Post by Boardwalk Angels on Feb 18, 2017 11:56:46 GMT -5
”A hell of a lot can change in six months, and I’m living proof. Six months ago, I lived in a shitty apartment in Trenton and my only source of proper income came from recording Zoey’s promos for Visionaries of Wrestling and, sometimes, her magic performances. Bills were barely scraped past and whatever was left was scarcely enough to keep my equipment working right. My dreams were being crushed under the weight of reality and memories that only reached the surface when I was alone. Most of my friends had no idea of the depths in which I dwelled and Zoey was kind enough to keep that from them to let me save a little face. But… all it took to change it was a little friendly nudging… from Jamilyn and Stacy and, of course, Zoey herself. Somehow they’d come across this old video of me singing, just for fun, and told me I should do something with it. A few weeks later, I’m in a studio with D-Block and C-Note, belting out every challenge they threw me. A few hours after that… HE walked in.”
* The day of love, in the midst of sunset *
* The Cornett Residence *
* Fort Wayne, Indiana *
Destiny had told her Mama Red that her dad went all out for Valentine’s Day and, Farrah being Farrah, she thought she had a good idea of what that meant. She didn’t have a clue. From the food to the decor to the man himself, James Cornett accomplished a sterling success where it came to the evening… including himself. Damn near immaculate in a black suit with a crimson tie, he looked every bit the part of the Dark God that Farrah saw him as. Farrah felt her breath catch when she first saw him and all through a steak dinner for four with all the trimmings she could scarce keep her eyes off him. The feeling was mutual…
...except for this bit of reservation that had a grip on James. He seemed tense, tentative… almost reticent. Destiny and Kate would chalk it up to nerves but Farrah knew better. Something was on the man’s mind. The four of them sat out on the deck behind the house, having dinner under the stars thanks to the unseasonably warm weather that night. For most of the meal except when they were directly engaged in the conversation, the girls kept to themselves. Farrah, her athletic figure draped in a blood red dress, kept her attention on her man. She placed her hand upon his, squeezing his fingers. The gesture was returned and, from moment to moment, he would smile. Yet still the concerned lingered in her.
Cut to later that evening as the girls had gone upstairs to sleep off their incoming food coma, leaving the couple who referred to each other as Sugar and Spice to tidy up the dishes and what-not before they likewise turned in. The conversation was quiet… and perhaps a bit more intense than expected.
"Dinner was great, sweetheart. I apologize for being a little late. Courtney's event ran a bit longer than expected."
When he didn't immediately respond, Farrah put worry out of her mind and kept to the task at hand. Something was on his mind... that much she could see. But she wouldn't force him to talk about it. That wasn't her way. He'd say something when he was ready and she'd be there. His mind, however, wasn't quite here. She worried, for a moment, that one of his ‘other halves’ had ‘commandeered’ him, but one look to his eyes told her otherwise and she breathed an inward sigh of relief.
"It's okay. I understand that. At least you all had a great time."
"I did. It's good to see Courtney doing well for herself. But that doesn't change the fact that at this point I'm thinking I either missed something here... or my absence maybe had an effect."
She puts a glass aside and picks up another, keeping to the task at hand as she speaks.
"We have no secrets, James. You're you... but something is up. I want to help, but I can't do that if you don't tell me what's going on."
"Trying not to let my insecurities get the better of me."
True, between what'd happened with Katie and Katalina's remarks to Jamilyn, fueled only by the exchange his secretary Liz had unearthed between Jamilyn and Claire, James had plenty on his mind...but for once his insecurities at play were of a much more personal nature.
”The fears are creeping up on me again.”
"You're afraid something is going to happen to what we have."
It was really just a guess, but she'd seen him have moments like this in the past where it came to them. They were far and few between, for they fed off one another and shared a strong level of happiness. But every once in a while the past would unearth itself and bring him down. This time, she felt, given the time of year and the recent events among their circle, it would not be so easy. She took the plate from his hand and gently rested it under the soapy water. Farrah then took his hands in hers, looking up to him.
"I can tell you with utter certainty that I'm not going anywhere. I'm sure as hell not letting anyone or anything turn me from you. You're my first and my last, baby. But what's inside you... it runs deep. And I don't know what I can do or say to help. Doesn't mean I ain't gonna try... I'm just saying."
"Nicole's birthday..."
Valentine's Day. Of course. That had to be a big chunk of it. No wonder DJ had been worried for him.
"There are times when I look back on us… and I start wondering when the knife is getting brandished. Anyone I've let this close into my heart, they destroy it. And Rune's getting concerned about the lack of fighting between us..."
Rune... that asshole. Even when Ross had gone under his Marcello Bianchi identity, he at least was respectful and appreciative of the type of relationship Farrah had. Rune, by comparison, seemed preoccupied with negativity, to the point where he would outright question how something was going if a negative event didn't happen within a certain amount of time. James could feel Farrah’s hands tighten and see that careful set in her jaw, the tell-tale sign that her anger was kicking up...
"Rune needs to mind his fucking business. For that matter, anyone who ain't a Cornett or who I don't consider my extended family can keep their doomsaying to themselves. I'm never in a mood to tolerate people who stand in the way of someone else's happiness. Especially when it’s ours.”
She shakes her head for a moment, taking a breath and attempting to calm a little. The situation didn't need her flaring up like that. It wasn't conducive to healing. After a moment, she continued.
"Your past kinda conspires against us. People who think they know... they don't know how to let it rest. You get a shot at happiness and instead of embracing it..."
Turning from James for a moment, Farrah sighs and puts her hands on the counter, lowering her head.
"...you wait for it to end. You can't make yourself take hold of it. I know it's only been, what, five months? Almost six? That's not a lifetime. That's barely scratching the surface. But I'm trying here. I know you are, too..."
Farrah trailed off, finding herself at a loss. This was too new to her. Six months ago she figured she’d go to her grave, or at least another 20 years or so, alone. Probably end up some old spinster with fourteen cats, a house that smelled funny and too many regrets. Then HE walked in.
"Now you understand why I closed myself off to the public for the most part. Their interventions aren't welcome. I want this to be different..."
He leans into her and calms his breathing, his arms going around her waist.
"...is it weird that I feel like you've been protecting me instead of the other way around?"
"Not really. It actually makes a lot of sense. And it isn't new to me so much... it reminds me of back in school with Zoey. I was sorta her protector but that was a different situation, obviously."
She willingly leans back against him, soaking up his warmth and feeling, once again, that things were going to be okay. That, to her, was a close call.
"I'll do whatever I have to to make this work. I don't care what it takes."
"I appreciate that. It's been incredible having you around, and I can't wait for the next forever with you."
"I'm always the exception. This won't be any different. This time you get to be happy for good... and so do I. It won't be easy, but I damn sure wouldn't bet against us."
At right about that moment, Farrah’s phone went off to the tune of “Magic” by The Pussycat Dolls, flashing and vibrating on the far side of the counter. Both Farrah and James look, the latter chuckling to himself, recognizing the song and who it indicated.
”Go see about Zee, baby. I’ll finish up here and see you upstairs.”
”You’d better. All the hints you’ve been dropping for the last two weeks are driving me up the fucking wall!”
James laughs that off as Farrah moves off to gather her phone, answering it as she walks into the living room.
”What’s up, angel-shorts?”
”That’s a new one by you, F-Bomb.”
Zoey’s soft voice comes through the other end of the phone, every bit as warm as the smile she’s no doubt wearing… a smile that is apparently contagious as one grows on Farrah’s face. Not her usual snarky one but a calmer, warmer upturn of lips. A nice change.
”So what’s the good word?”
”I actually had a conversation not long ago with Jessamine Jordan, that lawyer whom Jimmy recommended to us.”
”Yeah? How’d that go?”
”She’s… sharp. Very direct and without a lot of fluff. You know the type. You see it every time you look in a mirror.”
”You’re a riot is what you are. But I like what I’m hearing. What you’re saying is that she’ll be good for us just in case Megan tries to pull some shit.”
”That’s how I feel about it. Man…”
There’s a brief pause from Zoey on the other end of the line during which Farrah lowers herself into one of the overstuffed armchairs and crosses one nylon-sheathed leg over the other. Zoey, after a deep breath that well indicates her current fatigue, continues her thought.
”...I loved Courtney’s wedding, don’t get me wrong. But it was also kind of overwhelming. Reminds me of just how much I have to do to get mine squared away.”
The thought strikes a chord with Farrah, who stares off into space for a moment while responding, her expression neutral to match her voice.
”That’s not going to be a problem, is it?”
”Why would it… Farrah, seriously now...”
Exasperation slips into the magician’s tone but Farrah doesn’t let it deter her.
”Valid question, Zee. The woman you’re marrying in less than seven weeks is our opponent in two weeks. You two have gone round and round before, yeah, but that was a different playground without anything to fight over. I’m just asking the shit you should be asking yourself but are afraid to.”
”No offense, but that came off pretty harsh.”
”Knew the risks when you got involved. And so did I. If you tell me that you’re prepared for any and all consequences, I’ll believe you. Because I know you’re incapable of lying about anything to anyone. So tell me, yes or no: are you ready?”
There’s little to no pause between the query and the response.
”One-hundred-and-ten-percent. I knew it would eventually come to this and here it is barely two months into our contracts. It’s as if the universe wants us to settle up immediately and is leaving the slate clean for the future. I’m ready. We’ve got this.”
She’d never admit it to Zoey, but those words took a humongous weight off Farrah’s shoulders. She sighs, albeit silently, and lets that smile back into place.
”...that’s my girl. Go tend to your lady. I’ll tend to my man. And I’ll see you in a few days at Vincenzo’s.”
”See you then.”
Ending the call, Farrah sets the phone down on the arm of the chair, closing her eyes. The sound of a door opening and closing upstairs, however, has them opening again and a wicked grin peels back her darkly-painted lips.
”Mmm… my Dark God awaits…”
She rises and heads for the steps as the scene fades to black.
”And like I told Christy Winters last time, I worked my ass off to get to where I am. In no way am I putting all of my success on James. No, what he did was offer an opportunity… a chance to see what I was made of. And I made the most of it. The crappy apartment is a memory. Weeks worth of Ramen noodles are a thing of the past. And I no longer have to schedule my life around bus routes and the charity of others. When you fight your ass off for everything you have, yeah… you learn to respect the struggle and appreciate everything you have. But it also lights a fire under you that fills you with a determination to NEVER go back. With those comes confidence. And if it weren’t for that confidence I’d never have agreed to join Zoey as a tag team and once more step into a wrestling ring.
Which means we wouldn’t have joined LAW and found ourselves fighting for the World Tag Team Championships in our third goddamn match. And I can pin all of that on one offered opportunity. HIS offered opportunity. And in return, he has my love and devotion forever. This battle with the Naughty Girls? He’s my inspiration. And suddenly I almost feel sorry for Katalina and Katie.
Almost.”
* Sunday morning, during church hours *
* Sicilian Empire Wrestling School *
* Trenton, NJ *
The hour is early but from the looks of the Boardwalk Angels currently, they beat the sun to the punch today. While most people are sleeping off last night’s partying or dragging themselves out of bed to prepare for a morning of worship before a day of sloth, Farrah, Zoey and Courtney are filling a ring at the Sicilian Empire Wrestling School, getting some private training done in preparation for their battle with the Naughty Girls at Rising Stars. At the present moment, newly-minted Courtney Steele is playing the part of referee while Farrah and Zoey spar. The differences between the two women are immediately visible even to those seeing them for the first time: Zoey is the larger of the two, while Farrah is smaller and faster. Zoey is more skilled with chaining holds and grapples while Farrah is more proficient at finding openings for strikes. In terms of pure striking power, the women are a match for one another, and their fluidity is top-notch.
Soon enough, as both expected but Courtney is slightly confused by, Farrah and Zoey began to fight more than they were wrestling. Not out of anger, mind, but when they reached a stalemate on their grappling, Farrah fell back on her black belt level aikido while Zoey dipped into her MMA training. F-Bomb’s throws and slams, half the time, saw Zoey land on her feet or roll with the impact. The other half of the time revealed the magician’s strikes and grapples being unable to contain Farrah for long. They were charging one another again when a sharp beeping came from the direction of Courtney… seemingly to the blonde’s relief. She stepped between the two heavily-perspiring females, bringing them up to a stop.
”Time, ladies! Wow… you made me tired just watching you!”
The partners exchange glances with worn smiles, with Zoey laughing softly.
”Ten minutes already? I think I’m getting old…”
”Or slow."
”Well I HAVE to slow down a little just so you can keep up!”
”Oh, so you’re the funny one now, too?!”
The two go nose-to-nose, taking their noise at the same time which makes it difficult to make out what they’re saying. The smiles, though, are obvious; neither woman is truly having a go at the other. The residual adrenaline from their spar just has them pumped up and so some good-natured shade-tossing is the result. It’s a minute before Courtney can get between them again, just for laughing too hard at their banter.
”Oh, hush, you two! I’m dyin’ over here!”
All three are laughing at this point, with Zoey going to the small cooler set in the corner of the ring, fetching two bottles of water, one of which she tosses to Farrah before taking a sip from hers. Courtney hands them a couple towels and a moment is taken for the sake of getting composed before Farrah speaks up.
”So… you think Greybeard and Tinfoil are serious? All this noise they’re talkin’ about meeting us outside the arena at Rising Stars?”
One arm folded across her bare midsection, looking utterly enticing in purple-trimmed black attire, Zoey considers the query while her finger taps idly on the bottle in her hand.
”Whether they are or not, we’ll be there waiting when they show up. We don’t run from fights. Half of me thinks they’re just trying to pump themselves up, but when it comes to their lot… taking chances is foolish.”
”That’s what I’m thinking, too.”
”Not trying to be the party pooper here, girls, but what’s the point of going at those two at all until you’re booked against them? You done proved that they don’t stack up to you. Why risk your shot at the gold by getting into a brawl with them?”
Farrah and Zoey exchange glances, letting Courtney’s words sink in for a few moments. Shrugging beautifully, Zoey smiles at her friend, canting her head to the side a bit. Farrah, swathed in both lighter and darker shades of red, drains half her water from the bottle with a relieved exhale.
”The lovely Mrs. Steele DOES make an excellent point, partner…”
”I guess so. I mean, we’ve already taken their best shot without slowing down. What’s to prove? They’re just trying to steal our shine.”
”Besides, if they’re as good as they say, we’ll be seeing them soon enough after we put down the Naughty Girls and claim the gold. Patience is, as they say, a virtue.”
Courtney, a brow raised, looks between her two dear friends. Both wear serious expressions, confusing her further. After a couple moments she folds her arms across her chest, popping out one hip in an “oh, hell no” pose and stares at both women.
”Both of y’all suck! That shit ain’t funny!”
Obviously, Farrah and Zoey think otherwise. Both burst out laughing and soon Courtney is joining in, shaking her head with mock disapproval. After composing themselves, Farrah and Zoey properly respond to Courtney’s question.
”Because a lesson needs sending to those two towheads, Court. We don't have to justify ourselves or our spot in the company to either of them or to anyone else. But LAW #58 proved that they’ll take any chance they get to get up in our grills. Think of this as a… what would you call it, Zee?”
”A preventative measure. It isn’t going to interfere with our title match. We will not allow that. But it WILL get the idiotic idea out of their heads, that being the idea of inserting themselves into our business while we tangle with the Naughty Girls.”
”And suppose Megan gets a bug up her ass about it?”
”She can talk to our lawyer. I can assure you that she’d much rather deal with us than with Miss Jordan. We’re not going to Rising Stars looking for a fight with Guilty Pleasures. We’re going prepared in case they try and bring one to us.”
”BIG goddamn emphasis on the word ‘try’.”
Coming around to their way of thinking, seemingly, Courtney shrugs off the concern and grins to the two. She doffs her referee’s shirt, tossing it to Farrah who catches it with a smile.
”Glad y’all got that settled. My turn.”
”Ten minutes. Going till pinfall, tap out or time limit. Let’s dance, Court.”
”Bring it, Zee!”
Tugging the shirt over her head, Farrah grabs up the watch and sets the timer before dropping her arm,, prompting Zoey and Courtney to clash and lock up mid-ring. We fade out on this image.
* Monday, between breakfast and lunch *
* Transcontinental Studios *
* Fort Wayne, IN *
”Back to where it all began…”
Farrah’s voice is uncharacteristically quiet and calm as she speaks, the camera opening up to a shot of her sitting in one of the leather chairs of the Transcontinental Studios sound booth. Reclining back in the chair a bit, she has her legs propped up on the counter, clothed in form-fitting denim and unstrapped suspenders, the former of which disappear into tan suede boots that come up to her knees. A cropped black top with the words “Rise Up” in elegant lettering on the front hugs her torso, showing off a few inches of defined abs and the tiny sparkle of a navel ring. Her dark, purple-streaked hair hangs loose over her shoulders as she stares straight ahead through the window, toward the microphone in the middle of the recording area.
It isn’t sadness or worry that has her looking, in a word, vulnerable right now. It is remembrance. As stated previously, this is the place where her life changed half a year ago. She takes a few moments as the pre-programmed camera takes in every breath, every shift in her expression, easing her way into a mental state that properly allows her to speak her mind.
”Right in this very room, I gave my dream an honest shot. On the urging of dear friends whose words for a few moments shut out the echoing voice of the dead bastard who would have seen them crushed, I stepped into that booth. I tore open my own soul, parted my lips and let all the love, pain, tears and torment spill into a microphone. And for the first time in my life, I felt free. Nothing else existed. Not C-Note or D-Block sitting where I’m sitting, putting forth the notes to accent my voice, not the fact that I’d spent a week’s grocery money on a dress so I wouldn’t look like a slob when I showed up for the attempt… not the hateful, grating voices swirling in my brain, telling me to walk out the way I came in. I planted myself being that microphone and the first song on my CD came to life.
Not just a song, though. Sort of a… motto for my life in general. ‘Fight Like a Lady’. Don’t let anyone drag you down to their level, don’t let anyone try to tell you who and what you are. Head up, spine straight, shoulders back. Look them in the eye, politely tell them to fuck off and if they got beef you knock their teeth down their neck. Nothing on this planet is tougher than a lady who knows who and what she is and isn’t afraid to defend that against anyone or anything. Love those who love you and show no mercy to those who would ruin that love.”
Whether she’s relating the song’s lyrics or just her thoughts on the message behind the song itself, the words are equally potent… perhaps as much so as the lady speaking them. A smile creeps into view, albeit a faint one.
”Love… yeah, I used to not give a shit about that. Not until James walked through that door…”
She jerks a thumb in the direction of the aforementioned passage.
”...and changed my damn life. Now I don’t know how I ever lived without it. I’m more confident than I ever was. My CD is mere months away from release, I’ve got an entire division under me putting work into what will be an amazing television show and I’m side by side with two of my best friends as a professional wrestler. And not two months into this new stage of my life, Zoey and I are fighting for the tag team gold, something neither of us have held in our careers. It’s a shame that we gotta fight friends to do it, but that’s how the wrestling business goes. I’ve not been a competitor long, but I’ve been around it for quite a while through Zoey and James, and I’ve made plenty of observations that have proven true since I tossed my hat in the ring.”
Swinging her legs off the table, Farrah leans forward with her elbows on her knees, her chin resting on her fists as she stares at the counter. An unmarked CD in a pink jewel case rests before her and the sight of it makes her eyes sparkle in the manner of someone who’s holding back tears. One sniff later, though, and she’s mentally brushed them away.
Doesn’t stop her staring for a little longer, though.
”I think pretty highly of Katalina Star, enough that I call her friend. She and I have plenty in common, some of it being through situations that are better off not discussed. The point is… I get her. There’s a reason she’s been one-half of the tag team champions with Katie Klein for as long as they have. Those women go out and get what they want, taking if they have to and fighting their asses off to keep it. All the people talking about a lack of competition for the Naughty Girls? I don’t claim to know anything about that. I see champions that have reigned for close to six months. I see a team that has beaten damn near everyone put in front of them. And that’s what I concern myself with. Not two women who have somehow skated to a long title reign through made-up tackling dummies, not two women who have thrived through a lack of competition. Two women who are champions.
Two women who are in our way.
Katie? I don’t know her as well as Katalina. I know she gets a rise out of fucking with people and hey, more power to her. But what she’s got to realize is that you don’t rattle people like myself and Zoey. Think on where we grew up and what we fought through to get to this point in our lives; do you really think some hyped-up slave trying to grind on us and lick our faces is gonna make the Boardwalk Angels pause? I’m sure Katie will enjoy herself trying, and that Kat will get a giggle out of it while she’s waiting on a tag, but the moment Katie turns back around after making a sexual predator out of herself? That’s when Zee or myself, as the case may be, will put her on her face in a way she won’t find nearly as appealing or comfortable.”
She turns her head, winking at the camera with a little grin.
”But by all means, Klein: try. Treat us like we’re a joke or, better yet, a vector for your chosen perversions. The kind of attitude that you two have had in that regard through your reign as champions will be the fastest road to take at Rising Stars if you want to kiss those straps good-bye. Let me repeat myself: we’re all friends here. We’ll be tight before the match and we’ll still be tight after. But between the bells, I’m going to beat you two like you stole money from me and called my dog a bitch. Might have to buy you a few drinks after the show to smooth things over, but hey… that’s wrestling for you.”
Getting to her feet, the lowered suspenders dancing about as she moves, Farrah walks through the door and into the studio proper. She looks around with a serene expression, her fingertips sliding down the shape of the microphone with the gentleness of a lover.
”Tough as I’m talking though, and you can bet your heart-shaped asses that I believe in and will prove every word of that, I respect the fact that you two are far more experienced than myself and Zoey as well. Not just as a team, not just as champions, but all around. Chemistry and life-long friendship are what helped bring Zee and myself to this point, with our in-ring synergy being built more and more as time goes on. Two matches in and we’re already facing the champs, which means we’re doing something right. But you two are on another level and I’m fully cognizant of that. Part of that comes from the utter trust that Katie has in you, Katalina. What did you call her? Your primary?”
Farrah considers this for a moment, searching through faint memories before shrugging her shoulders and chuckling.
”I’m sure it was something like that. But the point is made: Katie lives for your direction. She looks up to you and fights her tail off for you. Your word is her law. And you lead by example, ensuring that she follows in your step. Zee and I have chemistry, but it’s nowhere near that defined. We’re friends and we always have one another’s backs. You two have turned a relationship most of the world frowns on and gets all the wrong ideas about into something that has earned you fame and more than a little notoriety. It’s something I gotta give props for.
But neither of you are fighters. I don’t mean in terms of life, but in terms of combat sports. Both of you are good wrestlers. You’d have to be to become champions. But fighters? That you ain’t. Zoey and I on the other hand… we hit hard and fast. We can take it AND dish it out. If you don’t believe us, ask Greybeard and Tinfoil. They took their best shot at LAW #56 and had to attack with a weapon to not end up on their backs for a three-count. They tried again at LAW #57 and we stood toe-to-toe after they came out swinging furniture. The fact that they still want a piece of us only tells me that they’re masochists.
The bottom line is that if push comes to shove, you two are going to get hurt. I said that Katie’s ‘strategies’ wouldn’t rattle us, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t capable of pissing us off. And if she does, we’re going to make her scream in ways Chastity wishes she could. And when it comes to you, Katalina? Well, I don’t think you’d go as far as Klein, but if you do… I’m sure Zee will know how to handle that. Catherine, after all, has done her a world of good.”
The smile turns into a grin, a wicked one, that lingers a bit as Farrah pauses to choose her words. Taking a familiar remote from her pocket she adjusts the camera a bit to keep it centered on her as she moves out of the studio.
”That’s the crazy part of this deal, though: the relationship between Zee and Katalina. My girl assures me that she’s ready to go all-out without reservation and I believe her… but I wonder if Katalina herself is ready for that. I’m not going to put words into either woman’s mouth, but wrestling isn’t known for being all that helpful toward relationships. There’s plenty of exceptions, though, and all three of the Boardwalk Angels represent one such example. I’d rather not see their engagement become a casualty, but I’ll be damned if I let the thought keep me from becoming a champion. That’s something you’re gonna have to ask yourself, Kat: are you prepared for every consequence? How much do the titles mean to you? Anything can happen in wrestling after all, and you’re an intelligent woman. Like I said: I don’t believe there’s anything in existence that can separate you two, but that doesn’t make it impossible.”
Letting that thought hang in the air, Farrah takes down a suede leather jacket from the rack near the door, the same color as her boots and lined with faux fur against the winter air.
”Kate seems more antsy than you, though. Stressed would maybe be a better word, though. But I also look at it as her having the right attitude. You two haven’t lost a tag match in some time and that means something. Hell, it’s part of the reason that I don’t listen to the b.s. concerning you two getting an easy ride as champs. There IS a line, though, and Katie sounds like she face-planted into it. I hold to the fact that there ain’t no hard feelings between us and yourselves, but what I say next? It’s gotta be said.”
The coat is draped over her arm, forgotten for the moment.
”So you’re not scared. Good on you. Tell me this, Katie: does it look like I personally give a fuck whether you’re scared or not? You’re trying to start drama where there is none and, hey, if that works for you then so be it. But recall my words: I respect your accomplishments. I hold to that. But what it DOESN’T mean is that I buy your hype. You’re due a beating in that ring and the Angels WILL deliver. And we WILL take your pretty gold belts in the process. No amount of threats on your part or downplaying our right to this match will change that. And unlike you, we’re not going to make this personal. You got some bug up your ass about Katalina and Zoey being engaged? Sounds like jealousy to me. Guess it’s easier to put something EVERYONE ALREADY KNOWS ABOUT on blast than it is to handle yourself like a lady and air your problems with that situation to the people whom it concerns in private, huh?
And yeah, I heard you single me out for ‘special attention’. Oh, sugar-tits, you just got no idea who you’re fooling with, do you? Zee? She’d laugh you out of your collar for trying to call her out… and then choke you out with it just for your bitch-made comments about her relationship. In other words, you’d get off light. Me? I don’t swing the same way you do and I’m not as forgiving as Zee. If you come up rubbing your crotch on me I’m going to put my foot so far up your baby-maker that you’re gonna look like the world’s horniest hand puppet. I’ll knock your head so far off your neck you’ll look like a goddamn rock ‘em-sock ‘em robot. Getting the picture, Klein? I suggest you stick to wrestling and keep your urges in the locker room with your chained-up manager. Otherwise there won’t be anything left of you for Katalina to punish after I beat half the life out of you.”
Licking her lips, Farrah half-glowers, half-grins into the camera. Katie had riled her a bit and while she’s quick to get back on-point, she savors the fire just a bit before going on.
”We’re determined, Naughty Girls. That should have been clear from the get. For all the back and forth with Guilty Pleasures and around all the drama with Megan Helms-King and our families, Zee and I know what stands before us and we haven’t lost focus for a moment. Because, in the end, it’s all about being tag team champions. And no one… NO ONE… wants to be champions more than Zoey and I. That justification for all the hell we’ve marched through and the hours upon days upon months of hard work we’ve accomplished to make ourselves ready for this ultimate moment when we can hold the belts high and have our names announced as the NEW LAW World Tag Team Champions. We want it more than anything.
That’s what all this boils down to. Not relationship squabbles or family drama. Not bitches in need of a lesson through beat down or who’s marrying who. It’s about who’s going to be the champions when Rising Stars goes in the books. And that WILL be the Boardwalk Angels. We won’t be out-wrestled and we damn sure won’t be out-fought. Katie, you’re going to kiss fist, foot and mat until you beg off like we’re the ones holding your leash. Katalina, you’re going to get put on your knees, then on your back, over and over again until you have the good sense to surrender. Zee and I… we’re due. And at Rising Stars the wait is over.”
Farrah turns her back for a moment to put on her jacket, the back of the shirt displaying the Boardwalk Angels logo as seen during her previous promo, a sash at the bottom reading “Get Ready to Fly”. Then the jacket is slid on, covering it. Flipping her hair from under it, Farrah turns and slides on a pair of dark shades as she stares into the camera.
”And, again, drinks are on us after the show. It’s the least we can do. Till then, ladies… get ready to fly.”
Giving the camera a little salute-like wave with two fingers, Farrah shuts the device off, bringing the promo to a close.
* The day of love, in the midst of sunset *
* The Cornett Residence *
* Fort Wayne, Indiana *
Destiny had told her Mama Red that her dad went all out for Valentine’s Day and, Farrah being Farrah, she thought she had a good idea of what that meant. She didn’t have a clue. From the food to the decor to the man himself, James Cornett accomplished a sterling success where it came to the evening… including himself. Damn near immaculate in a black suit with a crimson tie, he looked every bit the part of the Dark God that Farrah saw him as. Farrah felt her breath catch when she first saw him and all through a steak dinner for four with all the trimmings she could scarce keep her eyes off him. The feeling was mutual…
...except for this bit of reservation that had a grip on James. He seemed tense, tentative… almost reticent. Destiny and Kate would chalk it up to nerves but Farrah knew better. Something was on the man’s mind. The four of them sat out on the deck behind the house, having dinner under the stars thanks to the unseasonably warm weather that night. For most of the meal except when they were directly engaged in the conversation, the girls kept to themselves. Farrah, her athletic figure draped in a blood red dress, kept her attention on her man. She placed her hand upon his, squeezing his fingers. The gesture was returned and, from moment to moment, he would smile. Yet still the concerned lingered in her.
Cut to later that evening as the girls had gone upstairs to sleep off their incoming food coma, leaving the couple who referred to each other as Sugar and Spice to tidy up the dishes and what-not before they likewise turned in. The conversation was quiet… and perhaps a bit more intense than expected.
"Dinner was great, sweetheart. I apologize for being a little late. Courtney's event ran a bit longer than expected."
When he didn't immediately respond, Farrah put worry out of her mind and kept to the task at hand. Something was on his mind... that much she could see. But she wouldn't force him to talk about it. That wasn't her way. He'd say something when he was ready and she'd be there. His mind, however, wasn't quite here. She worried, for a moment, that one of his ‘other halves’ had ‘commandeered’ him, but one look to his eyes told her otherwise and she breathed an inward sigh of relief.
"It's okay. I understand that. At least you all had a great time."
"I did. It's good to see Courtney doing well for herself. But that doesn't change the fact that at this point I'm thinking I either missed something here... or my absence maybe had an effect."
She puts a glass aside and picks up another, keeping to the task at hand as she speaks.
"We have no secrets, James. You're you... but something is up. I want to help, but I can't do that if you don't tell me what's going on."
"Trying not to let my insecurities get the better of me."
True, between what'd happened with Katie and Katalina's remarks to Jamilyn, fueled only by the exchange his secretary Liz had unearthed between Jamilyn and Claire, James had plenty on his mind...but for once his insecurities at play were of a much more personal nature.
”The fears are creeping up on me again.”
"You're afraid something is going to happen to what we have."
It was really just a guess, but she'd seen him have moments like this in the past where it came to them. They were far and few between, for they fed off one another and shared a strong level of happiness. But every once in a while the past would unearth itself and bring him down. This time, she felt, given the time of year and the recent events among their circle, it would not be so easy. She took the plate from his hand and gently rested it under the soapy water. Farrah then took his hands in hers, looking up to him.
"I can tell you with utter certainty that I'm not going anywhere. I'm sure as hell not letting anyone or anything turn me from you. You're my first and my last, baby. But what's inside you... it runs deep. And I don't know what I can do or say to help. Doesn't mean I ain't gonna try... I'm just saying."
"Nicole's birthday..."
Valentine's Day. Of course. That had to be a big chunk of it. No wonder DJ had been worried for him.
"There are times when I look back on us… and I start wondering when the knife is getting brandished. Anyone I've let this close into my heart, they destroy it. And Rune's getting concerned about the lack of fighting between us..."
Rune... that asshole. Even when Ross had gone under his Marcello Bianchi identity, he at least was respectful and appreciative of the type of relationship Farrah had. Rune, by comparison, seemed preoccupied with negativity, to the point where he would outright question how something was going if a negative event didn't happen within a certain amount of time. James could feel Farrah’s hands tighten and see that careful set in her jaw, the tell-tale sign that her anger was kicking up...
"Rune needs to mind his fucking business. For that matter, anyone who ain't a Cornett or who I don't consider my extended family can keep their doomsaying to themselves. I'm never in a mood to tolerate people who stand in the way of someone else's happiness. Especially when it’s ours.”
She shakes her head for a moment, taking a breath and attempting to calm a little. The situation didn't need her flaring up like that. It wasn't conducive to healing. After a moment, she continued.
"Your past kinda conspires against us. People who think they know... they don't know how to let it rest. You get a shot at happiness and instead of embracing it..."
Turning from James for a moment, Farrah sighs and puts her hands on the counter, lowering her head.
"...you wait for it to end. You can't make yourself take hold of it. I know it's only been, what, five months? Almost six? That's not a lifetime. That's barely scratching the surface. But I'm trying here. I know you are, too..."
Farrah trailed off, finding herself at a loss. This was too new to her. Six months ago she figured she’d go to her grave, or at least another 20 years or so, alone. Probably end up some old spinster with fourteen cats, a house that smelled funny and too many regrets. Then HE walked in.
"Now you understand why I closed myself off to the public for the most part. Their interventions aren't welcome. I want this to be different..."
He leans into her and calms his breathing, his arms going around her waist.
"...is it weird that I feel like you've been protecting me instead of the other way around?"
"Not really. It actually makes a lot of sense. And it isn't new to me so much... it reminds me of back in school with Zoey. I was sorta her protector but that was a different situation, obviously."
She willingly leans back against him, soaking up his warmth and feeling, once again, that things were going to be okay. That, to her, was a close call.
"I'll do whatever I have to to make this work. I don't care what it takes."
"I appreciate that. It's been incredible having you around, and I can't wait for the next forever with you."
"I'm always the exception. This won't be any different. This time you get to be happy for good... and so do I. It won't be easy, but I damn sure wouldn't bet against us."
At right about that moment, Farrah’s phone went off to the tune of “Magic” by The Pussycat Dolls, flashing and vibrating on the far side of the counter. Both Farrah and James look, the latter chuckling to himself, recognizing the song and who it indicated.
”Go see about Zee, baby. I’ll finish up here and see you upstairs.”
”You’d better. All the hints you’ve been dropping for the last two weeks are driving me up the fucking wall!”
James laughs that off as Farrah moves off to gather her phone, answering it as she walks into the living room.
”What’s up, angel-shorts?”
”That’s a new one by you, F-Bomb.”
Zoey’s soft voice comes through the other end of the phone, every bit as warm as the smile she’s no doubt wearing… a smile that is apparently contagious as one grows on Farrah’s face. Not her usual snarky one but a calmer, warmer upturn of lips. A nice change.
”So what’s the good word?”
”I actually had a conversation not long ago with Jessamine Jordan, that lawyer whom Jimmy recommended to us.”
”Yeah? How’d that go?”
”She’s… sharp. Very direct and without a lot of fluff. You know the type. You see it every time you look in a mirror.”
”You’re a riot is what you are. But I like what I’m hearing. What you’re saying is that she’ll be good for us just in case Megan tries to pull some shit.”
”That’s how I feel about it. Man…”
There’s a brief pause from Zoey on the other end of the line during which Farrah lowers herself into one of the overstuffed armchairs and crosses one nylon-sheathed leg over the other. Zoey, after a deep breath that well indicates her current fatigue, continues her thought.
”...I loved Courtney’s wedding, don’t get me wrong. But it was also kind of overwhelming. Reminds me of just how much I have to do to get mine squared away.”
The thought strikes a chord with Farrah, who stares off into space for a moment while responding, her expression neutral to match her voice.
”That’s not going to be a problem, is it?”
”Why would it… Farrah, seriously now...”
Exasperation slips into the magician’s tone but Farrah doesn’t let it deter her.
”Valid question, Zee. The woman you’re marrying in less than seven weeks is our opponent in two weeks. You two have gone round and round before, yeah, but that was a different playground without anything to fight over. I’m just asking the shit you should be asking yourself but are afraid to.”
”No offense, but that came off pretty harsh.”
”Knew the risks when you got involved. And so did I. If you tell me that you’re prepared for any and all consequences, I’ll believe you. Because I know you’re incapable of lying about anything to anyone. So tell me, yes or no: are you ready?”
There’s little to no pause between the query and the response.
”One-hundred-and-ten-percent. I knew it would eventually come to this and here it is barely two months into our contracts. It’s as if the universe wants us to settle up immediately and is leaving the slate clean for the future. I’m ready. We’ve got this.”
She’d never admit it to Zoey, but those words took a humongous weight off Farrah’s shoulders. She sighs, albeit silently, and lets that smile back into place.
”...that’s my girl. Go tend to your lady. I’ll tend to my man. And I’ll see you in a few days at Vincenzo’s.”
”See you then.”
Ending the call, Farrah sets the phone down on the arm of the chair, closing her eyes. The sound of a door opening and closing upstairs, however, has them opening again and a wicked grin peels back her darkly-painted lips.
”Mmm… my Dark God awaits…”
She rises and heads for the steps as the scene fades to black.
”And like I told Christy Winters last time, I worked my ass off to get to where I am. In no way am I putting all of my success on James. No, what he did was offer an opportunity… a chance to see what I was made of. And I made the most of it. The crappy apartment is a memory. Weeks worth of Ramen noodles are a thing of the past. And I no longer have to schedule my life around bus routes and the charity of others. When you fight your ass off for everything you have, yeah… you learn to respect the struggle and appreciate everything you have. But it also lights a fire under you that fills you with a determination to NEVER go back. With those comes confidence. And if it weren’t for that confidence I’d never have agreed to join Zoey as a tag team and once more step into a wrestling ring.
Which means we wouldn’t have joined LAW and found ourselves fighting for the World Tag Team Championships in our third goddamn match. And I can pin all of that on one offered opportunity. HIS offered opportunity. And in return, he has my love and devotion forever. This battle with the Naughty Girls? He’s my inspiration. And suddenly I almost feel sorry for Katalina and Katie.
Almost.”
* Sunday morning, during church hours *
* Sicilian Empire Wrestling School *
* Trenton, NJ *
The hour is early but from the looks of the Boardwalk Angels currently, they beat the sun to the punch today. While most people are sleeping off last night’s partying or dragging themselves out of bed to prepare for a morning of worship before a day of sloth, Farrah, Zoey and Courtney are filling a ring at the Sicilian Empire Wrestling School, getting some private training done in preparation for their battle with the Naughty Girls at Rising Stars. At the present moment, newly-minted Courtney Steele is playing the part of referee while Farrah and Zoey spar. The differences between the two women are immediately visible even to those seeing them for the first time: Zoey is the larger of the two, while Farrah is smaller and faster. Zoey is more skilled with chaining holds and grapples while Farrah is more proficient at finding openings for strikes. In terms of pure striking power, the women are a match for one another, and their fluidity is top-notch.
Soon enough, as both expected but Courtney is slightly confused by, Farrah and Zoey began to fight more than they were wrestling. Not out of anger, mind, but when they reached a stalemate on their grappling, Farrah fell back on her black belt level aikido while Zoey dipped into her MMA training. F-Bomb’s throws and slams, half the time, saw Zoey land on her feet or roll with the impact. The other half of the time revealed the magician’s strikes and grapples being unable to contain Farrah for long. They were charging one another again when a sharp beeping came from the direction of Courtney… seemingly to the blonde’s relief. She stepped between the two heavily-perspiring females, bringing them up to a stop.
”Time, ladies! Wow… you made me tired just watching you!”
The partners exchange glances with worn smiles, with Zoey laughing softly.
”Ten minutes already? I think I’m getting old…”
”Or slow."
”Well I HAVE to slow down a little just so you can keep up!”
”Oh, so you’re the funny one now, too?!”
The two go nose-to-nose, taking their noise at the same time which makes it difficult to make out what they’re saying. The smiles, though, are obvious; neither woman is truly having a go at the other. The residual adrenaline from their spar just has them pumped up and so some good-natured shade-tossing is the result. It’s a minute before Courtney can get between them again, just for laughing too hard at their banter.
”Oh, hush, you two! I’m dyin’ over here!”
All three are laughing at this point, with Zoey going to the small cooler set in the corner of the ring, fetching two bottles of water, one of which she tosses to Farrah before taking a sip from hers. Courtney hands them a couple towels and a moment is taken for the sake of getting composed before Farrah speaks up.
”So… you think Greybeard and Tinfoil are serious? All this noise they’re talkin’ about meeting us outside the arena at Rising Stars?”
One arm folded across her bare midsection, looking utterly enticing in purple-trimmed black attire, Zoey considers the query while her finger taps idly on the bottle in her hand.
”Whether they are or not, we’ll be there waiting when they show up. We don’t run from fights. Half of me thinks they’re just trying to pump themselves up, but when it comes to their lot… taking chances is foolish.”
”That’s what I’m thinking, too.”
”Not trying to be the party pooper here, girls, but what’s the point of going at those two at all until you’re booked against them? You done proved that they don’t stack up to you. Why risk your shot at the gold by getting into a brawl with them?”
Farrah and Zoey exchange glances, letting Courtney’s words sink in for a few moments. Shrugging beautifully, Zoey smiles at her friend, canting her head to the side a bit. Farrah, swathed in both lighter and darker shades of red, drains half her water from the bottle with a relieved exhale.
”The lovely Mrs. Steele DOES make an excellent point, partner…”
”I guess so. I mean, we’ve already taken their best shot without slowing down. What’s to prove? They’re just trying to steal our shine.”
”Besides, if they’re as good as they say, we’ll be seeing them soon enough after we put down the Naughty Girls and claim the gold. Patience is, as they say, a virtue.”
Courtney, a brow raised, looks between her two dear friends. Both wear serious expressions, confusing her further. After a couple moments she folds her arms across her chest, popping out one hip in an “oh, hell no” pose and stares at both women.
”Both of y’all suck! That shit ain’t funny!”
Obviously, Farrah and Zoey think otherwise. Both burst out laughing and soon Courtney is joining in, shaking her head with mock disapproval. After composing themselves, Farrah and Zoey properly respond to Courtney’s question.
”Because a lesson needs sending to those two towheads, Court. We don't have to justify ourselves or our spot in the company to either of them or to anyone else. But LAW #58 proved that they’ll take any chance they get to get up in our grills. Think of this as a… what would you call it, Zee?”
”A preventative measure. It isn’t going to interfere with our title match. We will not allow that. But it WILL get the idiotic idea out of their heads, that being the idea of inserting themselves into our business while we tangle with the Naughty Girls.”
”And suppose Megan gets a bug up her ass about it?”
”She can talk to our lawyer. I can assure you that she’d much rather deal with us than with Miss Jordan. We’re not going to Rising Stars looking for a fight with Guilty Pleasures. We’re going prepared in case they try and bring one to us.”
”BIG goddamn emphasis on the word ‘try’.”
Coming around to their way of thinking, seemingly, Courtney shrugs off the concern and grins to the two. She doffs her referee’s shirt, tossing it to Farrah who catches it with a smile.
”Glad y’all got that settled. My turn.”
”Ten minutes. Going till pinfall, tap out or time limit. Let’s dance, Court.”
”Bring it, Zee!”
Tugging the shirt over her head, Farrah grabs up the watch and sets the timer before dropping her arm,, prompting Zoey and Courtney to clash and lock up mid-ring. We fade out on this image.
* Monday, between breakfast and lunch *
* Transcontinental Studios *
* Fort Wayne, IN *
”Back to where it all began…”
Farrah’s voice is uncharacteristically quiet and calm as she speaks, the camera opening up to a shot of her sitting in one of the leather chairs of the Transcontinental Studios sound booth. Reclining back in the chair a bit, she has her legs propped up on the counter, clothed in form-fitting denim and unstrapped suspenders, the former of which disappear into tan suede boots that come up to her knees. A cropped black top with the words “Rise Up” in elegant lettering on the front hugs her torso, showing off a few inches of defined abs and the tiny sparkle of a navel ring. Her dark, purple-streaked hair hangs loose over her shoulders as she stares straight ahead through the window, toward the microphone in the middle of the recording area.
It isn’t sadness or worry that has her looking, in a word, vulnerable right now. It is remembrance. As stated previously, this is the place where her life changed half a year ago. She takes a few moments as the pre-programmed camera takes in every breath, every shift in her expression, easing her way into a mental state that properly allows her to speak her mind.
”Right in this very room, I gave my dream an honest shot. On the urging of dear friends whose words for a few moments shut out the echoing voice of the dead bastard who would have seen them crushed, I stepped into that booth. I tore open my own soul, parted my lips and let all the love, pain, tears and torment spill into a microphone. And for the first time in my life, I felt free. Nothing else existed. Not C-Note or D-Block sitting where I’m sitting, putting forth the notes to accent my voice, not the fact that I’d spent a week’s grocery money on a dress so I wouldn’t look like a slob when I showed up for the attempt… not the hateful, grating voices swirling in my brain, telling me to walk out the way I came in. I planted myself being that microphone and the first song on my CD came to life.
Not just a song, though. Sort of a… motto for my life in general. ‘Fight Like a Lady’. Don’t let anyone drag you down to their level, don’t let anyone try to tell you who and what you are. Head up, spine straight, shoulders back. Look them in the eye, politely tell them to fuck off and if they got beef you knock their teeth down their neck. Nothing on this planet is tougher than a lady who knows who and what she is and isn’t afraid to defend that against anyone or anything. Love those who love you and show no mercy to those who would ruin that love.”
Whether she’s relating the song’s lyrics or just her thoughts on the message behind the song itself, the words are equally potent… perhaps as much so as the lady speaking them. A smile creeps into view, albeit a faint one.
”Love… yeah, I used to not give a shit about that. Not until James walked through that door…”
She jerks a thumb in the direction of the aforementioned passage.
”...and changed my damn life. Now I don’t know how I ever lived without it. I’m more confident than I ever was. My CD is mere months away from release, I’ve got an entire division under me putting work into what will be an amazing television show and I’m side by side with two of my best friends as a professional wrestler. And not two months into this new stage of my life, Zoey and I are fighting for the tag team gold, something neither of us have held in our careers. It’s a shame that we gotta fight friends to do it, but that’s how the wrestling business goes. I’ve not been a competitor long, but I’ve been around it for quite a while through Zoey and James, and I’ve made plenty of observations that have proven true since I tossed my hat in the ring.”
Swinging her legs off the table, Farrah leans forward with her elbows on her knees, her chin resting on her fists as she stares at the counter. An unmarked CD in a pink jewel case rests before her and the sight of it makes her eyes sparkle in the manner of someone who’s holding back tears. One sniff later, though, and she’s mentally brushed them away.
Doesn’t stop her staring for a little longer, though.
”I think pretty highly of Katalina Star, enough that I call her friend. She and I have plenty in common, some of it being through situations that are better off not discussed. The point is… I get her. There’s a reason she’s been one-half of the tag team champions with Katie Klein for as long as they have. Those women go out and get what they want, taking if they have to and fighting their asses off to keep it. All the people talking about a lack of competition for the Naughty Girls? I don’t claim to know anything about that. I see champions that have reigned for close to six months. I see a team that has beaten damn near everyone put in front of them. And that’s what I concern myself with. Not two women who have somehow skated to a long title reign through made-up tackling dummies, not two women who have thrived through a lack of competition. Two women who are champions.
Two women who are in our way.
Katie? I don’t know her as well as Katalina. I know she gets a rise out of fucking with people and hey, more power to her. But what she’s got to realize is that you don’t rattle people like myself and Zoey. Think on where we grew up and what we fought through to get to this point in our lives; do you really think some hyped-up slave trying to grind on us and lick our faces is gonna make the Boardwalk Angels pause? I’m sure Katie will enjoy herself trying, and that Kat will get a giggle out of it while she’s waiting on a tag, but the moment Katie turns back around after making a sexual predator out of herself? That’s when Zee or myself, as the case may be, will put her on her face in a way she won’t find nearly as appealing or comfortable.”
She turns her head, winking at the camera with a little grin.
”But by all means, Klein: try. Treat us like we’re a joke or, better yet, a vector for your chosen perversions. The kind of attitude that you two have had in that regard through your reign as champions will be the fastest road to take at Rising Stars if you want to kiss those straps good-bye. Let me repeat myself: we’re all friends here. We’ll be tight before the match and we’ll still be tight after. But between the bells, I’m going to beat you two like you stole money from me and called my dog a bitch. Might have to buy you a few drinks after the show to smooth things over, but hey… that’s wrestling for you.”
Getting to her feet, the lowered suspenders dancing about as she moves, Farrah walks through the door and into the studio proper. She looks around with a serene expression, her fingertips sliding down the shape of the microphone with the gentleness of a lover.
”Tough as I’m talking though, and you can bet your heart-shaped asses that I believe in and will prove every word of that, I respect the fact that you two are far more experienced than myself and Zoey as well. Not just as a team, not just as champions, but all around. Chemistry and life-long friendship are what helped bring Zee and myself to this point, with our in-ring synergy being built more and more as time goes on. Two matches in and we’re already facing the champs, which means we’re doing something right. But you two are on another level and I’m fully cognizant of that. Part of that comes from the utter trust that Katie has in you, Katalina. What did you call her? Your primary?”
Farrah considers this for a moment, searching through faint memories before shrugging her shoulders and chuckling.
”I’m sure it was something like that. But the point is made: Katie lives for your direction. She looks up to you and fights her tail off for you. Your word is her law. And you lead by example, ensuring that she follows in your step. Zee and I have chemistry, but it’s nowhere near that defined. We’re friends and we always have one another’s backs. You two have turned a relationship most of the world frowns on and gets all the wrong ideas about into something that has earned you fame and more than a little notoriety. It’s something I gotta give props for.
But neither of you are fighters. I don’t mean in terms of life, but in terms of combat sports. Both of you are good wrestlers. You’d have to be to become champions. But fighters? That you ain’t. Zoey and I on the other hand… we hit hard and fast. We can take it AND dish it out. If you don’t believe us, ask Greybeard and Tinfoil. They took their best shot at LAW #56 and had to attack with a weapon to not end up on their backs for a three-count. They tried again at LAW #57 and we stood toe-to-toe after they came out swinging furniture. The fact that they still want a piece of us only tells me that they’re masochists.
The bottom line is that if push comes to shove, you two are going to get hurt. I said that Katie’s ‘strategies’ wouldn’t rattle us, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t capable of pissing us off. And if she does, we’re going to make her scream in ways Chastity wishes she could. And when it comes to you, Katalina? Well, I don’t think you’d go as far as Klein, but if you do… I’m sure Zee will know how to handle that. Catherine, after all, has done her a world of good.”
The smile turns into a grin, a wicked one, that lingers a bit as Farrah pauses to choose her words. Taking a familiar remote from her pocket she adjusts the camera a bit to keep it centered on her as she moves out of the studio.
”That’s the crazy part of this deal, though: the relationship between Zee and Katalina. My girl assures me that she’s ready to go all-out without reservation and I believe her… but I wonder if Katalina herself is ready for that. I’m not going to put words into either woman’s mouth, but wrestling isn’t known for being all that helpful toward relationships. There’s plenty of exceptions, though, and all three of the Boardwalk Angels represent one such example. I’d rather not see their engagement become a casualty, but I’ll be damned if I let the thought keep me from becoming a champion. That’s something you’re gonna have to ask yourself, Kat: are you prepared for every consequence? How much do the titles mean to you? Anything can happen in wrestling after all, and you’re an intelligent woman. Like I said: I don’t believe there’s anything in existence that can separate you two, but that doesn’t make it impossible.”
Letting that thought hang in the air, Farrah takes down a suede leather jacket from the rack near the door, the same color as her boots and lined with faux fur against the winter air.
”Kate seems more antsy than you, though. Stressed would maybe be a better word, though. But I also look at it as her having the right attitude. You two haven’t lost a tag match in some time and that means something. Hell, it’s part of the reason that I don’t listen to the b.s. concerning you two getting an easy ride as champs. There IS a line, though, and Katie sounds like she face-planted into it. I hold to the fact that there ain’t no hard feelings between us and yourselves, but what I say next? It’s gotta be said.”
The coat is draped over her arm, forgotten for the moment.
”So you’re not scared. Good on you. Tell me this, Katie: does it look like I personally give a fuck whether you’re scared or not? You’re trying to start drama where there is none and, hey, if that works for you then so be it. But recall my words: I respect your accomplishments. I hold to that. But what it DOESN’T mean is that I buy your hype. You’re due a beating in that ring and the Angels WILL deliver. And we WILL take your pretty gold belts in the process. No amount of threats on your part or downplaying our right to this match will change that. And unlike you, we’re not going to make this personal. You got some bug up your ass about Katalina and Zoey being engaged? Sounds like jealousy to me. Guess it’s easier to put something EVERYONE ALREADY KNOWS ABOUT on blast than it is to handle yourself like a lady and air your problems with that situation to the people whom it concerns in private, huh?
And yeah, I heard you single me out for ‘special attention’. Oh, sugar-tits, you just got no idea who you’re fooling with, do you? Zee? She’d laugh you out of your collar for trying to call her out… and then choke you out with it just for your bitch-made comments about her relationship. In other words, you’d get off light. Me? I don’t swing the same way you do and I’m not as forgiving as Zee. If you come up rubbing your crotch on me I’m going to put my foot so far up your baby-maker that you’re gonna look like the world’s horniest hand puppet. I’ll knock your head so far off your neck you’ll look like a goddamn rock ‘em-sock ‘em robot. Getting the picture, Klein? I suggest you stick to wrestling and keep your urges in the locker room with your chained-up manager. Otherwise there won’t be anything left of you for Katalina to punish after I beat half the life out of you.”
Licking her lips, Farrah half-glowers, half-grins into the camera. Katie had riled her a bit and while she’s quick to get back on-point, she savors the fire just a bit before going on.
”We’re determined, Naughty Girls. That should have been clear from the get. For all the back and forth with Guilty Pleasures and around all the drama with Megan Helms-King and our families, Zee and I know what stands before us and we haven’t lost focus for a moment. Because, in the end, it’s all about being tag team champions. And no one… NO ONE… wants to be champions more than Zoey and I. That justification for all the hell we’ve marched through and the hours upon days upon months of hard work we’ve accomplished to make ourselves ready for this ultimate moment when we can hold the belts high and have our names announced as the NEW LAW World Tag Team Champions. We want it more than anything.
That’s what all this boils down to. Not relationship squabbles or family drama. Not bitches in need of a lesson through beat down or who’s marrying who. It’s about who’s going to be the champions when Rising Stars goes in the books. And that WILL be the Boardwalk Angels. We won’t be out-wrestled and we damn sure won’t be out-fought. Katie, you’re going to kiss fist, foot and mat until you beg off like we’re the ones holding your leash. Katalina, you’re going to get put on your knees, then on your back, over and over again until you have the good sense to surrender. Zee and I… we’re due. And at Rising Stars the wait is over.”
Farrah turns her back for a moment to put on her jacket, the back of the shirt displaying the Boardwalk Angels logo as seen during her previous promo, a sash at the bottom reading “Get Ready to Fly”. Then the jacket is slid on, covering it. Flipping her hair from under it, Farrah turns and slides on a pair of dark shades as she stares into the camera.
”And, again, drinks are on us after the show. It’s the least we can do. Till then, ladies… get ready to fly.”
Giving the camera a little salute-like wave with two fingers, Farrah shuts the device off, bringing the promo to a close.