Post by Alysson Gardner on Jul 20, 2012 23:41:32 GMT -6
I didn't remember being this long in front of a computer ever before. But now living in Boston, I need to know where stuff is. And with the negotiations to buy that old house for me to build my wrestling facility, I need to know where to buy the material and for a price as good as the one I used to practice when I lived in New York. I have absolutely no idea how much time I've been doing this, but one thing's for sure: I now have a big list of warehouses and utility shops that I can call as soon as the house deal is done.
I shut the monitor down, and my eyes kinda cringe. Part of being so much time in front of the shiny screen. I wonder what has Michael been doing all this time.
Alysson: Mike, honey?
Spike: Yeah?
His voice comes from the kitchen. I rub my eyes and go his way, a little bit dazed by the lights. The once neutral expression I had in my face quickly turns into a huge smile as I see Michael feeding our little baby boy Xander. This is usually my duty - hey, I'm the woman of the house! Even though I can't physically have children, I have to take care of my 2-year-old stepson! - but Michael was so kind to do it while I was distracted. Also kind enough to throw it in my face.
Spike: He was hungry, so I heated the food. I just hope I didn't heat it too much?
Alysson: Knock it off, super dad. I'm sure you1re doing fine.
Instinctively, I bring a finger to Xander's food and touch it. It's the ideal warmth; I knew Spike wouldn't mess up wit hthat. What surprises me after I touch Xander's food is the fact that the little boy suddenly reached for my hand and grabbed my index finger with his little hand. He looks at me and blurts out with a huge smile on his face.
Xander: MAMA!
"Mama" seems to be his favorite word these days. Every time he sees me anew, he shouts it. It's not even funny anymore.
... who am I kidding? It's the most damn cute thing EVER. I smile everytime he does this, and so does Michael.
Spike: Yeah, boy! Look at mama! She's looking good, isn't she?
The little boy flails his arms sillily, and I just giggle and sigh.
Spike: So, did you get what you needed from the Internet? You wasted over an hour there.
Alysson: ... and what have you been doing for all this time that you didn't call me back to reality?
Spike: Well... I played some games until Xander started moaning, and then I came here to feed him. I was about to ask you if you wanted to eat something, but you broke out of your trance first.
I then reach over the counter and kiss him on the lips. "So sweet of you," I mutter as I come back to my place.
Alysson: Actually, I'm kinda hungry, yeah. Is there something quick to prepare, like pasta, insta-soup, ham and cheese sandwich?
Spike: ... well, there's Xander's grub.
I throw Spike a funny face as he laughs.
Spike: I can make you a sandwich after I'm done here, don't worry. Even because Xander is almost done with his meal, aren't you, big dude?
Again Xander flails his arms cutely, letting out a happy "Bah!" as daddy Spike smiles at him. With a sighing smile, I walk around the counter and hug my man from behind. He touches my hand and caresses it.
Alysson: Are you gonna be this kind to me all the time?
Spike: Why not? You deserve it.
Spike then turns around and hugs me directly, kissing my forehead. We then touch noses. I think he can hear me purr.
Spike: Why would I change the way I treat the most badass and breath-taking woman in the entire world? If I ever do that, you can as well send me to the loony bin.
I giggle. But he touched in a soft spot. Things have been getting difficult, and I'm afraid I may be getting careless as far as our wrestling careers go. And hey... Spike met me while we were fighting a common enemy in my brother. He knows me as an amazon. But I guess my feminine side is getting to me.
Alysson: Michael... Will you... Will you like me less if I fail?
Spike raises his eyes at me, not quite getting what I mean.
Spike: What the hell are you talking about?
Alysson: If I start making mistakes... If I become less strong... Say, I lose my championship... Will you like me less?
Spike: ... that's the most ridiculous question you've EVER asked me.
I raise my eyes at him, confused, looking up at him. He's a few inches taller than me, so it's natural. But he can sense my insecurity, it beams into him from my eyes, and maybe my entire body. But as a response, he just smiles.
Spike: We've been together through the worst of times. You were there with me when I was arrested. You were there with me when I had that breakdown. I was there with you when you lost your memory and you couldn't even remember who I was. I was there during your whole recovery. We won and lost many matches... And titles too. We had every reason to drift apart from one another, yet we stood there, by one another's side. Not letting go. Not giving up. And now we're just one week away from our wedding.
I lower my head and chuckle nervously.
Alysson: ... one week away from the rest of our lives. Damn, has it been, what, one year, almost two, that we've been together?
Again I raise my eyes at him.
Alysson: Spike, you gave my life a new meaning. I don't want to lose what we have right now. Are you sure this is not a gig? Is this... Is this for real? Are we really gonna do all that, are we really gonna go through all that stuff? W-What if it's an illusion?
Spike: It's not an illusion, Alysson. You love me, I love you, and we'll make a family right here. You left your old life, I left my ghosts behind, and this is a fresh restart. We got something good going on here. It's not an illusion, it's not a gig, it's not something made up for someone's entertainment. This is real, Alysson. And I love you to the bloody death.
I smile widely, as I'm at some kind of loss of words. Rare for a composer and a rockstar like me. Damn, this boy is softening me up.
Alysson: Who'd have thought that after all this time, we'd come so far.
Spike remains silent for a while. Maybe he's also looking for words. But at the end, we're better off silent. The warm embrace of two people that could stop and say only so much. But that was enough.
Until, of course, Xander Aiden Kane yells he is still hungry in his own way. Joys of living in family.
(This promo opens inside a burial ground. The NCW Starlets' Champion Alysson Gardner stands in front of a nameless grave, mourning for someone or something unknown. After a little while, she lifts her shades and looks into the lens.)
Oh, there she goes, doing exactly what everybody else before her has already done before... Doing exactly what I was expecting her to. Wow, Jennifer, aren't you previsible. It's like I could hear the words coming out of your mouth exactly the way you said them. Déjà vu. But there's one thing you seem to have forgotten, Jenny... Imitators are always a step behind. In every single sense. And you are a step behind each and everyone of the people you've ripped off thus far. No matter how bad you try to hog their spotlights, you ARE a step behind Todd; you ARE a step behind Crystal - like that means anything at this point but whatever -; you are MILLIONS of steps behind Sydney... and you're definitely behind Shelly Taylor-Jones.
(As the image pans out, Alysson's lower half is revealed, and she is holding a dirt shovel. She lifts it to the lens and smirks.)
Here, look, I brought the shovel.
(Disposing of the shovel, she turns her full attention to the message.)
You want to talk about the illegitimacy of my accolades, then fine. Let's see - I entered in a Riot Match with the number 6 and threw my best friend out of the ring to win the vacant championship, without even knowing the match was for the championship. For you, it might mean "being in the right place at the right time"; for me, it means giving my best at every time. Then, defending the belt against Emma Danielson while we were being, uh, how did you put it? "Overshadowed" by Shelly and Crystal. Yeah, was it because Emma was deemed most suitable as an opponent for me, and Shelly and Christina had so much to prove they worked their sweet asses off to pull off a good match? Yeah, sounds like reasonable to me. And being given the Championship for a second time in a silver platter? Oh, that's golden. Since Ashlie was so kind to let me hold the championship because it was too heavy for her. Because we totally didn't pull off a main-event blockbuster match at A Night to Remember. You can ask her, she's right there at the reach of your hand. Call her and you'll have her version of the story.
Do refresh my memory, though, because I seem to have forgotten something. Where were you at A Night to Remember again? Oh yeah - in the pre-show, drwing yawns from the poor wrestling fans watching you on YouTube for free, battling your own sister-in-law in the most poorly hyped match of the decade. Yeah, that sounds pretty awesome.
And you, Jennifer? What are YOUR accolades? Becoming the #1 in the ranks for winning consecutive two-and-a-half-star matches? Impressive. Obviously you're one of those people that think quantity is better than quality. Well, if the same old trick will give you the same number of style points, then why the hell not? Even because, even though you did attend to my plea and leave the whole "look at me, I'm a cute gaming nerd wrestler kinda chick" s***, you brought up the same old crap every single one of my past opponents came up with before.
Again... You're a step behind.
But hey, you're a fast learner, and I'm pretty damn sure Ashlie is proud of you, since you've already assimilated what she does best: you don't hear what you say. If you stopped to analyze the s*** that comes out of your mouth for just one second, you'll realize you do yourself more damage than I do. And just like the both of your family members that disgrace the roster of this company, and, unfortunately, much like the one you've been managed by as well... You just don't pay attention. You don't pay any attention to what you say, what you do, what you claim you are. But on the other hand, Ashlie herself was gracious in defeat; something I know and admit I could never have been. And you? What kind of champion are you going to be if you defeat me?
Will you be gracious in defeat like Ashlie, or will you do like your brother, who left everybody hanging and acted like a bitch after losing the NCW World Championship and had to resort to the "look at me, I'm hurt and still wrestling" LIE to harness the attention he needs to survive, being the attention whore he is? As far as I and the entire NCW roster and spectators go, Todd is the one doing the ridiculous to get by, not me.
But knowing you and your lineage, you'd be more like your dear sister-in-law in Christina Williams. You know, the one who's never accomplished anything, and doesn't even give management the time to invest in her, because she's always on and off the ring like a weak and choking battery. How many times did she step out of the ring to write that s***ty observer column of hers, that one in broken English that nobody would read because not only they wouldn't care about what an inconsistent bitch has to say, but also because nobody can take Kelly Fox's place as a columnist to feed the hunger of those who crave for journalism? Except when the journalist's name is Michael Patrick Kane, the only one to give actual insider overview instead of puking out fan swoons and badly-rhymed spells... But I digress.
But don't worry, Jenny-cakes, you're on the right way to one thing: become the next parameter of ridiculousness in NCW. With the rest of the sell-out, have-been circus escapees you have for a family returning to their damp cave, you'll certainly become the next paragon of mediocrity, just like you are already mediocre with your headlines about posing for magazines cosplaying a wrestler - because that's as far as you'll ever come to being a wrestler anyway; like you are already mediocre with coming up with "new" hit-and-miss arguments to try and nick me; like you
are already mediocre in faking you are a serious businesswoman and a wrestler when you are in fact but a pet to all of those whose boots you're used to lick clean.
And even if you do get lucky and beat me for the championship, you're going to be just like all the others you have copied thus far. A paper champion, fearing the next summer breeze to come and wash you out. An opportunity waster. A castle made with cards.
Are you mad at me already? Furious? Outraged? Sick with anger? I'll bet you are, because you already want to kill me. Believe me, I'm honored. What are you going to do about it? Are you going to send your beautiful and smart manager to come after me with negotiation proposals so I can sell the title to you? I'm sorry, but I've beaten her already. So how about you send your big bad boyfriend after me, the almighty Homeless One?
... whoops, I just remembered. I've been in the ring with him already. Big scary dude. Dazed him for a while with a well placed punch to the jaw. Guess I'm not too bad, uh? And even if he's bigger than me... I have someone as big and scary as he is; his name is Spike Kane, a Hall of Famer, the man of my life, and the one I've ran to take care of when he had a breakdown with drugs the very same night I was supposed to fight for some stupid championships alongside a woman who would double-cross me later on anyway. Again, kudos for paying attention.
But don't worry. That's not something most of the people have been doing anyway. So you can go ahead and gush out all of your nonsense. Sticks and stones. Join the club of the flocking sheep, alongside all of the rest of your family, since, if you're a Williams, you're likely blind, deaf and in denial already. And if you aren't, that can be easily solved. Because when we meet this Sunday, I'm going to
ROCK YOUR WORLD
and you'll have enough time settling back in being your usual uncreative self at the end of the line where you belong.
And remember, sweetheart: you may be happy with living a dream... But reality is cold and unforgiving. And I'll be there to show it to you first hand.
(And with that, Alysson lowers her shades, going back to mourning the unknown, as we fade to nothingness.)
I shut the monitor down, and my eyes kinda cringe. Part of being so much time in front of the shiny screen. I wonder what has Michael been doing all this time.
Alysson: Mike, honey?
Spike: Yeah?
His voice comes from the kitchen. I rub my eyes and go his way, a little bit dazed by the lights. The once neutral expression I had in my face quickly turns into a huge smile as I see Michael feeding our little baby boy Xander. This is usually my duty - hey, I'm the woman of the house! Even though I can't physically have children, I have to take care of my 2-year-old stepson! - but Michael was so kind to do it while I was distracted. Also kind enough to throw it in my face.
Spike: He was hungry, so I heated the food. I just hope I didn't heat it too much?
Alysson: Knock it off, super dad. I'm sure you1re doing fine.
Instinctively, I bring a finger to Xander's food and touch it. It's the ideal warmth; I knew Spike wouldn't mess up wit hthat. What surprises me after I touch Xander's food is the fact that the little boy suddenly reached for my hand and grabbed my index finger with his little hand. He looks at me and blurts out with a huge smile on his face.
Xander: MAMA!
"Mama" seems to be his favorite word these days. Every time he sees me anew, he shouts it. It's not even funny anymore.
... who am I kidding? It's the most damn cute thing EVER. I smile everytime he does this, and so does Michael.
Spike: Yeah, boy! Look at mama! She's looking good, isn't she?
The little boy flails his arms sillily, and I just giggle and sigh.
Spike: So, did you get what you needed from the Internet? You wasted over an hour there.
Alysson: ... and what have you been doing for all this time that you didn't call me back to reality?
Spike: Well... I played some games until Xander started moaning, and then I came here to feed him. I was about to ask you if you wanted to eat something, but you broke out of your trance first.
I then reach over the counter and kiss him on the lips. "So sweet of you," I mutter as I come back to my place.
Alysson: Actually, I'm kinda hungry, yeah. Is there something quick to prepare, like pasta, insta-soup, ham and cheese sandwich?
Spike: ... well, there's Xander's grub.
I throw Spike a funny face as he laughs.
Spike: I can make you a sandwich after I'm done here, don't worry. Even because Xander is almost done with his meal, aren't you, big dude?
Again Xander flails his arms cutely, letting out a happy "Bah!" as daddy Spike smiles at him. With a sighing smile, I walk around the counter and hug my man from behind. He touches my hand and caresses it.
Alysson: Are you gonna be this kind to me all the time?
Spike: Why not? You deserve it.
Spike then turns around and hugs me directly, kissing my forehead. We then touch noses. I think he can hear me purr.
Spike: Why would I change the way I treat the most badass and breath-taking woman in the entire world? If I ever do that, you can as well send me to the loony bin.
I giggle. But he touched in a soft spot. Things have been getting difficult, and I'm afraid I may be getting careless as far as our wrestling careers go. And hey... Spike met me while we were fighting a common enemy in my brother. He knows me as an amazon. But I guess my feminine side is getting to me.
Alysson: Michael... Will you... Will you like me less if I fail?
Spike raises his eyes at me, not quite getting what I mean.
Spike: What the hell are you talking about?
Alysson: If I start making mistakes... If I become less strong... Say, I lose my championship... Will you like me less?
Spike: ... that's the most ridiculous question you've EVER asked me.
I raise my eyes at him, confused, looking up at him. He's a few inches taller than me, so it's natural. But he can sense my insecurity, it beams into him from my eyes, and maybe my entire body. But as a response, he just smiles.
Spike: We've been together through the worst of times. You were there with me when I was arrested. You were there with me when I had that breakdown. I was there with you when you lost your memory and you couldn't even remember who I was. I was there during your whole recovery. We won and lost many matches... And titles too. We had every reason to drift apart from one another, yet we stood there, by one another's side. Not letting go. Not giving up. And now we're just one week away from our wedding.
I lower my head and chuckle nervously.
Alysson: ... one week away from the rest of our lives. Damn, has it been, what, one year, almost two, that we've been together?
Again I raise my eyes at him.
Alysson: Spike, you gave my life a new meaning. I don't want to lose what we have right now. Are you sure this is not a gig? Is this... Is this for real? Are we really gonna do all that, are we really gonna go through all that stuff? W-What if it's an illusion?
Spike: It's not an illusion, Alysson. You love me, I love you, and we'll make a family right here. You left your old life, I left my ghosts behind, and this is a fresh restart. We got something good going on here. It's not an illusion, it's not a gig, it's not something made up for someone's entertainment. This is real, Alysson. And I love you to the bloody death.
I smile widely, as I'm at some kind of loss of words. Rare for a composer and a rockstar like me. Damn, this boy is softening me up.
Alysson: Who'd have thought that after all this time, we'd come so far.
Spike remains silent for a while. Maybe he's also looking for words. But at the end, we're better off silent. The warm embrace of two people that could stop and say only so much. But that was enough.
Until, of course, Xander Aiden Kane yells he is still hungry in his own way. Joys of living in family.
(This promo opens inside a burial ground. The NCW Starlets' Champion Alysson Gardner stands in front of a nameless grave, mourning for someone or something unknown. After a little while, she lifts her shades and looks into the lens.)
Oh, there she goes, doing exactly what everybody else before her has already done before... Doing exactly what I was expecting her to. Wow, Jennifer, aren't you previsible. It's like I could hear the words coming out of your mouth exactly the way you said them. Déjà vu. But there's one thing you seem to have forgotten, Jenny... Imitators are always a step behind. In every single sense. And you are a step behind each and everyone of the people you've ripped off thus far. No matter how bad you try to hog their spotlights, you ARE a step behind Todd; you ARE a step behind Crystal - like that means anything at this point but whatever -; you are MILLIONS of steps behind Sydney... and you're definitely behind Shelly Taylor-Jones.
(As the image pans out, Alysson's lower half is revealed, and she is holding a dirt shovel. She lifts it to the lens and smirks.)
Here, look, I brought the shovel.
(Disposing of the shovel, she turns her full attention to the message.)
You want to talk about the illegitimacy of my accolades, then fine. Let's see - I entered in a Riot Match with the number 6 and threw my best friend out of the ring to win the vacant championship, without even knowing the match was for the championship. For you, it might mean "being in the right place at the right time"; for me, it means giving my best at every time. Then, defending the belt against Emma Danielson while we were being, uh, how did you put it? "Overshadowed" by Shelly and Crystal. Yeah, was it because Emma was deemed most suitable as an opponent for me, and Shelly and Christina had so much to prove they worked their sweet asses off to pull off a good match? Yeah, sounds like reasonable to me. And being given the Championship for a second time in a silver platter? Oh, that's golden. Since Ashlie was so kind to let me hold the championship because it was too heavy for her. Because we totally didn't pull off a main-event blockbuster match at A Night to Remember. You can ask her, she's right there at the reach of your hand. Call her and you'll have her version of the story.
Do refresh my memory, though, because I seem to have forgotten something. Where were you at A Night to Remember again? Oh yeah - in the pre-show, drwing yawns from the poor wrestling fans watching you on YouTube for free, battling your own sister-in-law in the most poorly hyped match of the decade. Yeah, that sounds pretty awesome.
And you, Jennifer? What are YOUR accolades? Becoming the #1 in the ranks for winning consecutive two-and-a-half-star matches? Impressive. Obviously you're one of those people that think quantity is better than quality. Well, if the same old trick will give you the same number of style points, then why the hell not? Even because, even though you did attend to my plea and leave the whole "look at me, I'm a cute gaming nerd wrestler kinda chick" s***, you brought up the same old crap every single one of my past opponents came up with before.
Again... You're a step behind.
But hey, you're a fast learner, and I'm pretty damn sure Ashlie is proud of you, since you've already assimilated what she does best: you don't hear what you say. If you stopped to analyze the s*** that comes out of your mouth for just one second, you'll realize you do yourself more damage than I do. And just like the both of your family members that disgrace the roster of this company, and, unfortunately, much like the one you've been managed by as well... You just don't pay attention. You don't pay any attention to what you say, what you do, what you claim you are. But on the other hand, Ashlie herself was gracious in defeat; something I know and admit I could never have been. And you? What kind of champion are you going to be if you defeat me?
Will you be gracious in defeat like Ashlie, or will you do like your brother, who left everybody hanging and acted like a bitch after losing the NCW World Championship and had to resort to the "look at me, I'm hurt and still wrestling" LIE to harness the attention he needs to survive, being the attention whore he is? As far as I and the entire NCW roster and spectators go, Todd is the one doing the ridiculous to get by, not me.
But knowing you and your lineage, you'd be more like your dear sister-in-law in Christina Williams. You know, the one who's never accomplished anything, and doesn't even give management the time to invest in her, because she's always on and off the ring like a weak and choking battery. How many times did she step out of the ring to write that s***ty observer column of hers, that one in broken English that nobody would read because not only they wouldn't care about what an inconsistent bitch has to say, but also because nobody can take Kelly Fox's place as a columnist to feed the hunger of those who crave for journalism? Except when the journalist's name is Michael Patrick Kane, the only one to give actual insider overview instead of puking out fan swoons and badly-rhymed spells... But I digress.
But don't worry, Jenny-cakes, you're on the right way to one thing: become the next parameter of ridiculousness in NCW. With the rest of the sell-out, have-been circus escapees you have for a family returning to their damp cave, you'll certainly become the next paragon of mediocrity, just like you are already mediocre with your headlines about posing for magazines cosplaying a wrestler - because that's as far as you'll ever come to being a wrestler anyway; like you are already mediocre with coming up with "new" hit-and-miss arguments to try and nick me; like you
are already mediocre in faking you are a serious businesswoman and a wrestler when you are in fact but a pet to all of those whose boots you're used to lick clean.
And even if you do get lucky and beat me for the championship, you're going to be just like all the others you have copied thus far. A paper champion, fearing the next summer breeze to come and wash you out. An opportunity waster. A castle made with cards.
Are you mad at me already? Furious? Outraged? Sick with anger? I'll bet you are, because you already want to kill me. Believe me, I'm honored. What are you going to do about it? Are you going to send your beautiful and smart manager to come after me with negotiation proposals so I can sell the title to you? I'm sorry, but I've beaten her already. So how about you send your big bad boyfriend after me, the almighty Homeless One?
... whoops, I just remembered. I've been in the ring with him already. Big scary dude. Dazed him for a while with a well placed punch to the jaw. Guess I'm not too bad, uh? And even if he's bigger than me... I have someone as big and scary as he is; his name is Spike Kane, a Hall of Famer, the man of my life, and the one I've ran to take care of when he had a breakdown with drugs the very same night I was supposed to fight for some stupid championships alongside a woman who would double-cross me later on anyway. Again, kudos for paying attention.
But don't worry. That's not something most of the people have been doing anyway. So you can go ahead and gush out all of your nonsense. Sticks and stones. Join the club of the flocking sheep, alongside all of the rest of your family, since, if you're a Williams, you're likely blind, deaf and in denial already. And if you aren't, that can be easily solved. Because when we meet this Sunday, I'm going to
ROCK YOUR WORLD
and you'll have enough time settling back in being your usual uncreative self at the end of the line where you belong.
And remember, sweetheart: you may be happy with living a dream... But reality is cold and unforgiving. And I'll be there to show it to you first hand.
(And with that, Alysson lowers her shades, going back to mourning the unknown, as we fade to nothingness.)
