Post by doa on Sept 26, 2012 8:28:46 GMT -5
I slammed my elbow into the little guys face and he fell into the men and women that surrounded the pit. I spun back around and got shoved backwards by another oncoming pit kid. I got slingshot forward by the kids I feel into and came dancing with that power and slammed my back into another pitter. The music was fast and loud; just the way I like it. And thing is …this is my typical night. Me and my own, we go to a shitty club with a shitty punk band (and let’s face it when it comes to punk rock, the band is either shitty or they sell out these days) playing and we dance and beat the shit out of each other. As I continued to dance my way through the circle, slamming my elbows into people I came to realization that while this might be violence, this was also unity. This was family. None of this was out of hate or spite, but out of sharing a philosophy and a lifestyle. It was nothing like what my debut match on the debut show of Tuesday Night Takedown is going to be. That is not going to be pretty …but it will still be fun.
Because that is one thing that I don’t think Jayde Brookly really understands …okay, she doesn’t understand a whole lot …but she doesn’t understand that THIS is my life. The violence, the fighting, the pissing people off, and the fighting against anything anybody says. With her I get this feeling of WANTING. She wants to be a bad ass. She wants to be sexy. She wants to be a sadist. But it all just seemed forced in my opinion. And the end result is that she comes off sounding like a child talking about what she wants to be when she grows up. Her blind mentality and values make her seem lost in this world of guys and girls who know who they are and what they want. To me it seems that she WANTS to know who she is and is completely denying it. And while I do feel bad that I am going to have to leave her battered and bruised, I will show her the difference between wanting and BEING.
These thoughts went through my head as I knocked a guy around and then put my arm on his shoulder, we locked up and together we catapulted we each other into the others, knocking them all down. We released and I tackled a big guy with a Mohawk towards the tile floor of the venue. Several of the guys in the pit stopped to help us back up and tossed me to the other side of the pit. See what I was saying about family? See what I was saying about lifestyle? This family and lifestyle felt more real to me than the Mormon family and lifestyle. When you’ve gone from a world of order to a world of disorder and realize the world of disorder makes more sense to you …then you begin to have an understanding of yourself. I believed that this was an understanding that Jayde Brooklyn had been lacking.
Maybe me showing her the freeing power of pain would help her grow up a little bit and see this world as I see it: a bunch of bullshit. Maybe it won’t. Maybe I’ll beat her and she’ll quit like her friend Athena did from this other company the moment she lost a match if the dirtsheets are true. I hoped that she had a little more fortitude and confidence than that. But as I was exiting the mosh pit to grab another beer I did realize that I was dealing with an opponent who I believed had a mentality of a child …who knows how she would act? And I really didn’t care. When that bell rang, it would be the headlining act and the mosh pit would begin and what happened to her after the match was absolutely none of my concern. We were going to be wrecked but I was going to be the one walking out on her own two feet.
I pushed and shoved my way past the show kids that were rushing to the stage and the mosh pit towards the bar. On my way there my ass got grabbed like five times. Maybe it was a side effect of my strict upbringing but ever since I left the commune, I got off on that kind of attention from guys and girls. Most normal girls would get all huffy and offended but I didn’t mind at all. Fuck, I dressed like a prostitute clown, what did I expect? Girls like us never went into this scene because we wanted respect. We did it because it freed us from the constraints of a society lost in its own ignorance and hyperbole. And having a free conscious left us open to things that a conservative society would like beating a skin head with a baseball bat, pissing on cop cars, hooking up with members of the same sex, multiple partners, and jerking off guys in public. Those social taboos were completely social norms for us. Sure, SOCIETY would try to punish us for thinking like that …but just like everything, we didn’t care. I shoved a few “girlfriends” (stodgy normally dressed women who were clearly dragged there by their boyfriends). They tried getting in my face and calling me stuff like “bitch” but again, I just didn’t care.
As I headed towards the bar, I began to unzip the pockets on my bondage pants. I pulled out a five dollar bill. I wasn’t going to tip this asshole bartender …because …well, I hated being told that tipping was something we were supposed to do or that it was common courtesy. I was an indy wrestler before this point and didn’t have much cash. But, of course, I only used currency when there was no possible way to steal it. Money was another chain government put on us to keep tabs and have some leverage on American residents. At the bar was a big man with green liberty spikes and a beard that extended to his chest. He had tattoos all over his arms and his face had piercings all over them. He was a bit fat as well. I took a seat next to him at the bar and pulled my pack of cigarettes out of my zippered pockets and lit up. He looked at me with drunken eyes.
Fat man: You are that wrestling bitch aren’t you?
I blew smoke in his face and chuckled with a saucy expression on my face.
Calista Vandal: I actually like the sound of that. It should be my call name or something. Calista “That Wrestling Bitch” Vandal. Thanks for the suggestion Porkins.
He then moved closer towards me while leaning on the bar. He didn’t look too happy that I made light of his weight.
Fat man: What makes you think that a little girl like you can wrestle man?
I rolled my eyes at him as a took another drag of my cigarette.
Calista “That Wrestling Bitch” Vandal: Uh …I don’t know …maybe the fact that I wrestle men?
He got even closer to me as the bartender finally made her way towards me. She didn’t smile at me …the bartenders here never did …probably because they never got tipped.
Bartender: What do you want?
Calista “That Wrestling Bitch” Vandal: Just toss me a Pabst.
I slammed the five dollars on the table as I realized that the drunk fat man was still lingering over me.
Fat man: I think it is shitty that wrestle men. Women can’t beat men.
The bartender handed me the Pabst and a snapped it open and took a chug before I turned back to the drunken fat man.
Calista “That Wrestling Bitch” Vandal: Cool story bro!
He shoved me making me spill my beer a little bit.
Fat man: In fact, I think I can kick your ass right here.
I put my hand right in front of him and began to chuckle.
Calista “That Wrestling Bitch” Vandal: You know, I see what you are doing here but you do realize that this is how all female wrestling promos go right? Of course, you see the cameras right?
He looked towards the cameras that were following me around.
Calista “That Wrestling Bitch” Vandal: I order a drink. You start shit with me …and being the tough bad ass that I am, I kick your ass to prove that I am woman, hear me roar or something. So you are playing into a cliché.
He looked at the cameras, still a bit confused, and then he looked back at me.
Fat man: I don’t care bitch. Why don’t you step up?
I turned around and leaned on the bar casually as he seethed at me.
Calista “That Wrestling Bitch” Vandal: Because you know who I am. You saw the wrestling tapes. You know that I can beat men twice my size …and plus, we are at a punk bar at a punk show. I was in that pit all night. If you really wanted to take me out or see if you could kick my ass you would of. And I’m going back in there …so if you REALLY want to step up and take out “That Wrestling Bitch” then you’d follow me in there right now. Until you do that, you can shut the fuck up.
I chugged the beer and slammed it over my forehead. I continued to smoke my cigarette and walked back towards the pit. I then looked back at him.
Calista “That Wrestling Bitch” Vandal: I’ll see you in there.
I then turned my back towards him and headed into the crowd and into the pit. I immediately slammed another kid to the ground and that was where I was at for the rest of the night. Funny, that fat man never showed his face in there and once the show was over, he wasn’t in sight. I guess he went to go harass some other female wrestler in some other wrestling promo.
-------
-------
Calista Vandal: Jayde, Jayde, Jayde …JAYDE!
Calista was sitting on a lawn chair on one of her friends rooftops drinking a Pabst Blue Ribbon and was seemingly laughing out loud. She was wearing a “The Unseen” t-shirt, a pair of ripped up jeans and a green converse on her left foot and a red converse on her right foot. About seven of her friends were behind her as she began to play towards the cameras with her bright yellow lined sunglasses.
Calista Vandal: Labels are destroying society. And you using labels is even worse. So… let me get this straight.
She leaned towards the camera as she pulled her sunglasses down.
Calista Vandal: I tell you that you are hot and wouldn’t mind poking around you and in a matter of like what? Minutes? In a short period of time you go from being straight to contemplating lesbianism to being in a straight up lesbian relationship? Well, you are just a fickle little thing aren’t you? But the most distressful thing is I was just talking about fucking. Fucking has nothing to do with orientation. Fucking is fucking. If your hot, it doesn’t matter your race or gender …I’m probably down. But you make doing that into something so … so …so
She leaned backward in her chair and raised her arms up in frustration.
Calista Vandal: …dorky. That’s right. You made the number one turn on for men just dorky. Again, your hot …you can’t deny that. But that doesn’t really matter because when you open your mouth or do ANYTHING you come off like a complete goober. Even worse, you come off desperate for attention. In this world you demand attention, you don’t go begging for it.
She grabbed her can from the cup holder and took another swig.
Calista Vandal: As you begin your desperate pleas for people to love and take you seriously, you don’t realize that you make yourself even dorkier by hiding behind a label such as “lesbian” or “straight.” I told you. Those things are lies. Labels are lies. You like fucking guys …your human. You like fucking girls …your still human. You like fucking both …again, your still human. But no, you have to go and give people who love to experiment with different levels of kink a bad name by shooting your label to mountain tops and making sure the cameras get you and what is apparently your coward of a girlfriend on screen. Years ago, there was an actress named Ellen. She had a popular sitcom. It did so well in the ratings …but then she decided to come out on television. All well and good right? Well, it was until she started dating a lady named Anne Hache. This lady MILKED the lesbian thing and used it as a promotion to get herself famous. She used this label to gain fame. And once she got the fame that she desired. Once she starred in a terrible Harrison Ford film. She denounced it. Jayde, my little princess, you are Anne Hache.
She then leaned forward towards the cameras again and smiled a gleefully mischievous smile.
Calista Vandal: What I am saying her is this:
She paused for a moment to make sure there was silence. And then she spoke.
Calista Vandal: You are a phony. You are a fraud. You are a poser. Before hand this was just about hurting you because it feels good and it is something I enjoy doing. A hobby if you will. But now I want to kick your ass because you are so obviously doing and saying things so we will believe you aren’t just a big dork. You talk a big game. You make idle threats. You say you are this. You say you are that. But by the way you talk, I know that when you enter that ring, that you are going to be lost in there. You are going to be a scared little dork who won’t know what to do with someone who isn’t bound by rules or codes of conduct. You will be stuck in there with someone who isn’t desperate, but instead someone who demands. And most importantly, you’ll be in there with someone who gets off on hurting people. But in this case, I think when we are done, you are going to give me a multiple O in that ring.
She paused again and grabbed her beer once more. She chugged it all down and then threw it off the roof.
Calista Vandal: So, I’ll tell you this once more. I know AFTER we are done that you are going to do this because you were bested and just can’t live with yourself …instead of trying to train yourself to be better in the ring. But, I’d heed the warning this time.
She gave a smart ass smirk to camera before pulling her sunglasses back up.
Calista Vandal: Run, Bitch, Run! You aren’t *ready for what I have planned for you on Thursday. /You aren’t going to be able to deal with how I violate in front of the audience in attendance. You just aren’t ready for this. And if the company you keep is any indication, then you are just going to give up the minute things don’t go your way anyways …so you might as well just give up now. Because, again, your ignorance, your stupidity, and your phoniness is just going to make this a much worse experience for you.
She stood up and looked towards the camera.
Calista Vandal: Because you are right. I am crazy. At least when that bell rings or I hear the right song, I AM absolutely nuts. But apparently not as crazy as you are for trying to be this THING that you are not and thinking that I will let you get away with it. You should know by now that I hate the fake-ness of this society and you seem to be a product of all of that. In fact, that seems to be the only thing tangible personality trait about you. Put two and two together and you’ll figure out exactly how much that angers a girl like me …and just how bad this is going to get for you.
She pulled her sunglasses off and stared at the camera with a stern look on her face.
Calista Vandal: So put those Nikes on, get into that convertible with your “Ellen,” and get the fuck out this business. You don’t belong here. It’ll just be easier on you in the long run.
She finished up as once again, her little group of friends began to clap for her as she sat back down on the lawn chair. But she sat on it not like a lawn chair but as if it were her thrown and she was queen of that roof top. She flipped off the camera as a little parting gift to Jayde Brooklyn as the camera faded out.
Because that is one thing that I don’t think Jayde Brookly really understands …okay, she doesn’t understand a whole lot …but she doesn’t understand that THIS is my life. The violence, the fighting, the pissing people off, and the fighting against anything anybody says. With her I get this feeling of WANTING. She wants to be a bad ass. She wants to be sexy. She wants to be a sadist. But it all just seemed forced in my opinion. And the end result is that she comes off sounding like a child talking about what she wants to be when she grows up. Her blind mentality and values make her seem lost in this world of guys and girls who know who they are and what they want. To me it seems that she WANTS to know who she is and is completely denying it. And while I do feel bad that I am going to have to leave her battered and bruised, I will show her the difference between wanting and BEING.
These thoughts went through my head as I knocked a guy around and then put my arm on his shoulder, we locked up and together we catapulted we each other into the others, knocking them all down. We released and I tackled a big guy with a Mohawk towards the tile floor of the venue. Several of the guys in the pit stopped to help us back up and tossed me to the other side of the pit. See what I was saying about family? See what I was saying about lifestyle? This family and lifestyle felt more real to me than the Mormon family and lifestyle. When you’ve gone from a world of order to a world of disorder and realize the world of disorder makes more sense to you …then you begin to have an understanding of yourself. I believed that this was an understanding that Jayde Brooklyn had been lacking.
Maybe me showing her the freeing power of pain would help her grow up a little bit and see this world as I see it: a bunch of bullshit. Maybe it won’t. Maybe I’ll beat her and she’ll quit like her friend Athena did from this other company the moment she lost a match if the dirtsheets are true. I hoped that she had a little more fortitude and confidence than that. But as I was exiting the mosh pit to grab another beer I did realize that I was dealing with an opponent who I believed had a mentality of a child …who knows how she would act? And I really didn’t care. When that bell rang, it would be the headlining act and the mosh pit would begin and what happened to her after the match was absolutely none of my concern. We were going to be wrecked but I was going to be the one walking out on her own two feet.
I pushed and shoved my way past the show kids that were rushing to the stage and the mosh pit towards the bar. On my way there my ass got grabbed like five times. Maybe it was a side effect of my strict upbringing but ever since I left the commune, I got off on that kind of attention from guys and girls. Most normal girls would get all huffy and offended but I didn’t mind at all. Fuck, I dressed like a prostitute clown, what did I expect? Girls like us never went into this scene because we wanted respect. We did it because it freed us from the constraints of a society lost in its own ignorance and hyperbole. And having a free conscious left us open to things that a conservative society would like beating a skin head with a baseball bat, pissing on cop cars, hooking up with members of the same sex, multiple partners, and jerking off guys in public. Those social taboos were completely social norms for us. Sure, SOCIETY would try to punish us for thinking like that …but just like everything, we didn’t care. I shoved a few “girlfriends” (stodgy normally dressed women who were clearly dragged there by their boyfriends). They tried getting in my face and calling me stuff like “bitch” but again, I just didn’t care.
As I headed towards the bar, I began to unzip the pockets on my bondage pants. I pulled out a five dollar bill. I wasn’t going to tip this asshole bartender …because …well, I hated being told that tipping was something we were supposed to do or that it was common courtesy. I was an indy wrestler before this point and didn’t have much cash. But, of course, I only used currency when there was no possible way to steal it. Money was another chain government put on us to keep tabs and have some leverage on American residents. At the bar was a big man with green liberty spikes and a beard that extended to his chest. He had tattoos all over his arms and his face had piercings all over them. He was a bit fat as well. I took a seat next to him at the bar and pulled my pack of cigarettes out of my zippered pockets and lit up. He looked at me with drunken eyes.
Fat man: You are that wrestling bitch aren’t you?
I blew smoke in his face and chuckled with a saucy expression on my face.
Calista Vandal: I actually like the sound of that. It should be my call name or something. Calista “That Wrestling Bitch” Vandal. Thanks for the suggestion Porkins.
He then moved closer towards me while leaning on the bar. He didn’t look too happy that I made light of his weight.
Fat man: What makes you think that a little girl like you can wrestle man?
I rolled my eyes at him as a took another drag of my cigarette.
Calista “That Wrestling Bitch” Vandal: Uh …I don’t know …maybe the fact that I wrestle men?
He got even closer to me as the bartender finally made her way towards me. She didn’t smile at me …the bartenders here never did …probably because they never got tipped.
Bartender: What do you want?
Calista “That Wrestling Bitch” Vandal: Just toss me a Pabst.
I slammed the five dollars on the table as I realized that the drunk fat man was still lingering over me.
Fat man: I think it is shitty that wrestle men. Women can’t beat men.
The bartender handed me the Pabst and a snapped it open and took a chug before I turned back to the drunken fat man.
Calista “That Wrestling Bitch” Vandal: Cool story bro!
He shoved me making me spill my beer a little bit.
Fat man: In fact, I think I can kick your ass right here.
I put my hand right in front of him and began to chuckle.
Calista “That Wrestling Bitch” Vandal: You know, I see what you are doing here but you do realize that this is how all female wrestling promos go right? Of course, you see the cameras right?
He looked towards the cameras that were following me around.
Calista “That Wrestling Bitch” Vandal: I order a drink. You start shit with me …and being the tough bad ass that I am, I kick your ass to prove that I am woman, hear me roar or something. So you are playing into a cliché.
He looked at the cameras, still a bit confused, and then he looked back at me.
Fat man: I don’t care bitch. Why don’t you step up?
I turned around and leaned on the bar casually as he seethed at me.
Calista “That Wrestling Bitch” Vandal: Because you know who I am. You saw the wrestling tapes. You know that I can beat men twice my size …and plus, we are at a punk bar at a punk show. I was in that pit all night. If you really wanted to take me out or see if you could kick my ass you would of. And I’m going back in there …so if you REALLY want to step up and take out “That Wrestling Bitch” then you’d follow me in there right now. Until you do that, you can shut the fuck up.
I chugged the beer and slammed it over my forehead. I continued to smoke my cigarette and walked back towards the pit. I then looked back at him.
Calista “That Wrestling Bitch” Vandal: I’ll see you in there.
I then turned my back towards him and headed into the crowd and into the pit. I immediately slammed another kid to the ground and that was where I was at for the rest of the night. Funny, that fat man never showed his face in there and once the show was over, he wasn’t in sight. I guess he went to go harass some other female wrestler in some other wrestling promo.
-------
-------
Calista Vandal: Jayde, Jayde, Jayde …JAYDE!
Calista was sitting on a lawn chair on one of her friends rooftops drinking a Pabst Blue Ribbon and was seemingly laughing out loud. She was wearing a “The Unseen” t-shirt, a pair of ripped up jeans and a green converse on her left foot and a red converse on her right foot. About seven of her friends were behind her as she began to play towards the cameras with her bright yellow lined sunglasses.
Calista Vandal: Labels are destroying society. And you using labels is even worse. So… let me get this straight.
She leaned towards the camera as she pulled her sunglasses down.
Calista Vandal: I tell you that you are hot and wouldn’t mind poking around you and in a matter of like what? Minutes? In a short period of time you go from being straight to contemplating lesbianism to being in a straight up lesbian relationship? Well, you are just a fickle little thing aren’t you? But the most distressful thing is I was just talking about fucking. Fucking has nothing to do with orientation. Fucking is fucking. If your hot, it doesn’t matter your race or gender …I’m probably down. But you make doing that into something so … so …so
She leaned backward in her chair and raised her arms up in frustration.
Calista Vandal: …dorky. That’s right. You made the number one turn on for men just dorky. Again, your hot …you can’t deny that. But that doesn’t really matter because when you open your mouth or do ANYTHING you come off like a complete goober. Even worse, you come off desperate for attention. In this world you demand attention, you don’t go begging for it.
She grabbed her can from the cup holder and took another swig.
Calista Vandal: As you begin your desperate pleas for people to love and take you seriously, you don’t realize that you make yourself even dorkier by hiding behind a label such as “lesbian” or “straight.” I told you. Those things are lies. Labels are lies. You like fucking guys …your human. You like fucking girls …your still human. You like fucking both …again, your still human. But no, you have to go and give people who love to experiment with different levels of kink a bad name by shooting your label to mountain tops and making sure the cameras get you and what is apparently your coward of a girlfriend on screen. Years ago, there was an actress named Ellen. She had a popular sitcom. It did so well in the ratings …but then she decided to come out on television. All well and good right? Well, it was until she started dating a lady named Anne Hache. This lady MILKED the lesbian thing and used it as a promotion to get herself famous. She used this label to gain fame. And once she got the fame that she desired. Once she starred in a terrible Harrison Ford film. She denounced it. Jayde, my little princess, you are Anne Hache.
She then leaned forward towards the cameras again and smiled a gleefully mischievous smile.
Calista Vandal: What I am saying her is this:
She paused for a moment to make sure there was silence. And then she spoke.
Calista Vandal: You are a phony. You are a fraud. You are a poser. Before hand this was just about hurting you because it feels good and it is something I enjoy doing. A hobby if you will. But now I want to kick your ass because you are so obviously doing and saying things so we will believe you aren’t just a big dork. You talk a big game. You make idle threats. You say you are this. You say you are that. But by the way you talk, I know that when you enter that ring, that you are going to be lost in there. You are going to be a scared little dork who won’t know what to do with someone who isn’t bound by rules or codes of conduct. You will be stuck in there with someone who isn’t desperate, but instead someone who demands. And most importantly, you’ll be in there with someone who gets off on hurting people. But in this case, I think when we are done, you are going to give me a multiple O in that ring.
She paused again and grabbed her beer once more. She chugged it all down and then threw it off the roof.
Calista Vandal: So, I’ll tell you this once more. I know AFTER we are done that you are going to do this because you were bested and just can’t live with yourself …instead of trying to train yourself to be better in the ring. But, I’d heed the warning this time.
She gave a smart ass smirk to camera before pulling her sunglasses back up.
Calista Vandal: Run, Bitch, Run! You aren’t *ready for what I have planned for you on Thursday. /You aren’t going to be able to deal with how I violate in front of the audience in attendance. You just aren’t ready for this. And if the company you keep is any indication, then you are just going to give up the minute things don’t go your way anyways …so you might as well just give up now. Because, again, your ignorance, your stupidity, and your phoniness is just going to make this a much worse experience for you.
She stood up and looked towards the camera.
Calista Vandal: Because you are right. I am crazy. At least when that bell rings or I hear the right song, I AM absolutely nuts. But apparently not as crazy as you are for trying to be this THING that you are not and thinking that I will let you get away with it. You should know by now that I hate the fake-ness of this society and you seem to be a product of all of that. In fact, that seems to be the only thing tangible personality trait about you. Put two and two together and you’ll figure out exactly how much that angers a girl like me …and just how bad this is going to get for you.
She pulled her sunglasses off and stared at the camera with a stern look on her face.
Calista Vandal: So put those Nikes on, get into that convertible with your “Ellen,” and get the fuck out this business. You don’t belong here. It’ll just be easier on you in the long run.
She finished up as once again, her little group of friends began to clap for her as she sat back down on the lawn chair. But she sat on it not like a lawn chair but as if it were her thrown and she was queen of that roof top. She flipped off the camera as a little parting gift to Jayde Brooklyn as the camera faded out.