Des Teufels liebstes Möbelstück ist die lange Bank.

[Noelle Smith]

Liesl steps in front of the camera with a tight focused smile, her sharp eyes glittering with intensity.

"One great thing happens at the next Pride. Do you all understand what it is? My mentor Hans Kuntz and I will take on the team of 420 B.C. At first I was completely pleased, as here I get to team up with a man that I wholly admire for his drive, his strength, his formidable will, and perfection of form. This is a good thing. And on top of that, the team we were to face were not lazy Americans."

Liesl sighs, shaking her blond head with mock sorrow.

"How sad for me to realize then that we were facing Canadians, and a pair that poison their bodies and degrade their minds on top of that. Face it, Canada is just America's hat, and you two are lice. Serenity and Ligaya Fontaine I want to thank you though, for having the sort of hairstyles you do, decadent and VERY American subculture...and very, very good handholds for me to throw you out of the ring like the slothful creatures you both look like."

Liesl lifted her arms, her t-shirt drifting up as she showed off her perfect form, the glitter embossed German flag that decorated it shimmering.

"Some might say, that I am being awfully confident considering that yes, I lost my match against Terrence. However, you two are not him, and this time I have the ultimate perfect tag partner...a German man who knows how to work hard and hit hard!"

Now she smiled, and her eyes shone with devotion.

"I will show you, what German-American grit is, and Hans will show you the true spirit of Germany!"

Liesl strutted then, showing off her taut form in her tight jeans, not leaving much to the imagination. Her eyes cut to the right to rest her gaze on a full sized poster of her mentor, and she nodded as if he were there to approve of her words. She looked back to the camera and her expression grew stern.

“The things you do in your free time you might well say are none of anyone's business. That you choose to pollute your body, is all something that you two would likely just shrug at and go right about doing it all over again. No one controls you, no one tells you how to live, you rebels you. But when you get fat from the constant munchies and COPD from all the smoke? Know, that somewhere in the world, that Hans and I will be laughing at you while breathing sweetly with perfect, spotless lungs. Every decision you two make tells me that your futures will be very sad indeed. Perhaps the pair of you should invest in an American tradition and buy a crazy cat lady starter kit.”

She slapped her hands together, the sound firmly echoing in the small room she was using to film in.

“Allow Hans and I the extreme pleasure of starting you down your own personal roads to hell and futility, and serve as a taste of what would happen to the pair of you should you ever get called up to the big show somewhere. People like Hans and I, we are the elite, the attack dogs, the sharks. We will rise to the top inevitably as cream in milk. People like you? Inhabit places like Ryker's Island in New York City. We will aid you to your future on Pride, 420 B.C.”

Liesl walked away, displaying her German flag t-shirt before vanishing.


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Word Count: 600