Post by Sara Pettis on Feb 7, 2022 10:52:19 GMT -5
We see Sara Pettis in a gym, because she’s a premiere athlete and not some lowly drunkard. She is too busy clangin’ and bangin’ to realize that a crowd has gathered behind her to watch this adonis hard at work. Unlike her opponent at the upcoming Revolution1 event, she doesn’t have time to throw darts because she’s preparing her body for battle against a mentally crippled enemy. Once she finishes her set, she slams down the weights and looks up, seeing the reflection of the crowd in the mirror. A few jaws are dropped. One of them is her partner Jason, who walks toward her with a towel.
“Thanks, babe.”
She wipes the sweat from her brow.
“No, uhh, babe…”
He points at her face. She looks in the mirror and sees blood pouring out of her nose. She panics and holds the towel up to her nose to stop the bleeding.
“Come. Sit down.”
He helps her sit down on a bench, then looks to the crowd.
“Okay, okay. Show’s over. Give her some space, eh?”
The crowd disperses.
“How do you feel?”
“Lightheaded.”
“That’s understandable. How often does this happen?”
“More often than it should.”
“Maybe don’t hit the iron so hard. You’re only human, Sare. You’re not a machine.”
“I have to get ready for my match tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“Why, what?”
“Why is this match so important to you? You’re up against Jason Ryan. You could defeat him in your sleep. In fact… you probably have defeated him in your sleep. He’s the lowest of the low in Revo1… and it’s only a matter of time before you reach the top again.”
“What if I don’t… want… to be at the top again?”
Fast forward to promo time. Sara is alone in the locker room, and somehow talking to a mystical energy that will put her words out into the world or onto a network or whatever.
“Oh, how the mighty have fallen. I’m referring to myself, of course. You know… former Revo1 World Champion… now relegated to mopping up scum like Jason Ryan. This feels like the dozenth time we’ve done this dance and it’s just… not fun for me. Is this fun for you, Jason? Do you get any pleasure out of getting your ass handed to you on a silver platter every time we step in the ring together? This can’t possibly be… fun… for you. As of late, it’s not fun for me either. I’ll be honest. I had hoped that Khaos would defeat me at Christmas Chaos so that I could finally ride off into the sunset. But then… as fate decided… I walked out of there with the title. I’m thankful to have lost it right away to Maggie Lockheart. The door was open, and I was ready to walk out of it… only I’m still involved with that damn title.”
She sighs, realizing she is trapped.
“It’s not that I don’t want to be World Champion again. It’s just that… I’m tired. I’ve been going hard for two years longer than I should. Every match is one more than I should have had. Fate keeps me on this path and I just… want to rest. I want to be at home with my daughter. I want to spend time with family and friends. I want to… be me… again. Instead of what I want… I have to keep pushing and grinding. I have to put myself through meaningless fucking matches like this one with you, Jason. This is a no-win situation for me. Of course I’m going to win the match… but who the fuck cares? Beating you in the ring is like beating Hellen Keller at Dance Dance Revolution.”
She smirks.
“Okay. That was kind of a good one. Sometimes I can riff off of nothing. And you, Jason… you sure… are… nothing. You’re someone who is such a pathetic drunk that you thought I was Amber Payne last week. You can’t even think straight enough to realize it’s illegal to smoke in a bar… and yet… you think that you stand even a morsel of a chance against the Child of Fate tomorrow?! HAH!!! You’re the laughingstock of Revolution1 and that is never… ever… going to change. When I returned to this place… I had high hopes for a match against you. I remember when you were someone, Jason. You let me down… and you let everyone down. Your run as International Champion was a disgrace to all of the nations. Every… single… one of them.”
She sits down on the bench and takes a drink from her water bottle.
"This match is a waste of my time... and that's pretty clear. What about your time, Jason? You could stay in a bar and drink yourself stupider instead of heading to Madison Square Garden tomorrow night. We sure spend a lot of time at Madison Square Garden, huh? That is where I made my return to Revo1 at Remembrance... and then I had my first match against Khaos there a month later. There are hundreds of arenas in the country, and we keep going back to this one. I get that it's a nice place... but are we really such a huge draw that we can keep returning there so often? Especially with such a basic card as the one that's happening tomorrow night. Four matches, no titles, very few big stars. Seeing the name Jason Ryan on a marquee isn't enough to draw flies to a horse's ass."
"Now… I can handle mean words thrown my way. In fact… I encourage them. That’s the whole point of this dance… isn’t it? What I don’t appreciate is you threatening to drag me by the back of your pickup, behead me, and mount my head on your wall. That is just plain fucking lazy shoot, Jason… and it’s really turning me off on this match. You change your gimmick every other day to mimic some dumb shit you saw on television. Be original. Be creative. Be better. Sorry not sorry for breaking the fourth wall here. You’re a piece of shit and nobody likes you. Not one single person. Nobody cares about you… or your Reaper… or whatever dumb clown shit you’ll come up with next week. You’re a garbage person and I am tasked with disposing of you tomorrow on Sin.”
She scratches her head.
“Tomorrow… at Sin? I’m so flustered that I don’t know which is correct right now. Mayhaps it’s fatigue from the blood loss. Mayhaps I just... don't... care anymore."
"All of the above."
Jason appears behind her and rubs her shoulders.
"You don't have to do this, Sara. This is your last committed job left and you can walk away if you want to. Revo1 needs you more than you need Revo1."
"I know, Jace. It's just..."
"What's keeping you here?"
"I..."
Das ende.
“Thanks, babe.”
She wipes the sweat from her brow.
“No, uhh, babe…”
He points at her face. She looks in the mirror and sees blood pouring out of her nose. She panics and holds the towel up to her nose to stop the bleeding.
“Come. Sit down.”
He helps her sit down on a bench, then looks to the crowd.
“Okay, okay. Show’s over. Give her some space, eh?”
The crowd disperses.
“How do you feel?”
“Lightheaded.”
“That’s understandable. How often does this happen?”
“More often than it should.”
“Maybe don’t hit the iron so hard. You’re only human, Sare. You’re not a machine.”
“I have to get ready for my match tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“Why, what?”
“Why is this match so important to you? You’re up against Jason Ryan. You could defeat him in your sleep. In fact… you probably have defeated him in your sleep. He’s the lowest of the low in Revo1… and it’s only a matter of time before you reach the top again.”
“What if I don’t… want… to be at the top again?”
Fast forward to promo time. Sara is alone in the locker room, and somehow talking to a mystical energy that will put her words out into the world or onto a network or whatever.
“Oh, how the mighty have fallen. I’m referring to myself, of course. You know… former Revo1 World Champion… now relegated to mopping up scum like Jason Ryan. This feels like the dozenth time we’ve done this dance and it’s just… not fun for me. Is this fun for you, Jason? Do you get any pleasure out of getting your ass handed to you on a silver platter every time we step in the ring together? This can’t possibly be… fun… for you. As of late, it’s not fun for me either. I’ll be honest. I had hoped that Khaos would defeat me at Christmas Chaos so that I could finally ride off into the sunset. But then… as fate decided… I walked out of there with the title. I’m thankful to have lost it right away to Maggie Lockheart. The door was open, and I was ready to walk out of it… only I’m still involved with that damn title.”
She sighs, realizing she is trapped.
“It’s not that I don’t want to be World Champion again. It’s just that… I’m tired. I’ve been going hard for two years longer than I should. Every match is one more than I should have had. Fate keeps me on this path and I just… want to rest. I want to be at home with my daughter. I want to spend time with family and friends. I want to… be me… again. Instead of what I want… I have to keep pushing and grinding. I have to put myself through meaningless fucking matches like this one with you, Jason. This is a no-win situation for me. Of course I’m going to win the match… but who the fuck cares? Beating you in the ring is like beating Hellen Keller at Dance Dance Revolution.”
She smirks.
“Okay. That was kind of a good one. Sometimes I can riff off of nothing. And you, Jason… you sure… are… nothing. You’re someone who is such a pathetic drunk that you thought I was Amber Payne last week. You can’t even think straight enough to realize it’s illegal to smoke in a bar… and yet… you think that you stand even a morsel of a chance against the Child of Fate tomorrow?! HAH!!! You’re the laughingstock of Revolution1 and that is never… ever… going to change. When I returned to this place… I had high hopes for a match against you. I remember when you were someone, Jason. You let me down… and you let everyone down. Your run as International Champion was a disgrace to all of the nations. Every… single… one of them.”
She sits down on the bench and takes a drink from her water bottle.
"This match is a waste of my time... and that's pretty clear. What about your time, Jason? You could stay in a bar and drink yourself stupider instead of heading to Madison Square Garden tomorrow night. We sure spend a lot of time at Madison Square Garden, huh? That is where I made my return to Revo1 at Remembrance... and then I had my first match against Khaos there a month later. There are hundreds of arenas in the country, and we keep going back to this one. I get that it's a nice place... but are we really such a huge draw that we can keep returning there so often? Especially with such a basic card as the one that's happening tomorrow night. Four matches, no titles, very few big stars. Seeing the name Jason Ryan on a marquee isn't enough to draw flies to a horse's ass."
"Now… I can handle mean words thrown my way. In fact… I encourage them. That’s the whole point of this dance… isn’t it? What I don’t appreciate is you threatening to drag me by the back of your pickup, behead me, and mount my head on your wall. That is just plain fucking lazy shoot, Jason… and it’s really turning me off on this match. You change your gimmick every other day to mimic some dumb shit you saw on television. Be original. Be creative. Be better. Sorry not sorry for breaking the fourth wall here. You’re a piece of shit and nobody likes you. Not one single person. Nobody cares about you… or your Reaper… or whatever dumb clown shit you’ll come up with next week. You’re a garbage person and I am tasked with disposing of you tomorrow on Sin.”
She scratches her head.
“Tomorrow… at Sin? I’m so flustered that I don’t know which is correct right now. Mayhaps it’s fatigue from the blood loss. Mayhaps I just... don't... care anymore."
"All of the above."
Jason appears behind her and rubs her shoulders.
"You don't have to do this, Sara. This is your last committed job left and you can walk away if you want to. Revo1 needs you more than you need Revo1."
"I know, Jace. It's just..."
"What's keeping you here?"
"I..."
Das ende.
