Derivative, on-the-nose, High School Musical Bullshit
Jul 4, 2020 10:01:29 GMT -5
Thomas Snow, Adelaide Ainsworth, and 1 more like this
Post by lacklan on Jul 4, 2020 10:01:29 GMT -5
darkness
the Abyss
it is deep
go
NOW
embrace the Light
the Abyss
honor me, Daughter
friend?
foe?
ALL ARE FOES
rip
tear
RIP AND TEAR HER ARM OFF
“Sarah?”
Sarah Lacklan shakes her head as she comes out of her daze. Odd red eyes look around and she sees a brunette, of sharp face and easy on the eyes, alone with her in a small room. She looks down and sees the green and red wrestling gear, the small top and shorts inspired by the plumage of the firebird, and knows that she is still in the arena. She shakes her head again and clutches her head.
“Hey, Atty.”
Atara Themis reaches up and places a hand on Sarah’s shoulder.
“You okay?”
Sarah nods slowly.
“I’m fine. You...you know how I get.”
Atara grimaces and gives a small nod.
“I’m starting to figure that out.”
Sarah stands up from her chair and turns towards her YSL gym bag.
“Thanks for that distraction. I’ve been wanting a chance to mist dummy MadBitch for weeks.”
Atara smiles and shakes her head.
“Hey, I just wanted a closer look.”
Sarah snorts as she rummages through her bag.
“...of my butt.”
The Greek’s golden face turns a bright shade of scarlet and her mouth opens and closes several times as she stammers an unintelligible response. Sarah pulls a large shirt out of her bag, with an emblem of a giant tennis racket across the front, and pulls it over her head, the garment long enough to rest down to her mid thigh.
“Just don’t tell Kenzi. She gets SO jelly-belly about the LITTLEST things.”
She turns to face Atara and places her hands on her hips.
“Speaking of which, c’mon. We need to catch up with Kenzi so that I can eat. And get these damn contacts out. My eyes ACHE.”
Atara gets to her feet and looks down at the significantly shorter albino.
“And then what?”
Sarah flashes her Billion $$$ Smile.
“HOME! We haven’t slept in the Egg in a WEEK! But only for a couple of days, because then it’s off to my sister’s for the 4th. But enough blah blah. I’m starved!”
Sarah grabs Atara’s hand and yanks her from the room.
“COMMUNITY COLLEGE?!”
The tall blonde’s face scrunches and hands fight to cover ears as the voice of the banshee reaches a keen which threatens to split eardrums.
“You have GOT to be KIDDING ME, Angelica! You MUST be standing there and MAKING Baby Jesus cry! There is NO WAY I am letting you go to some PAUPER SCHOOL in this hellish state of yours!”
The ruby eyes of Sarah Lacklan burn behind her thick glasses, the shade matching the intensity of the vermilion gown, accented with tiny spider webs of gold and ridiculously puffy shoulders, and her pale finger shoots forward and upward into the face of the significantly taller blonde.
“Bowdoin, in the APPROPRIATE state of Maine, was Daddy’s Alma Mater! Bowdoin will be where I go to get my marketing education after I am tired of being the World’s Greatest Wrestler. And Bowdoin is where MY BABY SISTER is going to go OR SO HELP ME!”
The blonde’s face turns stern as Sarah’s tirade wraps up, and she stands firm and straight, towering over the albino.
“First of all!”
Sarah’s eyes go wide with indignation.
“GIMMICK INFRING-”
“You are NOT the best wrestler in the world. Beat you twice!”
Sarah’s mouth opens and closes several times but no words come out.
“Secondsies!! I WANT to go to community college, Sis! I get to try some new things BEFORE I commit to...well...whatever it is I want to end up doing. Oh! And thirdsies! You don’t live in Maine anymore either, you know.”
Sarah’s face falls flat at this.
“I moved in order to get married. So unless YOU are planning on getting married to a nice boy and FINALLY getting me some nieces and neph-”
“Oh wow! Look at the time! I better get that tofu on the grill!”
After looking at a bare wrist for the time, the leggy blonde turns and runs.
“This isn’t over, Angelica! Daddy would come back to life JUST TO DIE OF EMBARRASSMENT!”
Sarah shakes her head as her half-sister, Angelica Vaughn, world renowned wrestler, burgeoning farmer, and owner of an expanding Kitty Cafe network, runs for the hills at even the hint of a mention of a thought of going out on a date.
“...coward…”
Sarah turns on her heel and stomps away, heading out of the large ranch house. At the door, she grabs an oversized hat filled with red and black frills that match her gown, and plops it atop her platinum updo. Out the door she goes and away from the large house on the STA Ranch, muttering all the way underneath the brutal Texas sun.
“...stupid sister...community college...embarrassing me...too freakin’ hot here…”
She spins on her heeled boots back toward the house and shakes a fist.
“AND ANOTHER THING!”
What that other thing is, however, is lost to the Abyss as Sarah turns back around and stomps towards a local pond hidden among a grouping of brilliantly green trees. Before long, she finds herself at the pond’s edge and sits upon a well-worn log.
“Whatever. Got a few minutes before the July 4th festivities. Might as well use it…”
Reaching into a hidden fold of her extravagant dress, she produces a large iPhone, featuring the smiling face of a caramel beauty, and presses a few buttons.
HIIIIIII-iiiiiiiii
This is your reason for being, the face that launched ALL the ships, Sarah Lacklan-
((ascending piano notes))
-MARKETING GENIUS-
((trumpet fanfare))
-and I KNOW that I haven’t used my vlog in a while, and I KNOW that the Fang Gang, all of my baby birds out there, miss it terribly, and NO this is not a regular return to the PrincessTwilightSexyFang Podcast. I’m sorry, but I’m simply using this because I needed to reach out to someone directly, because I am in SUCH a mood.
ELC! Li-Li! ‘Sup, yo? How's that wing? Listen, I need to talk to you about something, okay?
You don’t deserve to be here.
Now, I know Ms My Mommy Died wants to rear up in you and lash out with a prideful stare, but stop right there, okay? As the Light would have it, you are facing someone who also had a mother who didn’t make it beyond child birth, so save your sob story for someone else, okay? There will be no pity applause for you in that regard, not against me. No “I fought for everything I have” compilation while showing you boxing at the family gym and working at the pub is going to cut it against someone who has faced similar adversity, so come up with something else, okay?
You don’t deserve to be here.
You don’t deserve to be in this tournament.
You don’t deserve to be in the ring with me.
An untrained rookie with holes in her game so wide that sixteen Vonn Richtors could walk through them shoulder-to-shoulder? In-ring skill which equates to a few punches and nothing else? A moveset full of moves that you don’t know how to do which looks like it was set up by a 12-year-old playing the latest video game? Begging and pleading to get on some bullshit indy show and being proud of the fact, all the while not even understanding why us REAL wrestlers snicker and roll our eyes?
I told Dream that he had better win, that he had no excuse, because you were a shit wrestler. That observation of mine is from watching your sloppy execution, slow timing, and the glazed-over look in your eyes when looking at the live audience. And the fact that you WERE able to get by two people on the way to this spot speaks more to THEIR ability than YOURS.
I’ve beaten Dream twice, so I fully understand his placement in the world of wrestling.
His spot in the MadClan is well deserved.
But FAR worse than watching you has been LISTENING to you.
I listen to the tripe and drivel that comes out of your mouth and I worry about the state of professional wrestling. It is bad enough that you find yourself anchoring on derivative nonsense like “at the end of the day,” but you do so without even realizing how BAD it is. It would be ONE THING if you did dumb shit like making sure that people played Tom Petty while you literally cut a promo about not backing down in an IRONIC sense, but you actually thought it was ART! You thought it was GOOD! You stood up in front of the world and said:
“LOOKIE! THIS IS ME! THE VERY FACE OF DERIVATIVE, ON-THE-NOSE, HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL BULLSHIT”
You don’t even REALIZE how bad you are.
Well, except for the fact that you’re the indyriffic rookie who has heard it all.
Really.
Please, tell me, in all of your hundreds of matches in our business, all the times you have ‘heard it all.’
You haven’t heard anything yet, kid. You don’t just realize how bad you are, but you also don’t realize how dumb you are.
Mind you, if you told me that you attended the MadClan School of Wrestling, then I would understand a few things, such as that horrendously shitty take on research.
“I'm not the type to search through your history to find X,Y,Z and say 'hey this means you are not on my level.'”
For fuck’s sake, kid.
Research is paramount. Knowing your opponent better than they know themselves? That’s how we WIN. THAT is why I know you’re slower than me. THAT is how I know that you use your shining wizard too often and the chancery on your cutter is too loose. THAT is why I knew you would’t know to get the fuck out of dodge when the lights mysteriously go out. THAT is why I know you’re not smart enough to understand the difference between a seeded tournament and a random draw. THAT is how I know you are as overwhelmed as a luxury steamship facing off with a North Atlantic iceberg. Because while you got to this point by beating a couple of underwhelming midcarders, I beat two main event attractions when I wasn't supposed to.
But then again, that assumption is what people get for predicting the name they knew and not doing research on the one they didn’t.
I am a wrestler. My father? Wrestler. Wife? A wrestler. Sister? Wrestler. Best friend? Wrestler. Worst enemy? Wrestler. Fucking up people in a wrestling ring and winning is what I DO.
You’re just a curtain-jerking, one-punch, untrained newbie playing “wrestler” like its a cosplay convention who shouldn't be allowed to set up the ring much less step into it.
On Tuesday, I am going to get even YOU to understand just how bad you are.
See ya around.