Post by meghanandtamika on Feb 8, 2021 20:00:50 GMT -5
A lot changes in a year...
(Click Link to read coded Google Doc)
Strader Estate
Houston, Texas USA
February 21st, 2020
It had been a hot minute since Meghan Kelser had gone down to where her family legacy started. She wanted to make sure her twins spent with their Great Aunt Vanessa and great grandmammy Hannah Strader. She sits deep in the estate out back by the Olympic sized swimming pool, watching her little sister Tamika and wife of the real Simon Kalis play with the twins, Clay and Liz, sipping on a scotch and soda. Her icy blue eyes concealed by red-tinted aviators, her golden complexion contrasting well with her white bikini, white sunhat and Gucci sandals. She smiles as the kids float around in a tube controlled by their aunt. She sits deep in thought when she feels water hit her feet as she lounges in a lounge chair. She moves her sunglasses down the tip of her nose to look at her sister.
“Are you sure you want to play that game, wee one?” the big sister asks the little sisters, moving her sunglasses down her nose to see Tamika in the natural light.
“No, just making sure you don’t fall asleep under the hot Texan sun. It has been a while since you came to see grandma and Aunt ‘Nessa. Simon and I get down at least once a month.”
Meghan raises the right side of her brow and smirks.
“Ok, good, I wasn’t sure if you were calling me out for a water fight,” she says with a wink. “I’m surprised Simon would want to come here of all the places he could go to.”
“Oh no, no, even if I did, I’d layeth the smacketh downeth on you,” she says, tilting her head to the left, raising her entire brow. “It’s not that he wants to; he’s just smart to know the phrase ‘Happy Wife, Happy Life.’”
“Listen, I smell what you are cooking and as usual…”
Meghan sniffs the air before smiling with what she says next.
“...bullshit.”
Meghan lets out a playful shriek as Tamika splashes more water up at her to the delight of her little niece and nephew. Tamika’s husband, Simon Kalis, walks out the back door, and his loving wife waves him over.
“What’s up, pumpkin?” the handsome husband and partner in life asked her.
“Darling, can you take the kids inside and get them ready for dinner? Our little monster is with Vanessa and Dad.”
The Strader sisters did well for themselves up to this point in their lives. Tamika married Simon Kalis and had a son, little Scott, and both are happily retired from the wrestling business. Meghan married Dustin Kelser just this past Canadian Thanksgiving and gave birth to the kids only two months ago in December. Meghan was getting ready to return to the ring with her new tag team partner, her protégé Maxine Riggs, soon to be known as Mad Max. She decided to bring her down to the family estate to learn from her legendary uncle, Payton Strader, aka tHE dREAM rEAPER and her father, Scott Nash Strader. Tamika swims up to the edge near her big sister; placing her arms on the concrete in front of her, she rests her chin across her forearms.
“So… Alpha Pro Wrestling.”
“Yep… Alpha Pro Wrestling.”
“It’ll be weird not being there as your partner, Megz.”
Meghan nods slightly. This endeavour was going to be a whole new adventure. In the original outing of the Cowgirls From Hell, Meghan and Tamika made headlines, main events, and the paycheques that went along with it. Longest reigning tag team champions in PWA history. Carved out a legacy that even the best tag teams only dream about. Now she was attempting to do it all over again. The Cowgirls From Hell had always been the sisters Strader, but Tamika was very much content in all she had accomplished and loved being a mother and now an aunt, so it was time to evolve, just like the Strader’s have done since entering the squared circle in 1997.
“Listen, if you told me right now you wanted to strap your boot laces back up, I’d be down. No questions,” she says, leaning forward. “But I know you are happy and content with your life now. I’m not gonna pull a selfish move and ask you to do something you’re not 100% into,” she says, looking out for her baby sister. “Besides, Mad Max is more than ready to debut. I’ve been training her for years, and she needed to hit the indy scene to get that in-ring experience. She might be green, but I see that same intensity in her eyes that was once in yours,” she says with a kind of passion Tamika first heard in 2008 when they formed the Cowgirls.
Tamika pulls herself up out of the pool, revealing her turquoise bikini that perfectly fits her figure and frame. She dries herself off and wraps a large white beach towel around her waist, and sits on the edge of the lounge chair with her big sister.
“Well, I like her; she’s a good kid. You took her teenage angst and directed it into work ethic and ambition. Plus, we were her favourite tag team, and how can I hate on someone with such great taste?” she asks, posing with her hands on her hips.
They share a laugh. Meghan reaches out and grabs Tamika’s hand.
“We will always be the Cowgirls From Hell, but since you wouldn’t come back, I figured just like the old man did with the Cowboys, I would expand.”
“I like that she’s a rocket of aggression, like chaos wrapped up in a little ball. And I do like that idea, becoming more than just a tag team, but a way of life. I’ll help in any way I can.”
That all well-known Strader sneer crosses Meghan’s lips as they talked over the finer details of a return to wrestling, not expecting what the next year would bring to them and their family.
51 Charterhouse Crescent
London, Ontario
May 14th, 2020
Meghan had no idea what she was in for when helping the daughter’s girlfriend she had given up for adoption. She had never seen such a little ball of chaos before in her life. This girl… Meghan saw something in her. A rawness, like lightning in a bottle. It was the same that she saw in her baby sister when she finally met her (long story), although Tamika had a distinct advantage studying Kung Fu as she could control it and channel it; Maxine was a different story. Meghan stares at the crude ring set up her little brother John had put together. It had seen better days. Maxine stands in the ring with Dustin Thunderwolf Kelser, going over reversals and combo pins. Wolf motions for her to take him into a grapple.
RING RING
Meghan reaches into her back pocket, pulling out her iPhone 11 Pro and sees her dad’s shit-eating grin in the form of a contact picture. She slides her middle finger across the screen to answer. eardrums
“What’s up, pops? I’m a little busy right now…”
“Not much, kid. Listen, I’m going to need into the shop tonight. I got a shipment of Harley parts coming in that need to get sorted.”
Harley parts, yeah. Sure. Before she can respond, a loud screeching burst of anger tares through the eardrums of anyone nearby and cuts her phone call short.
“Yeah, that’s fine, dad. I gotta go.”
“Sounds like you do; thanks kid.”
Before she’s even fully turned back around towards the ring, that little ball of chaos has stormed out of the ring and slam of the steel door to the autobody shop turned makeshift wrestling school echoes throughout quite loudly. Dustin crosses his arms and laughs as he watches his fiancé slide in under the bottom rope. She stands beside him, looking at the door before turning to look at him.
“What did you say to piss her off this time, baby?” she asked, looking up into his eyes.
“Nothing, I swear, babe. She went to spear me, but I dropped down and caught her with a fireman’s carry into a chokehold.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad…”
“Well, it was like the fourth time, and I may have patted her a few times when I had her in the hold,” he adds casually, bracing for a smack.
Without hesitation, she slaps him on the shoulder and sighs while he rubs his shoulder, chuckling at her.
“Why do you get off working her like that?” she asked, shaking her head but laughing at the same time.
“She needs to learn that there are infuriating opponents and partners out there… weren’t you managing your dad when he teamed with The Kumquat Kid?”
“Point taken. Let me go talk to her.”
She leans in and kisses her man on the cheek as she heads outside to find Maxine. The all familiar sound of a can of spray paint can be heard, that Meghan now associated with her ‘daughter-in-law.’ Max looks at ease; she tags the wrecked cars found out behind the building. The stars and the moonlight the sky as Meghan looks up to possibly the all mighty being.
“Alannis Morrisette, don’t fail me now,” she says under her breath.
The eldest Strader offspring slowly comes up behind her protégé. Max doesn’t flinch as she continues with her art.
“Your husband is an asshole,” she says, kicking at a flat tire.
“Aw, it is part of his charm. Why don’t you tell me what happened in there?”
She continues spray painting.
“He was an ass, and it pissed me the fuck off.”
“Yeah, he does that sometimes but you gotta do a better job of not reacting that way; it’s his way of trying to teach you that,” she says, explaining her husband’s methods.
Maxine steps back to admire the artwork of a crude Thunderwolf with a phallus in his mouth. She looks back at her pseudo sister/mother for approval.
“Wow, it’s uncanny; except his eyes, they are a bit too beady,” she remarks with her arms crossed and her left hand stroking her chin.
Meghan laughs, thinking she can’t wait to show her man this, so she snaps a quick picture with her phone. She puts her arm around the young Max and leads her back towards the shop.
“Walk and talk with me, will ya? Listen, I know Dustin can be an ass, but that ability to be an ass is because of what he was able to accomplish in the ring. I won’t ever admit this, but he gave so much more than my family did to this business. Don’t get me wrong, my work speaks for itself, but it’s learning the lessons learned in-between all the shit, and he can teach you that just as much as I can. You have them in every sport out there: agitators. You are about to start the independent circuit. Thousands of women and men will do whatever it takes, and you need to be able to control yourself in the ring. Including those agitators, so that’s why he does that,” she says, as her hands find her jean pockets to rest in.
“So basically deal with it?” she asks, looking at her mentor.
“Pretty much, because my sweet Mad Max, there’s a lot of assholes in this business, and to be the best, you can’t let it get under your skin.”
They reach the shop, and Maxine heads straight to a punching bag over by the ring. Meghan smiles as her soon to be husband slips up behind her. He slides his arm around her waist and leans and kisses her cheek.
“Good talk? She going to take a kick at my nuts?” he asks, half-serious in his query about his teste.
“Yeah, she’s a good kid. She understands, or if she doesn’t, she is very close to it. We keep taking the long route. There’s no doubt in my mind she could carry on the legacy of the Cowgirls.”
The smacks of Max’s hands hitting the bag echo throughout the shop. Meghan pulls out her phone and snaps a couple of pics of her protégé. She nudges Dustin.
“Check out this artwork Max did outside! It is excellent!”
Meghan opens the image and watches her man through the corner of his eye for his reaction. He looks quietly in thought before speaking.
“It’s good, but my eyes aren’t that beady.”
“That’s what I said,” she said, laughing, as she leaned in to kiss her husband.
Salt Lake City, Utah
February 8th, 2021
Meghan and Tamika Nash Strader sat on their motorcycles in front of a Moron church to look out at the sulphur soaked city in the State of Utah in the night sky. They turn their heads forward, now looking towards the church, but more specifically us and the camera lens. The sisters are dressed to ride their Harleys in blue jeans, black leather riding boots worn outside the pants cuffs, leather jackets similar to that of the T-800 Cyberdyne Systems Model 101 in James Cameron’s epic sequel to 1984’s The Terminator. Meghan has one thing that her sister does not, and that’s the Revolution1 Wrestling Tag Team Championship that sits fastened around Meghan’s waist, resting upon the top of her hips. One-half of The Cowgirls From Hell, who is also Beauty of ‘Beauty and the Beast’ with Drago Santiago, and the champion speaks first.
“Revolution1 Wrestling, I did what I said I was going to do, and that was to become a tag team champion,” she says with a confidence that befits a champion. “The Beast and I went into the Pay Per View New Years Daze in London, England, and we put Amelia and Portia in their place. When I pinned Portia and Drago prevented Amelia from stopping it, we made history, and not only am I Cowgirl, but I am also the Beauty.”
“Well, at least you remembered,” Tamika said quietly to herself, but perhaps too loud as Meghan catches it, glaring at her sister. “While I may not hold the other half of this championship, it doesn’t mean the Cowgirls From Hell stopped from raising hell and taking over wherever we go.”
“She isn’t wrong, Revo1. We have been in this game a long time, and while things change and evolve, certain things stay constant. We are that constant. We are third-generation wrestlers from a wrestling dynasty. Other teams throughout the profession of wrestling only wish they could have half the chemistry that we have,” she says sharply to the camera.
“Or Beauty and the Beast,” she adds, not looking at her sister and continuing before she can respond. “Being third generation talent, with fourth-generation starting to make a name for herself, we have seen a lot of different people come and go over the years. From farmers to bikers to evil overlords to Pinky and, yes, The Brain. We have seen it all.”
“We know a guy by the name of Jacob Figgins; he is the protagonist of his own Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. A seven-foot Canadian thinks the USPS employs him over in Project: Honor. A rich farming heiress that is teamed with Mr. Broody himself, Matt Knox in Uprising!”
“Isn’t there also a dragon in Uprising?”
“Yes, and a horny old man who is managing my former protégé,” she adds with a bitterness that drips like an ice-cold dagger in the back. “So, as we said, we have seen it all. Take Katarina ‘Cerise’ Starr, for example. She honestly thinks she is from a place called The Forsaken, yet she was raised in a socialite type family. So right there, it tells me she is living in an alternate reality, like seventy-one million registered US voters.”
Even though we can see the cracks in their partnership starting, the Strader women’s eyes roll as if on cue at the same time.
“We can’t forget about Damien ‘Khaos’ Carter, either. I mean, if we were playing Griffins and Gargoyles, we would have our Hellcaster!”
“Griffins and Gargoyles?”
“Yeah, don’t you watch Riverdale on the CW Wednesday nights (check your local listings) with the episode hitting Netflix Thursdays!” she says with an advertising type of spunk.
BABONG!!!!! (Netflix sound)
“Was that the Netflix sound? Where did that come from? Did you just do a paid advertisement in the middle of our promo?” Meghan asks, more curious than furious. Hey, that rhymed.
“I don’t know what you are talking about, but see Archie and the gang graduate!”
BABONG!!!!!
“Would you stop that already?”
“Hey, I am just showing I have magical powers too!”
“What, that you can make the Netflix sound? Don’t do it,” Meghan adds with a flat, unimpressed tone. “Anyway, Cerise, Khaos, that sound you are hearing? That’s the sound of hoofbeats.”
“And we are taking over this town. Half of us anyway.”
“Listen it’s not my fault you got paired with a flake and it cost you a shot at the straps.”
The scene fades onto the arguing Cowgirls, leaving us wondering if a split is coming or not. Tune tomorrow night. Same Bat Time, Same Bat Channel!
(Click Link to read coded Google Doc)
Strader Estate
Houston, Texas USA
February 21st, 2020
It had been a hot minute since Meghan Kelser had gone down to where her family legacy started. She wanted to make sure her twins spent with their Great Aunt Vanessa and great grandmammy Hannah Strader. She sits deep in the estate out back by the Olympic sized swimming pool, watching her little sister Tamika and wife of the real Simon Kalis play with the twins, Clay and Liz, sipping on a scotch and soda. Her icy blue eyes concealed by red-tinted aviators, her golden complexion contrasting well with her white bikini, white sunhat and Gucci sandals. She smiles as the kids float around in a tube controlled by their aunt. She sits deep in thought when she feels water hit her feet as she lounges in a lounge chair. She moves her sunglasses down the tip of her nose to look at her sister.
“Are you sure you want to play that game, wee one?” the big sister asks the little sisters, moving her sunglasses down her nose to see Tamika in the natural light.
“No, just making sure you don’t fall asleep under the hot Texan sun. It has been a while since you came to see grandma and Aunt ‘Nessa. Simon and I get down at least once a month.”
Meghan raises the right side of her brow and smirks.
“Ok, good, I wasn’t sure if you were calling me out for a water fight,” she says with a wink. “I’m surprised Simon would want to come here of all the places he could go to.”
“Oh no, no, even if I did, I’d layeth the smacketh downeth on you,” she says, tilting her head to the left, raising her entire brow. “It’s not that he wants to; he’s just smart to know the phrase ‘Happy Wife, Happy Life.’”
“Listen, I smell what you are cooking and as usual…”
Meghan sniffs the air before smiling with what she says next.
“...bullshit.”
Meghan lets out a playful shriek as Tamika splashes more water up at her to the delight of her little niece and nephew. Tamika’s husband, Simon Kalis, walks out the back door, and his loving wife waves him over.
“What’s up, pumpkin?” the handsome husband and partner in life asked her.
“Darling, can you take the kids inside and get them ready for dinner? Our little monster is with Vanessa and Dad.”
The Strader sisters did well for themselves up to this point in their lives. Tamika married Simon Kalis and had a son, little Scott, and both are happily retired from the wrestling business. Meghan married Dustin Kelser just this past Canadian Thanksgiving and gave birth to the kids only two months ago in December. Meghan was getting ready to return to the ring with her new tag team partner, her protégé Maxine Riggs, soon to be known as Mad Max. She decided to bring her down to the family estate to learn from her legendary uncle, Payton Strader, aka tHE dREAM rEAPER and her father, Scott Nash Strader. Tamika swims up to the edge near her big sister; placing her arms on the concrete in front of her, she rests her chin across her forearms.
“So… Alpha Pro Wrestling.”
“Yep… Alpha Pro Wrestling.”
“It’ll be weird not being there as your partner, Megz.”
Meghan nods slightly. This endeavour was going to be a whole new adventure. In the original outing of the Cowgirls From Hell, Meghan and Tamika made headlines, main events, and the paycheques that went along with it. Longest reigning tag team champions in PWA history. Carved out a legacy that even the best tag teams only dream about. Now she was attempting to do it all over again. The Cowgirls From Hell had always been the sisters Strader, but Tamika was very much content in all she had accomplished and loved being a mother and now an aunt, so it was time to evolve, just like the Strader’s have done since entering the squared circle in 1997.
“Listen, if you told me right now you wanted to strap your boot laces back up, I’d be down. No questions,” she says, leaning forward. “But I know you are happy and content with your life now. I’m not gonna pull a selfish move and ask you to do something you’re not 100% into,” she says, looking out for her baby sister. “Besides, Mad Max is more than ready to debut. I’ve been training her for years, and she needed to hit the indy scene to get that in-ring experience. She might be green, but I see that same intensity in her eyes that was once in yours,” she says with a kind of passion Tamika first heard in 2008 when they formed the Cowgirls.
Tamika pulls herself up out of the pool, revealing her turquoise bikini that perfectly fits her figure and frame. She dries herself off and wraps a large white beach towel around her waist, and sits on the edge of the lounge chair with her big sister.
“Well, I like her; she’s a good kid. You took her teenage angst and directed it into work ethic and ambition. Plus, we were her favourite tag team, and how can I hate on someone with such great taste?” she asks, posing with her hands on her hips.
They share a laugh. Meghan reaches out and grabs Tamika’s hand.
“We will always be the Cowgirls From Hell, but since you wouldn’t come back, I figured just like the old man did with the Cowboys, I would expand.”
“I like that she’s a rocket of aggression, like chaos wrapped up in a little ball. And I do like that idea, becoming more than just a tag team, but a way of life. I’ll help in any way I can.”
That all well-known Strader sneer crosses Meghan’s lips as they talked over the finer details of a return to wrestling, not expecting what the next year would bring to them and their family.
51 Charterhouse Crescent
London, Ontario
May 14th, 2020
Meghan had no idea what she was in for when helping the daughter’s girlfriend she had given up for adoption. She had never seen such a little ball of chaos before in her life. This girl… Meghan saw something in her. A rawness, like lightning in a bottle. It was the same that she saw in her baby sister when she finally met her (long story), although Tamika had a distinct advantage studying Kung Fu as she could control it and channel it; Maxine was a different story. Meghan stares at the crude ring set up her little brother John had put together. It had seen better days. Maxine stands in the ring with Dustin Thunderwolf Kelser, going over reversals and combo pins. Wolf motions for her to take him into a grapple.
RING RING
Meghan reaches into her back pocket, pulling out her iPhone 11 Pro and sees her dad’s shit-eating grin in the form of a contact picture. She slides her middle finger across the screen to answer. eardrums
“What’s up, pops? I’m a little busy right now…”
“Not much, kid. Listen, I’m going to need into the shop tonight. I got a shipment of Harley parts coming in that need to get sorted.”
Harley parts, yeah. Sure. Before she can respond, a loud screeching burst of anger tares through the eardrums of anyone nearby and cuts her phone call short.
“Yeah, that’s fine, dad. I gotta go.”
“Sounds like you do; thanks kid.”
Before she’s even fully turned back around towards the ring, that little ball of chaos has stormed out of the ring and slam of the steel door to the autobody shop turned makeshift wrestling school echoes throughout quite loudly. Dustin crosses his arms and laughs as he watches his fiancé slide in under the bottom rope. She stands beside him, looking at the door before turning to look at him.
“What did you say to piss her off this time, baby?” she asked, looking up into his eyes.
“Nothing, I swear, babe. She went to spear me, but I dropped down and caught her with a fireman’s carry into a chokehold.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad…”
“Well, it was like the fourth time, and I may have patted her a few times when I had her in the hold,” he adds casually, bracing for a smack.
Without hesitation, she slaps him on the shoulder and sighs while he rubs his shoulder, chuckling at her.
“Why do you get off working her like that?” she asked, shaking her head but laughing at the same time.
“She needs to learn that there are infuriating opponents and partners out there… weren’t you managing your dad when he teamed with The Kumquat Kid?”
“Point taken. Let me go talk to her.”
She leans in and kisses her man on the cheek as she heads outside to find Maxine. The all familiar sound of a can of spray paint can be heard, that Meghan now associated with her ‘daughter-in-law.’ Max looks at ease; she tags the wrecked cars found out behind the building. The stars and the moonlight the sky as Meghan looks up to possibly the all mighty being.
“Alannis Morrisette, don’t fail me now,” she says under her breath.
The eldest Strader offspring slowly comes up behind her protégé. Max doesn’t flinch as she continues with her art.
“Your husband is an asshole,” she says, kicking at a flat tire.
“Aw, it is part of his charm. Why don’t you tell me what happened in there?”
She continues spray painting.
“He was an ass, and it pissed me the fuck off.”
“Yeah, he does that sometimes but you gotta do a better job of not reacting that way; it’s his way of trying to teach you that,” she says, explaining her husband’s methods.
Maxine steps back to admire the artwork of a crude Thunderwolf with a phallus in his mouth. She looks back at her pseudo sister/mother for approval.
“Wow, it’s uncanny; except his eyes, they are a bit too beady,” she remarks with her arms crossed and her left hand stroking her chin.
Meghan laughs, thinking she can’t wait to show her man this, so she snaps a quick picture with her phone. She puts her arm around the young Max and leads her back towards the shop.
“Walk and talk with me, will ya? Listen, I know Dustin can be an ass, but that ability to be an ass is because of what he was able to accomplish in the ring. I won’t ever admit this, but he gave so much more than my family did to this business. Don’t get me wrong, my work speaks for itself, but it’s learning the lessons learned in-between all the shit, and he can teach you that just as much as I can. You have them in every sport out there: agitators. You are about to start the independent circuit. Thousands of women and men will do whatever it takes, and you need to be able to control yourself in the ring. Including those agitators, so that’s why he does that,” she says, as her hands find her jean pockets to rest in.
“So basically deal with it?” she asks, looking at her mentor.
“Pretty much, because my sweet Mad Max, there’s a lot of assholes in this business, and to be the best, you can’t let it get under your skin.”
They reach the shop, and Maxine heads straight to a punching bag over by the ring. Meghan smiles as her soon to be husband slips up behind her. He slides his arm around her waist and leans and kisses her cheek.
“Good talk? She going to take a kick at my nuts?” he asks, half-serious in his query about his teste.
“Yeah, she’s a good kid. She understands, or if she doesn’t, she is very close to it. We keep taking the long route. There’s no doubt in my mind she could carry on the legacy of the Cowgirls.”
The smacks of Max’s hands hitting the bag echo throughout the shop. Meghan pulls out her phone and snaps a couple of pics of her protégé. She nudges Dustin.
“Check out this artwork Max did outside! It is excellent!”
Meghan opens the image and watches her man through the corner of his eye for his reaction. He looks quietly in thought before speaking.
“It’s good, but my eyes aren’t that beady.”
“That’s what I said,” she said, laughing, as she leaned in to kiss her husband.
Salt Lake City, Utah
February 8th, 2021
Meghan and Tamika Nash Strader sat on their motorcycles in front of a Moron church to look out at the sulphur soaked city in the State of Utah in the night sky. They turn their heads forward, now looking towards the church, but more specifically us and the camera lens. The sisters are dressed to ride their Harleys in blue jeans, black leather riding boots worn outside the pants cuffs, leather jackets similar to that of the T-800 Cyberdyne Systems Model 101 in James Cameron’s epic sequel to 1984’s The Terminator. Meghan has one thing that her sister does not, and that’s the Revolution1 Wrestling Tag Team Championship that sits fastened around Meghan’s waist, resting upon the top of her hips. One-half of The Cowgirls From Hell, who is also Beauty of ‘Beauty and the Beast’ with Drago Santiago, and the champion speaks first.
“Revolution1 Wrestling, I did what I said I was going to do, and that was to become a tag team champion,” she says with a confidence that befits a champion. “The Beast and I went into the Pay Per View New Years Daze in London, England, and we put Amelia and Portia in their place. When I pinned Portia and Drago prevented Amelia from stopping it, we made history, and not only am I Cowgirl, but I am also the Beauty.”
“Well, at least you remembered,” Tamika said quietly to herself, but perhaps too loud as Meghan catches it, glaring at her sister. “While I may not hold the other half of this championship, it doesn’t mean the Cowgirls From Hell stopped from raising hell and taking over wherever we go.”
“She isn’t wrong, Revo1. We have been in this game a long time, and while things change and evolve, certain things stay constant. We are that constant. We are third-generation wrestlers from a wrestling dynasty. Other teams throughout the profession of wrestling only wish they could have half the chemistry that we have,” she says sharply to the camera.
“Or Beauty and the Beast,” she adds, not looking at her sister and continuing before she can respond. “Being third generation talent, with fourth-generation starting to make a name for herself, we have seen a lot of different people come and go over the years. From farmers to bikers to evil overlords to Pinky and, yes, The Brain. We have seen it all.”
“We know a guy by the name of Jacob Figgins; he is the protagonist of his own Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. A seven-foot Canadian thinks the USPS employs him over in Project: Honor. A rich farming heiress that is teamed with Mr. Broody himself, Matt Knox in Uprising!”
“Isn’t there also a dragon in Uprising?”
“Yes, and a horny old man who is managing my former protégé,” she adds with a bitterness that drips like an ice-cold dagger in the back. “So, as we said, we have seen it all. Take Katarina ‘Cerise’ Starr, for example. She honestly thinks she is from a place called The Forsaken, yet she was raised in a socialite type family. So right there, it tells me she is living in an alternate reality, like seventy-one million registered US voters.”
Even though we can see the cracks in their partnership starting, the Strader women’s eyes roll as if on cue at the same time.
“We can’t forget about Damien ‘Khaos’ Carter, either. I mean, if we were playing Griffins and Gargoyles, we would have our Hellcaster!”
“Griffins and Gargoyles?”
“Yeah, don’t you watch Riverdale on the CW Wednesday nights (check your local listings) with the episode hitting Netflix Thursdays!” she says with an advertising type of spunk.
BABONG!!!!! (Netflix sound)
“Was that the Netflix sound? Where did that come from? Did you just do a paid advertisement in the middle of our promo?” Meghan asks, more curious than furious. Hey, that rhymed.
“I don’t know what you are talking about, but see Archie and the gang graduate!”
BABONG!!!!!
“Would you stop that already?”
“Hey, I am just showing I have magical powers too!”
“What, that you can make the Netflix sound? Don’t do it,” Meghan adds with a flat, unimpressed tone. “Anyway, Cerise, Khaos, that sound you are hearing? That’s the sound of hoofbeats.”
“And we are taking over this town. Half of us anyway.”
“Listen it’s not my fault you got paired with a flake and it cost you a shot at the straps.”
The scene fades onto the arguing Cowgirls, leaving us wondering if a split is coming or not. Tune tomorrow night. Same Bat Time, Same Bat Channel!