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Starr & Auclair vs Requiem; April 2/14
Topic Started: Mar 24 2014, 09:43 PM (139 Views)
Kassie Khane
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Admin and Second in Command of the Nation of Moderation
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Jake Starr & Matt Auclair vs. Requiem (Rachel Frost & Rachel Foxx)

3 RP Limit; 4 RP limit for tag matches
Deadline: Noon EST Tuesday, April 1, 2014

~~Good Luck Everyone!~~
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Jake Starr
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Official SCW Social Misfit & Apparent Telemarketer
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"Voice of Reason" - SCW RP #224
Opponents: Requiem
Date: 04.01.14
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Auclair
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Just want to point out quick that Matt's CD for this piece starts exactly where his shoot for Retribution against Helms was ending, and explains what was on the other side of the door Matt walked through as that shoot ended.






[align=center]"Why why must it be this way
I ask myself this question each and everyday
My anger runs out of control
I just want to die"[/align]

Matt sung these final lyrics as he stepped through the door, slamming it shut behind him. He made sure to lock it behind himself as well, because he’s gotten everything he needed to say off his chest in regards to David Helms and now he had other matters to attend to, and for as much as he would love to expose Ryan Moss in front of the entire world and see him jailed again for his latest actions, he knew it wasn’t going to be that simple. First off, nobody had a clue where that madman was even hiding out right now, and there was also the fact that even if the police got involved Ryan had a hostage in his father, and Matt was more than well aware of how easily Ryan would slip through the cracks in a hostage situation. He wanted to make sure the cameraman got out of the Underground Railroad and would be able to deliver the promo to SCW headquarters safely, because if his assumption was right then not only would there be nothing in hand to be played on SCW television, but an innocent man would be dragged into a situation he had no part in. Under any other circumstances Matt wouldn’t have given a damn, but this was a matter that concerned him primarily and he was going to find a way out before any more problems came about.

Matt carefully walked through the halls; fists balled up and ready to fly if necessary. Beyond the door he had walked through were some old office-like areas and rooms that contained nothing but small storage lockers. When the metro was still operational, this had to be an area for the owners and operators to hide away and likely count the money they made while also discussing business. With the metro out of commission, however, and having been converted essentially into a fight club, Moss used this area as a hideout to not only stash anything valuable, but also conduct business for both the fight club and his drug deals. Matt remembered being back here once before a long time ago, but he’d only been led far enough in to know his way towards the one place he was mainly searching for, and that was Ryan’s main office.

As Matt snuck around and kept an eye out for any of Ryan's goons, his mind couldn’t help but become fixated on the last lyrics he had sang from Blood For Blood's "Spit My Last Breath". While he had intended their use to be for Helms, part of him knew the lyrics applied just as much to himself, especially now more than ever. He couldn’t help but ask himself why he had to even be involved in this mess and why his anger was so out of control in the first place, wondering if it would just resolve everything if he just said "fuck it" and walked away from the whole thing, getting as much distance between Ryan and himself as possible and letting whatever happened to his father happen. It was his father's fault for stirring up that insatiable beast within him in the first place, after all, and Matt had never wanted to allow him back into his life in the first place. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that his father had realized his own mistakes and was now seeking to atone for them, regardless of what he thought of his son for what Matt had now become, and he just couldn’t find it in himself to hate the man anymore. Instead, he felt pity for the hard times his father had fallen upon even despite still being wealthy. The man was getting older and more frail and Matt would feel no satisfaction in unloading upon him anymore.

Of course, that was the perfect reason for Moss to even consider going after the man in the first place.

Following his interaction with Ryan via iPad in Canada, Matt had been desperate to get back to Boston for even a little bit to try and hunt the man down before he did any serious damage to his father. He didn’t really have much of a plan initially and was running on nothing but pure anger, but since he’d been quite delayed in being allowed to come home due to SCW’s touring schedule with house shows Matt had more time to try and think things through a little more clearly. He had come here because this was Ryan’s main hideout, in a sense, and the most likely place he’d be. Of course, Matt knew full well that Ryan wouldn’t be that predictable and was probably hiding somewhere more obscure until "Hurricane Matt" left the area for Retribution. There was also the likely possibility that Ryan was already in Denver, considering he told Matt he’d be watching from the crowd, and that would give Matt a giant opening to exploit if he could find what he was looking for, which at this point was any definitive clue to the whereabouts of not only Ryan, but also his father.

Matt finally found the door that led to Ryan’s main office, but was a bit surprised to find it had been left wide open. He quickly scanned around for any signs of life, but it seemed that he was the only one here. He carefully looked through the doorway for any sign of booby traps, but none could be found. Matt just raised an eyebrow before he slowly headed inside, keeping his eyes open for any well-hidden tricks Ryan may have left anticipating his arrival. The office looked mostly the same from the last time Matt had been in here, with the only noticeable difference being even more paperwork scattered around, most of them notes regarding his drug sales and deliveries. He made his way to Ryan’s desk and began hunting through everything on it in hopes of finding anything that could be of use to him, but all he could find were more drug-related "business" papers and letters that were addressed to his father that Ryan had clearly stolen, which would’ve made Matt flip the desk if he wasn’t concerned about damaging any potential leads in the process.

Matt: Should’ve guessed the bastard would clear out expecting my return. But why wouldn’t he leave- what’s this?

Matt cut himself off mid-though as he found an old VHS tape under one of the heavier piles of paper, with a label on it that only read "PLAY ME" in black marker. Matt scoffed at the idea of Ryan actually using something as outdated as a VHS tape, but at this point he had nothing better to go off of. Locating a setup on the other side of the office that looked like it was for viewing security camera footage, Matt popped the tape in to see what might be on it. The TV came to life, and the first thing Matt noticed was the sight of Ryan Moss in a sleeveless orange prison jumpsuit seated in a chair, surrounded by nothing but dull concrete walls. His head was down and he could’ve been mistaken for being in the middle of prayer if Matt didn’t know better than that. The sudden sound of Ryan chuckling sounded like nails on a chalkboard to Matt’s ears as he saw the drug lord slowly raise his head with a freakishly calm smile on his face.

Ryan: Hello Matt. It would seem as though you found my little videotape while digging through my office. I really hope you weren’t expecting to find anybody there, but considering this is you we’re talking about I would not be surprised if this riled you up to the point where if I ever do go back I wouldn’t recognize the place.

Matt: I’m smarter than you give me credit for, jackass.

Matt knew that addressing the video wouldn’t get him anywhere, but it still felt kind of satisfying responding to whatever asinine comments he felt Ryan would make towards him. He watched as the recorded Ryan slowly rose to a stand and back kicked the chair away, letting it slam against the wall before clattering to the floor.

Ryan: If you’re looking for me Matt, then I can safely assure you that you’ll only find me whenever I wish to speak with you, just as I have been doing lately after your SCW performances. You won’t find any trail of breadcrumbs to follow, because all my valuable assets have been moved to a more... secure location, and all I’ve left behind is junk that has no meaning to me anymore. That includes some of those letters addressed to your dear old dad if you haven’t found them already, again assuming my office isn’t in shambles. I bet you’re dying to see him, aren’t you? After all, I did warn you that if you didn’t take me up on my offer from Canada then I might have to get a little rough with him as a warning. Well, I hate to say that... well, perhaps I may have gone a bit too far.

Ryan started walking as the shot panned with him, and Matt was watching and waiting for whatever Ryan was going to show him, but he was not expecting what he ultimately saw. As Ryan got close enough, he clearly recognized his father huddled on the floor at his feet. Matt’s eyes were bugging out of his skull as he took notice of the puddle of blood surrounding him and the trails of it that were flowing down from his arms under his shirt as well as dropping from his face. One of the wrists looked to have been cleanly snapped and one of his ankles was twisted in a very unnatural way. Matt, for possibly the first time in his life, looked legitimately horrified at the sight in front of him.

Ryan: Quite a pity that your words didn’t hold any weight after all. You told me your father could take whatever I could throw at him as you roared in defiance at my attempts to help ensure a win over David Helms and a guaranteed rematch for that Underground title belt. Now the me from this recording wouldn’t know if you raided my office before or after Retribution, so you’ll have to forgive me if I have no clue whether or not you’ve succeeded or failed against him yet, but either way you have to get it through your thick skull Matt. Like it or not, you need to fall in line and listen to what I tell you to do!

Ryan suddenly kicked his father in the gut with an audible thud, the sound of something breaking being audible from the man as he rolled over into even more of a heap. Matt was about to cry out to him before remembering that this was a tape and nothing he could say or do would get this Ryan to stop.

Ryan: I bet my clothing looks familiar to you Matt. I know all about the times you’ve spent locked up for your anger and the assaults, and you know full well that I’ve been incarcerated as well. They say that prison changes a man, and I can safely say that it is indeed the truth. We have both come out from that hell as more dangerous men, but in vastly different ways. You’ve simply gotten bigger and stronger, your anger more uncontrollable, and you’re more defiant than ever before. I, on the other hand, used my time more wisely. Instead of picking fights I became better acquainted with figuring out what makes the human mind tick. It’s amazing what you can figure out about the mental state of a hardened criminal just from observing their mannerisms enough. While you could rule over a prison yard simply because you were the biggest, baddest asskicker there at the time, I would rule through fear and intimidation not because of my fighting talents, but because I knew how to break each and every man in that prison. Once you find the Achilles heel, even the big and the bad will fall with relative ease, and yours has started to become quite clear to me now.

Ryan placed a foot on Matt’s father’s back and grabbed him by the hair with both hands, sadistically pulling up on his head as though he were trying to rip it off with his bare hands. Matt couldn’t watch this any longer and screamed as loud as he could, even knowing it would be for naught.

Matt: Knock it off, you son of a bitch! You’ve done enough, now leave him alone!

Naturally, Ryan didn’t stop since it was all a recording and Matt had no way of actually getting his message through. Ryan kept pulling as hard as he could before he finally changed tactics and twisted his father’s head to the side with a sickening "SNAP!" Matt just stood in pure shock as Ryan looked into the camera and carefully pulled his father’s limp body to his feet...

Ryan: If you had the horrified reaction I expected, then you really are that stupid no matter how much you’d wish to argue otherwise.

As Matt got a good look beyond the blood, he suddenly realized that it was not his father that was being attacked at all, but rather a very well-disguised mannequin dressed in clothes similar to his father’s. It was one of those fancy ballistics gel dummies that could simulate real bleeding if punctured in a way a real human body would bleed from a similar wound, hence why it was actually losing blood to add to the illusion. Ryan had started laughing in a maniacal tone as Matt looked about ready to try and leap through the TV in hopes he would actually end up wherever Moss was and tackle him to the ground before unloading absolute hell upon him.

Ryan: To put your mind at ease, your father is safe and I haven’t laid a finger on him, nor have any of my men. But I can easily assume you freaked out and demanded that I stop, which further drives the point home that no matter how defiant you wish to be towards me it doesn’t change the fact that I can break you simply by causing harm to the man who brought you into this world in the first place. You should be grateful that I showed mercy and didn’t do anything this time, but I saw the perfect opportunity to teach you a little lesson, one that you desperately need. And no, it’s not simply commanding you to shut up and obey me whenever I tell you to do something again. Think about this for a moment: if it hasn’t already happened when you see this, say you beat David Helms and earn your shot at the Underground title. Do you really think Rachel Frost is going to pull any punches with you leading up to whenever your title match is? Of course not, and I know someone like her well enough to know how she can get into your head without needing to resort to attacks of any kind. What I just demonstrated is only one possible tactic she could have pulled if your father wasn’t in my possession right now, so be grateful that no soul on Earth has a clue where I am now. You’d have been far too unstable even by your "standards" to effectively deal with her, thus losing out on a title opportunity again.

Matt could only mutter to himself as he watched Ryan through the dummy out of the shot, murderous thoughts running through his head like a bullet train not just for Moss, but for Frost as well knowing, unfortunately, that Ryan had a very good point.

Ryan: I’m gladly willing to help you Matt, but you need to be more trusting of me. Hostility isn’t going to get you anywhere, and despite my methods not being in agreement I only have your best interests in mine, even if they bring me a profit in the end as well. I can prepare you to deal with a psycho like her, and when the time comes she will learn a harsh lesson on what the Underground is all about. All I’m asking is for you to trust-

Matt finally had enough as he grabbed the TV and literally ripped it from the wall before hurling it with a beastly roar at the opposite wall, annihilating it upon impact. Breathing heavily, Matt just glared at the damaged remains and contemplated actually going through with the complete destruction of Ryan’s office, but instead decided to just make his way out now that it was clear as daylight that he wouldn’t he finding any trace of Ryan around here like he’d hoped. As he started to leave, Matt voiced his thoughts out loud to himself with a sudden evil smirk.

Matt: You want to teach me how to deal with a psycho Moss? Then I hope you train me pretty damn well, because after I use that to put the cowgirl six feet under once Helms is out of the way, I’m going to see how well it works on your sorry ass and end all of this once and for all.

[align=center]--[/align]

"I bet you feel pretty damn good about yourself, don’t you Frost?"

Our scene opens up and immediately finds Matt Auclair leaning against a gray stone wall, almost as though this is his typical scene when he’s not looking to really drive a point home but just speak his mind. Nothing appears to be out of the ordinary at first glance, but upon closer inspection one can easily spot the black eye and some of the facial bruises he was left with following Rachel Frost’s attack on him in the parking lot after he chose to leave a house show early. One could say it was his fault for choosing to leave early in the first place, but Matt had other things on his mind that night and already took care of the match he had been saddled with. The fact that he was, however, standing here with something to say should serve as an indication not only to Frost that she once again couldn’t keep him down, but also to Jake Starr that Matt’s going to be present at Breakdown and prepared to unleash hell.

Matt: I’ll give credit where credit is due: you got around your little suspension by attacking me in the parking lot in hopes of sending a message. Unfortunately, once again I’m still standing and still marching towards the night where I get to end your reign as Underground champion once and for all. Did you seriously think brass knucks were going to put me down? I really hope you’ll be smarter than that next time, because it’s not anything I haven’t eaten before and kept on fighting. Knucks aren’t a rare sight in the world I come from, and if your plan is to try and prove you can punch me out just to prove a point, then you’ll be punching ‘til your arms fall off even if you load ‘em. David certainly got more creative than that all for a chance to put me down to try and get to you, so I was hoping you’d go above and beyond and have been sorely disappointed so far.

I will say this, though: if you want a fight before the next pay-per-view that badly, I’m not hard to find. I’ll gladly wait in a bar for you to show up if you want, and SCW can pick up the tab for whatever damages are caused just so they have no right to complain about it being on "their property" while they’re able to call it that.

Matt just smiles, a smile that’s daring Frost to come after him right now if she dares because Matt’s prepared to start throwing bombs with her next chance he gets. Had she not been suspended, that chance would have been at the very next Breakdown, but for now that possibility was left up in the air with no surefire answer as to what was going on.

Matt: I do have to express some disappointment regarding the next show, considering that you did get suspended cowgirl. I was looking forward to bulldozing my way through you and the other Rachel to see what kind of preview you’d provide me for your violent little plans for Brooklyn. Let’s be honest here, though... I don’t expect you to stay quiet and accept this suspension, because I sure as hell wouldn’t, and I’m waiting to see if you try to sneak in and compete anyway or if you think you can put on some homemade slasher flick of yourself hoping to get in my head. It’s not going to be that easy with me bitch, because the only thing my mind focuses on is the complete destruction of whoever stands in my way, and you have nothing in your bag of tricks that I haven’t already seen somewhere else before. Round two isn’t going to be any easier than round one, and trust me when I say that I have far worse in store for you this time around. If you want a sneak peak, then I’ll bring the fight to you if that’s what you really want. I don’t think Jake would mind, since he’s already got little faith in me and I’d hope he wouldn’t fuck things up by letting himself get beat by Foxx after he went on a tangent about being U.S. champ.

By the way Jake, word of advice: worry about your own shit and I’ll worry about mine. I don’t like this little arrangement any more than you do, and I have no reservations of knocking you out and going solo if I have to, because no matter how this plays out we’re the ones getting the 'W' in the end and there’s not a damn thing Aiken or his little horror show can really do to stop us. If I didn’t have my eyes on the cowgirl’s belt, what’s stopping me from coming after yours? You never did beat me, just sat back and took a countout win that I’ll admit was due to a stupid mistake on my part, but one that won’t be repeated in a rematch. Consider yourself lucky that we’re supposed to be on the same team for Breakdown and that you aren’t my target, but I’d grow eyes in the back of your head for down the road if I were you. After all, who’s to say that you and your title may not be in my crosshairs once I’m done breaking Frosty’s face into a jigsaw puzzle?

While he was sure some people in management people weren’t too happy with the implications of Matt’s warning to Starr, Auclair could really care less. Sure, titles weren’t initially a high priority for him over simply beating people to within an inch of their lives, but that didn’t mean he had no reason to not pursue them. And let’s just listen to what Matt has to say next now that my brain’s fried from all the negatives in that last sentence.

Matt: The only person that really leaves unaddressed is Rachel Foxx, or the original Rachel I guess since Frosty didn’t start out here with that name. What do I really need to say to you that doesn’t already apply to the superior Rachel? You’ve been playing mind games with a man I flattened a few shows ago by using his old man, oh I’m so scared. Funny that I just don’t see a murderous beast when I look at you, even though that’s what many people regard you as. You and the cowgirl have been standing alongside one another for a while and put on a violent showcase all over David and his buddy back at War of the Roses, but everyone’s eyes have been on your partner in crime because she’s been the more consistent in terms of violence and outright sadistic tendencies. Where does that leave the original Rachel? Scraping the bottom of the barrel hoping to find something to entertain herself without going into full-blown "scramble somebody’s brains with a sledgehammer" mode, which is just sad if you ask me. You afraid of following in the other Rachel’s footsteps and getting suspended? I wouldn’t doubt it, considering I see no reason to believe anything other than the fact that Rachel Foxx has gone soft.

Have I pissed you off and woken that beast up yet? I hope so, because I don’t care what Starr thinks about it, I’m looking for a fight on Breakdown and if the cowgirl can’t show then I want the next best thing, and that her "best friend" and running mate in the Coalition. I want you to try and show me why I should be afraid of either Rachel, because then I’ll gladly stomp it out like the remains of a cigarette and continue to roll towards my Underground title match like the walking tank that I am. Throw everything you got at me, because all you’re find is an indestructible force hellbent on leaving bodies in my wake until I have usurped the throne of blood and skulls that Frost currently occupies. Don’t worry, I have no plans of "saving" the Underground division like a certain pair of self-righteous dumbasses would probably hope to do if they were in my position, I simply plan on giving it a more fitting dictator to run the show with an iron fist.

And if any of you, Jake included, has a problem with that?

You’ll have only a few seconds to voice your disapproval before I launch my bombs and leave nothing but silence and shattered skulls remaining.

Matt gets off the wall and leans close to the camera as he delivers his last few lines, wanting his latest battle scars to leave a lasting impression on whoever is brave enough to view this and especially get his point across to both members of Requiem and his "partner" come Breakdown, and it is this shot that our cameras fades out on.
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Rachel Foxx
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The Duchess of Debauchery
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Been a long 4 days of RPing, so I didn't have time to code this or put it on my layout. This follows the CD I placed on the CD board. Enjoy :)

[align=center]The Betrothal, Chapter II[/align]

Not exactly sure what to do with myself now. Betrothed to my Kirian, this is the point when most other women would run to their local Barnes and Noble or Borders and pick up a wedding planner and handfuls of bridal magazines. This is what they would have you believe is the fun part of being a woman. It seems to be a blanket assumption that every little girl has spent more than a fair amount of their time planning out their dream wedding. They have all made a makeshift dress, set their room up they way they wanted it to be for their dream wedding and married themselves off to a friend or one of their various stuffed animals. Its almost expected of us at this point, like little boys playing fireman, or learning a sport. Girls are supposed to plan out their dream weddings to the very last detail, learn to cook, clean and take care of a man as we "play" house, and then we are given a cabbage patch kid or baby doll so we can learn to take care of a baby even while we are ourselves still babies; all as we obsess over clothes. It's the way you are supposed to be as a girl, proper, timid, frail, programmed to serve and nurture from day one. From the day we are able to sit up and understand words we are meant to dream of our weddings as the paramount of our lives. I remember my mother, one of the few times she bothered giving us any advice, telling the three of us that we should strive to be good wives so that we can catch ourselves good husbands because that is the only way we would ever get anywhere in this life.

I watched my oldest sister leave this life behind to settle down with some regular nobody. His name is Richard, and he's a banker...or a lawyer...or a...who the hell really cares. After ruling over an entire industry as the ORIGINAL Queen of Hardcore, the name that used to send shivers down spines simply at its utterance...after everything she accomplished...she settled down with the first schmuck who showed her the smallest bit of affection. And sure, he loves her, dotes over her and gives her anything she wants...but I doubt she could tell me the last time she truly felt fulfilled. Mrs. Julie Kristine Stadler, I picture her standing by the window staqring out like a war widow waiting for her soldier to come home; watching SCW TV and reminicsing about the golden days when everyone knew who she was. She yearns to be a Foxx again...but that of course is gone. Once you forsake the name...you forsake your place in this life. Do you remember when she came back...facing Katie Steward for the SCW Women's Championship...she was tame, broken, subdued. She was a Stadler, not a Foxx. He did that to her, made her a worthless heap of junk...turned her into...our mother.

Trista on the other hand, could not bring herself to forsake the name. Foxx-Porter...she figured if she kept the name, maybe she could be better. She and Axel had been married for a few years when we all got the invite to Julie's pathetic excuse for a wedding. There were no wrestlers there, no vestiges of her blood soaked, warrior past. The woman who once stood in pools of blood as a warrior princess, stood in a sea of normal nobodies and resigned herself to share in their life of boring anonimity. I saw it in her eyes, a single moment as Trista watched her older sister making herself at home amongst the common clay, where she felt absolutely disgusted. There was a flash of pure hatred for the traitor Julie, so quick to adapt to this new world in order to forget the old, forsaking those of us who lived in her past. trista didn't want that. She wasn't willing to slip into obscurity again and forget her past. for her and I, are scars are a source of pridse, each one an undying tribute to a memory we never want to forget. It wouldn't be so hard for her, she had married a fellow warrior in Axel Porter. So, she decided to cling to it, her past...that single thread that bound us together...the Foxx name, while still embracing the future...Foxx-Porter...a diluted, tamer version of the real thing. And look at her now, refusing to fade into obscurity like Julie, unable to make any kind of impact like myself. She stands, stuck between both worlds, relying on her husband to define her legacy.

So, in the face of two sisters pulled from the path of truth by a sickening dependence on the men in their lives, forgive me if I am not rushing with butterflies in my stomach to plan my wedding. I don't know...I know Kirian would never allow me to feel like I am relying on him. In everything, we are equals...PARTNERS in this crusade, destined to rule as King and Queen. And yet I cannot help my aprehensions. I don't want to end up like them, it is a fate crueler than death.

I...

I can't even figure out what I want anymore...

Would I be Rachel Frost, my new sister and I suddenly joined as one, one name, one struggle...The Requiem flying one singular flag that will strike fear into the hearts of men.

"Rachel Frost is coming" they will say, and all you can do is wait and wonder which one it will be. Neither is truly better than the other, two different brands of heartless brutality, equal in their cruelty but much different in their delivery.

Or would I remain Rachel Foxx? Would he hate me for not taking his name? Would my new family accept me if I wasn't a Frost?

My thoughts run wild, swirling through my head like a hurricane of doubt and apprehension, with Kirian as the single fixed point in all of it. The concept of marriage scares me, just the prospect that I would allow myself into something that could fail; but I am more than ready to commit myself to my Kirian...it is just the stigma that comes with marriage.

A part of me just wishes I could get it all over with. A courthouse, a Vegas wedding chapel...on the beach of one of my private islands...I just want it all to...

WOMAN: "Can I help you ma'am?"

Her voice catches me off guard and I jump a little. I qickly adjust my sunglasses and pull the hood of my sweatshirt down a little as I try to avoid being recognized before turning halfway to her. i try to be nonchalant about it.

RACHEL: "I'm looking for your wedding planning section."

She goes to point but then turns back to me. Her brows furrow and her lips purse as she wracks her brain for something.

WOMAN: "Wait a minute...don't I know you"

RACHEL: "I seriously doubt it."

WOMAN: "No...no, I DEFINITELY know you from...SOMEWHERE."

RACHEL: "I promise you don't know me."

WOMAN: "No, I'm really good with faces...I have definitely seen you before, like a lot. Like I definitely know YOU from...SOMEWHERE!!!"

RACHEL: "Seriously...you don't...know...me!!!"

She starts snapping as she tries to think.

WOMAN: "No...no...no...I know you....I've seen you..."

Before she can finish I grab her by the collar. I quickly check to make sure no one sees us. The last thing I need right now is to pull extra attention to myself. Content that no one is watching us I move quick, pulling her toward my face as I raise my sunglasses from my face. The fear in her eyes doubles as she realizes who I am. I speak quietly and quickly but still with a tone that lets her know I'm serious.

RACHEL: "Now listen...you DON'T know me, you have never seen me before and if you value having the ability to walk and talk without assistance I highly suggest you tell me what I need and forget I was here."

She looks into my eyes with those sad doe eyes the useless always use to try to get out of danger. I clearly don't care as I begin speaking again.

RACHEL: "Now, I asked you one simple question, and I have yet to get your one simple answer. So...I'm going to ask you this one more time, you are going to simply POINT. If you open your mouth, or make ANY noise at all, I will break you in fucking half!!! Do you understand?"

She nods through her fear.

RACHEL: "Good!! Now...where...are...your...wedding planners?"

The timid woman shakes as she slowly raises a shaking hand and points to her left. I follow it with my eyes as I see a section labeled "Wedding Planning." I smile as I drop my sunglasses over my eyes as I put her down on her feet, brushing her off a bit as my attention now focuses on the Wedding Planning books. I speak to her again, but my attention does not return to her.

RACHEL: "Thank you. See, that wasn't so hard. Now remember..."

I finally look at her again.

RACHEL: "I was never here!!!"

She shakes as she looks at me in terror. I however do not pay her any atteniton as i make my way over to the books.


------------------------------------------------

FROM THE BLOG OF RACHEL FOXX:

And here we go...

Mere nights after the Sinistry fully took over IWC, it seems that the coalition is poised to do it again. We are once again poised for a takeover as two more sacrificial lambs have been led out for slaughter. Unfortunately, my sister in blood is suspended, making this...more of a fair fight. Do you really believe that i am scared? Do you really believe that I am not willing to enter the ring and fight Starr and Auclair alone? This isn't about winning, this isn't about my Win-Loss record, this is about causing pain and suffering. this is about hurting people, breaking their limbs, making them question their gods!!!!

Jake Starr, you know I take no pleasure in what i must do here. Once again you and I meet on the field of battle as enemies, as we will seemingly never be allowed to stand as friends. You and I stand as the tragedy Romeo and Juliet COULD have been, had they yearned for each other but never been allowed to see one another. There was a time when you were the only thing I wanted...Jake Starr...the Czar of the Shooting Five Star...I yearned for you the way Juliet yearned for her Romeo. But you...you let it all get in our way...yur ignorance, our schedules, our friends...Your WIFE!! You will never know how badly you missed out; and now, I am forced to step into the ring and tear you apart. Again, I take no joy in my task, but it will also not be without it's enjoyment


As for you Matt Auclair, I can't wait to see the excuse you put on your website for this loss. That seems to be your MO, anytime you lose you post it on your website with a brief excuse about how it wasn't your fault. Unable to accept the fact that you are nothing more than a common failure, you must find someone else to blame your failings on. Your partner didn't work hard enough, the referee was too slow, your opponent didn't "play fair," the sun was in your eyes, the wind was blowing in the wrong direction...your tampon was in wrong. It is actually one of my new favorite games to play: What's Auclair's Excuse?

Well Auclair, tis time you have been teamed with one of the toughest competitors in Supreme Championship Wrestling, so he will not be your excuse. My partner has been suspended, so you can't use the numbers as your excuse. This time you will lose because you are a weak-willed, pathetic piece of prime-failure. You will lose because you are just not good enough to beat me, you will lose because that is what you do. Your only hope is that Starr can carry you through this, and even then, you'll probably find a way to whine about your win.

Oh, and one last thing gentlemen...When this match happens, and thing transpire the way they will, I hope you will not just focus on the pain, or the suffering. I hope you can see the beauty of what we have planned for you all. I hope you don't waste your time whining or complaining. When it happens, and you will know when that is...

...just enjoy the show :)
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Rachel Tatum Lee
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"Well I'm gonna whoop yer a.....

Wait...I'm suspended?

Dab Gummit!"


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