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Ryan Watson vs. Stacy Kissinger
Topic Started: Jun 24 2013, 05:51 PM (106 Views)
Mr. D
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The SCW Owner and Leader of the Nation of Moderation
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Ryan Watson vs. Stacy Kissinger

3 RP limit
Deadline: Noon EST July 4, 2013
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Ryan Watson
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ooc: Here's my offering. Asked Jay if he'd mind going 1on1 because it's ppv week in GDW. He's obliged, which I'm grateful for. Thanks dude. This rp is build around the first Kennedy Street rp for the tag match against DF, but you shouldn't need to go back and read that first as this should stand up on it's own anyway. Good luck Jay, always fun mate! Enjoy.

Watson vs. Stacy Kissinger
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Stacy Kissinger
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Craig's Texas Rose
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ALBUM: Is This The Year?
TRACK 13: Psychiatric Help

DATE: Tuesday, July 2, 2013
CITY: Morgantown, West Virginia
LOCATION: University of West Virginia Campus Quad


A lot has changed as of late. I feel…I feel like I’m no longer in control of my life. Yes the win over Gable Winchester felt right. He got exactly what he deserved. He turned his back on me two years ago and then he did it again over a week ago in our match. Only this time, he paid for it, dearly.

However, even after that victory, if ya’ll happened to notice, I wasn’t smiling. I wasn’t singing. Instead of feeling revived, well, I still felt weak. Yes, paradox, I know, being I had just won a wrestling match against a pig that had put his true feelings for me out to pasture, in place of other girls and his hopes and dreams to be a champion. I didn’t feel strong when I pinned him. And I still don’t. I feel like at any moment I could jump off any structure that I can happen to find. And the “help” that Supreme Championship Wrestling has sent me to after I was dragged aside by none other than Mr. D. in a discrete meeting a few days ago? Well, I don’t know if I’m a case they’re going to be able to cure.

I know I seem to usually be this happy-go-lucky gal from Dallas, Texas. However I’m so much more than that. I have more substance than a lot of you out there think. I’m a human being you know. I have feelings, and over the past few years, those feelings, MY feelings…the good ones, have been shattered. Gable was only just the beginning. It was at that time that both of us were champions. Both of us were firing on all cylinders…and then he threw it all away.

He however isn’t the only one of you out there that’s guilty. Many of you have passed judgment on me wrongfully when I have done nothing wrong to you. You’ve seen me as the Texan that ya’ll could make fun of. Well, what would happen if I wasn’t around for ya’ll to make fun of? What if I do decide to take the plunge and sacrifice myself? Because I still feel like I am that damn close to completing the task!

Which is why I’m certain that the psychiatrist’s assistant that has been assigned to me is happy that I’m on solid ground for the time being, walking on the grounds of this college campus. I can see her leaning up against a wall of the school, keeping a very close eye on me, to make sure I do nothing rash. Like that will do any good though. Not with the way that I feel. And it’s these feelings that are making me just stomp my feet against the ground as I trod along with authority, over to where this assistant, whose name is Dana, waits for me.


Dana: “Well, I trust that you didn’t enjoy your stroll on the lawn just now.”

Stacy: “How COULD I enjoy it with ya basically breathin’ down the back of muh neck the entire time?!”

Dana: “Okay, okay, calm down. Here, we’ll go to the campus restaurant and get you a cup of water so you can take your meds. It’s just about that time anyways.”

Stacy: “NO! I refuse! Last time I took one of them suckahs yesterday I was out like a damn light in no time. I woke up not even recognizin’ where I was. Nevah again Dana. Ya may as well just get rid of them damn pills.”

Dana: “That would be against psychiatrist’s orders, Miss Kissinger. I’ve been assigned to you to make sure that you are as normal as normal can be.

That word irritates me. Normal. Normal? How the damn heck can I ever be “normal” again after all that I’ve been through?!?! She doesn’t understand. The psychiatrist himself didn’t understand. None of my peers in SCW understand. And to be honest, a piece of me is starting to tell me that the fans, as loyal as they might be to me, just might not understand either.

I’m tempted to continue raising my voice to Dana, but I take a few steps back away from her. She would probably just ignore my feelings and words anyways.


Dana: “Alright Miss Kissinger, come on. I have the pills right here. Follow me and come inside.”

When she turns her head away from me, I roll my eyes. However I follow her into the campus’s activity center and into the restaurant. When she hands me my pills and a Styrofoam cup with water, I think about not taking them, but eventually I sigh, tip my head back, and allow myself to become medicated once again…

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DATE: Thursday, June 27, 2013
CITY: Orlando, Florida
LOCATION: Amway Center


Though it’s only a house show and I’m not scheduled to compete this evening, I have showed up at the request of Mr. D., even though ya’ll know my history with him and against him. He’s not anywhere close to a fan of mine, yet a summons is a summons. That said, I’m dressed to the nines in a very nice looking summery sky blue halter dress and wearing a pair of those loud clacking heels. That’s all you can hear as I walk in one of the corridors of the Amway Center, looking for where Mr. D. is setting up shop for the evening while here for the SCW house show. Finally I come to the door and rap on it with my left knuckles. He doesn’t come to the door right away, so I get annoying with it, doing it repeatedly until finally I see the knob turn. I stop knocking on the door in this annoying way and it is him that answers it. He steps aside and I walk right into the room that has been set up to be an office for the night. It actually looks kind of cozy and welcoming. With that thought in my mind I walk deeper into the room and then see his desk. Not even thinking about it, I go sit down in the comfortable chair, which is clearly his. I then look up at him and he scowls over at me.

Stacy: “So, the reason that ya wanted me here Mistah D., sir?”

Mr. D: “First, get out of my chair. Only I sit there.”

He waits for me to obey like a good little puppy dog, but it doesn’t happen. It’s like I’ve said, I’m not afraid to take any punishment. I show him this by crossing my legs and making myself more comfortable. I even talk back to him, despite him being my boss. Besides, what’s he gonna do? Take more away from me and fire me? If he does that, good luck keeping the fans filling the seats. Why with all the people defecting away from the fans these days, he’ll have quite a few empty arenas if he does that.

Stacy: “Mmm, nah. Chair’s really comfortable. I’ll be outta here once ya tell me why ya called me here fer tonight.”

Mr. D: “Fine. I’ll be blunt Stacy. The SCW Board of Directors found out about your suicide attempt, and even though you didn’t jump while you were staying in Tampa, they have ordered me to send you for psychiatric help. Am I pleased about this at all? No. You need to take better care of yourself. You’re lucky that we’re sending you at our expense.”

That silences me and makes me stand up. I walk around the desk and right up close to him, glaring at him, angrily now. He steps away from me and trots over to the comfortable chair that I just vacated. Still I say no words. It’s almost as if a cat has my tongue.

Mr. D: “I see that you’re speechless Stacy. That is all I need you for though. Here, here is the psychiatrist office’s card. They’re stationed here in Orlando actually. Call them now and set up an appointment via the answering machine service. SCW does not want to be accountable for your actions. If you want to kill yourself, do it on their time, not on ours. You have a good rest of your evening.”

I stomp up to his desk and rip the card out of his hand. I then turn around and stomp out of the room, not even caring if he looks at my back side or not. I slam the door real hard and make my way out of not just the office, but out of the entire Amway Center. Once outside I feel an odd expression come over me. Something is just tempting me to get to the roof of the building and jump, this time without hesitation.

That thought is compressed though as I see some fans entering the Amway Center. A bit of a smile does come to my face as I walk in their direction. Perhaps this for now will be a good outlet for me to forget everything else. The only problem with that is I have no pocket to put this psychiatrist card. It’s a not so good reminder of all the events that have led up to me receiving this very card here tonight from my boss. So I stop walking in the direction of the fans, though I’ve already been spotted. A few do come up asking for autographs, and one teen boy even asks to get his picture taken with me. I do oblige their requests, despite obviously not feeling at my best. Once the bit of a crowd disperses I walk to my rental car. Once I’m safely tucked inside of it, I take out my iPhone and reluctantly leave the psychiatrist office a message, asking them to call me back in the morning at my cell phone number. I’m not looking forward to going, but with everything that’s gone on over the past few years, I can’t battle it. I know I need some help. I feel depressed. I feel anxious. I feel more and more suicidal with every passing day. If this place can’t make me feel better, well then, maybe I really am lost…


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DATE: Friday, June 28, 2013
CITY: Orlando, Florida
LOCATION: Psychiatrist’s Office


It was only just this morning that I called to make an appointment. Yet I already find myself in his office, at my consultation. My eyes are just wandering aimlessly throughout his office as I sit in a rather uncomfortable wooden chair, dressed again for the hot days of summer, this time in a rather short black skirt and a light purple tube top. I feel a lot of weight on my bare shoulders at this moment in time and no matter what I think of, the stress just doesn’t seem to be thinning…at all.

My thought process is then interrupted.


Dr. Whitman: “Well Stacy, based on everything you’ve told me, we’re going to have to keep you under a very close watch as you travel. From the two tests we ran you have a lot of stressors to deal with. It’s no wonder why you feel the way you do. I’m going to deploy one of my assistants, Dana, to work with you. She’s very good at what she does and she’ll keep you in her sights at all times of the day, which is something you need right now. I can tell that you need a companion.”

He’s right about that. Though I don’t want this Dana lady as my companion. I want Matthew. I want him SO BAD!

Dr. Whitman: “Before I have you meet her Stacy, let’s talk a bit more about how you feel about this Matthew Scoresby. From the amount of times that you’ve brought him up since in my office, it’s clear that he’s really important to you.”

I can’t help it but to shout it at the top of my lungs.

Stacy: “I LOVE HIM!!! And right now…he…he wants nothin’ to do with me. He dumped me, and fer no good reason. Same as that Gable asshole I told ya ‘bout!”

Dr. Whitman: “Hmm, yes. Dana would be the perfect companion for you right now. Perhaps you just need to step away from the male species as much as you can. Maybe you should just do things you enjoy Stacy and suppress as much of this emotion and anger as possible. Because that’s what’s leading to this anxiety that you have, and from what you’ve told me, it’s getting worse and worse. It’s to the point where you are in deep depression, but we will help you out of it as best we can.”

I simply nod, at least attempting to calm down.

Dr. Whitman: “So Stacy, name 3 things that you enjoy.”

Stacy: “Um, I do like to wrestle. I like interactin’ with the fans at events. And most of all, I love singin’.”

Dr. Whitman: “Well then, there you go. Maybe keeping yourself busy will help your psyche. I can’t say it will always work as it probably won’t, based on the experience that I have with other patients. However it’s worth a shot.

Stacy: “I guess.”

I feel myself shrug my shoulders and then stand up, thinking to myself that this is probably the end of the consultation. He does call me forward though and gives me a few papers before finally releasing me from his office. My head is spinning as I leave at this time. This girl that he’s prescribed, Dana, meets me out front. Feeling as odd as I do, I say nothing, but just walk with her out to my car parked in the lot. I’m sure she’ll get paid good money for following me around the country, for as long as she can tolerate me anyways…

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DATE: Thursday, July 4, 2013
CITY: Cincinnati, Ohio
LOCATION: Another Hotel Room


It’s still the middle of the night. I can tell that much as I’m currently peeping through the curtain to see that it’s still dark. Even though I know what day it is today, I’m not gonna feel like celebrating. To me, there’s nothing to celebrate. As much as I respect our country gaining independence from England and am proud to be an American, I just feel like I’d bring any big gathering down in the current state that I’m in. So yeah, I’ll be spending Independence Day in private. And it looks like that begins now as I just feel like I can’t get back to sleep. As I look over to the other bed in my room, I see that Dana is sound asleep in it. Since that’s come to fruition, I feel like doing what I’m about to do. I nod to myself before slowly sliding the door to the terrace open. Even though I’m only wearing a short sleeve white oversized night shirt and nothing else, I step out. Unfortunately the air isn’t fresh, it’s muggy. It’s sticky. It’s disgusting, just like the actions of Gable Winchester and so many others.

Once outside, I slide the door shut and then softly talk to myself, at the same time speaking as if the world is actually listening to me.


Stacy: “And so it’s true, a lot’s changed. And more prob’ly will. Though fer Gable Winchester, nothin’s changed. Heh, and he says I’m the one that’s stagnant. That just ain’t so. ‘Cause seriously, if ya looked up the word stagnant in a dictionary, at this point in time, a picture of him would be plastahed fer ya’lls right on that damn page.”

“But anyways, that’s his problem to rectify. I got plenty of muh own. I mean look at me, I can’t even be trusted by the SCW Board of Directahs no more. They basically put me on suicide watch just ‘cause I made it seem like I was gonna jump off a buildin’ down in Florida. It was temptin’ to do so, but in that ironic way it was Gable Winchester that saved muh life that day. It took facin’ that douchebag to make me wanna at least try to improve muh wrestlin’ career, despite the rest of muh life bein’ in uttah shambles.”


I step a few more steps before I lean my arms down on the ledge and look out over the primarily dead Queen City. I pick it up from where I left off, still staying as quiet as I can, as to not awake the companion that I don’t want here with me.

Stacy: “With the defeat of Gable Winchester though, I move on to face on one man that’s done me wrong before. Not as bad as Gable, but hey, that Ryan Watson is quite the bad apple. Yet fer three months the good side of him comes out, and then he discredits those three months of when he was actually a morally correct human being. Yep, that’s what’s sad ‘bout the wrestlin’ industry. Some people get so dire, so desperate, that they’re willin’ to join up with any ole group of wrestlers, just ‘cause they thinks it makes ‘em look cool.”

“I was there once. Ya know Ryan, I was there, as ya so duly noted. It was that time in Infection that made me realize I was a puppet on a string. And Mistah D. was pullin’ muh string. Didn’t ya evah feel that way when ya were a part of Infamous? Oh of course ya didn’t, ‘cause bein’ in Infamous supposedly made ya look like a bad ass cool dude.”

“News flash Ryan. Ya weren’t cool back then, and ya ain’t now. And yer comments towards me don’t make ya look good eithah, ‘specially bein’ the fact that ya know they ain’t true. Gable left me ‘cause he thought he’d head fer greenah pastures. That just ain’t been so. I know all about the contract he has, but has he done anythin’ with it? Nope. As fer Tatum, yeah, she’s the Undahground Champion and ya know what? I’m happy fer her. She earned it and she deserves it. Howevah right now ya deserve to get the brunt of how I’m feelin’ this Saturday, Mistah Watson.”


I can feel myself tensing up. I can feel myself getting a little bit louder and louder. I turn around to see that Dana is still asleep in the bed. A huge sigh of relief emanates from me before I go on.

Stacy: “Now as far as muh problems go Ryan, they’re muh problems to correct. I don’t need help in that mattah. I don’t need intervention. And I sure as hell don’t need ya lecturin’ me on how I should be treatin’ the fans or ‘bout how I ain’t been all that successful in the past couple years. Besides, ya soon forget that I was SCW Women’s Champion at the end of 2011 and into 2012. That was AFTAH Gable decided he wanted to become a dick.”

“But anyways, ya know what Ryan? This Saturday’s ‘bout you, me and the two of us actually competin’ against one anothah. With all the bull plop aside, there is one thang that I do agree with ya on. It’s time fer someone to take on David Helms and take the SCW Adrenaline Title away from him. Not like he’s focusin’ on it anyways. Besides, it’s clear I need to start all ovah. If that don’t work out, I may as well just step up on this ledge, hold both muh arms out wide and just fall into the afterworld…”


I close my eyes and actually do step up onto the railing. I steady myself and hold my arms out wide, with my mouth open.

Stacy: “Much like muh match against Gable, this match and every subsequent match mean the world to me Ryan. Every time I fail I have felt muhself gettin’ closah and closah to pullin’ the triggah.”

Suddenly I hear from behind me…

Dana: “Are you crazy Stacy? Get down from there this instant!”

I disobey the psychiatrist’s assistant, but she reaches up and plucks me down. She spins me around and looks into my eyes.

Dana: “You’re coming inside and taking those pills now. Clearly you need them.”

Feeling like I just had my death thwarted again, I scowl at her. She grabs me roughly by the arm and yanks me back inside the hotel room. She shoves me in and then closes the door to the terrace and locks it. I keep that angry look in my eyes as she next escorts me to the bathroom for my next round of depression and anxiety pills. Will they help? Probably not. I guess that remains to be seen. To be honest, that depends on if I can defeat yet another man that has a tiny share of leading me to where I am and how I feel today…
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