| CassandraAvery | Date: Friday, 2011/07/15, 3:55 PM | Message # 1 |
 Development
Group: EWA Roster
Messages: 12
Status: Offline
| "Jesus Christ, hurry the fuck up. Don't you know how to use any of this shit? Or did I put up the wrong loser techie for this painfully simple job?"
-There is the sound of curse words muttered under someone's breath, grunting with the struggle of maneuvering equipment and various electronic clicking. The shot fades into focus; Cassandra Avery is sitting in an over-stuffed brown leather armchair with her feet over one side and her back propped up on the other. Behind her a bookshelf stacked with different texts. The lighting is low and warm; Cassandra's expression is cold in comparison. From behind the camera come more muffled sighs of frustration. The shot shakes and moves in an out of focus until the picture is perfectly clear.-
Techie: Yes! Got it! Ok, ready when you are.
Cass: Fucking lord, finally.
-Cass takes a deep breath and pulls a cigarette from behind her ear. She reaches a hand into the neckline of her black tank top and extracts a lighter. She sits there smoking in complete silence for at least three minutes while the techie silently sweats behind the camera, wondering if he should do or say something. He smartly opts to keep his mouth shut. Cass' stares out into the distance a moment longer, holding the cigarette in her mouth before she shakes her head a begins a sardonic slow clap---
Cass: Yeah....YEAH. I gotta give it up to Thrax and Ruthless aggression. Man....what...what a match, huh? I mean, you two were out there, giving it your all. Blood, sweat, and tears...every last bit of it. And in this case, literally blood. Oh yeah, I saw that Ruth. Serious stuff there. Fuck....just some stellar effort and action in that brutal match up. And Jesus...I....man, I FUCKED the SHIT out of both of you didn't I? HAH. Sweet tap-dancing Christ, I just drilled the shit out of you two green-ass carps. Like Evan Stone on the set of Pirates....just pounding asses for money. Not that I'm one to gloat or anything, because let's face it, we all lose from time to time, but that victory was so wonderfully delicious...and coppery...like the taste of Ruthless' blood from that headbutt. Too bad it wasn't enough to get you that title shot, eh Ruthie? I would wish you two class-act individuals better luck next time, but I am stoked as balls not to have to deal with you anymore.
-Cass takes a deep, theatrical sigh of relief and tosses her half-smoked cigarette at the bookshelf behind her. She arches her back and gives herself a good stretch, releasing a big breath.-
I get to move up that ladder, that big beautiful ladder called success and pass by you speed bump, card-openers to the REAL SHIT. Shit like S-N-fucking_A....
-She grits her teeth and cracks her knuckles…-
You know, Nick....I hate to admit it, but you do tend to make a splash pretty much everywhere you go. You always end up at the top, because the cream rises, isn't that right? Man, it's just too bad that you were good enough 8 years ago. You pissed me off pretty bad at Shatter Point; I'll give you your due. But really, I'm surprised you had the balls to pull that shit off, trying to come off like the cool guy when really you should be EMBARRASSED, Nicholas. I came into this business wide-eyed and eager, lusting after what I thought was the biggest dog in the yard...you. Yeah, I'll admit I was the dumb-fuck who took your bad-ass gimmick too close to heart and decided I wanted to have you. But let's make this clear LEST YOU FORGET......I DROPPED *YOUR* ASS, ALEXANDER! You weren't good enough for me. And I spent the rest of my career fucking the REAL TALENT. And fuck you, you selective remembering shit bag, trying to tell me I didn't have world title straps....NWA WORLD TITLE, FUCKASS. Suck on it. And yeah yeah yeah....you're a multi-time champ and who-gives-a-fuck-else...
-Cass rolls her eyes and makes the jerking off motion-
...but get your facts straight, dip-shit. A title run is a title run, end of fucking story and I got mine back after I worked my ASS OFF in a company full of men to get what I DESERVED, so you can eat a dick if you think you're going to condescend to me about not having any title straps.
-Cass bites her lip, staring off into the middle distance for a moment. She closes her eyes and pops them back open, as if she cleared some cobwebs-
But No...No.....fuck bringing up old stats and old shit from the CEW, because you're right about one thing. It isn't about that, is it? It's about you thinking you can still get what you want this time around. Well, fuck you, because I'm about to pull the carpet out from under your feet. Big man with your guaranteed title shot....signed contract. I get what you're about.....wait till I get the strap in the title shot I earned and then cash in your contract so you can work me over, like you think that'll be a breeze. Maybe you've forgotten about me, maybe you've forgotten that in the end it didn't matter who I was screwing or how much shit I talked, I earned my straps and I won my matches. End of fucking point. I feel sorry for you....thinking you can breeze past me. Fuck you, Nick Alexander. I plan on making this whole title shot thing really, really difficult for you.
-Cass smoothes out some of the creases in her jeans, and re-adjusts her shirt a little.-
But speaking of staying focused on the present and matters at hand.....Karen Evans. I, uh, I guess I have to grapple with this broad on Shatter Point. Look, here's the deal. I....have no idea who the fuck you are. Seriously. I only pay attention to shit that matters and since you don't fit the bill, Karen, darling, I couldn't really give two fucks about who you are what you're about. And yeah, I could go on for a bit longer and do the whole insert-comment-here thing about kicking your ass and blah blah blah. But the honest to god, plain truth of the matter is that you are not getting past me. That's it. End of fucking story. There's only one way this thing is ending and that's with you flat on your back, counting area lights. So, really, don't hit the gym too hard....don't train or anything, because this fucking joke of a match up is a blip on my radar. I have bigger and better things to do, but you'll keep me busy for the time being. Actually, Karen, do me a favor, don't even suit up for this match. Just, come in some jeans and a t-shirt and you can assume the position and I'll just get the 3 on you. That way neither of us has to bother with giving this too much effort.
-Cass furrows her brow in thought for a moment and licks her lips..-
Actually, wait....wait.....aren't you uh..married to Buck Evans? Awesome. You can tell that fat choade you call a spouse that I'm coming for that ass. Bucky, buddy, I'm sorry I gotta brutalize your wife this week, but you know how these things go.
-Cassandra winks and does the used-car salesman point and gun shoot. She lifts herself out of the comfy, padded leather chair she was sprawled out on and crawls towards the camera, her face a few inches away-
Cass: Sweet Nicky darling, Bucky boy....don't get too fucking comfy. That strap doesn't belong to either of you now.
-The feeds cuts to a blank screen. There is a clicking and fumbling of electronic equipment and the idiot techie finally releases a big breath he'd been keeping in.-
Techie: How was that, Cassandra?
-Cass has stretched herself out on the floor and cuts a sidelong glance at the techie stooge-
Cass: Well, you managed to capture it all on film. So congratulations, you can do a well-trained monkey's job. And don't call me Cassandra. It's Miss Avery, dumbass. Show a little respect, huh?
Techie: Right....right...I'm so sorry, C--Miss Avery.
Cass: Good....great....now get the fuck out.
-The techie hesitates for a moment before he realizes Cass is being completely serious. He scrambles to scoop together all of his recording equipment before rushing out the door. Cass can hear him drop half of his armful once outside and rolls her eyes and shakes her head. The threshold of the open study door is darkened for a moment. Cassandra looks up and smiles in a sweet, venomous way.-
"Well....are you done now?"
Cass: Oh, of course, little brother. Did you want to spend some quality time with your Redtube account now?
-Cassandra's older brother David blushes a little and shoots a furtive glance at the computer that was sits in the corner of the study. Cass kips up into a standing position and laughs a little-
Cass: Don't worry, I won't tell your wife. Thanks for lending me the use of your house and all...but I gotta get the fuck out of here. Reeks of too much domesticity, you know.
-She tries to move past him, but David remains a little oblivious and eager to question...-
David: So...so you really think you'll be able to mow over Karen so easily? You're the number one contender now, right?
-The corners of Cass' mouth lift up in a condescending smile. She gives David a few too-hard, semi-affectionate pats on the cheek and looks him directly in the eye.-
Cass: It's not a question, little brother. Don't be fucking stupid.
-With that, Cassandra pushes past David and slams the front door.-
Beyond you. Utterly.
Message edited by CassandraAvery - Friday, 2011/07/15, 3:57 PM |
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