Hail, fearless readers. Last week, Jeff nauseated the entire galaxy by singing the praises of Angel's lips. This week, our stomach linings are granted a reprieve: today's chapter is approximately 87% Angel-Free. Whee!
Chapter 56: The Other Half (part I)
Angel felt as if her insides were made of gelatin. What had just happened? She grinned. Her phone rang.
“No way. He can’t be calling that soon,” she reasoned. But her heart leapt at the idea. But the caller ID was Dustin. [caller ID! Ha! Remember that?] She turned the ringer off and went to bed.
------
“Chris? You in there somewhere?” Justina asked, waving her arms theatrically in front of his face.
“Yeah … Yeah. Sorry, Foss. I’m just …”
“Thinking about the blonde.”
“How did you know she was blonde?”
“Benoit, you have a picture of her in your wallet.” [does anyone actually carry pictures of their girlfriends in their wallets?]
“Where did you get my wallet?”
“It’s open here on the end table. You should really keep track of it better.”
“Yeah. Hey, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Look … I know things are really confusing for you right now. I’m sorry I complicated everything.”
“Two to tango, Foss.”
“I know. Look, Chris … I didn’t want to ruin your life.”
Chris put his hands on her shoulders and looked at her intently. “Foss, you didn’t ruin anything. I’ve just got to sort some things out.”
She took his hands into hers and kissed them. “I have to go to work. I’ll see you later.”
Chris kissed her forehead and began to pack up his gear [woo! Duffel bagging!]. He exchanged nods and smiles with the other wrestlers who filtered through the dressing room and headed into the corridor. [sooo … this whole exchange took place in a dressing room? What was Justina doing there? Why would Chris have his wallet out on a table? How many dressing/locker rooms feature end tables?]
“Hey,” someone called behind him. Chris spun around to see Dustin Rhodes.
“What?”
“You going to tell me what’s going on with Angel?” [woah, that’s a bit forward, no?]
Chris put his bags down.
“Why the hell should I? You’re the one who screwed us up in the first place. So just back off, Rodeo Clown. I have nothing to explain to you. I owe you nothing.”
“Fair enough. Look, I know you have no reason to trust me or listen to me. And I also know that you and Angel’s relationship is none of my business … But I’m worried about her.”
“Dustin, I know she’s upset, but …”
“No—it’s not that. Chris, she left a bar last night with Jeff Hardy.”
“Jeff Hardy?”
“Yes. And when I tried to stop her, she went berserk on me. Chris, that fella is just no good. Parties all the time … with a different woman every night. Now, I’m not telling you what to do or how to run your love life, but I am telling you that you were so good for Angel, and I feel like a piece of garbage for getting in between y’all, and I’d do anything to get her away from that creep. I’ve said my piece.” [how patronizingly thoughtful of you]
Chris was silent. He clenched his jaw and offered his hand to Dustin.
“I appreciate that, Dustin. She doesn’t want to talk to me right now, and I don’t blame her. I screwed up bad. Bad. It’s going to take time. And my life is really confusing right now. So please, if you could, look after her as best you can?”
“Sure thing, Chris,” said Dustin, shaking Chris’s hand.
Chris ran his fingers through his hair, [ah, the classic physical manifestation of angst] picked up his bags, and left the arena.
NOTES:
1) Don’t you love it when male characters ask other male characters to “look after” female characters as if they were small children? Way to be progressive, college me.
2) I love how everyone knows Jeff Hardy well enough to have heard of him both as a wrestler and as a womanizer, but Angel couldn’t recognize him at the bar.
3) I kind of liked Chris in this chapter. Until he started showing concern for Angel.
COMING UP NEXT ....
In this chapter's exciting conclusion, Angel talks to various people on the phone. Wait, let me read it over again ... yeah, no, it's just talking to people on the phone. That's it.
See you next time for ...
Chapter 56: The Other Half (Part II)
Showing posts with label mis-imagined dressing room. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mis-imagined dressing room. Show all posts
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Chapter 45 - No Secrets (Part I)
Welcome back to UnabashedlyBad.com, your only internet source for crap of this caliber.
Last week: Angel tried to be a wallflower so she could mope about how she hasn't talked to her big brother in years for no reason wahtsoever. Despite her most valiant efforts, her intense personal charm thrust her into the middle of the festivities.
Today: Arn starts rockin' the Changel boat. Ruh-roh!!!
Chapter 45 – No Secrets (Part I)
Chris sat in his Saint Paul Holiday Inn room, letting tears that he had been holding back for days fall from his eyes [huzzah!].
It had been Arn Anderson who had given him this awful news. Now of course Chris knew Arn shouldn’t be trusted, but still …
Chris was trying on his latest ring jacket in front of the full length mirror in his Tokyo Egg Dome dressing room. There was a knock at the door. [After all that progress I’ve made in un-misimagining dressing rooms … sigh]
“It’s open!”
Arn Anderson walked in reading papers on a clipboard. [what is he, a camp counselor?]
“Well, well, well. We’re dressing-roommates.”
“Whoopee,” Chris said sourly.
“Benoit, you’ll change your mind once you hear what I’ve got to say.”
“You expect me to listen to you after nearly destroying my best friend’s marriage?” Chris whirled and looked at him, then shook his head and rummaged around in a duffel bag.
“This doesn’t concern Eaton.”
“Do you ever refer to anyone by their first name, Arnie?”
Arn ignored his question. “It concerns you an Angelica.”
Chris’s head jerked up. He moved over to Arn.
“What’ve you done to Angel?”
“Relax. It’s not what I’ve done to her, it’s what she’s doing to you … and other guys.”
“I don’t’ know what you’re talking about – and I don’t care. “
“Oh, but you should.”
“Arnie, I’m a busy guy.”
“And she’s a busy woman.”
“If I listen to you, will you leave me alone?”
Satisfied, Arn plopped down in a folding chair. “How can I put this gently …”
“Say your piece and leave,” Chris said firmly, sitting opposite Arn on a folding chair.
“Well, it seems your sweet little Angle isn’t as perfect as you had once thought. Seems that she wasn’t so faithful.”
“What are you saying?” [is it that confusing, Chris?]
“Just before you left for Japan, she became very intimately involved with Dustin Rhodes.”
“Arn, even if I believed you, which I don’t – you have no proof.”
“Oh I don’t? Then explain this.”
The tape Arn had played for Chris was muffled and garbled at parts, but he could clearly understand the voices of Bobby Eaton and Angel.
“… Between you and me …”
“Sure.”
“Yesterday … Dustin Rhodes … we were kissing each other.”
“ … Tell Chris?”
“… No …”
The rest of the tape was fuzzy.
Arn patted Chris on the head and left – with the tape – chuckling to himself.
Chris’ mouth hung open. His Angel? He had never felt so empty. But things were bound to get worse. And they did very soon.
TO BE CONTINUED ...
NOTES:
1) Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh SNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP. Arn, you're such a card. Also, not that I'm not grateful, but why the heck did you put a tape recorder in Angel's office? I think it might rhyme with "flot fontrivance."
2) Why is Chris always either in various states of wrestling gear undress or rummaging around in a duffel bag? I'm going to start a new tag to keep track of this. I'll call it: duffel bagging/state of undress.
COMING UP NEXT ...
Chris begins to deal with the fallout whilst Violet's Evil Plan plods on. BONUS: super gross make-out scene. You won't want to miss ...
Chapter 45 - No Secrets (Part II)
Last week: Angel tried to be a wallflower so she could mope about how she hasn't talked to her big brother in years for no reason wahtsoever. Despite her most valiant efforts, her intense personal charm thrust her into the middle of the festivities.
Today: Arn starts rockin' the Changel boat. Ruh-roh!!!
Chapter 45 – No Secrets (Part I)
Chris sat in his Saint Paul Holiday Inn room, letting tears that he had been holding back for days fall from his eyes [huzzah!].
It had been Arn Anderson who had given him this awful news. Now of course Chris knew Arn shouldn’t be trusted, but still …
Chris was trying on his latest ring jacket in front of the full length mirror in his Tokyo Egg Dome dressing room. There was a knock at the door. [After all that progress I’ve made in un-misimagining dressing rooms … sigh]
“It’s open!”
Arn Anderson walked in reading papers on a clipboard. [what is he, a camp counselor?]
“Well, well, well. We’re dressing-roommates.”
“Whoopee,” Chris said sourly.
“Benoit, you’ll change your mind once you hear what I’ve got to say.”
“You expect me to listen to you after nearly destroying my best friend’s marriage?” Chris whirled and looked at him, then shook his head and rummaged around in a duffel bag.
“This doesn’t concern Eaton.”
“Do you ever refer to anyone by their first name, Arnie?”
Arn ignored his question. “It concerns you an Angelica.”
Chris’s head jerked up. He moved over to Arn.
“What’ve you done to Angel?”
“Relax. It’s not what I’ve done to her, it’s what she’s doing to you … and other guys.”
“I don’t’ know what you’re talking about – and I don’t care. “
“Oh, but you should.”
“Arnie, I’m a busy guy.”
“And she’s a busy woman.”
“If I listen to you, will you leave me alone?”
Satisfied, Arn plopped down in a folding chair. “How can I put this gently …”
“Say your piece and leave,” Chris said firmly, sitting opposite Arn on a folding chair.
“Well, it seems your sweet little Angle isn’t as perfect as you had once thought. Seems that she wasn’t so faithful.”
“What are you saying?” [is it that confusing, Chris?]
“Just before you left for Japan, she became very intimately involved with Dustin Rhodes.”
“Arn, even if I believed you, which I don’t – you have no proof.”
“Oh I don’t? Then explain this.”
The tape Arn had played for Chris was muffled and garbled at parts, but he could clearly understand the voices of Bobby Eaton and Angel.
“… Between you and me …”
“Sure.”
“Yesterday … Dustin Rhodes … we were kissing each other.”
“ … Tell Chris?”
“… No …”
The rest of the tape was fuzzy.
Arn patted Chris on the head and left – with the tape – chuckling to himself.
Chris’ mouth hung open. His Angel? He had never felt so empty. But things were bound to get worse. And they did very soon.
TO BE CONTINUED ...
NOTES:
1) Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh SNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP. Arn, you're such a card. Also, not that I'm not grateful, but why the heck did you put a tape recorder in Angel's office? I think it might rhyme with "flot fontrivance."
2) Why is Chris always either in various states of wrestling gear undress or rummaging around in a duffel bag? I'm going to start a new tag to keep track of this. I'll call it: duffel bagging/state of undress.
COMING UP NEXT ...
Chris begins to deal with the fallout whilst Violet's Evil Plan plods on. BONUS: super gross make-out scene. You won't want to miss ...
Chapter 45 - No Secrets (Part II)
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Chapter 22: Forgive, but Don't Forget (part 2)
Angel spent the first half of this chapter writing a useless letter to Chris. Now we get to witness her intense confrontation with Marcus. I guarantee disappointment in the thrilling conclusion to ...
Chapter 22: Forgive, but Don't Forget (Part 2)
Angel took a deep breath and knocked on Marcus Bagwell’s dressing room door. [we’re back to everyone having his/her own dressing room?] This wasn’t going to be easy.
Marcus opened the door. He saw Angel and nearly slammed it on her, but she stopped him.
“Wait! Marcus, I want to talk to you.”
“What?” he asked impatiently.
“I … I’m sorry.”
“What?” his voice raised about 8 octaves. [impressive]
“Can I come in?”
“I guess.”
Angel stopped into the dressing room. Scorpio was sitting on a folding chair in the back. He got up when he saw Angel.
“Hey, Angel. I’ll be in the gym, Marc.”
“Bye Scorpio.”
“Be down soon,” he called.
“Look, Marcus, I’m sorry for reacting so harshly when you tried to apologize to me.”
“Angel, none of this is your fault. Just seeing you again, just talking to you again, makes me realize what a fool I’ve been. Angel, what I did to you was the most foolish thing I’ve ever done. I loved you. I still love you, Angel.” He took her hand.
Angel was speechless. [probably because he’s not crying yet]
“Will you consider taking me back?” he asked.
“I … Marcus, you turn my friends against me, and now you want me back?”
“I’m sorry! Can’t you see how much I need you?”
“Marc, I’m in love with Chris. I can’t take you back.”
“I understand.” [that was quick]
“Good. Look, I’ve got to go. Take care, OK?”
“Sure.”
Angel left hurriedly. Marcus had totally surprised her. She figured that he’d just accept her apology, maybe apologize to her, then she’d leave and they could possibly be friends. She definitely had another thing coming to her. Now all she wanted to do was be with Chris. She missed him so much! Tomorrow seemed like a far star in the distance.
NOTES:
1)Marcus ... can't you just count your blessings that you got out while the getting was good? Go blow dry your hair and make out with someone.
2) As inconceivable as 97% of this blog is, I've totally encountered undumpable guys. Why don't people just take a hint? If someone wants to break up with you, just have the grace to let them. Would you really want to be with someone you have to talk into dating you??? Also, someone should have told me this when I was 16, because I did it too.
COMING UP NEXT ... Angel meets Chris at the airport and engages in some of the least witty repartee ever written. Join us next time (mayhaps tomorrow) for ...
Chapter 23: The Return
Chapter 22: Forgive, but Don't Forget (Part 2)
Angel took a deep breath and knocked on Marcus Bagwell’s dressing room door. [we’re back to everyone having his/her own dressing room?] This wasn’t going to be easy.
Marcus opened the door. He saw Angel and nearly slammed it on her, but she stopped him.
“Wait! Marcus, I want to talk to you.”
“What?” he asked impatiently.
“I … I’m sorry.”
“What?” his voice raised about 8 octaves. [impressive]
“Can I come in?”
“I guess.”
Angel stopped into the dressing room. Scorpio was sitting on a folding chair in the back. He got up when he saw Angel.
“Hey, Angel. I’ll be in the gym, Marc.”
“Bye Scorpio.”
“Be down soon,” he called.
“Look, Marcus, I’m sorry for reacting so harshly when you tried to apologize to me.”
“Angel, none of this is your fault. Just seeing you again, just talking to you again, makes me realize what a fool I’ve been. Angel, what I did to you was the most foolish thing I’ve ever done. I loved you. I still love you, Angel.” He took her hand.
Angel was speechless. [probably because he’s not crying yet]
“Will you consider taking me back?” he asked.
“I … Marcus, you turn my friends against me, and now you want me back?”
“I’m sorry! Can’t you see how much I need you?”
“Marc, I’m in love with Chris. I can’t take you back.”
“I understand.” [that was quick]
“Good. Look, I’ve got to go. Take care, OK?”
“Sure.”
Angel left hurriedly. Marcus had totally surprised her. She figured that he’d just accept her apology, maybe apologize to her, then she’d leave and they could possibly be friends. She definitely had another thing coming to her. Now all she wanted to do was be with Chris. She missed him so much! Tomorrow seemed like a far star in the distance.
NOTES:
1)Marcus ... can't you just count your blessings that you got out while the getting was good? Go blow dry your hair and make out with someone.
2) As inconceivable as 97% of this blog is, I've totally encountered undumpable guys. Why don't people just take a hint? If someone wants to break up with you, just have the grace to let them. Would you really want to be with someone you have to talk into dating you??? Also, someone should have told me this when I was 16, because I did it too.
COMING UP NEXT ... Angel meets Chris at the airport and engages in some of the least witty repartee ever written. Join us next time (mayhaps tomorrow) for ...
Chapter 23: The Return
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Chapter 1: Introductions
Well, I can tell by both the handwriting and the wrestling references that time has passed. I’m going to guess that I was 13-14 when I wrote most of these stories, but I didn’t start putting dates next to them until the next marble notebook. Anyhoo, in my advanced age, I decided that calling my heroine “Anjel” was too immature. I figured that Charlotte Theodosia must be a WWF stage name, and that her real name was Angelica Kerris. Never fear, this wasn’t a signal that I was going to start writing compelling prose. It’s all still dreck. Drecky, drecky dreck.
Chapter 1: Introductions
“Allright Ms. Kerris here is your 4 year contract as a fist-aid Nurse to WCW.”
Angelica signed it.
“Congratulations, Ms. Kerris.” Said Ole Anderson
“Thank you, Mr. Watts, Mr. Anderson/”
“You begin tomorrow at 9:00 AM. Bill will show you around the building you’ll be in – the Columbus Areana.” continued Ole.
When they arrived at the areana, Bill Watts showed her her office and where all of the medical supplies were located. He the led her around the rest of the building and to where all of the exits were. [safety first!]
“Now I believe some of the wrestlers are already here—why don’t we go and meet them?” Asked Bill Watts. [what are they doing at an empty arena? And what is Angel going to do when she gets there tomorrow at 9 AM? I’ve been to plenty of wrestling cards, and they pretty much all start at night]
Mr. Watts led her to the “Face” dressing room. The Columbus Arena was small, so all of the “good guys” shared a dressing room, and all of the “bad guys” shared another. [ooh, I’m getting closer to a realistic portrayal of dressing rooms.]
Mr. Watts knocked on the door. Angelica smoothed her pure white nurse’s outfit. “Everybody I’d like you to meet WCW’s new nurse, Ms. Angelica Kerris.”
“Well, Mr. Watts, everybody is just me.” Said a male voice with a Georgian accent. [Ang just can’t get away from those Georgia peaches]. Out of the dressing room stepped a man with brown hair. ??He was wearing a tee-shirt and jeans. He offered his hand to Angelica.
“Nice to meet you” said Angelica gazing into his deep pools of brown eyes [eew?]. He was gorgeous. A living dream.
“Likewise. My name is Marcus Alexander Bagwell. My friends call me Marc.”
“I’m Angelica, but my nickname is Angel.”
“By the looks of you, the name fits.” [hurl!]
She blushed. They stared at each other for a few more seconds. Then they both looked away, embarrassed that Bill Watts was looking on. “See you around Angel.” “You too Marc.”
They left the Dressing Room and headed for the “heel” Dressing Room.
“Don’t expect the same respect from this bunch.” Mr. Watts said and knocked on the door.
“C’mon in, make it quick” called a male voice with a deep, gravely sound. In the room, Mr. Watts introduced Rick Rude, Bobby Eaton, Arn Anderson, and Leon White (aka Big Van Vader).
“Hey guys, check it out!” Said the gravely voice, belonging to Big Van Vader. He whistled.
“Hey Leon, whatsa matter, never seen a lady before?” said Rick Rude.
“Probably not.” Laughed Arn.
“Shut up!” grunted Vader.
“Okay, all of you, calm down. This is Angelica Kerris, WCW’s new nurse.” Said Bill Watts.
“Well, Well. Ms. Kerris, I do believe you’ll be seeing many of my opponents in your infirmary, even though I’m sure you’d rather see more of me.” Said Rick Rude, kissing the air.
Vader and Arn laughed. Rick, Vader and Arn all left the dressing room. Bobby rose and said: “Welcome to WCW, Ms. Kerris. Don’t mind my friends, they’re always like that.” he smiled a little and offered her his hand. “I’m Bobby Eaton.”
“Nice to meet you, Bobby.”
“Nice to meet you too, now if you’ll excuse me I have to go join my friends.” He left and so did Bill and Angel. “He seems nice.” Angel said, Bill Watts said nothing. Bill left Angel in her office to prepare for the upcoming card. Meanwhile Bobby had caught up with Rick, Leon, and his best friend, Arn in the halls.
“Hey Bob.” Greeted Arn.
“Hey.” He said back. [good GOLLY this is going slowly. Why was I so obsessed with documenting every nicety?]
“So were you flirting with the nurse, or just sucking up to the V.P.?” teased Leon.
“Hey, Hey, Hey! Now Leon, we all know Bobby isn’t that type of guy. He was definitely hitting on her!” joked Rick.
“I was just trying to make a friend.” He said glaring at them both. “Good friends are hard to find around here” [BURN!] he said and walked away. Arn walked after him.
“Hey Bobby, lighten up. They were only joking around. Don’t you think you’re overreacting a little?” said Arn.
Bobby looked down and sighed. “I guess I am. It’s just that those guys make me so mad sometimes I could just spit nails.”
“Yeah those guys get to me too sometimes. Hey, what did go on between you and that nurse?”
“All I did was say that it was nice to meet her and I introduced myself. I don’t believe you’d actually ask me that. I expected you of all people to understand that I love my wife and wouldn’t even think of glancing at another woman like that.”
“Sorry.” Said Arn. In truth, Arn was shocked that Bobby had said that much. Bobby was a man of few words. Hey, let’s get to the gym, we’ve got to train for our match tonight.” Bobby nodded and they continued down the hall.
Bobby’s friendship with Angelica would prove to be one of the best he’d ever had. She stuck by him when things with Arn weren’t going so smoothly…….
Coming up next: Chapter 2: New Friends, New Enemies, in which Angel meets a bunch more people, most of whom you’ll never see again. Bonus: an African-American character with “street smarts” … I’m so, so, sorry, world.
Notes:
1) Y’all, Marcus Alexander Bagwell was totally a hottie back in the day.
2) Ok, Bobby Eaton. I think I can explain this one. I didn’t think he was hot, and he wasn’t a particularly exciting wrestler to watch. I was just fixated on him for a while because I read an interview in a wrestling magazine where he was described as “a man of few words.” He was indeed particularly taciturn in the interview. And that to me seemed endlessly fascinating for whatever reason. Interesting side note: I totally dated a couple guys just because I thought that because they were quiet, they were interesting. In actuality, they were either completely boring or completely crazy.
3) I know that was kind of dull. It gets better. I promise.
Chapter 1: Introductions
“Allright Ms. Kerris here is your 4 year contract as a fist-aid Nurse to WCW.”
Angelica signed it.
“Congratulations, Ms. Kerris.” Said Ole Anderson
“Thank you, Mr. Watts, Mr. Anderson/”
“You begin tomorrow at 9:00 AM. Bill will show you around the building you’ll be in – the Columbus Areana.” continued Ole.
When they arrived at the areana, Bill Watts showed her her office and where all of the medical supplies were located. He the led her around the rest of the building and to where all of the exits were. [safety first!]
“Now I believe some of the wrestlers are already here—why don’t we go and meet them?” Asked Bill Watts. [what are they doing at an empty arena? And what is Angel going to do when she gets there tomorrow at 9 AM? I’ve been to plenty of wrestling cards, and they pretty much all start at night]
Mr. Watts led her to the “Face” dressing room. The Columbus Arena was small, so all of the “good guys” shared a dressing room, and all of the “bad guys” shared another. [ooh, I’m getting closer to a realistic portrayal of dressing rooms.]
Mr. Watts knocked on the door. Angelica smoothed her pure white nurse’s outfit. “Everybody I’d like you to meet WCW’s new nurse, Ms. Angelica Kerris.”
“Well, Mr. Watts, everybody is just me.” Said a male voice with a Georgian accent. [Ang just can’t get away from those Georgia peaches]. Out of the dressing room stepped a man with brown hair. ??He was wearing a tee-shirt and jeans. He offered his hand to Angelica.
“Nice to meet you” said Angelica gazing into his deep pools of brown eyes [eew?]. He was gorgeous. A living dream.
“Likewise. My name is Marcus Alexander Bagwell. My friends call me Marc.”
“I’m Angelica, but my nickname is Angel.”
“By the looks of you, the name fits.” [hurl!]
She blushed. They stared at each other for a few more seconds. Then they both looked away, embarrassed that Bill Watts was looking on. “See you around Angel.” “You too Marc.”
They left the Dressing Room and headed for the “heel” Dressing Room.
“Don’t expect the same respect from this bunch.” Mr. Watts said and knocked on the door.
“C’mon in, make it quick” called a male voice with a deep, gravely sound. In the room, Mr. Watts introduced Rick Rude, Bobby Eaton, Arn Anderson, and Leon White (aka Big Van Vader).
“Hey guys, check it out!” Said the gravely voice, belonging to Big Van Vader. He whistled.
“Hey Leon, whatsa matter, never seen a lady before?” said Rick Rude.
“Probably not.” Laughed Arn.
“Shut up!” grunted Vader.
“Okay, all of you, calm down. This is Angelica Kerris, WCW’s new nurse.” Said Bill Watts.
“Well, Well. Ms. Kerris, I do believe you’ll be seeing many of my opponents in your infirmary, even though I’m sure you’d rather see more of me.” Said Rick Rude, kissing the air.
Vader and Arn laughed. Rick, Vader and Arn all left the dressing room. Bobby rose and said: “Welcome to WCW, Ms. Kerris. Don’t mind my friends, they’re always like that.” he smiled a little and offered her his hand. “I’m Bobby Eaton.”
“Nice to meet you, Bobby.”
“Nice to meet you too, now if you’ll excuse me I have to go join my friends.” He left and so did Bill and Angel. “He seems nice.” Angel said, Bill Watts said nothing. Bill left Angel in her office to prepare for the upcoming card. Meanwhile Bobby had caught up with Rick, Leon, and his best friend, Arn in the halls.
“Hey Bob.” Greeted Arn.
“Hey.” He said back. [good GOLLY this is going slowly. Why was I so obsessed with documenting every nicety?]
“So were you flirting with the nurse, or just sucking up to the V.P.?” teased Leon.
“Hey, Hey, Hey! Now Leon, we all know Bobby isn’t that type of guy. He was definitely hitting on her!” joked Rick.
“I was just trying to make a friend.” He said glaring at them both. “Good friends are hard to find around here” [BURN!] he said and walked away. Arn walked after him.
“Hey Bobby, lighten up. They were only joking around. Don’t you think you’re overreacting a little?” said Arn.
Bobby looked down and sighed. “I guess I am. It’s just that those guys make me so mad sometimes I could just spit nails.”
“Yeah those guys get to me too sometimes. Hey, what did go on between you and that nurse?”
“All I did was say that it was nice to meet her and I introduced myself. I don’t believe you’d actually ask me that. I expected you of all people to understand that I love my wife and wouldn’t even think of glancing at another woman like that.”
“Sorry.” Said Arn. In truth, Arn was shocked that Bobby had said that much. Bobby was a man of few words. Hey, let’s get to the gym, we’ve got to train for our match tonight.” Bobby nodded and they continued down the hall.
Bobby’s friendship with Angelica would prove to be one of the best he’d ever had. She stuck by him when things with Arn weren’t going so smoothly…….
Coming up next: Chapter 2: New Friends, New Enemies, in which Angel meets a bunch more people, most of whom you’ll never see again. Bonus: an African-American character with “street smarts” … I’m so, so, sorry, world.
Notes:
1) Y’all, Marcus Alexander Bagwell was totally a hottie back in the day.
2) Ok, Bobby Eaton. I think I can explain this one. I didn’t think he was hot, and he wasn’t a particularly exciting wrestler to watch. I was just fixated on him for a while because I read an interview in a wrestling magazine where he was described as “a man of few words.” He was indeed particularly taciturn in the interview. And that to me seemed endlessly fascinating for whatever reason. Interesting side note: I totally dated a couple guys just because I thought that because they were quiet, they were interesting. In actuality, they were either completely boring or completely crazy.
3) I know that was kind of dull. It gets better. I promise.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Bitter Words, Part II
Bitter Words, Part II
So I basically have two main tropes so far: allergies and crying. I have no idea why. At any rate, I present to you a thrilling sequel that features both!
Bitter Words, Part II:
3 days later
As Mr. Perfect sat in his room opening his mail he started to sneeze. He could hardly stop to take a breath. Fourtunately he sneezed very loudly and Anjel could hear him 2 doors down. She entered his room through his open door.
“My Gosh, I’ve never heard anyone sneeze so much! Are you OK?” she asked
He couldn’t say much. He just kept sneezing. She noticed a trace of perfume in the air and recognized it as her favorite, Tropical Mist. Wait a minute! It was coming from a note on the table. She picked it up and ran into the hall with it. She heard him stop sneezing and tore open the letter. A thought crossed her mind. She was reading someone else’s mail!
She dismissed the thought and read the letter.
“God Bless You” – Hatefully Yours, Nightshade [I drew a crescent moon next to her signature]
She entered Mr. P’s room.
“Are you allright?” she asked. He nodded and she washed her hands.
“It was from Nightshade, wasn’t it?” he asked. She sat down next to him.
“I’m sorry, Mr. P.” said Anjel sympathetically.
He drew in a deep breath and sighed. There was an akward moment of silence. Anjel studied his face for his feeling, but he didn’t show them.
“How’s Marty?” he asked her. “He’s out of the hospital, but he has been acting very, very strange even before the match. He’s never home, he never tells me where he’s going, and comes back exausted and sometimes angry. More than once I’ve noticed some bruises or cuts. When I ask him about it he goes nuts on me!” she told Mr. Perfect [gee, did I drop enough anvils there?] “I just don’t get it anymore” she said
Mr. P. sneezed again. He looked sadder than ever. Poor thing. He’ll never be able to sneeze without thinking of Nightshade. She touched his shoulder. “You can talk to me if you want. It’s probably better for you not to bottle up your feelings. It’s been almost a month. I know how I get when I can’t talk to someone.” she said.
“Well, I’m not you!” he snapped. “I’m sorry Anjel, you know my temper.”
“It’s allright.” she said.
“No, it’s not, I can’t let Nightshade do this to me. After all we meant to each other, she ended our relationship. But it was my fault, too. (He sighs) I never should have said some of those things. I wish I could take it all back. I wish I’d never signed that match. (pause) But wishing won’t get us together. Nothing will. We are through. I loved her, Anjel.” He brushed away his tears, but more came. He stood, ending the touch of Anjel’s comforting arm around his shoulder.
“Are you going to be O.K.?” she asked.
“Yes, Thank you, Anjel.” he said and kissed her cheek.
NOTES
1) Anjel’s head injury must’ve been nearly fatal considering all the hospitalization. My dad had a wicked concussion once from trying to ice skate down our driveway … he spent like 6 hours at the hospital.
2) Don’t worry. You didn’t see the last of that evil vixen, Nightshade. She’s not going to forget about our poor little Mary Sue.
COMING UP NEXT: Chapter 14: A Turn of Events, in which all those Marty anvils hit the floor in a completely ridiculous fashion.
So I basically have two main tropes so far: allergies and crying. I have no idea why. At any rate, I present to you a thrilling sequel that features both!
Bitter Words, Part II:
3 days later
As Mr. Perfect sat in his room opening his mail he started to sneeze. He could hardly stop to take a breath. Fourtunately he sneezed very loudly and Anjel could hear him 2 doors down. She entered his room through his open door.
“My Gosh, I’ve never heard anyone sneeze so much! Are you OK?” she asked
He couldn’t say much. He just kept sneezing. She noticed a trace of perfume in the air and recognized it as her favorite, Tropical Mist. Wait a minute! It was coming from a note on the table. She picked it up and ran into the hall with it. She heard him stop sneezing and tore open the letter. A thought crossed her mind. She was reading someone else’s mail!
She dismissed the thought and read the letter.
“God Bless You” – Hatefully Yours, Nightshade [I drew a crescent moon next to her signature]
She entered Mr. P’s room.
“Are you allright?” she asked. He nodded and she washed her hands.
“It was from Nightshade, wasn’t it?” he asked. She sat down next to him.
“I’m sorry, Mr. P.” said Anjel sympathetically.
He drew in a deep breath and sighed. There was an akward moment of silence. Anjel studied his face for his feeling, but he didn’t show them.
“How’s Marty?” he asked her. “He’s out of the hospital, but he has been acting very, very strange even before the match. He’s never home, he never tells me where he’s going, and comes back exausted and sometimes angry. More than once I’ve noticed some bruises or cuts. When I ask him about it he goes nuts on me!” she told Mr. Perfect [gee, did I drop enough anvils there?] “I just don’t get it anymore” she said
Mr. P. sneezed again. He looked sadder than ever. Poor thing. He’ll never be able to sneeze without thinking of Nightshade. She touched his shoulder. “You can talk to me if you want. It’s probably better for you not to bottle up your feelings. It’s been almost a month. I know how I get when I can’t talk to someone.” she said.
“Well, I’m not you!” he snapped. “I’m sorry Anjel, you know my temper.”
“It’s allright.” she said.
“No, it’s not, I can’t let Nightshade do this to me. After all we meant to each other, she ended our relationship. But it was my fault, too. (He sighs) I never should have said some of those things. I wish I could take it all back. I wish I’d never signed that match. (pause) But wishing won’t get us together. Nothing will. We are through. I loved her, Anjel.” He brushed away his tears, but more came. He stood, ending the touch of Anjel’s comforting arm around his shoulder.
“Are you going to be O.K.?” she asked.
“Yes, Thank you, Anjel.” he said and kissed her cheek.
NOTES
1) Anjel’s head injury must’ve been nearly fatal considering all the hospitalization. My dad had a wicked concussion once from trying to ice skate down our driveway … he spent like 6 hours at the hospital.
2) Don’t worry. You didn’t see the last of that evil vixen, Nightshade. She’s not going to forget about our poor little Mary Sue.
COMING UP NEXT: Chapter 14: A Turn of Events, in which all those Marty anvils hit the floor in a completely ridiculous fashion.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Chapter 14: "Bitter Words"
(new here? Howdy! Please read the introduction first!)
This is the first one to feature any actual in-ring action. Not very much in-ring action, but at least it doesn’t take place entirely within someone’s “dressing room.” Actually, this wasn’t that bad in terms of an actually plausible wrestling angle. In terms of a well-written piece of literature, of course, it fails miserably. Enjoy!
Chapter 14: Bitter Words [these chapter titles are seriously starting to sound like titles of Sweet Valley High books]
The phone rang in Anjel’s room.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Ms. Theodosia, this is President Jack Tunney.”
“Hello Mr. President. What can I do for you?”
“I need your OK on a match pitting Marty Jannetty against Ric Flair.”
“When is it to be held?”
“7:15 PM at the Chyenne Civic Center.”
“Yes sir. What date sir?” (what a ditz!) [actually, that was me covering for me there. I wrote this story in pen and decided it was easier to have him ask a follow-up question than self-edit. Sucks to be you, Tunney.]
“May 23”
“Yes sir. I believe we are free sir. Thank you, Mr. President.”
“Good, see you in Wisconsin. Goodbye”
CLICK!
What an idiot! Cheyanne is in Wyoming! Oh well [see above]
Anjel walked into the hall and was about to relay the news to Marty when a thought hit her. OH NO! Mr. Perfect manages Ric Flair! What am I going to do?
She went and told her protégé. [Marty is her protégé?] the info about the match. Marty noticed something odd about her – he could sense it but he didn’t bring it up [probably because that would require him to have lines]. She left his room and went into her own. She dialed Mr. P’s phone number. Busy. It must be Jack Tunney. 20 minutes later Mr. Perfect knocked on her door.
“Come in.” she said.
He entered, his face looking grim. He heard the news.
“Hi.” Anjel said.
“Funny Jack Tunney?”
“Yeah.”
“Anjel, I’m paid to be an aid for Ric Flair. I’m paid to win matches.”
“Me too.” she admitted.
“It means that I might have to resort to cheating, or hurting Marty. I’ve got to do anything to win.” he said.
“I understand.”
“But I promise you, I won’t do anything to hurt you.”
“Me neither.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Temporary enemies.” They shook hands, smiled, and Anjel left.
7:15, Cheyanne W.Y.
With Nightshade leading the way and Mr. Perfect and Ric Flair following behind.
Anjel gave Marty a last minute pep-talk and left the ring.
The match raged on using foreign objects often Ric Flair was eventually disqualified for being seen with a steel chair. Marty was nearly unconscious and Anjel was close to tears. She stepped into the ring and helped him onto a stretcher. She was about to go with him when a strong hand grasped her wrist. “Ow!” she whirled to see Ric Flair holding her.
“Whoo!” He screamed in her face. He slapped her. She slapped him back quickly. He raised his hand to punch her but Mr. P. held him back. He spoke softly to him. Mr. Perfect finally convinced his boss to stop.
Meanwhile Night shade had snuck up to Anjel and slipped on Brass knucks. She reared up behind her and WHAM! Right on the back of the head!
-ANJEL- [shifting perspectives again! Just like the pilot episode!]
He was going to hit me – but Mr. P. stopped him. How wonderful of him! I Want to … OW!”
-GORILLA- [as in Monsoon. One of the best commentators ever!]
I don’t believe it! This whole thing was set up by that rat Mr. Perfect. He distratcted Anjel by stopping Ric Flair so Nightshade could hit her. How Horrible.
----------------
Mr. Perfect didn’t notice what happened until he saw Anjel out cold on the mat. Then he saw N.S. blowing off her brass knuckled hand. Ric Flair left and N.S. followed. Mr. P knelt over her limp body.
-GORILLA-
Now what? He’s going to punch her with lead-filled gloves?
-------------------------------
Mr. Perfect touched the bump on the back of her head very lightly. She was bleeding. He removed his jacket and held it beneath her head. He lifted her up tenderly and placed her on the stretcher.
--------------------
-GORILLA-
… I don’t understand!
-------------------------------
Anjel was wheeled to Cheyanne Medical center – the hospital where Marty was being treated. Mr. Perfect walked back to Ric Flair’s room with a mixture of feelings. Concern for Anjel’s health, and anger because Nightshade would do something like that.
N.S. had watched the whole ordeal of Mr. Perfect -the man she loved- actually HELP that little blonde bimbo – what’s her name—Anjel! What the hell is he doing?
--10 min later—
Mr. Perfect enters room … N.S. flew into a rage “How could you! You little traitor!! You fink! What do you think you were doing out there?”
“Me! Me! You were the one who hit her on the back of the head with brass knucks!”
“So?”
“So? So?” he repeated.
“You’re upset.”
“How can you tell?” He asked sarcastically.
“You’re repeating yourself.”
“Repeating myself! Repeating myself! No way!” [rotflolllllll!1!1!!]
“What are you so mad about? That’s my job.” She told him.
“You’re not paid to Pearl Harbor people!”
“Well you do it sometimes.”
“That’s only when Ric Flair is in trouble. Anjel posed no threat to his career.”
“Oh, now I’m totally confused. Which side are you on? Why are you sticking up for that bimbo?” [Nightshade is totally my favorite character so far, btw]
“I am not sticking up for her, and don’t call her a bimbo!”
“Ha Ha Ha! Now I see it. You two timer! How could you! You’ve got a relationship with that dumb blonde!”
“Her name is Anjel, and she is one of the greatest friends I’ve ever had. Not that that would’ve made a difference.”
“Oh, and what does that mean?”
“It means that even if you knew we were friends you would’ve hit her anyway.”
“Maybe.” she said frostily “What’s so great about her, anyway. What’s she got that I don’t?” [dangerous question to ask about a Mary Sue, Shady.]
“She’s nice and kind and most of all she cares about my feelings. That’s more than I can ever say for you. The only person you can feel for is Night Shade. I don’t understand what I ever saw in you – Sunny Tyler.”
Noone spoke. They both looked at each other with anger in their eyes.
“I hate you, Curt Hennig.” she said and slammed the door behind her.
“Sheesh!” said The Mountie as N.S. flew by him, nearly ramming into him. He saw his friend on the bed. His face was in his hands.
“Hey, what’s the problem, buddy?”
“Long story.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“Sorry, Jaques.” He shook his head.
“It’s ok I understand” he said and patting him on the back and closed the door behind him softly.
--------------------
Every day Mr. Perfect came in to visit Anjel in the hospital. She needed 29 stitches for her head. She had a concussions and some bruises, but she was recovering beautifully. [can Anjel do anything in any way besides beautifully?]
-----------
1 ½ weeks later
Anjel was finally able to get out of her hospital bed and walk around. She was moved into her dressing room. Her head still ached terribly, though. Mr. Perfect was still depressed, Nightshade’s words hurt him so deeply not even Anjel could help him. Anjel felt terrible about Mr. Perfect. His heart had been broken because he had helped her. She had spent so many hours trying to comfort him and make him feel better, but it just wasn’t helping.
Nightshade quit her job as the Executive Consultette to go back to being a sales representive. She remembered the way Mr. Perfect hurt her and planned her revenge (little did she know that the last 3 words she spoke to Mr. P. was the best revenge in the world). She quickly wrote something on a piece of paper and sprayed it with something. Mr. Perfect had made the mistake of telling her something long ago.
--------------------------------------
Notes:
1) I loved The Mountie. I think he might have been in a lost story somewhere, but I can’t remember. Personally, I’m glad I can’t remember … I’d rather not tarnish his character. Anyone remember when he sung his own theme song? “I’m the Mountie! I’m handsome, I’m brave, and I’m strong! I’m the Mountie! And I enforce the law! You can try to run, but you can never hide! The Mountieeeee always gets his man!” Good stuff!!
2) Aw, I miss Gorilla Monsoon. And Mr. Perfect. RIP, fellas.
COMING UP NEXT: Bitter Words, Part II, in which we see the devastating repercussions of crossing Nightshade. What’s that you say? You want more debilitating allergy stories? Coming right up!
----------------------------------------------
This is the first one to feature any actual in-ring action. Not very much in-ring action, but at least it doesn’t take place entirely within someone’s “dressing room.” Actually, this wasn’t that bad in terms of an actually plausible wrestling angle. In terms of a well-written piece of literature, of course, it fails miserably. Enjoy!
Chapter 14: Bitter Words [these chapter titles are seriously starting to sound like titles of Sweet Valley High books]
The phone rang in Anjel’s room.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Ms. Theodosia, this is President Jack Tunney.”
“Hello Mr. President. What can I do for you?”
“I need your OK on a match pitting Marty Jannetty against Ric Flair.”
“When is it to be held?”
“7:15 PM at the Chyenne Civic Center.”
“Yes sir. What date sir?” (what a ditz!) [actually, that was me covering for me there. I wrote this story in pen and decided it was easier to have him ask a follow-up question than self-edit. Sucks to be you, Tunney.]
“May 23”
“Yes sir. I believe we are free sir. Thank you, Mr. President.”
“Good, see you in Wisconsin. Goodbye”
CLICK!
What an idiot! Cheyanne is in Wyoming! Oh well [see above]
Anjel walked into the hall and was about to relay the news to Marty when a thought hit her. OH NO! Mr. Perfect manages Ric Flair! What am I going to do?
She went and told her protégé. [Marty is her protégé?] the info about the match. Marty noticed something odd about her – he could sense it but he didn’t bring it up [probably because that would require him to have lines]. She left his room and went into her own. She dialed Mr. P’s phone number. Busy. It must be Jack Tunney. 20 minutes later Mr. Perfect knocked on her door.
“Come in.” she said.
He entered, his face looking grim. He heard the news.
“Hi.” Anjel said.
“Funny Jack Tunney?”
“Yeah.”
“Anjel, I’m paid to be an aid for Ric Flair. I’m paid to win matches.”
“Me too.” she admitted.
“It means that I might have to resort to cheating, or hurting Marty. I’ve got to do anything to win.” he said.
“I understand.”
“But I promise you, I won’t do anything to hurt you.”
“Me neither.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Temporary enemies.” They shook hands, smiled, and Anjel left.
7:15, Cheyanne W.Y.
With Nightshade leading the way and Mr. Perfect and Ric Flair following behind.
Anjel gave Marty a last minute pep-talk and left the ring.
The match raged on using foreign objects often Ric Flair was eventually disqualified for being seen with a steel chair. Marty was nearly unconscious and Anjel was close to tears. She stepped into the ring and helped him onto a stretcher. She was about to go with him when a strong hand grasped her wrist. “Ow!” she whirled to see Ric Flair holding her.
“Whoo!” He screamed in her face. He slapped her. She slapped him back quickly. He raised his hand to punch her but Mr. P. held him back. He spoke softly to him. Mr. Perfect finally convinced his boss to stop.
Meanwhile Night shade had snuck up to Anjel and slipped on Brass knucks. She reared up behind her and WHAM! Right on the back of the head!
-ANJEL- [shifting perspectives again! Just like the pilot episode!]
He was going to hit me – but Mr. P. stopped him. How wonderful of him! I Want to … OW!”
-GORILLA- [as in Monsoon. One of the best commentators ever!]
I don’t believe it! This whole thing was set up by that rat Mr. Perfect. He distratcted Anjel by stopping Ric Flair so Nightshade could hit her. How Horrible.
----------------
Mr. Perfect didn’t notice what happened until he saw Anjel out cold on the mat. Then he saw N.S. blowing off her brass knuckled hand. Ric Flair left and N.S. followed. Mr. P knelt over her limp body.
-GORILLA-
Now what? He’s going to punch her with lead-filled gloves?
-------------------------------
Mr. Perfect touched the bump on the back of her head very lightly. She was bleeding. He removed his jacket and held it beneath her head. He lifted her up tenderly and placed her on the stretcher.
--------------------
-GORILLA-
… I don’t understand!
-------------------------------
Anjel was wheeled to Cheyanne Medical center – the hospital where Marty was being treated. Mr. Perfect walked back to Ric Flair’s room with a mixture of feelings. Concern for Anjel’s health, and anger because Nightshade would do something like that.
N.S. had watched the whole ordeal of Mr. Perfect -the man she loved- actually HELP that little blonde bimbo – what’s her name—Anjel! What the hell is he doing?
--10 min later—
Mr. Perfect enters room … N.S. flew into a rage “How could you! You little traitor!! You fink! What do you think you were doing out there?”
“Me! Me! You were the one who hit her on the back of the head with brass knucks!”
“So?”
“So? So?” he repeated.
“You’re upset.”
“How can you tell?” He asked sarcastically.
“You’re repeating yourself.”
“Repeating myself! Repeating myself! No way!” [rotflolllllll!1!1!!]
“What are you so mad about? That’s my job.” She told him.
“You’re not paid to Pearl Harbor people!”
“Well you do it sometimes.”
“That’s only when Ric Flair is in trouble. Anjel posed no threat to his career.”
“Oh, now I’m totally confused. Which side are you on? Why are you sticking up for that bimbo?” [Nightshade is totally my favorite character so far, btw]
“I am not sticking up for her, and don’t call her a bimbo!”
“Ha Ha Ha! Now I see it. You two timer! How could you! You’ve got a relationship with that dumb blonde!”
“Her name is Anjel, and she is one of the greatest friends I’ve ever had. Not that that would’ve made a difference.”
“Oh, and what does that mean?”
“It means that even if you knew we were friends you would’ve hit her anyway.”
“Maybe.” she said frostily “What’s so great about her, anyway. What’s she got that I don’t?” [dangerous question to ask about a Mary Sue, Shady.]
“She’s nice and kind and most of all she cares about my feelings. That’s more than I can ever say for you. The only person you can feel for is Night Shade. I don’t understand what I ever saw in you – Sunny Tyler.”
Noone spoke. They both looked at each other with anger in their eyes.
“I hate you, Curt Hennig.” she said and slammed the door behind her.
“Sheesh!” said The Mountie as N.S. flew by him, nearly ramming into him. He saw his friend on the bed. His face was in his hands.
“Hey, what’s the problem, buddy?”
“Long story.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“Sorry, Jaques.” He shook his head.
“It’s ok I understand” he said and patting him on the back and closed the door behind him softly.
--------------------
Every day Mr. Perfect came in to visit Anjel in the hospital. She needed 29 stitches for her head. She had a concussions and some bruises, but she was recovering beautifully. [can Anjel do anything in any way besides beautifully?]
-----------
1 ½ weeks later
Anjel was finally able to get out of her hospital bed and walk around. She was moved into her dressing room. Her head still ached terribly, though. Mr. Perfect was still depressed, Nightshade’s words hurt him so deeply not even Anjel could help him. Anjel felt terrible about Mr. Perfect. His heart had been broken because he had helped her. She had spent so many hours trying to comfort him and make him feel better, but it just wasn’t helping.
Nightshade quit her job as the Executive Consultette to go back to being a sales representive. She remembered the way Mr. Perfect hurt her and planned her revenge (little did she know that the last 3 words she spoke to Mr. P. was the best revenge in the world). She quickly wrote something on a piece of paper and sprayed it with something. Mr. Perfect had made the mistake of telling her something long ago.
--------------------------------------
Notes:
1) I loved The Mountie. I think he might have been in a lost story somewhere, but I can’t remember. Personally, I’m glad I can’t remember … I’d rather not tarnish his character. Anyone remember when he sung his own theme song? “I’m the Mountie! I’m handsome, I’m brave, and I’m strong! I’m the Mountie! And I enforce the law! You can try to run, but you can never hide! The Mountieeeee always gets his man!” Good stuff!!
2) Aw, I miss Gorilla Monsoon. And Mr. Perfect. RIP, fellas.
COMING UP NEXT: Bitter Words, Part II, in which we see the devastating repercussions of crossing Nightshade. What’s that you say? You want more debilitating allergy stories? Coming right up!
----------------------------------------------
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Chapter 13: A Perfect Point of View
(just tuning in? Hello! Please read the introduction first!)
This story marked my first foray into first-person narrative. It also marked my last.
Times I cringed retyping this: 6. Enjoy!
Chapter 13: A Perfect Point of View
“Mr. Perfect, I would like you to meet our lovely new executive consultette, Nightshade.” said Ric Flair to me, Mr. Perfect. In stepped a woman with black, shiny hair that hung down a little above her waist. She had deep, intriging green eyes that caut your attention immediatly. Nightshade … isn’t that a poisonous fungus. If this woman is a poisonous fungus I’ll quit my job and become a monk.
Sunny Marie Tyler meet Curt Hennig.” said Ric
The beautiful stranger cringed at her name.
“Please don’t call me that. Look at me. Do I look Sunny?”
She was wearing a slightly off the shoulder dress with a long skirt. [a dress and a skirt?] it was black and did not fit her first name at all.
“Can’t say that you do, dear Can’t say that you do, look, why don’t you two kids get to know each other I am going to find Bobby.” halfway out the door Ric Flair stopped. “Almost forgot, Nightshade—gimmie a ‘Whoooo!” he said
“Whooo!” replied the consultette in her sultry, silky voice.
Ric Flair praised her “Whoo” and left us alone I smiled at her and she smiled back. Her smile melted my entire inside.
<><><> [I drew weird shapes to signify a perspective shift]
Oh god, he’s smiling at me. I think he likes me – Smile back-good-hey, what’s wrong with him liking me? He’s nice looking. Not as gorgeous as that guy I had last week …. but not bad [look out, Mr. P. she’s no good!]
<><><>
“You can call me N.S. if you’d like.” she told me [yes, that flows off the tongue much nicer]
“Okay.” I said “You can call me Mr. P. If you want.”
“So, Mr. P. where are you from?”
“Minneapolis, Minnesota. And you?”
“New York, New York.”
“Ah, the big apple.” I said searching for something good to say.
“Yeah, I grew up on the sounds of gunshots in the night.”
“Wasn’t that a Frank Sinatra song?”
She laughed. Her laugh was just about the sweetest thing in the world
<><><>
Hey, he’s pretty funny. I could get along with this guy O.K.
<><><>
“Oh, Do you like the Big Band era, I love Bobby Darin!” she told/asked me. “I’m an oldies fan” [what a coincidence, so was I. I obsessively collected Frankie Valli songs. But that’s a whole ‘nother blog]
“Um, not really, I’m an Elton John man myself.” [how is that not oldies?] Why didn’t I lie?
“So, why don’t you show me around?” she asked me
I gave her the grand tour. Passing by Anjel’s old room kind of made a lump in my throat but I pushed it down and moved on [ooh, so close to more egregious crying!]
“And we complete the tour at your room.” which was across the hall from mine –yes!
I handed her the keys and her extra set, which she gave to ME!!!
“Hey, who else do I know?” she explained
<><><>
Oh, what the heck, if you want to know what kind of a guy he was I should go ahead and do it. – Shoop Shoop!
<><><>
Right then she kissed me. WOW! Not just a little baby kiss either, right on the lips. WOW! I hope I returned it effectively.
<><><>
Ooh! Hose me down! Not bad at all! Pretty good actually. OK, OK, Fantastic.
<><><>
She is hot stuff!
Later in the evening, while I was in the dressing room I share with Bobby, I thought about what happened today, and realized that I could not wait for tomorrow.
TO BE CONTINUED …
Notes:
1) Again with the misconception of dressing rooms. It’s like I thought they all lived and worked in one big building instead of traveling around the country and staying in hotel rooms.
2) I wasn’t sure of Mr. Perfect’s exact age, but I do remember thinking that he was about 30. So … I wasn’t trying to pretend he was 14 or anything; I just assumed that this was the way 30-year old men thought. That being said, being close to 30 myself, I wouldn’t mind if I kissed a guy and had him react by thinking “WOW!” in all caps. I would, however, be alarmed if he was amazed that it was on the lips.
3) Re: the oldies. I think I’ve described my obsession with wrestling effectively. I was obsessed to a similar degree with Frankie Valli and the 4 Seasons. I had a ridiculously large collection of their albums. I think I had songs they didn’t even remember recording. Not only did I collect them, I made alphabetical, color-coded lists of their songs. And this was before I had a computer, so any time I got a new song, I would have to redo the list. I then made alphabetic mix tapes and listened to them over and over. But I digress. So because I only listened to oldies, I had no clue what was happening in the world of modern music. Thus, all of my characters only listen to oldies. The “Shoop Shoop” line is a reference to “It’s in His Kiss (The Shoop Shoop Song)” by Betty Everett (later recorded by Cher), to which the lyrics are: “If you wanna know if he loves you so, it’s in his kiss.” Good golly. Just … good golly.
Coming up next: The continuation of “A Perfect Point of View,” in which Nightshade begins to show her true colors. That hussy.
This story marked my first foray into first-person narrative. It also marked my last.
Times I cringed retyping this: 6. Enjoy!
Chapter 13: A Perfect Point of View
“Mr. Perfect, I would like you to meet our lovely new executive consultette, Nightshade.” said Ric Flair to me, Mr. Perfect. In stepped a woman with black, shiny hair that hung down a little above her waist. She had deep, intriging green eyes that caut your attention immediatly. Nightshade … isn’t that a poisonous fungus. If this woman is a poisonous fungus I’ll quit my job and become a monk.
Sunny Marie Tyler meet Curt Hennig.” said Ric
The beautiful stranger cringed at her name.
“Please don’t call me that. Look at me. Do I look Sunny?”
She was wearing a slightly off the shoulder dress with a long skirt. [a dress and a skirt?] it was black and did not fit her first name at all.
“Can’t say that you do, dear Can’t say that you do, look, why don’t you two kids get to know each other I am going to find Bobby.” halfway out the door Ric Flair stopped. “Almost forgot, Nightshade—gimmie a ‘Whoooo!” he said
“Whooo!” replied the consultette in her sultry, silky voice.
Ric Flair praised her “Whoo” and left us alone I smiled at her and she smiled back. Her smile melted my entire inside.
<><><> [I drew weird shapes to signify a perspective shift]
Oh god, he’s smiling at me. I think he likes me – Smile back-good-hey, what’s wrong with him liking me? He’s nice looking. Not as gorgeous as that guy I had last week …. but not bad [look out, Mr. P. she’s no good!]
<><><>
“You can call me N.S. if you’d like.” she told me [yes, that flows off the tongue much nicer]
“Okay.” I said “You can call me Mr. P. If you want.”
“So, Mr. P. where are you from?”
“Minneapolis, Minnesota. And you?”
“New York, New York.”
“Ah, the big apple.” I said searching for something good to say.
“Yeah, I grew up on the sounds of gunshots in the night.”
“Wasn’t that a Frank Sinatra song?”
She laughed. Her laugh was just about the sweetest thing in the world
<><><>
Hey, he’s pretty funny. I could get along with this guy O.K.
<><><>
“Oh, Do you like the Big Band era, I love Bobby Darin!” she told/asked me. “I’m an oldies fan” [what a coincidence, so was I. I obsessively collected Frankie Valli songs. But that’s a whole ‘nother blog]
“Um, not really, I’m an Elton John man myself.” [how is that not oldies?] Why didn’t I lie?
“So, why don’t you show me around?” she asked me
I gave her the grand tour. Passing by Anjel’s old room kind of made a lump in my throat but I pushed it down and moved on [ooh, so close to more egregious crying!]
“And we complete the tour at your room.” which was across the hall from mine –yes!
I handed her the keys and her extra set, which she gave to ME!!!
“Hey, who else do I know?” she explained
<><><>
Oh, what the heck, if you want to know what kind of a guy he was I should go ahead and do it. – Shoop Shoop!
<><><>
Right then she kissed me. WOW! Not just a little baby kiss either, right on the lips. WOW! I hope I returned it effectively.
<><><>
Ooh! Hose me down! Not bad at all! Pretty good actually. OK, OK, Fantastic.
<><><>
She is hot stuff!
Later in the evening, while I was in the dressing room I share with Bobby, I thought about what happened today, and realized that I could not wait for tomorrow.
TO BE CONTINUED …
Notes:
1) Again with the misconception of dressing rooms. It’s like I thought they all lived and worked in one big building instead of traveling around the country and staying in hotel rooms.
2) I wasn’t sure of Mr. Perfect’s exact age, but I do remember thinking that he was about 30. So … I wasn’t trying to pretend he was 14 or anything; I just assumed that this was the way 30-year old men thought. That being said, being close to 30 myself, I wouldn’t mind if I kissed a guy and had him react by thinking “WOW!” in all caps. I would, however, be alarmed if he was amazed that it was on the lips.
3) Re: the oldies. I think I’ve described my obsession with wrestling effectively. I was obsessed to a similar degree with Frankie Valli and the 4 Seasons. I had a ridiculously large collection of their albums. I think I had songs they didn’t even remember recording. Not only did I collect them, I made alphabetical, color-coded lists of their songs. And this was before I had a computer, so any time I got a new song, I would have to redo the list. I then made alphabetic mix tapes and listened to them over and over. But I digress. So because I only listened to oldies, I had no clue what was happening in the world of modern music. Thus, all of my characters only listen to oldies. The “Shoop Shoop” line is a reference to “It’s in His Kiss (The Shoop Shoop Song)” by Betty Everett (later recorded by Cher), to which the lyrics are: “If you wanna know if he loves you so, it’s in his kiss.” Good golly. Just … good golly.
Coming up next: The continuation of “A Perfect Point of View,” in which Nightshade begins to show her true colors. That hussy.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Chapter 9: Reunited
So this is the one that inspired me to share. It's bad. It's got terrible dialogue, of course, but it's also got some awesome pacing. I had characters make and act on rash decisions -- such as travelling across the country to find a friend's long-lost girlfriend -- in a matter of seconds. Trying to find a bathroom, however, took a considerably longer time.
Enjoy!
Chapter 9: Reunited
A lonely and depressed Brutus Beefcake sat in his dressing room staring at an old photograph. A knock came from his door.
“Come in” he said.
“25 minutes til the Barber Shop, Brutus” said Anjel.
“Thanks” he said in an empty and sad voice. [gee, he seems a bit down]
Angel closed the door.
“What’s wrong Brutus?” she asked softly.
“I found this old picture of my girlfriend Laurie Traynor” Brutus said handing the photo to Anjel. Laurie was pretty. She had short brown hair and big blue eyes.
“What happened to her?” asked Anjel.
“We had just finished high school. We were both aspiring hair stylists. We really loved each other and I was going to ask her to marry me. Vince McMahon came one day and asked me if I wanted to consider professional wrestling. Laurie knew how much this meant to me and told me to go for it. I asked her to come with me, but her life was in San Francisco she couldn’t leave, but she said to live out my dream. I still remember the day I left, we were both crying when I boarded the train …” he broke off and tears filled his eyes.
Anjel hugged him for a long time. Brutus really needed that. He wiped his eyes.
“Thanks, Anjel.” He said, “Can I have a few minutes to think?” he asked
“Sure,” said Anjel and closed the door softly behind her.
Poor Brutus! His story had almost made Anjel cry. She went ino to check on Marty who had the flue and a 102 degree temperature [sick again?!?]. She told him Brutus’s story and he agreed that something had to be done
Marty assured Anjel that he would be fine on his own so Anjel booked a flight to San Francisco. When she looked in the phone book and found-
Laurel Traynor
76 Viking Ave
Anjel hopped a cab and rang the doorbell of 76 Viking Ave. A young woman with shoulder length brown hair and blue eyes opened the door [see? Time passed. Her hair grew.]
“Are you Laurie Traynor?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know a man named Brutus Beefcake?”
“Oh, my God. Brutus. Please Come in.”
Anjel told Laurie the entire story from who she was to the talk she had with Brutus.
They booked a flight to Washington, where Wrestling Challenge was.
“Do you think he’ll recognize me?” asked Laurie.
“I’m positive” said Anjel and knocked on Brutus’ door.
“Come in”
“Brutus I’ve got someone who might cheer you up.” said Anjel and motioned for Laurie to go in. She closed the door behind Laurie.
“Laurie.”
“Brutus.”
“They moved a stop toward each other and embraced. Oh how good it felt to hold Laurie again!
--
Chapter 2 [a chapter within a chapter? Sure, why not?]
“Laurie … how did you … Where …” Brutus started.
“Just hold me, Brutus,” she said.
He did just that.
“I really missed you.” Laurie said.
“So did I.”
“When that lady came to my door …”
“Whoa. What lady?” Asked Brutus.
“She was a blonde … her name was Angelica … no … Angela? I don’t remember. I was so occupied with the though to seeing you again.” answered Laurie. [guess they didn’t talk much on the plane.]
“Anjel?” asked Brutus.
“Yes. Who is she … oh no! Not your wife?” asked Laurie.
“No. No. Just a very wonderful friend.” said Brutus
“That was a pretty long trip. Is there a bathroom nearby?” asked Laurie.
“straight down the hall” said Brutus.
“Thanks” said Laurie and left
Brutus sat down to think. “Anjel … what she did for me. She is so ….. I …. How can I thank her?”
Brutus had never had someone care about him so much. To think of what Anjel did is amazing. She has got a good heart. What a great friend. [hurl]
He walked 2 doors down to Marty’s dressing room since no one answered the knock at Anjel’s. Anjel answered Brutus knock.
“Shh Marty’s finally asleep.” [thus eliminating any further participation in the story] she whispered
“Anjel … you … I … Thank You.” said Brutus and hugged her.
“Anything for a friend.” whispered Anjel. She wiped a tear of joy welling up in her eye away.
Notes:
1) I obviously didn’t have a clue as to the actual function of a dressing room. Marty has the flu, but he’s in his dressing room? Brutus has a photo of an ex-girlfriend in his dressing room? I guess I just figured they were like apartments, and each wrestler had his/her own.
2) Anjel is seriously intrusive. Back off, lady.
3) I had a serious problem with dialogue tags. And adverbs. And ellipses. And vital discussions of where the bathroom is.
This story isn’t over. There’s a sequel coming up soon. There will be lots more egregious crying and ridiculous dialogue. And a pretty awesome break-up scene.
But first … Chapter 10: “Two Faces” – Wherein we meet Mr. Perfect, who also has a serious allergy. WTF was wrong with me?
Enjoy!
Chapter 9: Reunited
A lonely and depressed Brutus Beefcake sat in his dressing room staring at an old photograph. A knock came from his door.
“Come in” he said.
“25 minutes til the Barber Shop, Brutus” said Anjel.
“Thanks” he said in an empty and sad voice. [gee, he seems a bit down]
Angel closed the door.
“What’s wrong Brutus?” she asked softly.
“I found this old picture of my girlfriend Laurie Traynor” Brutus said handing the photo to Anjel. Laurie was pretty. She had short brown hair and big blue eyes.
“What happened to her?” asked Anjel.
“We had just finished high school. We were both aspiring hair stylists. We really loved each other and I was going to ask her to marry me. Vince McMahon came one day and asked me if I wanted to consider professional wrestling. Laurie knew how much this meant to me and told me to go for it. I asked her to come with me, but her life was in San Francisco she couldn’t leave, but she said to live out my dream. I still remember the day I left, we were both crying when I boarded the train …” he broke off and tears filled his eyes.
Anjel hugged him for a long time. Brutus really needed that. He wiped his eyes.
“Thanks, Anjel.” He said, “Can I have a few minutes to think?” he asked
“Sure,” said Anjel and closed the door softly behind her.
Poor Brutus! His story had almost made Anjel cry. She went ino to check on Marty who had the flue and a 102 degree temperature [sick again?!?]. She told him Brutus’s story and he agreed that something had to be done
Marty assured Anjel that he would be fine on his own so Anjel booked a flight to San Francisco. When she looked in the phone book and found-
Laurel Traynor
76 Viking Ave
Anjel hopped a cab and rang the doorbell of 76 Viking Ave. A young woman with shoulder length brown hair and blue eyes opened the door [see? Time passed. Her hair grew.]
“Are you Laurie Traynor?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know a man named Brutus Beefcake?”
“Oh, my God. Brutus. Please Come in.”
Anjel told Laurie the entire story from who she was to the talk she had with Brutus.
They booked a flight to Washington, where Wrestling Challenge was.
“Do you think he’ll recognize me?” asked Laurie.
“I’m positive” said Anjel and knocked on Brutus’ door.
“Come in”
“Brutus I’ve got someone who might cheer you up.” said Anjel and motioned for Laurie to go in. She closed the door behind Laurie.
“Laurie.”
“Brutus.”
“They moved a stop toward each other and embraced. Oh how good it felt to hold Laurie again!
--
Chapter 2 [a chapter within a chapter? Sure, why not?]
“Laurie … how did you … Where …” Brutus started.
“Just hold me, Brutus,” she said.
He did just that.
“I really missed you.” Laurie said.
“So did I.”
“When that lady came to my door …”
“Whoa. What lady?” Asked Brutus.
“She was a blonde … her name was Angelica … no … Angela? I don’t remember. I was so occupied with the though to seeing you again.” answered Laurie. [guess they didn’t talk much on the plane.]
“Anjel?” asked Brutus.
“Yes. Who is she … oh no! Not your wife?” asked Laurie.
“No. No. Just a very wonderful friend.” said Brutus
“That was a pretty long trip. Is there a bathroom nearby?” asked Laurie.
“straight down the hall” said Brutus.
“Thanks” said Laurie and left
Brutus sat down to think. “Anjel … what she did for me. She is so ….. I …. How can I thank her?”
Brutus had never had someone care about him so much. To think of what Anjel did is amazing. She has got a good heart. What a great friend. [hurl]
He walked 2 doors down to Marty’s dressing room since no one answered the knock at Anjel’s. Anjel answered Brutus knock.
“Shh Marty’s finally asleep.” [thus eliminating any further participation in the story] she whispered
“Anjel … you … I … Thank You.” said Brutus and hugged her.
“Anything for a friend.” whispered Anjel. She wiped a tear of joy welling up in her eye away.
Notes:
1) I obviously didn’t have a clue as to the actual function of a dressing room. Marty has the flu, but he’s in his dressing room? Brutus has a photo of an ex-girlfriend in his dressing room? I guess I just figured they were like apartments, and each wrestler had his/her own.
2) Anjel is seriously intrusive. Back off, lady.
3) I had a serious problem with dialogue tags. And adverbs. And ellipses. And vital discussions of where the bathroom is.
This story isn’t over. There’s a sequel coming up soon. There will be lots more egregious crying and ridiculous dialogue. And a pretty awesome break-up scene.
But first … Chapter 10: “Two Faces” – Wherein we meet Mr. Perfect, who also has a serious allergy. WTF was wrong with me?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)