Post by doa on Oct 1, 2012 14:35:39 GMT -5
Thank flying spaghetti monster that I don’t have a cellphone or any internet capabilities because when I got to the motel I was staying at, apparently I had at fifteen different people try to contact me via phone before I got back from TNT. And at the actual show I had several people who claimed to be journalists ask me questions. They were spouting some shit about the rankings MPW listed on their website once the show went off the air. They talked about it being shocking number one ranking …and they questioned if I deserved. They asked me if I really thought I put on a five star wrestling match that deserved such high praise. They asked me how I felt about out ranking the two headliners of Thursday Night Takedown and the current Sin City champion. I had no fucking idea what they were talking about …nor did I care. What I cared about was hurting Jayde Brooklyn, The Knoxville Knockout …and I indeed got the job done there. Anything that came afterwards was someone else’s opinion …and some corporate big wig or TNT General Madkat’s opinions mean even less. If they wanted to praise me and hold me as some kind of wrestling wunderkind, that was their choice and their opinion and I wasn’t going to stop them. I just didn’t want to be assed with questions about my thoughts towards it when I was really just doing what I got in this game to do: beat the shit out of jaded egomaniacs that chose to be cogs in a system. I wasn’t going to live by what some website said my worth was. But my only thought was when I heard about it was that the brass saw more worth in a girl who wasn’t trying for accolades or achievements to be the best but just wanted to sate her own appetite for destruction than the top billed guys who supposedly lived for the glory that came with the sport.
But when I got back to my motel room early Friday morning, the clerk let me know of all of my messages from several different sources. I told him to throw all of that away. Again, I was very thankful that I didn’t have a cellphone or ever went on the internet because they would have been calling and texting me there and blowing up my Facebook page. No, I was never going to own those things either. Not just because I believed that I was entitled to my privacy and those things are the arch enemy of privacy and peace and quiet, but also because I believed that that was one of the way the government kept tabs on Americans. I wasn’t going to be a part of that conspiracy so I have been living without cell phones for a long time. I wasn’t allowed to have them under my strict household anyways. But I just never saw the point of everyone knowing each other’s business which is what I am assured Facebook and twitter is all about. I was okay with that …but after that first win that apparently shocked everyone, my motel room had become Facebook and Twitter …and over what? I beat the shit out of a goofy ass girl with goofy ass identity problems. It’s not like she actually posed a challenge like I was hoping she would. Nope. It was pretty much exactly what I expected. The only reason I left able to feel her legs was because I found her humorous …one big joke y’know …and I thought watching her promo every week would give me some good laughs. And Jayde did not let me down. I cracked up hysterically when I watched the girl in a matter of minutes go from straight to contemplating being a lesbian to being in a full out lesbian relationship not even a few days later go right back into craving the cock …but she made sure to do this with the hopeless desperation of wanting to feel loved that only Jayde could do. HILARIOUS! Then, after talking about liking girls, goes right on and calls me a lesbian like it is the most disgusting thing in the world even though I’ve already stated that I don’t live under labels and just fuck what I want to fuck. But she couldn’t even fathom that or my beliefs …and again, accused me of being the crazy. Again, that came from the girl that wanted people to play in her box and was a carpet muncher for ten minutes. HI-LARE-RIOUS!!! And that was why I kept her around: she would become my own personal court jester.
My thoughts on that were interrupted by a knock on my door. Jesus, these wrestling magazine folk were persistent. I put my leather jacket on and headed towards the door. I then grabbed my baseball bat that was placed by the door. I looked through the door and saw two figures; one was a male and the other was a female. The female was kind of tall and the male was shorter. I guessed that I would open the door and then cuss them out and threaten them with a baseball bat for bothering me with more press questions. I opened the motel room door and what I beheld were two pretty attractive people. The man was shorter but built pretty good as he was wearing a muscle t-shirt. He had blonde her and blue eyes that most girls would get lost in. I just liked that he was built and I had a sneaking suspicion that he was packing some serious heat under his jeans. He was also carrying a camera which confirmed that they were who I thought they were. The lady that was with him was obviously the reporter. She had dark red hair, glasses and was wearing a short skirt that showed off her legs. Momma like. I put the bat down and came up with a new plan where we’d all get what we wanted.
Lady: Miss Vandal.
I looked at both of them unimpressed and just gestured them in.
Calista Vandal: I know who you are. Come in.
The reporter and her camera man came in following me …I don’t think they knew what night they were in for.
Reporter: I am Nancy Ho…
I did not look behind to answer her. I didn’t give them any regard.
Calista Vandal: I don’t care who you two are or who you are with. Just have a seat and ask your silly little questions.
She took a seat near the bed as the camera man also was about to sit. I looked towards him with serious eyes.
Calista Vandal: Did I tell you that YOU could sit.
He looked at me a little intimidated and gulped for he spoke. That was so cute.
Camera Man: No ma’am.
Calista Vandal: Then you stand and just take pictures. Believe me …you are going to want pictures.
Camera Man: Yes ma’am.
I did not like being called ma’am. He lost points but that was okay because I did find his boyish nature kind of endearing. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was a virgin. The red headed reporter didn’t notice me unhook the studded belt to my bondage pants when she began.
Reporter: Miss Vandal, I just wanted a few words with you about your match tonight and your future with MPW. Many believe that tonight was a break out performance for you and you has good things to come given how you were ranked on MPW’s website and were even given a story on the main site. What are your thoughts towards this and you’re …WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING
Calista Vandal: I’m more comfortable doing this without pants.
I spoke right after my pants hit the floor and I was standing in front of her in my black thong with a skull in front and my Casualties t-shirt. I turned toward the man who just looked shocked and gave him a smile.
Calista Vandal: You may start taking pictures now.
As I turned to the reporter, the camera immediately flickered. I guess he wasn’t as shy as I thought he would be. I turned back towards the reporter and she was not happy.
Reporter: Well, I am not comfortable with this.
My pierced lips smiled at her.
Calista Vandal: I don’t care what you want. You want the story, you play by my rules. Understood?
Reporter: Fine.
I gave a very pleased smile as I heard another flicker of the camera …that pleased me even more.
Calista Vandal: To answer your question, there is no future. There is no future for me. There is no future for you. And there certainly isn’t a future for MPW. What we do have is the present of all of its randomness and false ideals that can easily be thrown away …like you two are about to do. And with no future, there are no goals and achievements to be had. It is all about just having fun with the nothingness that is this life.
The reporter nervously looked away as I pulled off my t-shirt to reveal a fuzzy leopard bra. It was trashy … and there was anything I enjoyed being it was trashy. As she looked away she spoke.
Reporter: Then do you just not care about what the fans think about you because they certainly seemed to be behind tonight.
I answered as I walked up to her and just jumped on her lap with my front facing her front. I began to straddle my legs around her. She, of course, was very uncomfortable.
Calista Vandal: Shhhh … I’m going to answer your question. And the answer is that the fans cheered me because they can see past the bullshit. They know who is real and who isn’t. Jayde wasn’t real and I was. They saw that and sided with the one who wasn’t pandering to what they WANTED to hear. Now, I really don’t care if they want to cheer or boo me …that is their choice. If they choose to cheer for me again, I absolutely don’t mind. But I wouldn’t care if they booed me either. I only worry about my battles, not theirs.
I leaned forward and immediately stuck my tongue in her ear. She tried pulling me off but I was much stronger than her and my legs were like a python around a human’s neck.
Reporter: Miss Vandal … uhhhh …. This is ….oh … this is highly unsavory behavior.
She then giggled as I began to nibble on her ear. Another picture was taken.
Calista Vandal: Come on, you know you like it. Plus, you are getting a scoop that the other wrestling journalists are not. Now shut the fuck and enjoy it …or ask your questions and enjoy it. I’ve already decided what I’m going to do.
I began to move my index finger around her mouth and in a few seconds she was suckling on it like it was her mother’s teet. I looked back at the camera man with excited eyes.
Calista Vandal: You take off your pants but continue to take pictures …you are going to be on standby.
I pulled my finger away and then shoved my tongue down her throat. It took a few seconds but once again she partook. We made out for a minute as I heard the camera drop his pants. At least he was obedient. I pulled away.
Calista Vandal: Now what is your next question?
As she asked, I began to lick and nibble on her neck. I could feel her getting aroused and then I began to hear her get aroused.
Reporter: Mmmmm …hhhhmmmm … OKAY! … Ummmm ….so this at the next Takedown you are facing the lady only known as Hope. What are your thoughts towards her?
I felt her lightly begin to touch breast. I took her hand and squeezed them.
Calista Vandal: It’s okay. You can squeeze them. They’re pierced you know? But to answer your question, Hope’s got a cool back tat and silly eye liner. But I have feeling I am going to be dealing with another clueless girl who has no idea what she is stepping into. When I was told after the show tonight that I would be facing her, I wasn’t surprised. She has a similar look to me and I suppose the corporate part of this business wanted to capitalize on that one fact. Other than that …I can just say that her tits are obviously fake. But what you are grabbing right now are all real. I do a lot with so little. And that is true in the wrestling sense as well. I did it with Jayde and I am going to do it with Hope.
I then started nibbling over her cleavage and grabbed her breasts as well. They were a good size, bigger than mine. I guessed about a C-cup. Good for her. She then slapped my ass pretty hard for a girl who didn’t want to be doing this. It was pretty red the next morning. During this exchange I heard the flicker a few more times. I looked back up at her as I unwrapped my legs, bent backwards and dismounted. I was then on my knees in front of her.
Calista Vandal: Next question.
She looked flustered and forgot the questions she was asking. Her head bent backwards as she spoke.
Reporter: There will be no further questions.
I smiled as I pulled her apart and got down on all fours in front of the camera man. I looked back towards him.
Calista Vandal: You are on Buck-o!
I felt him walk up towards me as I dove right in with my mouth open and my teeth latched onto her underwear, beginning to pull at it. She grabbed my Mohawk tightly pulling it, which I liked very much.
At that moment, I figured that getting praise for one match DID have its perks from time to time.
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------
The scene opened on Calista Vandal sitting in a motel room and just staring at the camera with a cigarette in her mouth. She blew a puff upwards and then focused on the camera.
Calista Vandal: So Hope wants to make me scream? That’s cool.
She paused for a moment and put the cigarette down. This day she was wearing a short plaid bondage skirt and fish nets with a bra with patches tacked onto it with safety pins. She opened her mouth and let out the loudest scream she could possibly muster.
Calista Vandal: AAAAAAHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
She finished, coughed for a moment, and grabbed the cigarette again before continuing.
Calista Vandal: There you go. You heard me scream. And in about ten seconds, I made your entire diatribe meaningless. At least the parts you said about me. The parts about how poor you are and how awful your life is or whatever? I can shit all over that too. But what I really want to focus on at first here …and I think it is the lynchpin of what is bugging me about you right off the bat …you are from England, right? Then why do you talk like an inbred Hillbilly from the Ozark Mountains? I am certainly not expecting you to be refined and polished because that is a stereotype …but you’d just think that you wouldn’t sound like you walked off the set of the Honey Boo Boo show. It’s just weird is all.
She smiled as she knelt down and grabbed a pabst blue ribbon and cracked it open and took a swig.
Calista Vandal: But I don’t really want to talk about you and your idle threat of what you want to hear or any of that bullshit. I want to talk about Millennium Pro Wrestling management and what seems to be a pretty irritating habit already. Madkatt, why do you keep throwing there women who are all talk but no challenge to me? Last week it was Jayde who I proved was just faking her way through things …and now this week, you give me this? Another bitch that is more worried about playing the part of the badass than actually being a badass. Give me a challenge because I am already tired of girls that tell me they are going to cause me pain just because …?
She tilted her head and shrugged at the camera with the beer in one hand and the cigarette in the other. She then broke that pose and continued.
Calista Vandal: No, it doesn’t work that way. Hope, WHY do you want to hurt me? Is it because you are overcompensating for your poverty stricken life or bad relationship with your parents? Is it because you think I stole your look? FYI to you and our management, our looks are two completely different things …mine is a symbol of strife against the mainstream political and social beliefs and norms, a tradition that has been running strong since the 70’s, and your look sprang out of depression, slitting ones wrist, and Robert Smith deciding to wear eye shadow before he went on stage. Do you want to hurt because you just aren’t getting laid a lot? Or do you want to hurt me because it will send a message to the locker room? What is your conviction for wanting to cause so much pain?
She again gave the camera a curious look as if she really didn’t understand her opponent’s motivation. While she didn’t believe in much, she did believe that everyone did things for a reason given their values and believes …be them real or not. So when pressed with the randomness that was Hope’s lack of motivation she was a little perplexed.
Calista Vandal: I already explained my conviction and my philosophy about pain and sex being the only real tangible things in this world and everything else being something we just make up to make us feel real. And really when I hear you talk, I don’t feel any conviction; I just feel what I felt last week: another bitch talking a big game about hurting her opponent to fit in and be yet another “Strong independent sexy woman who kicks ass.” There was nothing new in your statement that I didn’t hear last week from another girl who walked out of the female stereotype cloning machine. And, just like last week, when you talk, all I hear is a lost little girl who is clueless to just how meaningless and random this world is. You’re frightened and you’re terrified of being meaningless in this world and you think taking me down a peg will sate that feeling. Guess what? We are all meaningless; all of this is meaningless. But if you want to put value in how the world views you by hurting me …well, you are more welcome to try. Hell, I am desperate for a challenge but judging by what I know of you, I am going to be left disappointed yet again.
Upset with the fact she knew her match was going to not be as violent or heavily contested as she would have thought, she took another swig of her beer.
Calista Vandal: And you want to talk about Hopelessness for me? That might have been the one thing you were right about. There is no hope for me. But I’m not alone. There is no hope for me, there is no hope for you, and there is no hope for this country or any other for that matter. We are all hopeless …because hope is another thing we make up in our heads to give us some kind of meaning and purpose …which also don’t exist. No one is born better or destined for anything better than anyone else. That is something that you should know all too well, right? You were born a poverty stricken piece of shit and you will die a poverty stricken piece of shit. Nothing is going to change that. Not wins, not gold, NOTHING. Because that lack of hope will always be there; because hope will always be something you reach for but can never grab because it just isn’t there. That isn’t to say I’m any better. I grew up to be forced into believing in a God, I later found out didn’t exist. I was spoon-fed beliefs and theories that were complete tripe. And I, like a fool, believed it. And I reached out for hope like it was actually there too …but then I woke up and realized just how idiotic that was. But I didn’t try to overcompensate by going for gold or glory …no I went for the only reality and that was what we could physically feel. That is pretty damn hopeless don’t you think?
She took a puff of her cigarette and then flicked it into the camera out of frustration.
Calista Vandal: So yeah, I’m hopeless. So are you. So is everyone.
She then finished up her beer and then tossed that towards the camera. Then as she looked back towards it, a stern and serious look appeared on her face.
Calista Vandal: Here is what is going to happen when that bell rings on Thursday. You are going to attack, trying to prove that you are something you are not. You are going to scratch and claw and fight …and I am going to laugh at your desperation while also being let down that TNT General Manager hasn’t handed me someone I could really sink my teeth into as far as someone who can really hurt me. And then when you give up and realize that you are in fact, none of those things you want to be …well, then I’m going to do what I do best: hurt you. And not just in the “I want to hear you scream way.” No, odds are you’ll be screaming pretty early on anyways. No, I will do it because that is what I enjoy and because it will make you realize how hopeless this world is for everyone. It will sober you to the world that all of us are nothing but blood and hormones. And maybe then you’ll find out why I like it that way.
She then stood up and walked towards the camera and bent over like she was going to turn it off. But then she remembered something and tacked on a little cautionary tale for Hope.
Calista Vandal: And you should pray that I find you as funny as Jayde Brooklyn because if I don’t …the odds of watching you carried out on a stretcher are pretty good.
She then blew a kiss while rolling her eyes and shut off the camera.
But when I got back to my motel room early Friday morning, the clerk let me know of all of my messages from several different sources. I told him to throw all of that away. Again, I was very thankful that I didn’t have a cellphone or ever went on the internet because they would have been calling and texting me there and blowing up my Facebook page. No, I was never going to own those things either. Not just because I believed that I was entitled to my privacy and those things are the arch enemy of privacy and peace and quiet, but also because I believed that that was one of the way the government kept tabs on Americans. I wasn’t going to be a part of that conspiracy so I have been living without cell phones for a long time. I wasn’t allowed to have them under my strict household anyways. But I just never saw the point of everyone knowing each other’s business which is what I am assured Facebook and twitter is all about. I was okay with that …but after that first win that apparently shocked everyone, my motel room had become Facebook and Twitter …and over what? I beat the shit out of a goofy ass girl with goofy ass identity problems. It’s not like she actually posed a challenge like I was hoping she would. Nope. It was pretty much exactly what I expected. The only reason I left able to feel her legs was because I found her humorous …one big joke y’know …and I thought watching her promo every week would give me some good laughs. And Jayde did not let me down. I cracked up hysterically when I watched the girl in a matter of minutes go from straight to contemplating being a lesbian to being in a full out lesbian relationship not even a few days later go right back into craving the cock …but she made sure to do this with the hopeless desperation of wanting to feel loved that only Jayde could do. HILARIOUS! Then, after talking about liking girls, goes right on and calls me a lesbian like it is the most disgusting thing in the world even though I’ve already stated that I don’t live under labels and just fuck what I want to fuck. But she couldn’t even fathom that or my beliefs …and again, accused me of being the crazy. Again, that came from the girl that wanted people to play in her box and was a carpet muncher for ten minutes. HI-LARE-RIOUS!!! And that was why I kept her around: she would become my own personal court jester.
My thoughts on that were interrupted by a knock on my door. Jesus, these wrestling magazine folk were persistent. I put my leather jacket on and headed towards the door. I then grabbed my baseball bat that was placed by the door. I looked through the door and saw two figures; one was a male and the other was a female. The female was kind of tall and the male was shorter. I guessed that I would open the door and then cuss them out and threaten them with a baseball bat for bothering me with more press questions. I opened the motel room door and what I beheld were two pretty attractive people. The man was shorter but built pretty good as he was wearing a muscle t-shirt. He had blonde her and blue eyes that most girls would get lost in. I just liked that he was built and I had a sneaking suspicion that he was packing some serious heat under his jeans. He was also carrying a camera which confirmed that they were who I thought they were. The lady that was with him was obviously the reporter. She had dark red hair, glasses and was wearing a short skirt that showed off her legs. Momma like. I put the bat down and came up with a new plan where we’d all get what we wanted.
Lady: Miss Vandal.
I looked at both of them unimpressed and just gestured them in.
Calista Vandal: I know who you are. Come in.
The reporter and her camera man came in following me …I don’t think they knew what night they were in for.
Reporter: I am Nancy Ho…
I did not look behind to answer her. I didn’t give them any regard.
Calista Vandal: I don’t care who you two are or who you are with. Just have a seat and ask your silly little questions.
She took a seat near the bed as the camera man also was about to sit. I looked towards him with serious eyes.
Calista Vandal: Did I tell you that YOU could sit.
He looked at me a little intimidated and gulped for he spoke. That was so cute.
Camera Man: No ma’am.
Calista Vandal: Then you stand and just take pictures. Believe me …you are going to want pictures.
Camera Man: Yes ma’am.
I did not like being called ma’am. He lost points but that was okay because I did find his boyish nature kind of endearing. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was a virgin. The red headed reporter didn’t notice me unhook the studded belt to my bondage pants when she began.
Reporter: Miss Vandal, I just wanted a few words with you about your match tonight and your future with MPW. Many believe that tonight was a break out performance for you and you has good things to come given how you were ranked on MPW’s website and were even given a story on the main site. What are your thoughts towards this and you’re …WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING
Calista Vandal: I’m more comfortable doing this without pants.
I spoke right after my pants hit the floor and I was standing in front of her in my black thong with a skull in front and my Casualties t-shirt. I turned toward the man who just looked shocked and gave him a smile.
Calista Vandal: You may start taking pictures now.
As I turned to the reporter, the camera immediately flickered. I guess he wasn’t as shy as I thought he would be. I turned back towards the reporter and she was not happy.
Reporter: Well, I am not comfortable with this.
My pierced lips smiled at her.
Calista Vandal: I don’t care what you want. You want the story, you play by my rules. Understood?
Reporter: Fine.
I gave a very pleased smile as I heard another flicker of the camera …that pleased me even more.
Calista Vandal: To answer your question, there is no future. There is no future for me. There is no future for you. And there certainly isn’t a future for MPW. What we do have is the present of all of its randomness and false ideals that can easily be thrown away …like you two are about to do. And with no future, there are no goals and achievements to be had. It is all about just having fun with the nothingness that is this life.
The reporter nervously looked away as I pulled off my t-shirt to reveal a fuzzy leopard bra. It was trashy … and there was anything I enjoyed being it was trashy. As she looked away she spoke.
Reporter: Then do you just not care about what the fans think about you because they certainly seemed to be behind tonight.
I answered as I walked up to her and just jumped on her lap with my front facing her front. I began to straddle my legs around her. She, of course, was very uncomfortable.
Calista Vandal: Shhhh … I’m going to answer your question. And the answer is that the fans cheered me because they can see past the bullshit. They know who is real and who isn’t. Jayde wasn’t real and I was. They saw that and sided with the one who wasn’t pandering to what they WANTED to hear. Now, I really don’t care if they want to cheer or boo me …that is their choice. If they choose to cheer for me again, I absolutely don’t mind. But I wouldn’t care if they booed me either. I only worry about my battles, not theirs.
I leaned forward and immediately stuck my tongue in her ear. She tried pulling me off but I was much stronger than her and my legs were like a python around a human’s neck.
Reporter: Miss Vandal … uhhhh …. This is ….oh … this is highly unsavory behavior.
She then giggled as I began to nibble on her ear. Another picture was taken.
Calista Vandal: Come on, you know you like it. Plus, you are getting a scoop that the other wrestling journalists are not. Now shut the fuck and enjoy it …or ask your questions and enjoy it. I’ve already decided what I’m going to do.
I began to move my index finger around her mouth and in a few seconds she was suckling on it like it was her mother’s teet. I looked back at the camera man with excited eyes.
Calista Vandal: You take off your pants but continue to take pictures …you are going to be on standby.
I pulled my finger away and then shoved my tongue down her throat. It took a few seconds but once again she partook. We made out for a minute as I heard the camera drop his pants. At least he was obedient. I pulled away.
Calista Vandal: Now what is your next question?
As she asked, I began to lick and nibble on her neck. I could feel her getting aroused and then I began to hear her get aroused.
Reporter: Mmmmm …hhhhmmmm … OKAY! … Ummmm ….so this at the next Takedown you are facing the lady only known as Hope. What are your thoughts towards her?
I felt her lightly begin to touch breast. I took her hand and squeezed them.
Calista Vandal: It’s okay. You can squeeze them. They’re pierced you know? But to answer your question, Hope’s got a cool back tat and silly eye liner. But I have feeling I am going to be dealing with another clueless girl who has no idea what she is stepping into. When I was told after the show tonight that I would be facing her, I wasn’t surprised. She has a similar look to me and I suppose the corporate part of this business wanted to capitalize on that one fact. Other than that …I can just say that her tits are obviously fake. But what you are grabbing right now are all real. I do a lot with so little. And that is true in the wrestling sense as well. I did it with Jayde and I am going to do it with Hope.
I then started nibbling over her cleavage and grabbed her breasts as well. They were a good size, bigger than mine. I guessed about a C-cup. Good for her. She then slapped my ass pretty hard for a girl who didn’t want to be doing this. It was pretty red the next morning. During this exchange I heard the flicker a few more times. I looked back up at her as I unwrapped my legs, bent backwards and dismounted. I was then on my knees in front of her.
Calista Vandal: Next question.
She looked flustered and forgot the questions she was asking. Her head bent backwards as she spoke.
Reporter: There will be no further questions.
I smiled as I pulled her apart and got down on all fours in front of the camera man. I looked back towards him.
Calista Vandal: You are on Buck-o!
I felt him walk up towards me as I dove right in with my mouth open and my teeth latched onto her underwear, beginning to pull at it. She grabbed my Mohawk tightly pulling it, which I liked very much.
At that moment, I figured that getting praise for one match DID have its perks from time to time.
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The scene opened on Calista Vandal sitting in a motel room and just staring at the camera with a cigarette in her mouth. She blew a puff upwards and then focused on the camera.
Calista Vandal: So Hope wants to make me scream? That’s cool.
She paused for a moment and put the cigarette down. This day she was wearing a short plaid bondage skirt and fish nets with a bra with patches tacked onto it with safety pins. She opened her mouth and let out the loudest scream she could possibly muster.
Calista Vandal: AAAAAAHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
She finished, coughed for a moment, and grabbed the cigarette again before continuing.
Calista Vandal: There you go. You heard me scream. And in about ten seconds, I made your entire diatribe meaningless. At least the parts you said about me. The parts about how poor you are and how awful your life is or whatever? I can shit all over that too. But what I really want to focus on at first here …and I think it is the lynchpin of what is bugging me about you right off the bat …you are from England, right? Then why do you talk like an inbred Hillbilly from the Ozark Mountains? I am certainly not expecting you to be refined and polished because that is a stereotype …but you’d just think that you wouldn’t sound like you walked off the set of the Honey Boo Boo show. It’s just weird is all.
She smiled as she knelt down and grabbed a pabst blue ribbon and cracked it open and took a swig.
Calista Vandal: But I don’t really want to talk about you and your idle threat of what you want to hear or any of that bullshit. I want to talk about Millennium Pro Wrestling management and what seems to be a pretty irritating habit already. Madkatt, why do you keep throwing there women who are all talk but no challenge to me? Last week it was Jayde who I proved was just faking her way through things …and now this week, you give me this? Another bitch that is more worried about playing the part of the badass than actually being a badass. Give me a challenge because I am already tired of girls that tell me they are going to cause me pain just because …?
She tilted her head and shrugged at the camera with the beer in one hand and the cigarette in the other. She then broke that pose and continued.
Calista Vandal: No, it doesn’t work that way. Hope, WHY do you want to hurt me? Is it because you are overcompensating for your poverty stricken life or bad relationship with your parents? Is it because you think I stole your look? FYI to you and our management, our looks are two completely different things …mine is a symbol of strife against the mainstream political and social beliefs and norms, a tradition that has been running strong since the 70’s, and your look sprang out of depression, slitting ones wrist, and Robert Smith deciding to wear eye shadow before he went on stage. Do you want to hurt because you just aren’t getting laid a lot? Or do you want to hurt me because it will send a message to the locker room? What is your conviction for wanting to cause so much pain?
She again gave the camera a curious look as if she really didn’t understand her opponent’s motivation. While she didn’t believe in much, she did believe that everyone did things for a reason given their values and believes …be them real or not. So when pressed with the randomness that was Hope’s lack of motivation she was a little perplexed.
Calista Vandal: I already explained my conviction and my philosophy about pain and sex being the only real tangible things in this world and everything else being something we just make up to make us feel real. And really when I hear you talk, I don’t feel any conviction; I just feel what I felt last week: another bitch talking a big game about hurting her opponent to fit in and be yet another “Strong independent sexy woman who kicks ass.” There was nothing new in your statement that I didn’t hear last week from another girl who walked out of the female stereotype cloning machine. And, just like last week, when you talk, all I hear is a lost little girl who is clueless to just how meaningless and random this world is. You’re frightened and you’re terrified of being meaningless in this world and you think taking me down a peg will sate that feeling. Guess what? We are all meaningless; all of this is meaningless. But if you want to put value in how the world views you by hurting me …well, you are more welcome to try. Hell, I am desperate for a challenge but judging by what I know of you, I am going to be left disappointed yet again.
Upset with the fact she knew her match was going to not be as violent or heavily contested as she would have thought, she took another swig of her beer.
Calista Vandal: And you want to talk about Hopelessness for me? That might have been the one thing you were right about. There is no hope for me. But I’m not alone. There is no hope for me, there is no hope for you, and there is no hope for this country or any other for that matter. We are all hopeless …because hope is another thing we make up in our heads to give us some kind of meaning and purpose …which also don’t exist. No one is born better or destined for anything better than anyone else. That is something that you should know all too well, right? You were born a poverty stricken piece of shit and you will die a poverty stricken piece of shit. Nothing is going to change that. Not wins, not gold, NOTHING. Because that lack of hope will always be there; because hope will always be something you reach for but can never grab because it just isn’t there. That isn’t to say I’m any better. I grew up to be forced into believing in a God, I later found out didn’t exist. I was spoon-fed beliefs and theories that were complete tripe. And I, like a fool, believed it. And I reached out for hope like it was actually there too …but then I woke up and realized just how idiotic that was. But I didn’t try to overcompensate by going for gold or glory …no I went for the only reality and that was what we could physically feel. That is pretty damn hopeless don’t you think?
She took a puff of her cigarette and then flicked it into the camera out of frustration.
Calista Vandal: So yeah, I’m hopeless. So are you. So is everyone.
She then finished up her beer and then tossed that towards the camera. Then as she looked back towards it, a stern and serious look appeared on her face.
Calista Vandal: Here is what is going to happen when that bell rings on Thursday. You are going to attack, trying to prove that you are something you are not. You are going to scratch and claw and fight …and I am going to laugh at your desperation while also being let down that TNT General Manager hasn’t handed me someone I could really sink my teeth into as far as someone who can really hurt me. And then when you give up and realize that you are in fact, none of those things you want to be …well, then I’m going to do what I do best: hurt you. And not just in the “I want to hear you scream way.” No, odds are you’ll be screaming pretty early on anyways. No, I will do it because that is what I enjoy and because it will make you realize how hopeless this world is for everyone. It will sober you to the world that all of us are nothing but blood and hormones. And maybe then you’ll find out why I like it that way.
She then stood up and walked towards the camera and bent over like she was going to turn it off. But then she remembered something and tacked on a little cautionary tale for Hope.
Calista Vandal: And you should pray that I find you as funny as Jayde Brooklyn because if I don’t …the odds of watching you carried out on a stretcher are pretty good.
She then blew a kiss while rolling her eyes and shut off the camera.