Post by Kathleen Conway on Jan 31, 2013 15:50:46 GMT -6
Dear, dear Rose Acantha.
How little you know.
And yet how much you presume to know.
Your naivety really is quite sweet, it must be why your dear Mister Nate loves you so. Strictly as a brother of course. Nobody could ever find the mentally unstable particularly sexually attractive, could they? Good lord no. If I was Freya Davis I would tell you that you need to get your petally little ass laid and be done with it, but I am not quite so crass, besides if Nathan has no interest in your little barely bloomed buds, then I don't think any other man on the roster would either. Maybe its because you address the world like a four year old girl rather than a fully grown woman...and to think, some men call me retarded. Maybe, the problem really isn't with you, after all, maybe its with him. The amount of times he has a little white stick hanging unceremoniously out of his mouth, I have to wonder just what else he likes to smoke.
I've never found he stench of coffee and cigarettes particularly arousing anyway, but now that we've obligatorily insulted the men we love in each other's lives for two minutes like the whooping 18-35 male demographic who tunes in to watch us every week expects us to, I trust we can move on, and get down to the real business at hand. Can we? Good. You see, whilst I know what our viewing audience expects from us this week and I've fulfilled that expectation within the first couple of minutes of my alloted airtime, frankly I expected so much more from you than I've already gotten...I still do infact.
The fact is Rose, as much as you may not like to admit it on camera, you should be bowing down to me right now. You should be kissing my boots and thanking me for the opportunities I've given you over the last few weeks. It isn't a matter of breaking wills here, if it were I'd be a great lumbering bald-headed bastard Australian ex convict who prefers the company of men while he sits locked away in his little room, unable to let go of the past that so clearly defines him. This isn't The Church of Thor, even if you should worship me as your Goddess, your salvation. This isn't about breaking your faith, your will or your world, Rose, it never was.
What this is about is proving a point. Not to my husband. Not to Emma. Not to Callie. But to you Rose. You see for months and months now you've been lead around like a little bitch on a leash, by none other than your surrogate brother, your beloved Mr Nate. I've already told you he doesn't regard you as a real woman, and why should he when you've been so damned subsurviant to him the entire time that you have been here in New Championship Wrestling? At this point, Nathan Webb has little more than a third dog in his household, just another loyal puppy who will follow him around with absolutely no mind or will of her own.
You're so damned desperate to please him that you'll routinely talk yourself into fights you cannot win. Just like dear ol' Mr Nate. He wants to wage a war against the Corporate Office, so you do too. He wants to kick Adam Knite in the head, you're right there behind him waiting to kick him in the balls. You're the kind of person who if Nathan hurled himself off of a cliff to his certain death, you would yell...."Hey, Mr Nate, wait for me!" You see Rose, I couldn't break your will even if I wanted to, because generous Mr Nate already has. Your utter devotion to him would be touching if it weren't all so frightfully sad.
Why are you so dependant on him, Rose?
Why do you so desperately seek his approval?
Why can't you stand on your own?
Aren't you sick of being coddled by him? Aren't you tired of being treated like a child? Wouldn't your time, and therefore your career be better spent realising your own desires? Fulfilling your own dreams? Having your own ambitions? What are they Rose? What are they really? Go on, you can tell me, tell me and maybe I can make them happen for you...you already know that if I so choose it is well within my power to make you a real Starlet. I want to spark that change in you Rose, I want to be the catalyst for your metamorphosis. As much as Mr Nate loves you, he seeks only to keep his pretty little butterfly in a jar of chloroform. He has stifled your true potential ever since you followed him here from the looney bin for whatever reason. You serve no real purpose to him other than to be the eye candy he keeps around in the background so people at least pay attention to something other than the tragically recycled threats of bringing down the man.
Look at how much I've already done for you, Rose. Because of me people are starting to notice you again. Because of me people have gone from saying "Hey look, its that girl who hangs around with Webb," to "Hey look, its the girl who hangs around with Webb....her name is Rose, I think." As much as you may disagree with my methods personally, Rose, you cannot deny that they work. They get you noticed. After all, isn't that what you wanted, Rose? It's what Mr Nate wants. Just a little attention from the important people in NCW, you know the people who actually matter. You want that too don't you, Rose? Let's face it you haven't had this many people talking about Rose Acantha since Amy Marshall broke your arm. You wanted the spotlight so badly. I just gave it to you.
Be thankful that I've only had it thrust upon you rather than thrown you through it like my husband did to Nathan a year ago, and with the rules of our match being what they are Rose, you'd do well to remember the X stands for Xtreme and not tempt me this Sunday. I've made you relevant again, I've taken you from your role as a glorified extra to potential future star, I've done more for you in three weeks than you have in months, and this is the thanks I get? I've put you up against some of the best women in the business and you still think this is all about me? That this is all some convoluted plot to get back at my husband for straying a little further than he should? You only see yourself as the victim here, because that's all you've ever been. That's all you've ever known.
You're not married so I wouldn't expect you to understand, but trust me girl, if all this was just a plot to vent my frustrations at my husband, there are so many easier ways I could have done it. If all I really wanted was to teach my husband a lesson and remind him of the solemn vows he made to me five years ago, I'd do it not by using you as a scapegoat but rather by introducing his genitals to a rusty pair of scissors. You see its incredibly easy to get a man to listen to you when you have him by the balls - and that's ultimately what I want you to do Rose. Grab Mr Nate, and your life, by the balls and tell him this is your last fight. That there will be no more corporate warfare for you. If he wants to kill himself, let him, there's no sense in your career dying too.
I want you to break Rose. I want you to snap. I want to you to give in. I want you to give up. I want you to submit...and I will help you to do just that, this Sunday, with or without Emma Danielson by my side...and I shall do all this...
Not for me.
But for you.
I will set you free Rose because nobody else cares enough about you to do it.
Nobody.
Not even Mr Nate.
The scene opens with Kathleen Conway sat in her luxuriously extravagant family home, with her brother-in-law Jason, on the way home from the courthouse, Jason had picked up two six packs of bottled beer and was already on his second bottle. Kathy swirled her half-empty glass of red wine as she looked at her wristwatch, frustrated that Emma and Jake had not gotten back yet.
Kathy: Thanks for the lift home.
Jason burped, and laughed, clearly intoxicated.
Jason: Beg your pardon. Excuse me. It was the least I could do.
Kathy smiled.
Jason: I can't believe he just left you there and went off with Emma...
Kathy sighs.
Kathy: Me either, to be honest. I don't think I did anything wrong.
Jason scoots a little closer to Kathy and reassuringly takes her hand.
Jason: You didn't. None of this is your fault, Kathy..
Kathy finishes off her wine and sets it aside, enjoying the slight buzz it gives her.
Jason: Are you sure you're alright?
Kathy: Why wouldn't I be?
Jason: Oh I don't know. Your husband just kissed another woman on live TV last week...you're allowed to be a little upset, you know.
Kathy: They're just stupid head games. Wrestlers play them all the time. It's one of the things I hate most about the business.
Jason: I don't know how you do it, Kathy. You truly are a remarkable woman.
Jason's hand moves from grasping hers, to clasping her bare knee. Kathy notices this, but doesn't stop him.
Jason: So beautiful. So strong. Jake really doesn't deserve you. He has no idea what he's risking by gallavanting around with She-Hulk...
Kathy giggles. It had been a while since Jake had given her this much undivided attention, so she indulged herself, just a little.
Jason brushed Kathy's hair to one side as he held her gaze, he then leant forward and slowly, softly, kissed her. For a moment, she felt tempted as she tasted his lips, her senses trying to screen out the stench of booze in order to enjoy this moment, but her sense of loyalty would not be lied to. She flinched, pulled away and slapped Jason hard across the face.
Kathy: How dare you?
Jason: You're right, I totally deserved that. I'm sorry...
Kathy: I think you should leave...now. Go for a walk. Give me your car keys, wouldn't want you doing anything stupid.
Jason: Again...
Jason gets up and fishes his car keys out of his jean pocket and stumbles his way to the door, clutching a bottle of beer on his way out. At the door, he tosses his car keys at his sister-in-law. She catches them and places them on the table infront of her.
Jason: Thanks, Kay, I needed that.
Kathy touches her lips with the tip of her forefinger as Jason leaves and finally she realised that it was not so simple and straightforward to resist somebody's affections, kind words and gestures. She finally understood the urges her husband must be fighting with Emma, and in that she found a deeper respect for him. A stray kiss meant nothing. A stray dog meant everything....
And Jake Conway had not strayed in five years.
She refused to let her faith in him be broken now.
Not now when her own strength and will had just been tested.
How little you know.
And yet how much you presume to know.
Your naivety really is quite sweet, it must be why your dear Mister Nate loves you so. Strictly as a brother of course. Nobody could ever find the mentally unstable particularly sexually attractive, could they? Good lord no. If I was Freya Davis I would tell you that you need to get your petally little ass laid and be done with it, but I am not quite so crass, besides if Nathan has no interest in your little barely bloomed buds, then I don't think any other man on the roster would either. Maybe its because you address the world like a four year old girl rather than a fully grown woman...and to think, some men call me retarded. Maybe, the problem really isn't with you, after all, maybe its with him. The amount of times he has a little white stick hanging unceremoniously out of his mouth, I have to wonder just what else he likes to smoke.
I've never found he stench of coffee and cigarettes particularly arousing anyway, but now that we've obligatorily insulted the men we love in each other's lives for two minutes like the whooping 18-35 male demographic who tunes in to watch us every week expects us to, I trust we can move on, and get down to the real business at hand. Can we? Good. You see, whilst I know what our viewing audience expects from us this week and I've fulfilled that expectation within the first couple of minutes of my alloted airtime, frankly I expected so much more from you than I've already gotten...I still do infact.
The fact is Rose, as much as you may not like to admit it on camera, you should be bowing down to me right now. You should be kissing my boots and thanking me for the opportunities I've given you over the last few weeks. It isn't a matter of breaking wills here, if it were I'd be a great lumbering bald-headed bastard Australian ex convict who prefers the company of men while he sits locked away in his little room, unable to let go of the past that so clearly defines him. This isn't The Church of Thor, even if you should worship me as your Goddess, your salvation. This isn't about breaking your faith, your will or your world, Rose, it never was.
What this is about is proving a point. Not to my husband. Not to Emma. Not to Callie. But to you Rose. You see for months and months now you've been lead around like a little bitch on a leash, by none other than your surrogate brother, your beloved Mr Nate. I've already told you he doesn't regard you as a real woman, and why should he when you've been so damned subsurviant to him the entire time that you have been here in New Championship Wrestling? At this point, Nathan Webb has little more than a third dog in his household, just another loyal puppy who will follow him around with absolutely no mind or will of her own.
You're so damned desperate to please him that you'll routinely talk yourself into fights you cannot win. Just like dear ol' Mr Nate. He wants to wage a war against the Corporate Office, so you do too. He wants to kick Adam Knite in the head, you're right there behind him waiting to kick him in the balls. You're the kind of person who if Nathan hurled himself off of a cliff to his certain death, you would yell...."Hey, Mr Nate, wait for me!" You see Rose, I couldn't break your will even if I wanted to, because generous Mr Nate already has. Your utter devotion to him would be touching if it weren't all so frightfully sad.
Why are you so dependant on him, Rose?
Why do you so desperately seek his approval?
Why can't you stand on your own?
Aren't you sick of being coddled by him? Aren't you tired of being treated like a child? Wouldn't your time, and therefore your career be better spent realising your own desires? Fulfilling your own dreams? Having your own ambitions? What are they Rose? What are they really? Go on, you can tell me, tell me and maybe I can make them happen for you...you already know that if I so choose it is well within my power to make you a real Starlet. I want to spark that change in you Rose, I want to be the catalyst for your metamorphosis. As much as Mr Nate loves you, he seeks only to keep his pretty little butterfly in a jar of chloroform. He has stifled your true potential ever since you followed him here from the looney bin for whatever reason. You serve no real purpose to him other than to be the eye candy he keeps around in the background so people at least pay attention to something other than the tragically recycled threats of bringing down the man.
Look at how much I've already done for you, Rose. Because of me people are starting to notice you again. Because of me people have gone from saying "Hey look, its that girl who hangs around with Webb," to "Hey look, its the girl who hangs around with Webb....her name is Rose, I think." As much as you may disagree with my methods personally, Rose, you cannot deny that they work. They get you noticed. After all, isn't that what you wanted, Rose? It's what Mr Nate wants. Just a little attention from the important people in NCW, you know the people who actually matter. You want that too don't you, Rose? Let's face it you haven't had this many people talking about Rose Acantha since Amy Marshall broke your arm. You wanted the spotlight so badly. I just gave it to you.
Be thankful that I've only had it thrust upon you rather than thrown you through it like my husband did to Nathan a year ago, and with the rules of our match being what they are Rose, you'd do well to remember the X stands for Xtreme and not tempt me this Sunday. I've made you relevant again, I've taken you from your role as a glorified extra to potential future star, I've done more for you in three weeks than you have in months, and this is the thanks I get? I've put you up against some of the best women in the business and you still think this is all about me? That this is all some convoluted plot to get back at my husband for straying a little further than he should? You only see yourself as the victim here, because that's all you've ever been. That's all you've ever known.
You're not married so I wouldn't expect you to understand, but trust me girl, if all this was just a plot to vent my frustrations at my husband, there are so many easier ways I could have done it. If all I really wanted was to teach my husband a lesson and remind him of the solemn vows he made to me five years ago, I'd do it not by using you as a scapegoat but rather by introducing his genitals to a rusty pair of scissors. You see its incredibly easy to get a man to listen to you when you have him by the balls - and that's ultimately what I want you to do Rose. Grab Mr Nate, and your life, by the balls and tell him this is your last fight. That there will be no more corporate warfare for you. If he wants to kill himself, let him, there's no sense in your career dying too.
I want you to break Rose. I want you to snap. I want to you to give in. I want you to give up. I want you to submit...and I will help you to do just that, this Sunday, with or without Emma Danielson by my side...and I shall do all this...
Not for me.
But for you.
I will set you free Rose because nobody else cares enough about you to do it.
Nobody.
Not even Mr Nate.
The scene opens with Kathleen Conway sat in her luxuriously extravagant family home, with her brother-in-law Jason, on the way home from the courthouse, Jason had picked up two six packs of bottled beer and was already on his second bottle. Kathy swirled her half-empty glass of red wine as she looked at her wristwatch, frustrated that Emma and Jake had not gotten back yet.
Kathy: Thanks for the lift home.
Jason burped, and laughed, clearly intoxicated.
Jason: Beg your pardon. Excuse me. It was the least I could do.
Kathy smiled.
Jason: I can't believe he just left you there and went off with Emma...
Kathy sighs.
Kathy: Me either, to be honest. I don't think I did anything wrong.
Jason scoots a little closer to Kathy and reassuringly takes her hand.
Jason: You didn't. None of this is your fault, Kathy..
Kathy finishes off her wine and sets it aside, enjoying the slight buzz it gives her.
Jason: Are you sure you're alright?
Kathy: Why wouldn't I be?
Jason: Oh I don't know. Your husband just kissed another woman on live TV last week...you're allowed to be a little upset, you know.
Kathy: They're just stupid head games. Wrestlers play them all the time. It's one of the things I hate most about the business.
Jason: I don't know how you do it, Kathy. You truly are a remarkable woman.
Jason's hand moves from grasping hers, to clasping her bare knee. Kathy notices this, but doesn't stop him.
Jason: So beautiful. So strong. Jake really doesn't deserve you. He has no idea what he's risking by gallavanting around with She-Hulk...
Kathy giggles. It had been a while since Jake had given her this much undivided attention, so she indulged herself, just a little.
Jason brushed Kathy's hair to one side as he held her gaze, he then leant forward and slowly, softly, kissed her. For a moment, she felt tempted as she tasted his lips, her senses trying to screen out the stench of booze in order to enjoy this moment, but her sense of loyalty would not be lied to. She flinched, pulled away and slapped Jason hard across the face.
Kathy: How dare you?
Jason: You're right, I totally deserved that. I'm sorry...
Kathy: I think you should leave...now. Go for a walk. Give me your car keys, wouldn't want you doing anything stupid.
Jason: Again...
Jason gets up and fishes his car keys out of his jean pocket and stumbles his way to the door, clutching a bottle of beer on his way out. At the door, he tosses his car keys at his sister-in-law. She catches them and places them on the table infront of her.
Jason: Thanks, Kay, I needed that.
Kathy touches her lips with the tip of her forefinger as Jason leaves and finally she realised that it was not so simple and straightforward to resist somebody's affections, kind words and gestures. She finally understood the urges her husband must be fighting with Emma, and in that she found a deeper respect for him. A stray kiss meant nothing. A stray dog meant everything....
And Jake Conway had not strayed in five years.
She refused to let her faith in him be broken now.
Not now when her own strength and will had just been tested.