only to get jolted out of her reverie by Andrew and Rick launching into Bang Your Head (Metal Health) by Quiet Riot. Emma closes her eyes and sticks a pillow over her other ear as the video fades out, transitioning into the real song.