Post by Samantha Tolson on Oct 7, 2017 21:54:12 GMT -5
Writer's Note: The dream sequence is heavy, heavy stuff, and insinuates a lot. Remember that it's happening in Sam's dreams, and didn't happen to her in 'reality' when reading. But it does kick off something I'm hoping to do in future LAW RPs, as this seems the best forum in which to do it.
--OFF-camera--
Samantha Tolson swam the length of her pool, the long, wide Olympic-sized one behind her Las Vegas home. True, she had wanted the pool partly for pleasure and fun, but the main reason she wanted it was this. The lap swimming, when done as she'd been shown by a swimming coach of some note, helped to expand her lung capacity, in turn increasing her stamina slowly but surely.
Samantha wasn't easily tired as is, but any edge she could gain, any little advantage she could take legally, was one more weapon in her already considerable arsenal. She knew she'd need that against Roxy Cotton, a woman hell-bent on taking her Chaos Championship from her in Minneapolis.
She kept her face buried in the water, the long, smooth strokes powering her across the length of the pool. First one arm, then the other, pushing against the water to propel herself along the top of the water, keeping her face in the water, fighting off the urge to turn her head to the side for a breath, forcing her lungs to hold on for dear life as she continued to glide along the surface. She felt the edge of the pool against an outstretched hand and came up for air, breathing hard for a count of ten, then turning around and swimming back to the other end.
She kept her face in the water once again, forcing her body to work against the lack of oxygen, maintaining her pace despite the burning in her arms and legs, continuing down the water's surface against the fire in her chest, pushing herself forward when a normal person would stop and breathe. Arms reached forward, then pushed backward, moving her toward the end, and when her hand again touched the tile at the other end, she stood up and drew in a long, loud gasp of air. She caught as much air as she could, counting to ten, then turned and buried herself into the water once more, working toward the other side.
Her lungs again burned, her arms began to feel heavy, her legs faltered as they kicked, not generating the push they had at the beginning. Still she kept on, forcing her tired arms to continue, willing her legs to keep thrashing at the water until she'd again touched the opposite end of the pool. She raised her head out of the water again, an audible gasp echoing against the privacy fence ringing her back yard. The air rushed into her lungs, nearly overtaking her in its speed and power, inflating her lungs again as her heart pumped wildly, forcing blood into the lungs for new oxygen.
She slowly used the steps to climb out of the pool, grabbing her towel and wiping the water off her face, then using it to sponge as much water from her hair as she could before sitting down and allowing her breathing to return to normal. She slowly padded in her bare feet into her home, sliding closed the large glass patio door and into the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cupboard. She walked to her refrigerator, pressing it against the ice lever, then filling it with water from the spigot next to it. She took a long, slow drink, draining the glass, then re-filled the glass again.
It was when she sat down on her couch that Luke and Leia, her adopted husky puppies, came bounding up to her, both wagging their tails and hopping on their front paws. At just ten months old, neither was quite strong enough to leap onto the couch with her, so Samantha leaned down and pulled Leia, the gray puppy, up on her left side, then leaned down and lifter her brother Luke, with black markings, up on her right. She took the remote from the coffee table in front of her and lowered the massive white screen embedded in the ceiling, then pulled up the menu of her television service. A few moments later, she'd settled on a marathon of "Guy's Grocery Games" on Food Network as she leaned back, relaxing. One hand softly stroked Luke, the other Leia, both of whom had laid their heads in her lap.
It wasn't long, after Guy Fieri had begun talking to someone in Arizona about their old-school Italian eatery, that she dozed off into a nap.
Samantha Tolson felt the leaves crackle and the twigs snap under her bare feet as she ran, nothing more than a torn, ratty sheet between her and the cool of a late fall afternoon. Her arms held it around her, albeit poorly, as she ran, her brunette locks a disheveled mess, bruises on her face and arms, a bright red welt on her left buttcheek, poorly covered as she made her escape.
"GIT back'ere you bitch! We ain' done wit'cha yet!"
"Wharr she go?"
"Dunno...off'n that direc'shun it sound like."
A gunshot rang out as she continued, and she ducked behind a large tree. Where was she? Who had taken her? All she could remember when she had woken up was two men laughing and drinking beer, their pants around their knees, as another was climbing onto a large wooden table. He had her legs in the air, his own pants down, his breath nasty and hot against her skin. It was the drool, slopping down onto her face that had roused her from her slumber, and with the headache in her head, she was sure that it had been induced. She'd kicked the one on the table in the head, and when he reared up to strike her, she caught his arm and slung him off the table at the feet of the other two.
She had scrambled to her feet, noticing the marks on her body where they'd abused her, burns, cuts, bruises...they littered her naked frame. She grabbed the first thing she could find to cover herself, the sheet she now had somewhat around her, lying on the back of the ramshackle couch, then wrapped it around herself and ran out of the door of the place. Was it a cabin? A home? A trailer? She didn't know, and she didn't care. The only thing she wanted to do was get back to civilization.
She tried to catch her breath, gulping to try and moisten her throat, feeling the pounding in her head, but knew she couldn't stop, couldn't rest. Their feet made heavy noises on the twigs and leaves, giving her some sense of how close they were. She looked at the base of the tree, looking for the moss to point her north, and quickly jetted off in that direction. She heard a shotgun reload, and in a moment another shot rang out, striking the tree behind her where her chest had just passed by.
"Dammit....don' kill'er!"
"Yeah...she a feisty one! We gotta have more fun'ith 'er!"
Samantha ran to the north, hoping and praying that she would run into someone, or that she'd find road. She didn't care if it was gravel or paved, but a road would lead to a home, and a home would likely lead to safety. Samantha felt a weird burning sensation in her genitalia, one she'd never felt before, and tears began to trail down her face, not knowing what the three men had done with her....done to her...while she'd been knocked out.
But none of that mattered right now. What mattered was escape. Freedom. Finding somewhere she could call the authorities in the area.
So on she ran.
Samantha twitched and shook slightly as the dream went on, the puppies each looking up at her with each movement, then lying their heads back on her lap when she was again still.
Another shot rang out, but Samantha couldn't hear this one find a home, so on she ran, through the sticks and the weeds, into the brambles and the leaves, her feet beginning to hurt like something was pounding on them from the undersides with each step. She could feel the tiny cuts on her soles, but knew she couldn't stop as yet another gunshot echoed in the air.
Eventually the lack of oxygen in her blood got to her, and her run slowed to a walk. She found a tree, gasping loudly, her breath coming in loud, long gulps of air. She knew she was likely giving away her position, but she also knew that without a moment's rest, it wouldn't be long before the sheer chemical reactions in her muscles would render her unable to continue. As it was, her arms were sore and heavy, and her legs felt like lead.
She gulped in as much air as she'd dared, then again began to jog to the north. Just ahead, she saw an open space at the edge of some trees, and her heart jumped.
"Gotta git'er before she gits inna cleer boys!"
"She gits outta th'trees she gone!"
"Hurry ya fools! Thurr's a road up'head pass the treeline!"
Samantha heard the men's chatter, and it gave her a renewed determination. She tried her best to run as fast as she could, her heavy legs forcing her bleeding feet in front of her one at a time. She got close to the treeline, about fifty or so yards away, and another gunshot rang out. She felt something ping itself against her right buttcheek, and she yelped in pain, but knew if she stopped now she was done for.
She willed herself forward, touching her bottom and feeling the blood coming from two holes. Buckshot had grazed her, she guessed, but onward she plunged.
Forty yards.
Thirty yards. Another gunshot.
Twenty yards.
Ten yards now. She could see the last glimmers of daylight beginning to fade beyond the trees, as yet another gunshot crackled through the woods. She felt the wooden shrapnel of an exploding tree embed slivers deep into her left side.
Five....four...three...two...one....
....daylight, or at least as much of it as there was left.
A few more yards ahead, a paved road rose up on the top of a small hill. Samantha ran for it, then felt one of her legs buckle beneath her. She began to crawl, leaving the sheet behind on the ground, abandoning all pretense of humility, digging into the earth with her hands as she slowly but surely ascended toward the pavement. She finally reached the edge of the road, feeling the gravel of the roadside cut and scar her palms, but she crawled into it anyway, forcing herself to stand.
Naked, alone, injured, bleeding.
Samantha Tolson stood on the side of the road, hoping someone, anyone would come along. She looked to her left, then her right, hoping to see some measure of a town or at least a farm home, but there was nothing but land in both directions. She decided to go to her left, the theory of walking along a road against traffic somehow recalled from her childhood days.
Samantha's face became wet with tears, her body reacting physically to the dream being played out inside her mind. Luke and Leia both stood, watching their beloved as the dream continued.
Samantha padded along, her throat burning, her legs and arms extremely heavy, her head still pounding. Her steps were not those of a confident championship-caliber wrestler, but weak and staggered, almost as if she were drunk. The sun had set, and the cool fall night air caused her to shiver, adding to the blood and the welt and the cuts and bruises. She saw headlights up ahead coming toward her, and she stepped out into the middle of the road, waving her arms as best she could, looking something akin to a desperate Tyrannosaurus Rex in her weakness.
An old brown Dodge rumbled up, slowing as it approached her. A short, portly woman with grey hair and a was of chewing tobacco in her cheek stopped the truck and came out from behind the wheel, bumbling her way over to her as Samantha put her hands on the hood for support.
"Child! You're gonna catch the death of ya if'n ya don' get som'thin' on that body'a yours! C'mon, honey..."
The woman noticed Samantha's condition in the headlights as she helped usher her to the passenger door of the old Dodge.
"Ho-lee Mother'a God! You're hurt som'thin' fierce! We gotta get'ya t'the hospit'l pronto!"
Samantha felt herself being shoved, roughly, onto the bench seat of the old truck, and the slamming of the door rang in her ears, making her head pound yet again. The woman made her way back into the driver's seat, slamming shut her door and throwing the truck in gear.
It was then that Samantha let her head loll against the back of the seat, feeling something wet on both her cheeks.
Samantha Tolson woke up from her nightmare with a start, opening her eyes fearfully to find both Luke and Leia licking her cheeks. Her breathing slowed, and she gently rubbed the fur of her fur babies, allowing them to love on her as she sighed.
--ON-camera--
Samantha Tolson sat on the couch of her Las Vegas home, still in her swimsuit after a workout in her pool. Her hair clung to her head, still somewhat wet, as she slowly stroked the fur of Luke and Leia, her husky puppies she'd recently adopted.
"Fear. Fear makes us do interesting things sometimes. They say a little fear is actually a good thing, that it means you don't take certain areas of your life for granted. Take, for example, this match I have coming up against Roxy Cotton. Now, she'll tell anyone who listens to her that I've been scared of her from the day she sent her first Tweet at me on Twitter."
Samantha scoffs slightly.
"That's not in the least true, but I'll allow her to retain her delusions. I mean, when it comes down to it, delusions about how this match will go are all she has, really. Delusions that she's good enough to beat me on her own. Delusions that she's actually championship material. Delusions that....and yeah, let's knock down that low hanging fruit and get it out of the way....she's not some slut, running around the world having sex with any woman that'll allow her to put that cesspool of a mouth between their legs."
"Don't get me wrong, I'm not exactly a saint when it comes to physical relations. I'll own it. But our fair Roxy pretends to hold a shred of dignity and decency, yet on the sly will try and whore out her friends for a quick buck."
"Angelica Vaughan? How ya doin' kid?"
"She wants to call me to the carpet for all sorts of duplicity, yet there's not a more duplicitous bitch in all of professional wrestling than Roxy. So, since she wants to continue to spread some lies about me, and what I think, let's just allay all of those."
"Kid, I'm glad you didn't get hurt. I'm glad you have been injury-free heading into this match. I'm also quite glad that you've found some success on the football field, because let's just call a spade a spade here. As a wrestler? You just don't cut it."
"The only reason you even have this match against me is because I want YOU in the ring. Has nothing to do with your skill, your record, your purchased looks....no, Roxy, you got this match because I WANTED IT."
"Of course, I'd demanded it be inside the Devil's Playground, but, sometimes, you have to settle."
"So I'll settle for beating your ass black and blue in a defense of MY Chaos Championship."
"You know, Roxy...the belt where the only rule is no disqualification? The one title in LAW where you can virtually guarantee that weapons are going to get used, people are going to bleed, and the fans are going to go nuts for the violence they know they're going to see?"
"From the get-go, child, you've vastly underestimated me. No, I haven't defended this title in over five months. I can't help that. If you remember, I offered a title shot to your little friend, Angelica, but she turned it down. You act as if I haven't asked to be an active champion. I have. But unlike people like you, I won't trumpet that to the world. I asked, the defenses weren't scheduled. Past that, I have no other recourse."
"But that doesn't matter to someone like you, someone who can only pick the low hanging fruit."
"You've insulted my championship."
"You've insulted my personal life."
"You've even tried to insult anything and everything else about me you can, but the one thing you don't question? The one thing you know you can't touch?"
"My ability. My skill. My heart, and my determination."
"Because face it, Roxy, the low hanging fruit is the only fruit you can eat here. It's all you have. You can question me personally all you want....hell, even I question my own personal life once in a while....but when it comes to being in the ring? When it comes to that moment when the lights are hot and the crowd watches with anticipation?"
"That where I have you outclassed in every single possible way. I'm stronger, I'm faster, and I'm better than you will ever, ever be."
"I know you think you can succeed where your cronies have failed. You can do what Kenzi could not do alone, what Sarah could not do, even after she laid out the challenge. What Angelica could not do, even after scoffing at the championship I hold. And what Sativa could not do just a few nights ago, after insisting that a previous win over her was tainted due to circumstances out of both of our control."
Samantha grins, still stroking the soft fur of her fur babies.
"So what will be your excuse, Roxy? I know you'll be full of them. What will you say when you lose your first title opportunity to someone who's well-versed in defending her championships? Will it be that you didn't know the rules? That I somehow cheated? That you weren't ready?"
"You'll never be ready for me. Not now, not in Minneapolis, and not ever."
"You're outgunned. You're outclassed. About to be out-thought and out-manuevered."
"You're little more than a petulant child, throwing temper tantrums until you get your way. But see...while that GOT you to a title match, it certainly isn't going to do a damn thing to WIN the title for you."
"To do that, Roxy, you have to go through me. You have to go through someone who has way more experience, way more talent, and more drive and determination than you can ever muster."
"When you hit me with that chair...you played your card. But see, instead of fear from me...what you did was engender anger. Remember the look on your face when I threw that lead pipe into the back window of your limo that night? I do. And you knew."
"You knew in that moment, Roxy, you'd bitten off way more than you can chew."
"So come to Minneapolis, Botox Barbie. Come with all your hatred, all your plans, and all your desires for the belt."
"I'm coming too, but the difference between you and I is clear, it is obvious, and it is nearly painful."
"You have all these ideas, all these plans."
"Me? I'm just planning on beating you within an inch of your pathetic life, then standing over your bloody, broken carcass, holding my Chaos Championship after another successful defense."
"Then? You go to the bottom of the pile. Right where you belong."
"Because you're nothing more than bottom feeding trash, trying to make a name for herself at my expense."
"And I'll be DAMNED if that's going to happen."
"See you in the Twin Cities, Barbie."
"Hopefully, Ken has the budget camper ready to tote your carcass out of Minnesota."
"Because when the match is over....you're going to hear something that makes you scared, something that fills you with fear and loathing."
"And still....the LAW Chaos Champion...."
"Samantha Tolson."
"Fucking bank on that shit, bitch."
Samantha stands and pats her hip, watching her puppies flop off the couch and follow her out of sight.
--OFF-camera--
Samantha Tolson swam the length of her pool, the long, wide Olympic-sized one behind her Las Vegas home. True, she had wanted the pool partly for pleasure and fun, but the main reason she wanted it was this. The lap swimming, when done as she'd been shown by a swimming coach of some note, helped to expand her lung capacity, in turn increasing her stamina slowly but surely.
Samantha wasn't easily tired as is, but any edge she could gain, any little advantage she could take legally, was one more weapon in her already considerable arsenal. She knew she'd need that against Roxy Cotton, a woman hell-bent on taking her Chaos Championship from her in Minneapolis.
She kept her face buried in the water, the long, smooth strokes powering her across the length of the pool. First one arm, then the other, pushing against the water to propel herself along the top of the water, keeping her face in the water, fighting off the urge to turn her head to the side for a breath, forcing her lungs to hold on for dear life as she continued to glide along the surface. She felt the edge of the pool against an outstretched hand and came up for air, breathing hard for a count of ten, then turning around and swimming back to the other end.
She kept her face in the water once again, forcing her body to work against the lack of oxygen, maintaining her pace despite the burning in her arms and legs, continuing down the water's surface against the fire in her chest, pushing herself forward when a normal person would stop and breathe. Arms reached forward, then pushed backward, moving her toward the end, and when her hand again touched the tile at the other end, she stood up and drew in a long, loud gasp of air. She caught as much air as she could, counting to ten, then turned and buried herself into the water once more, working toward the other side.
Her lungs again burned, her arms began to feel heavy, her legs faltered as they kicked, not generating the push they had at the beginning. Still she kept on, forcing her tired arms to continue, willing her legs to keep thrashing at the water until she'd again touched the opposite end of the pool. She raised her head out of the water again, an audible gasp echoing against the privacy fence ringing her back yard. The air rushed into her lungs, nearly overtaking her in its speed and power, inflating her lungs again as her heart pumped wildly, forcing blood into the lungs for new oxygen.
She slowly used the steps to climb out of the pool, grabbing her towel and wiping the water off her face, then using it to sponge as much water from her hair as she could before sitting down and allowing her breathing to return to normal. She slowly padded in her bare feet into her home, sliding closed the large glass patio door and into the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cupboard. She walked to her refrigerator, pressing it against the ice lever, then filling it with water from the spigot next to it. She took a long, slow drink, draining the glass, then re-filled the glass again.
It was when she sat down on her couch that Luke and Leia, her adopted husky puppies, came bounding up to her, both wagging their tails and hopping on their front paws. At just ten months old, neither was quite strong enough to leap onto the couch with her, so Samantha leaned down and pulled Leia, the gray puppy, up on her left side, then leaned down and lifter her brother Luke, with black markings, up on her right. She took the remote from the coffee table in front of her and lowered the massive white screen embedded in the ceiling, then pulled up the menu of her television service. A few moments later, she'd settled on a marathon of "Guy's Grocery Games" on Food Network as she leaned back, relaxing. One hand softly stroked Luke, the other Leia, both of whom had laid their heads in her lap.
It wasn't long, after Guy Fieri had begun talking to someone in Arizona about their old-school Italian eatery, that she dozed off into a nap.
Samantha Tolson felt the leaves crackle and the twigs snap under her bare feet as she ran, nothing more than a torn, ratty sheet between her and the cool of a late fall afternoon. Her arms held it around her, albeit poorly, as she ran, her brunette locks a disheveled mess, bruises on her face and arms, a bright red welt on her left buttcheek, poorly covered as she made her escape.
"GIT back'ere you bitch! We ain' done wit'cha yet!"
"Wharr she go?"
"Dunno...off'n that direc'shun it sound like."
A gunshot rang out as she continued, and she ducked behind a large tree. Where was she? Who had taken her? All she could remember when she had woken up was two men laughing and drinking beer, their pants around their knees, as another was climbing onto a large wooden table. He had her legs in the air, his own pants down, his breath nasty and hot against her skin. It was the drool, slopping down onto her face that had roused her from her slumber, and with the headache in her head, she was sure that it had been induced. She'd kicked the one on the table in the head, and when he reared up to strike her, she caught his arm and slung him off the table at the feet of the other two.
She had scrambled to her feet, noticing the marks on her body where they'd abused her, burns, cuts, bruises...they littered her naked frame. She grabbed the first thing she could find to cover herself, the sheet she now had somewhat around her, lying on the back of the ramshackle couch, then wrapped it around herself and ran out of the door of the place. Was it a cabin? A home? A trailer? She didn't know, and she didn't care. The only thing she wanted to do was get back to civilization.
She tried to catch her breath, gulping to try and moisten her throat, feeling the pounding in her head, but knew she couldn't stop, couldn't rest. Their feet made heavy noises on the twigs and leaves, giving her some sense of how close they were. She looked at the base of the tree, looking for the moss to point her north, and quickly jetted off in that direction. She heard a shotgun reload, and in a moment another shot rang out, striking the tree behind her where her chest had just passed by.
"Dammit....don' kill'er!"
"Yeah...she a feisty one! We gotta have more fun'ith 'er!"
Samantha ran to the north, hoping and praying that she would run into someone, or that she'd find road. She didn't care if it was gravel or paved, but a road would lead to a home, and a home would likely lead to safety. Samantha felt a weird burning sensation in her genitalia, one she'd never felt before, and tears began to trail down her face, not knowing what the three men had done with her....done to her...while she'd been knocked out.
But none of that mattered right now. What mattered was escape. Freedom. Finding somewhere she could call the authorities in the area.
So on she ran.
Samantha twitched and shook slightly as the dream went on, the puppies each looking up at her with each movement, then lying their heads back on her lap when she was again still.
Another shot rang out, but Samantha couldn't hear this one find a home, so on she ran, through the sticks and the weeds, into the brambles and the leaves, her feet beginning to hurt like something was pounding on them from the undersides with each step. She could feel the tiny cuts on her soles, but knew she couldn't stop as yet another gunshot echoed in the air.
Eventually the lack of oxygen in her blood got to her, and her run slowed to a walk. She found a tree, gasping loudly, her breath coming in loud, long gulps of air. She knew she was likely giving away her position, but she also knew that without a moment's rest, it wouldn't be long before the sheer chemical reactions in her muscles would render her unable to continue. As it was, her arms were sore and heavy, and her legs felt like lead.
She gulped in as much air as she'd dared, then again began to jog to the north. Just ahead, she saw an open space at the edge of some trees, and her heart jumped.
"Gotta git'er before she gits inna cleer boys!"
"She gits outta th'trees she gone!"
"Hurry ya fools! Thurr's a road up'head pass the treeline!"
Samantha heard the men's chatter, and it gave her a renewed determination. She tried her best to run as fast as she could, her heavy legs forcing her bleeding feet in front of her one at a time. She got close to the treeline, about fifty or so yards away, and another gunshot rang out. She felt something ping itself against her right buttcheek, and she yelped in pain, but knew if she stopped now she was done for.
She willed herself forward, touching her bottom and feeling the blood coming from two holes. Buckshot had grazed her, she guessed, but onward she plunged.
Forty yards.
Thirty yards. Another gunshot.
Twenty yards.
Ten yards now. She could see the last glimmers of daylight beginning to fade beyond the trees, as yet another gunshot crackled through the woods. She felt the wooden shrapnel of an exploding tree embed slivers deep into her left side.
Five....four...three...two...one....
....daylight, or at least as much of it as there was left.
A few more yards ahead, a paved road rose up on the top of a small hill. Samantha ran for it, then felt one of her legs buckle beneath her. She began to crawl, leaving the sheet behind on the ground, abandoning all pretense of humility, digging into the earth with her hands as she slowly but surely ascended toward the pavement. She finally reached the edge of the road, feeling the gravel of the roadside cut and scar her palms, but she crawled into it anyway, forcing herself to stand.
Naked, alone, injured, bleeding.
Samantha Tolson stood on the side of the road, hoping someone, anyone would come along. She looked to her left, then her right, hoping to see some measure of a town or at least a farm home, but there was nothing but land in both directions. She decided to go to her left, the theory of walking along a road against traffic somehow recalled from her childhood days.
Samantha's face became wet with tears, her body reacting physically to the dream being played out inside her mind. Luke and Leia both stood, watching their beloved as the dream continued.
Samantha padded along, her throat burning, her legs and arms extremely heavy, her head still pounding. Her steps were not those of a confident championship-caliber wrestler, but weak and staggered, almost as if she were drunk. The sun had set, and the cool fall night air caused her to shiver, adding to the blood and the welt and the cuts and bruises. She saw headlights up ahead coming toward her, and she stepped out into the middle of the road, waving her arms as best she could, looking something akin to a desperate Tyrannosaurus Rex in her weakness.
An old brown Dodge rumbled up, slowing as it approached her. A short, portly woman with grey hair and a was of chewing tobacco in her cheek stopped the truck and came out from behind the wheel, bumbling her way over to her as Samantha put her hands on the hood for support.
"Child! You're gonna catch the death of ya if'n ya don' get som'thin' on that body'a yours! C'mon, honey..."
The woman noticed Samantha's condition in the headlights as she helped usher her to the passenger door of the old Dodge.
"Ho-lee Mother'a God! You're hurt som'thin' fierce! We gotta get'ya t'the hospit'l pronto!"
Samantha felt herself being shoved, roughly, onto the bench seat of the old truck, and the slamming of the door rang in her ears, making her head pound yet again. The woman made her way back into the driver's seat, slamming shut her door and throwing the truck in gear.
It was then that Samantha let her head loll against the back of the seat, feeling something wet on both her cheeks.
Samantha Tolson woke up from her nightmare with a start, opening her eyes fearfully to find both Luke and Leia licking her cheeks. Her breathing slowed, and she gently rubbed the fur of her fur babies, allowing them to love on her as she sighed.
--ON-camera--
Samantha Tolson sat on the couch of her Las Vegas home, still in her swimsuit after a workout in her pool. Her hair clung to her head, still somewhat wet, as she slowly stroked the fur of Luke and Leia, her husky puppies she'd recently adopted.
"Fear. Fear makes us do interesting things sometimes. They say a little fear is actually a good thing, that it means you don't take certain areas of your life for granted. Take, for example, this match I have coming up against Roxy Cotton. Now, she'll tell anyone who listens to her that I've been scared of her from the day she sent her first Tweet at me on Twitter."
Samantha scoffs slightly.
"That's not in the least true, but I'll allow her to retain her delusions. I mean, when it comes down to it, delusions about how this match will go are all she has, really. Delusions that she's good enough to beat me on her own. Delusions that she's actually championship material. Delusions that....and yeah, let's knock down that low hanging fruit and get it out of the way....she's not some slut, running around the world having sex with any woman that'll allow her to put that cesspool of a mouth between their legs."
"Don't get me wrong, I'm not exactly a saint when it comes to physical relations. I'll own it. But our fair Roxy pretends to hold a shred of dignity and decency, yet on the sly will try and whore out her friends for a quick buck."
"Angelica Vaughan? How ya doin' kid?"
"She wants to call me to the carpet for all sorts of duplicity, yet there's not a more duplicitous bitch in all of professional wrestling than Roxy. So, since she wants to continue to spread some lies about me, and what I think, let's just allay all of those."
"Kid, I'm glad you didn't get hurt. I'm glad you have been injury-free heading into this match. I'm also quite glad that you've found some success on the football field, because let's just call a spade a spade here. As a wrestler? You just don't cut it."
"The only reason you even have this match against me is because I want YOU in the ring. Has nothing to do with your skill, your record, your purchased looks....no, Roxy, you got this match because I WANTED IT."
"Of course, I'd demanded it be inside the Devil's Playground, but, sometimes, you have to settle."
"So I'll settle for beating your ass black and blue in a defense of MY Chaos Championship."
"You know, Roxy...the belt where the only rule is no disqualification? The one title in LAW where you can virtually guarantee that weapons are going to get used, people are going to bleed, and the fans are going to go nuts for the violence they know they're going to see?"
"From the get-go, child, you've vastly underestimated me. No, I haven't defended this title in over five months. I can't help that. If you remember, I offered a title shot to your little friend, Angelica, but she turned it down. You act as if I haven't asked to be an active champion. I have. But unlike people like you, I won't trumpet that to the world. I asked, the defenses weren't scheduled. Past that, I have no other recourse."
"But that doesn't matter to someone like you, someone who can only pick the low hanging fruit."
"You've insulted my championship."
"You've insulted my personal life."
"You've even tried to insult anything and everything else about me you can, but the one thing you don't question? The one thing you know you can't touch?"
"My ability. My skill. My heart, and my determination."
"Because face it, Roxy, the low hanging fruit is the only fruit you can eat here. It's all you have. You can question me personally all you want....hell, even I question my own personal life once in a while....but when it comes to being in the ring? When it comes to that moment when the lights are hot and the crowd watches with anticipation?"
"That where I have you outclassed in every single possible way. I'm stronger, I'm faster, and I'm better than you will ever, ever be."
"I know you think you can succeed where your cronies have failed. You can do what Kenzi could not do alone, what Sarah could not do, even after she laid out the challenge. What Angelica could not do, even after scoffing at the championship I hold. And what Sativa could not do just a few nights ago, after insisting that a previous win over her was tainted due to circumstances out of both of our control."
Samantha grins, still stroking the soft fur of her fur babies.
"So what will be your excuse, Roxy? I know you'll be full of them. What will you say when you lose your first title opportunity to someone who's well-versed in defending her championships? Will it be that you didn't know the rules? That I somehow cheated? That you weren't ready?"
"You'll never be ready for me. Not now, not in Minneapolis, and not ever."
"You're outgunned. You're outclassed. About to be out-thought and out-manuevered."
"You're little more than a petulant child, throwing temper tantrums until you get your way. But see...while that GOT you to a title match, it certainly isn't going to do a damn thing to WIN the title for you."
"To do that, Roxy, you have to go through me. You have to go through someone who has way more experience, way more talent, and more drive and determination than you can ever muster."
"When you hit me with that chair...you played your card. But see, instead of fear from me...what you did was engender anger. Remember the look on your face when I threw that lead pipe into the back window of your limo that night? I do. And you knew."
"You knew in that moment, Roxy, you'd bitten off way more than you can chew."
"So come to Minneapolis, Botox Barbie. Come with all your hatred, all your plans, and all your desires for the belt."
"I'm coming too, but the difference between you and I is clear, it is obvious, and it is nearly painful."
"You have all these ideas, all these plans."
"Me? I'm just planning on beating you within an inch of your pathetic life, then standing over your bloody, broken carcass, holding my Chaos Championship after another successful defense."
"Then? You go to the bottom of the pile. Right where you belong."
"Because you're nothing more than bottom feeding trash, trying to make a name for herself at my expense."
"And I'll be DAMNED if that's going to happen."
"See you in the Twin Cities, Barbie."
"Hopefully, Ken has the budget camper ready to tote your carcass out of Minnesota."
"Because when the match is over....you're going to hear something that makes you scared, something that fills you with fear and loathing."
"And still....the LAW Chaos Champion...."
"Samantha Tolson."
"Fucking bank on that shit, bitch."
Samantha stands and pats her hip, watching her puppies flop off the couch and follow her out of sight.