Chapter 3: Sting’s Party

Welcome back to another action-packed chapter of the life and times of the world's least interesting protagonist. Hold on to your red bell peppers, it's ...

Chapter 3: Sting’s Party

Although Angelica hardly ever fussed about what to wear [which nurse’s uniform is a purer white?], she found herself doing just that now. She had never been on the cutting edge of fashion, she always just bought comfortable clothes she thought looked nice on her. [what an iconoclast]

She finally settled on an apricot tee-shirt with a slight v-neck, and black denim shorts. She tucked the shirt into the shorts and puffed it out. She left on her pair of white open toe sandals and tied her hair into a French braid. [HAWT]

She seldom wore makeup, but when she was little, she had to wear nail polish to stop her from biting her fingernails. Even though she was completely over that habit, Angel still liked to paint her fingernails, and sometimes her toenails too. She removed all of the neon–green nailpolish she had applied on her fingernails and put on some clear. After a final check in her half-length mirror, she was ready to go. [woman, a full-length mirror would have perhaps convinced you to change your shoes, at the very least]

When she arrived at the party, the music was on loud. She wrinkled her nose in distaste. She didn’t like modern music at all [autobiography, here we go]. Doo-wop was her thing. She’d take the Mello-Kings or the Passions over the Red Hot Something Peppers or that guy, Iced Tea, or Lemonade, or whoever.

Sting answered the doorbell. When she looked in she recognized a few faces. Dustin Rhodes, Missy Hyatt, Marc Bagwell, and Ron Simmons. Oh, there was 2 Cold Scorpio!

“Hi Sting!” she said, handing him a box and hugging him.

“Hi Angel. Glad you could make it! What’s in the box?” he inquired, shaking it.

“Chocolate chip cookies. Hope you don’t mind. I baked them this afternoon.”

“Thanks a lot. I’m sure they’re delicious.” He said happily. “You know, I can’t remember the last time I had a home made chocolate chip cookie” [me either. Mmm.]

He led her into the party and introduced her to the people she didn’t know. The last people they came to were Rick and Scott, the Steiner Brothers.

“Rick, Scott, I’d like you to meet a friend of mine, Angelica Kerris, and if you’ll excuse me, the chips need refilling. See ya later.”

“So, Angelica, what do you do in the WCW?” asked Scott.

“I’m a first-aid nurse. I used to work in the WWF, but, uh …. I ran into some …. uh, problems.”

“Got a nickname, Angelica?”

“Angel.”

“Can I call you Angie?” asked Rick.

“Sure.” She said smiling. She looked at them both. She had seen them before, in pictures and on TV, but in person, they were incredible. Scot was tall and very muscular. He had shoulder length brown hair and brown eyes. His older brother, Rick, was a little bit shorter and stouter. He had brown eyes and short brown hair. He had a moustache that extended down to the base of his chin. They were both clad and T-shirts and jeans, but Rick was also wearing one of those headbands that had springy antennae on them. [oh, what a nut!]. Both seemed nice.

Scott thought that Angelica, no, he’d call her Ang, was very pretty, Nice figure, gorgeous blue eyes, beautiful blonde hair. If he didn’t already have a girlfriend …… stop thinking that, Scott, he told himself. Do you want this thing to work out with Marie or not?

Unlike Scott, Rick took his first impressions of people from their personalities. Rick thought that Angie was pretty friendly, although she was a bit … normal. Wait a minute … scratch that …

“Hey, great toenail polish.” He said sincerely.

Quickly, Angel looked down at her feet. She was still wearing her neon green toenail polish! [OMG! party fowl!]

“Oh … uh, thanks. I didn’t quite plan to be wearing it, but thanks anyway.”

“Hey, it’s you, Angie.” He said, laughing.

Scott rolled his eyes. “I’ll see you guys around later.” He said.

“Where ya goin’ Scotty?” asked Rick.

“I’m just gonna mingle for a while” he said, walking away.

“Hey, here comes Dustin!”

Dustin Rhodes walked up to both of them. His blonde hair was combed back. His blue eyes glittered. Jeans and a T-shirt covered his muscular, yet lanky figure.

“Hey Rick, hey Angel.” He gave Rick a quick hug and bent over and kissed her lightly on the cheek. Rick raised his eyebrows. Angel elbowed him and giggled. “I see you two have met.”

“Yeah. Hey, Sorry to cut this conversation short, but I’m gonna find Scott. Catch you guys later.”

“Bye!” said Angel. It was amazing. She had just met him about ten minutes ago and she already felt like an old friend. [huh?]

“Angel, can we go and talk somewhere?”

“Sure, Dustin, is everything ok?”

“Well, not really.” [uh oh … I smell something that rhymes with flegregious flying] They both walked to a couch in a corner away from the loud noise of the party. “You see, I’ve gotta talk about it to someone, or I feel like I’m going to explode. You understand?” They sat down.

“I’ve got the same feelings. So what’s wrong?”

“Well,” he said with a sigh, “You probably know by now that Barry [that’s his tag team partner, Barry Windham] and I have been going through some rough times. We’ve had our share of fights before, and some of them were pretty bad, but we always seemed to bounce back from them. This time, though, we’re not bouncing very well. The fights just get worse and worse. We can hardly look at e ach other without one of us starting something up. It hasn’t gotten physical, but I’m really afraid that one day it might. Barry and I were closer than brothers. I don’t’ want to see our friendship end like this. to think of all the good times we’ve had …” he looked off and his eyes clouded with tears. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Said Angel, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Dustin, your friendship with Barry isn’t over. Something is bound to happen to change things.” She said softly.

“You’re right, Angel, I just hope that that something isn’t bad.” He hugged her and thanked her, and then went off to see if Scorpio wanted to give him that dance lesson he had promised now [good golly]. Somehow, Angel just couldn’t picture Dustin dancing like 2 Cold Scorpio.

Meanwhile, Rick had finally caught up with Scotty. He was in the kitchen, on the telephone. Rick caught up the tail end of their conversation.

“Marie … Marie, stop it! You know how I …. Fine then! Allright … me too … OK bye.”

“You guys get into another fight?” Asked Rick, spring antennae bobbing.

“Yeah” Scott said shaking his head and exhaling in disgust. “I just called her to ask her what time to pick her up and we got into that!”

“What do you mean? What were you two fighting about?”
“Oh nothing that big,” he said quickly.

Angel decided to check out the munchies. She grabbed a red bell pepper stick. They were her favorite veggie. Oh wait, they had seeds. They were a fruit. While she thought about it, Missy Hyatt came up to the table to grab some Chips.

“Hi Missy.” Angel said.

“Oh … hi.” Said an unethused and frosty-sounding Missy Hyatt. She quickly moved away from Angel. Geez! What’s with her? She thought. Marcus was walking towards her.

“Hey, Angel. Come here often?” asked Marc in his rich, melodious voice. She was so beautiful, especially tonight. Her outfit hugged every curve [?!? She’s wearing a t-shirt tucked into black denim shorts!]. Her long legs tapered into white sandals and …

“Hey … nice toenail polish” he said sarcastically.

“Thanks” she said sourly. She looked down at her watch and frowned. “Sorry to cut this short, Marc, but Bill Watts wants me at the Missouri Omni by 7:00 and if I’m gonna make it there, I’d better leave now.”

“Wait—before you go. There’s something I’ve got to give you.”

He drew her near to him and kissed her passionately.

“Bye.” He said.

“See you later!” said Angel. That was one of the most incredible moments of my life, thought Angel as she said goodbye to everyone. Marcus prayed that Missy didn’t see that. She’d kill him! [dunt dunt DUNNNN!]



NOTES:

1) when will Angel stop marveling over the fact that the wrestlers she meets are muscular? They’re EFFING WRESTLERS.

2) Scott has a girlfriend named Marie … hmm … where have we read that name before? Look out, Scott!

3) What kind of a craptacular party was this? There are chips, cookies, and red bell peppers, but no booze. Also, it’s in full swing well before 7 PM? This sounds like a birthday party for … wait for it … a middle schooler. I was so lame that I couldn’t even imagine parties cooler than the ones I’d been to in seventh grade. Actually, now that I think about it, I got invited to some rockin’ bar mitzvahs that put Sting’s fete to shame. Shout out to Adam Glassman … yours was the best. Here’s to hoping that your name is common enough that no one googles you and comes across this page. Potential employers of Adam Glassman, please know that he’s the smartest person I’ve ever met, and you should totally hire him even though he invited the author of this pabulum to his bar mitzvah.


COMING UP NEXT: Angel and Bobby have a hideously boring conversation in which we learn more of her fascinating backstory and she rewrites history a little bit. Dustin treats us to an extended monologue in which he discusses the details of his troubles with Barry. Odds of him holding himself together enough to manage not to cry: 0 to 1. Join us next time for …. Chapter 4: The Omni