Post by meghanandtamika on Jan 11, 2021 23:30:24 GMT -5
The Crown Pub
Glasgow, Scotland
January 10th, 2021
It had been a very long time since the Cowgirls From Hell had visited Europe and the United Kingdom. Most of the time, their career paths lead them around North America with the odd visit to Australia, so Meghan and Tamika were taking in the sights of old school Scottish pubs. They found a small place called ‘The Crown’ and decided to stop for something to eat and a few drinks. It wasn’t overly busy as an older gentleman wearing beige slacks held up by suspenders with a black and red flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up approaches them. He has a kind face with a bright red nose as he smiles at the sisters.
“What can I get ye, lasses?” he said with his deep voice and thick accent, standing there polishing a pint glass with a rag.
“Two ounces of Glenfiddich, neat,” Meghan replied with a smile.
“Pint of Guinness, please,” Tamika said with her Canadian hospitality.
Meghan pulls her iPhone out of the rear pocket in her jeans and places it on the bar in front of her as Tamika does the same. The older man returns, sliding the scotch and pint to the girls. They take their first sips, and a groan of joy escapes their lips.
“This scotch is what I needed, Meeks,” she says before taking another sip.
“I needed this pint,” she replies to her big sister, still bitter from being ousted from the Lethal Lottery Tag Tournament, and Meghan can tell.
“We haven’t talked about last week in Dublin. Have you talked to Sara?”
“No, her contract was terminated from what I understand and will be joining John and Vic in Project: Honor,” she says, taking a swig of her Irish Stout. “Have you spoken to Drago since Dublin?”
Meghan shakes her head in reply. “He’s a strange dude, but vicious as fuck,” she says. “We gelled well, so hopefully it means that will follow us into our next match.”
“How do you feel about facing Dorian again?”
Meghan doesn’t answer right away as she finishes her scotch and holds two fingers up towards the bartender for a refill.
“Cat got your tongue?” Tamika playfully asked.
“No, I just don’t understand why Dorian is back, and if it were because Voxx’s partner can’t compete, I would think there are other people that should fit in as her new partner,” Meghan said as she took her refilled glass of scotch in her right hand to take another drink.
“Like me!” the youngest Cowgirl exclaims, causing Meghan to laugh out loud.
“Yes, like you.”
“Well, that doesn’t look like it will be happening anytime soon, so after tomorrow night, I will be hopping on the quickest flight off this moss-covered rock.”
Tamika takes a swig of her Guinness as Meghan checks her phone. Placing her beer in front of her, she leans back on the barstool and looks at her sister. Meghan is staring into the whiskey in front of her.
“You ok?” she asks with genuine concern, watching her big sister sigh quietly to herself. “You do remember you can talk to me about anything, right?”
“Yes, of course, I’m just lost in my own little world,” she says, trying desperately to believe the words herself.
“Everything ok at home?”
“Yeah, couldn’t be better. Dustin is an amazing man.”
“The kids are alright; I know that much since the FaceTime earlier… so out with it.”
Meghan sighs again and takes a swig of the golden liquor.
“I am feeling guilty about moving on in this tournament when you are not moving on,” the words quiet as they pass her lips. “I mean, I had hoped that odds would come in our favour and keep us together, but that clearly didn’t happen. Then I hoped that maybe we might meet in the finals, but now that can’t happen…”
“Sure, it could! If Dorian can get a free pass back into the tournament, maybe I can too!”
The sisters share a look and a laugh.
“But seriously, don’t worry about feeling guilty. I will be far more upset if you squander this opportunity because you felt guilty about moving on when I didn’t,” she says. “Besides, it wasn’t me that was pinned.”
“Have I told you how much I love you?”
“No, not lately,” she replies playfully.
“Well, I do love you, Meeks.”
START BROADCAST
Malmaison Glasgow
Glasgow, Scotland
January 11th, 2021
Our scene opens up inside an old church, which is now refashioned as an upscale hotel for the people with too much money or who think paying more gets you more. The woman we are looking for, Meghan Kelser, aka Nash Strader, appears on the screen as she sits down on the foot of the bed covered by a black and white checkered duvet; her red lips smile for us. She crosses her blue denim-clad legs and extends her arms behind her, leaning back on her palms showing off her old school Cowgirls From Hell t-shirt. She doesn’t make us wait any longer as her voice fills our ears.
“Well, Revolution1, Drago and I did exactly what we told you we would do,” she says with a smirk to highlight the words, “and we are going to do the same thing tomorrow night. We are going to walk into Sin with impure intentions to take on Bat Shit Crazy Lady and the formerly undefeated Dorian Rhodes.”
“Is this what Deja-Vu feels like?”
“First, Samantha Voxx. I’m not quite sure what your angle was attacking your partner after the match, especially when you had the win, but that was a really dumb thing to do," she says while shaking her head in disbelief. “Listen, I have been apart of this business going on 21 years; 8 or so as my father’s manager, and around a dozen wrestling between the ropes, so believe me when I say I have seen many of you. You aren’t special, and the only reason you stand out is because you are, in fact, bat shit crazy. I only have one Space Lord, and his name is Jacob Figgins.”
She winks at us as she sits up straight up, crossing her arms.
“You made a terrible choice in attacking your partner because it didn’t land you with someone who could do the job; it landed you the Horrorcore Champion, and we all know how his match in the tourney went: with a loss. Which reminds me, I need to send GM Moore a fruit basket,” she says with a chuckle. “Although none of that matters since Drago and I are going to beat you. We are going to beat Dorian.”
“… again.”
“Dorian, Dorian, Dorian… how does it feel to lose and be handed an opportunity to know it’s not going to matter because you are just going to lose again?” she asks, never expecting an answer. “I thought because you were a second-generation wrestler that you wouldn’t need to be taught that eventually that the cheques your mouth has been writing are going to bounce.”
“That’s a hard lesson to learn, but unfortunately, the General Manager didn’t do you any favours by giving you another spot in this tag team tourney. Did she do it because you didn’t take the pin, and if that is the case, why not give the empty spot to my sister?” she asks, with a tinge of venom in her words. “But like Tamika would tell you, her team lost, she is out… yet your team is out, and you are still in.”
“That’s not fair, now is it?”
“But that’s the thing; life isn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that I got separated from one of the only ones I have tagged with on a long-term basis, and it won’t be fair to you when you hear mine and Drago’s names leave Alara Miles’s lips as she declares us the winners. Drago and I are destined to become Revolution1 Wrestlings Tag Team Champions. Samantha Voxx is destined to drink that proverbial kool-aid and altogether lose her mind, and you, Dorian Rhodes, are destined to lose again this week.”
“You aren’t like Drago and me. You don’t understand real success. I mean, sure, you are the Horrorcore Champion, but that says it all, doesn’t it? You won a championship that has no rules. I mean, you could use a Ford F-250 gas jockey to pin your opponent, technically. In this tournament? It is based on rules, like being in the right corner to be tagged, not using foreign objects, avoiding count outs. The one advantage I know for sure I have is my experience as a tag team wrestler, which also benefits my partner.”
“Samantha, Dorian… you aren’t leaving Glasgow with your hands held high in the air; instead, you are going to watch Beauty and the Beast carry on getting closer and closer to the tag team championships.”
“Oh, and in case you were wondering… I am obviously the Beast,” she tells us as the infamous Strader sneer creeps across her face.
“God forgives; I don’t.”
Glasgow, Scotland
January 10th, 2021
It had been a very long time since the Cowgirls From Hell had visited Europe and the United Kingdom. Most of the time, their career paths lead them around North America with the odd visit to Australia, so Meghan and Tamika were taking in the sights of old school Scottish pubs. They found a small place called ‘The Crown’ and decided to stop for something to eat and a few drinks. It wasn’t overly busy as an older gentleman wearing beige slacks held up by suspenders with a black and red flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up approaches them. He has a kind face with a bright red nose as he smiles at the sisters.
“What can I get ye, lasses?” he said with his deep voice and thick accent, standing there polishing a pint glass with a rag.
“Two ounces of Glenfiddich, neat,” Meghan replied with a smile.
“Pint of Guinness, please,” Tamika said with her Canadian hospitality.
Meghan pulls her iPhone out of the rear pocket in her jeans and places it on the bar in front of her as Tamika does the same. The older man returns, sliding the scotch and pint to the girls. They take their first sips, and a groan of joy escapes their lips.
“This scotch is what I needed, Meeks,” she says before taking another sip.
“I needed this pint,” she replies to her big sister, still bitter from being ousted from the Lethal Lottery Tag Tournament, and Meghan can tell.
“We haven’t talked about last week in Dublin. Have you talked to Sara?”
“No, her contract was terminated from what I understand and will be joining John and Vic in Project: Honor,” she says, taking a swig of her Irish Stout. “Have you spoken to Drago since Dublin?”
Meghan shakes her head in reply. “He’s a strange dude, but vicious as fuck,” she says. “We gelled well, so hopefully it means that will follow us into our next match.”
“How do you feel about facing Dorian again?”
Meghan doesn’t answer right away as she finishes her scotch and holds two fingers up towards the bartender for a refill.
“Cat got your tongue?” Tamika playfully asked.
“No, I just don’t understand why Dorian is back, and if it were because Voxx’s partner can’t compete, I would think there are other people that should fit in as her new partner,” Meghan said as she took her refilled glass of scotch in her right hand to take another drink.
“Like me!” the youngest Cowgirl exclaims, causing Meghan to laugh out loud.
“Yes, like you.”
“Well, that doesn’t look like it will be happening anytime soon, so after tomorrow night, I will be hopping on the quickest flight off this moss-covered rock.”
Tamika takes a swig of her Guinness as Meghan checks her phone. Placing her beer in front of her, she leans back on the barstool and looks at her sister. Meghan is staring into the whiskey in front of her.
“You ok?” she asks with genuine concern, watching her big sister sigh quietly to herself. “You do remember you can talk to me about anything, right?”
“Yes, of course, I’m just lost in my own little world,” she says, trying desperately to believe the words herself.
“Everything ok at home?”
“Yeah, couldn’t be better. Dustin is an amazing man.”
“The kids are alright; I know that much since the FaceTime earlier… so out with it.”
Meghan sighs again and takes a swig of the golden liquor.
“I am feeling guilty about moving on in this tournament when you are not moving on,” the words quiet as they pass her lips. “I mean, I had hoped that odds would come in our favour and keep us together, but that clearly didn’t happen. Then I hoped that maybe we might meet in the finals, but now that can’t happen…”
“Sure, it could! If Dorian can get a free pass back into the tournament, maybe I can too!”
The sisters share a look and a laugh.
“But seriously, don’t worry about feeling guilty. I will be far more upset if you squander this opportunity because you felt guilty about moving on when I didn’t,” she says. “Besides, it wasn’t me that was pinned.”
“Have I told you how much I love you?”
“No, not lately,” she replies playfully.
“Well, I do love you, Meeks.”
START BROADCAST
Malmaison Glasgow
Glasgow, Scotland
January 11th, 2021
Our scene opens up inside an old church, which is now refashioned as an upscale hotel for the people with too much money or who think paying more gets you more. The woman we are looking for, Meghan Kelser, aka Nash Strader, appears on the screen as she sits down on the foot of the bed covered by a black and white checkered duvet; her red lips smile for us. She crosses her blue denim-clad legs and extends her arms behind her, leaning back on her palms showing off her old school Cowgirls From Hell t-shirt. She doesn’t make us wait any longer as her voice fills our ears.
“Well, Revolution1, Drago and I did exactly what we told you we would do,” she says with a smirk to highlight the words, “and we are going to do the same thing tomorrow night. We are going to walk into Sin with impure intentions to take on Bat Shit Crazy Lady and the formerly undefeated Dorian Rhodes.”
“Is this what Deja-Vu feels like?”
“First, Samantha Voxx. I’m not quite sure what your angle was attacking your partner after the match, especially when you had the win, but that was a really dumb thing to do," she says while shaking her head in disbelief. “Listen, I have been apart of this business going on 21 years; 8 or so as my father’s manager, and around a dozen wrestling between the ropes, so believe me when I say I have seen many of you. You aren’t special, and the only reason you stand out is because you are, in fact, bat shit crazy. I only have one Space Lord, and his name is Jacob Figgins.”
She winks at us as she sits up straight up, crossing her arms.
“You made a terrible choice in attacking your partner because it didn’t land you with someone who could do the job; it landed you the Horrorcore Champion, and we all know how his match in the tourney went: with a loss. Which reminds me, I need to send GM Moore a fruit basket,” she says with a chuckle. “Although none of that matters since Drago and I are going to beat you. We are going to beat Dorian.”
“… again.”
“Dorian, Dorian, Dorian… how does it feel to lose and be handed an opportunity to know it’s not going to matter because you are just going to lose again?” she asks, never expecting an answer. “I thought because you were a second-generation wrestler that you wouldn’t need to be taught that eventually that the cheques your mouth has been writing are going to bounce.”
“That’s a hard lesson to learn, but unfortunately, the General Manager didn’t do you any favours by giving you another spot in this tag team tourney. Did she do it because you didn’t take the pin, and if that is the case, why not give the empty spot to my sister?” she asks, with a tinge of venom in her words. “But like Tamika would tell you, her team lost, she is out… yet your team is out, and you are still in.”
“That’s not fair, now is it?”
“But that’s the thing; life isn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that I got separated from one of the only ones I have tagged with on a long-term basis, and it won’t be fair to you when you hear mine and Drago’s names leave Alara Miles’s lips as she declares us the winners. Drago and I are destined to become Revolution1 Wrestlings Tag Team Champions. Samantha Voxx is destined to drink that proverbial kool-aid and altogether lose her mind, and you, Dorian Rhodes, are destined to lose again this week.”
“You aren’t like Drago and me. You don’t understand real success. I mean, sure, you are the Horrorcore Champion, but that says it all, doesn’t it? You won a championship that has no rules. I mean, you could use a Ford F-250 gas jockey to pin your opponent, technically. In this tournament? It is based on rules, like being in the right corner to be tagged, not using foreign objects, avoiding count outs. The one advantage I know for sure I have is my experience as a tag team wrestler, which also benefits my partner.”
“Samantha, Dorian… you aren’t leaving Glasgow with your hands held high in the air; instead, you are going to watch Beauty and the Beast carry on getting closer and closer to the tag team championships.”
“Oh, and in case you were wondering… I am obviously the Beast,” she tells us as the infamous Strader sneer creeps across her face.
“God forgives; I don’t.”