Post by Samantha Tolson on Nov 4, 2017 21:02:51 GMT -5
--OFF-CAMERA--
Samantha Tolson sat in a lounge chair on her back patio, dressed in only a two-piece black swimsuit as she soaked up the rays coming from the suburban Las Vegas sunshine. On her face were a pair of reflective aviator-style sunglasses, and at her fingertips was a cold bottle of Mountain Dew.
From the slight grin on her face...there was a potential it might also contain some Jack Daniels...
But anyway.
Samantha set down her tablet on the small glass bistro table next to the chair, and relaxed in the warm sun, quite content with her decision to select a home here in the American desert. Her puppies, Luke and Leia, dutifully laid near her feet, one on each side of the chair, lying on their sides in a bit of a sunshine-grabbing pose themselves.
In all, a quiet day at Samantha's home. One she relished. These did not come often, but this desert oasis was the very reason she'd ponied up all the cash, for days just like this....days where she could simply be. Regaining her Chaos Championship from the uberslut Roxy Cotton would happen in time, and most certainly on Samantha's time. Today...this was her day. A day of rest. A day of relaxation.
But most of all...a day of healing.
It was not, at this point, a well-kept secret that Samantha had been suffering from insomnia, in large part due to nightmares that would not go away whenever she slept. A trip to a local clinic, recommended by a neighbor, had given her some temporary relief in the form of sleeping pills, but ever wary of an addiction, Samantha didn't always take them as she should. So from time to time, the nightmares still haunted her, but they weren't as frequent as they had been.
That alone allowed her body to finally heal, and her mind to finally find spurts of rest, both desperately needed. Despite the fact that Roxy Cotton literally tried to take her life, it wasn't Roxy Cotton herself that had beaten Samantha at LAW 70, it was exhaustion. It was the inability to force her muscles to respond that had cost her the second-longest title reign in LAW history.
The thought of that name gave Samantha a smirk. The whore couldn't keep Samantha's name out of her mouth, regardless of her win. That alone gave Samantha more confidence that when the time came, she would bleed the little slut dry and recapture the championship she created and fought to legitimize. Roxy Cotton, if forced to admit it, feared her, and she knew it.
But the moment at hand required full concentration on someone else that had seen rough results, Maya Jensen. The woman who'd seemingly already conceded the match to Samantha.
Samantha Tolson wasn't having any of that.
And it was time to tell Maya exactly that. She picked up the tablet again, and after a swipe and a couple of touches, began recording.
--ON-CAMERA--
Samantha Tolson appeared in a two-piece suit, a pair of aviator-style sunglasses on her face, soaking up the sun on a lazy afternoon. There was a soft smile on her face as she spoke.
"So, Maya Jensen....I'll be honest here. I don't like your lack of confidence one bit."
"And that's coming from someone who's recently only started to regain her own."
"I mean, let's call a spade a spade here. You're on Twitter, basically conceding me our match in Cincinnati."
"Why?"
"I mean, I get it. Your record in LAW isn't spectacular. So what? You're going to automatically chalk up another one in the loss column because you're facing me?"
"Nah...ain't buying that shit for a second."
"So the question remains....what is your goal, really?"
Samantha smirks. She's been here before.
"Are you trying to knock me off my game, playing some sort of Jedi mind trick?"
Samantha casually waves her left hand in the air like Obi-Wan Kenobi in the original Star Wars.
"You will not take Maya Jensen seriously...."
Samantha laughs.
"No, Maya, that shit's not gonna work here."
"But, just in case your lack of confidence is real, and not imagined, let me tell you that if you walk into that ring in Cincinnati with your dauber down like that....I'll fucking destroy you."
"Don't get me wrong. It's not that I want to hurt you. I don't. I'd much rather us have a spirited match and move along. But, if you're going to hang your head like this, I'm afraid that's what will happen. I will drop you on your little head repeatedly, give you a concussion, then stick your head between my legs and end your suffering."
"Why, you might ask? Well, because I can is the obvious answer. I have not only the ability, but the returning temper to do something like that. The machine is coming back to me. The inner monster is slowly scratching away at the walls of its cage, just begging to be let out to play once more."
"But it's much, much simpler than even that. You come at me half-heartedly, Maya, and I promise you that you will be injured without effort. It's just the type of offense I employ. It's not for the faint of heart, nor the weak-willed. Because when I get hold of you, chances are high that the back of your head is going to get bounced off the mat....and I'll do that to you just as often as I possibly can until I beat the fight out of you."
"And if you step into that ring unprepared, Maya...that's on you. I am coming ready. I am coming for a fight. I am going to do everything I can do, and must do, to put your shoulders to the mat for three seconds."
"So if you come to Cincinnati....if you come into that stronghold of the Cool Kids...you know, the one with the shitty ass LFL team?"
"You'd better come ready to defend yourself."
"Come at me with everything you have, Maya. Both guns firing, ready to go out in a blaze of fucking glory."
"Because whether you do or not, one thing's absolutely for certain."
"I'm going to beat you."
"Whether you believe it or not."
Samantha blows a kiss at the camera on her tablet.
"Consider this a warning....a courtesy call."
Samantha reaches up and kills the camera shot, setting the tablet back on the table as she sighed happily in the warm glow of the afternoon sun.
Samantha Tolson sat in a lounge chair on her back patio, dressed in only a two-piece black swimsuit as she soaked up the rays coming from the suburban Las Vegas sunshine. On her face were a pair of reflective aviator-style sunglasses, and at her fingertips was a cold bottle of Mountain Dew.
From the slight grin on her face...there was a potential it might also contain some Jack Daniels...
But anyway.
Samantha set down her tablet on the small glass bistro table next to the chair, and relaxed in the warm sun, quite content with her decision to select a home here in the American desert. Her puppies, Luke and Leia, dutifully laid near her feet, one on each side of the chair, lying on their sides in a bit of a sunshine-grabbing pose themselves.
In all, a quiet day at Samantha's home. One she relished. These did not come often, but this desert oasis was the very reason she'd ponied up all the cash, for days just like this....days where she could simply be. Regaining her Chaos Championship from the uberslut Roxy Cotton would happen in time, and most certainly on Samantha's time. Today...this was her day. A day of rest. A day of relaxation.
But most of all...a day of healing.
It was not, at this point, a well-kept secret that Samantha had been suffering from insomnia, in large part due to nightmares that would not go away whenever she slept. A trip to a local clinic, recommended by a neighbor, had given her some temporary relief in the form of sleeping pills, but ever wary of an addiction, Samantha didn't always take them as she should. So from time to time, the nightmares still haunted her, but they weren't as frequent as they had been.
That alone allowed her body to finally heal, and her mind to finally find spurts of rest, both desperately needed. Despite the fact that Roxy Cotton literally tried to take her life, it wasn't Roxy Cotton herself that had beaten Samantha at LAW 70, it was exhaustion. It was the inability to force her muscles to respond that had cost her the second-longest title reign in LAW history.
The thought of that name gave Samantha a smirk. The whore couldn't keep Samantha's name out of her mouth, regardless of her win. That alone gave Samantha more confidence that when the time came, she would bleed the little slut dry and recapture the championship she created and fought to legitimize. Roxy Cotton, if forced to admit it, feared her, and she knew it.
But the moment at hand required full concentration on someone else that had seen rough results, Maya Jensen. The woman who'd seemingly already conceded the match to Samantha.
Samantha Tolson wasn't having any of that.
And it was time to tell Maya exactly that. She picked up the tablet again, and after a swipe and a couple of touches, began recording.
--ON-CAMERA--
Samantha Tolson appeared in a two-piece suit, a pair of aviator-style sunglasses on her face, soaking up the sun on a lazy afternoon. There was a soft smile on her face as she spoke.
"So, Maya Jensen....I'll be honest here. I don't like your lack of confidence one bit."
"And that's coming from someone who's recently only started to regain her own."
"I mean, let's call a spade a spade here. You're on Twitter, basically conceding me our match in Cincinnati."
"Why?"
"I mean, I get it. Your record in LAW isn't spectacular. So what? You're going to automatically chalk up another one in the loss column because you're facing me?"
"Nah...ain't buying that shit for a second."
"So the question remains....what is your goal, really?"
Samantha smirks. She's been here before.
"Are you trying to knock me off my game, playing some sort of Jedi mind trick?"
Samantha casually waves her left hand in the air like Obi-Wan Kenobi in the original Star Wars.
"You will not take Maya Jensen seriously...."
Samantha laughs.
"No, Maya, that shit's not gonna work here."
"But, just in case your lack of confidence is real, and not imagined, let me tell you that if you walk into that ring in Cincinnati with your dauber down like that....I'll fucking destroy you."
"Don't get me wrong. It's not that I want to hurt you. I don't. I'd much rather us have a spirited match and move along. But, if you're going to hang your head like this, I'm afraid that's what will happen. I will drop you on your little head repeatedly, give you a concussion, then stick your head between my legs and end your suffering."
"Why, you might ask? Well, because I can is the obvious answer. I have not only the ability, but the returning temper to do something like that. The machine is coming back to me. The inner monster is slowly scratching away at the walls of its cage, just begging to be let out to play once more."
"But it's much, much simpler than even that. You come at me half-heartedly, Maya, and I promise you that you will be injured without effort. It's just the type of offense I employ. It's not for the faint of heart, nor the weak-willed. Because when I get hold of you, chances are high that the back of your head is going to get bounced off the mat....and I'll do that to you just as often as I possibly can until I beat the fight out of you."
"And if you step into that ring unprepared, Maya...that's on you. I am coming ready. I am coming for a fight. I am going to do everything I can do, and must do, to put your shoulders to the mat for three seconds."
"So if you come to Cincinnati....if you come into that stronghold of the Cool Kids...you know, the one with the shitty ass LFL team?"
"You'd better come ready to defend yourself."
"Come at me with everything you have, Maya. Both guns firing, ready to go out in a blaze of fucking glory."
"Because whether you do or not, one thing's absolutely for certain."
"I'm going to beat you."
"Whether you believe it or not."
Samantha blows a kiss at the camera on her tablet.
"Consider this a warning....a courtesy call."
Samantha reaches up and kills the camera shot, setting the tablet back on the table as she sighed happily in the warm glow of the afternoon sun.