Relieving The Sting
Dec 24, 2016 22:26:29 GMT -5
Post by Jaelynn on Dec 24, 2016 22:26:29 GMT -5
Location: “Randy’s School of Wrestling” (Off-Camera)
“You ran out of gas too quickly. What in the devil made you think a video game would help you become the Paramount Champion?” Randy asks as he blocks a series of punches and kicks from his student, Jaelynn Ramsey.
“It seemed like a solid idea at the time. Isn’t simulation technology a major training tool for student pilots?” She inquires with genuine interest.
“This is how Peaches gets the best of y--”
Before Randy could finish his response, he takes a knee to the gut from the blonde. The middle aged man squirms, as a groan slips out of him.
“Used to get the best of me! I will be ready for her next time if the opportunity presents itself again.” She says this with certainty, as he used a “triggering” word on her.
“Still stings, huh?” He says, composing himself.
“I am making an effort in taking your advice. Instead of becoming flustered over someone, I will turn it into ammunition.”
“Praise God this might be that breakthrough I’ve wanted for you!”
REC*
“Susan, as much as you fought and clawed your way at Night 2, it was evident that it was going to be me coming out on top. So much buildup and expectations were made for the budding pretty girl with Puma in her list of contacts…
And for what? Not a damn thing. A pat on the back, the old and tired, ‘you’ll get them next time, Susie!’ Awwww! Isn’t it a relief to know that you have something else to fall back on if professional wrestling does not pan out for you? I admit, I am not as connected, therefore, this is all I have going for. Mediocrity or slipping by will not pay the bills. Embrace your beauty while it remains, but remember ‘It’ girls are temporary.
The night continues, I catch a breather, watch another dull Susie Kent vignette with other cast mates included. My trainer Randy is sending me multiple text messages filled with typographical errors. He was obviously nervous as all hell for me. Again, lack of experience contributed to my short lived rumble appearance. A ‘half assed job,’ is how I see it, and I am not proud of it. I entered the Red Carpet Rumble at a time where many of those that started were either eliminated or on their last life. Peaches found the perfect opportunity to eliminate me, and the Paramount Champion is...neither of us.”
A forced giggle comes out of her, quickly turning into an annoyed expression as she rolls her eyes.
“I’d say that is the silver lining in this, however, there’s no reason to rejoice. I need to continue to catch the eye of those that call the shots, and determines who is fit to contend for any of the 3GW Championships. Thursday Night Challenge Six will be my chance to prove that I am better than what I have demonstrated at the Red Carpet Rumble. I have been tasked with ‘welcoming’ Saylor. Woo and a hoo.
This is her professional debut, therefore the butterflies must be fluttering in her tummy. While her friends find Eminem’s mom’s spaghetti memes hilarious, she’s dying on the inside. Indigestion tablets and Pepto Bismol will come to mind when she packs her bag for D-Day. Locker room urban legends are based on these scenarios. Do not become another victim!
Given her social media presence, I can tell I’m in for a nauseating experience myself. I thought it was bad when I crossed paths with Putrid Peaches and Dirty Gonzalez, however, this sub-genre of ‘kill them with kindness’ tools on Twitter is nothing but a cancer to this business. No one is looking for thank-you notes or pats on the back after their matches. While many are relieved that they have reached the middle of the work week, your Wednesdays are nothing but a circle jerk amongst you and your kinda-sorta-maybe bi-curious friends.
One minute there’s ‘Woman Respect Wednesday’ (a major perv magnet,) and the next, you’re praising one another for completing a training session as if you found the cure for AIDS. ‘Hey guys! I had a phone call that went swell! Fingers crossed! Oh! I filled out an application for this amazing company! I’m treating myself to Pinkberry and you betcha there will be sprinkles added to my peppermint chocolate swirll!’
Yawn.
No matter what you were taught at this ‘GrayFoote Academy,’ you will not be prepared for what I have to offer. Despite the amount of tape and advice given, you might as well accept your first L. You will seek comfort knowing that your mentors and ‘baes’ will still be around when you return to the academy in pain and disappointment. That’s nice, I guess.”
“You ran out of gas too quickly. What in the devil made you think a video game would help you become the Paramount Champion?” Randy asks as he blocks a series of punches and kicks from his student, Jaelynn Ramsey.
“It seemed like a solid idea at the time. Isn’t simulation technology a major training tool for student pilots?” She inquires with genuine interest.
“This is how Peaches gets the best of y--”
Before Randy could finish his response, he takes a knee to the gut from the blonde. The middle aged man squirms, as a groan slips out of him.
“Used to get the best of me! I will be ready for her next time if the opportunity presents itself again.” She says this with certainty, as he used a “triggering” word on her.
“Still stings, huh?” He says, composing himself.
“I am making an effort in taking your advice. Instead of becoming flustered over someone, I will turn it into ammunition.”
“Praise God this might be that breakthrough I’ve wanted for you!”
-
REC*
“Susan, as much as you fought and clawed your way at Night 2, it was evident that it was going to be me coming out on top. So much buildup and expectations were made for the budding pretty girl with Puma in her list of contacts…
And for what? Not a damn thing. A pat on the back, the old and tired, ‘you’ll get them next time, Susie!’ Awwww! Isn’t it a relief to know that you have something else to fall back on if professional wrestling does not pan out for you? I admit, I am not as connected, therefore, this is all I have going for. Mediocrity or slipping by will not pay the bills. Embrace your beauty while it remains, but remember ‘It’ girls are temporary.
The night continues, I catch a breather, watch another dull Susie Kent vignette with other cast mates included. My trainer Randy is sending me multiple text messages filled with typographical errors. He was obviously nervous as all hell for me. Again, lack of experience contributed to my short lived rumble appearance. A ‘half assed job,’ is how I see it, and I am not proud of it. I entered the Red Carpet Rumble at a time where many of those that started were either eliminated or on their last life. Peaches found the perfect opportunity to eliminate me, and the Paramount Champion is...neither of us.”
A forced giggle comes out of her, quickly turning into an annoyed expression as she rolls her eyes.
“I’d say that is the silver lining in this, however, there’s no reason to rejoice. I need to continue to catch the eye of those that call the shots, and determines who is fit to contend for any of the 3GW Championships. Thursday Night Challenge Six will be my chance to prove that I am better than what I have demonstrated at the Red Carpet Rumble. I have been tasked with ‘welcoming’ Saylor. Woo and a hoo.
This is her professional debut, therefore the butterflies must be fluttering in her tummy. While her friends find Eminem’s mom’s spaghetti memes hilarious, she’s dying on the inside. Indigestion tablets and Pepto Bismol will come to mind when she packs her bag for D-Day. Locker room urban legends are based on these scenarios. Do not become another victim!
Given her social media presence, I can tell I’m in for a nauseating experience myself. I thought it was bad when I crossed paths with Putrid Peaches and Dirty Gonzalez, however, this sub-genre of ‘kill them with kindness’ tools on Twitter is nothing but a cancer to this business. No one is looking for thank-you notes or pats on the back after their matches. While many are relieved that they have reached the middle of the work week, your Wednesdays are nothing but a circle jerk amongst you and your kinda-sorta-maybe bi-curious friends.
One minute there’s ‘Woman Respect Wednesday’ (a major perv magnet,) and the next, you’re praising one another for completing a training session as if you found the cure for AIDS. ‘Hey guys! I had a phone call that went swell! Fingers crossed! Oh! I filled out an application for this amazing company! I’m treating myself to Pinkberry and you betcha there will be sprinkles added to my peppermint chocolate swirll!’
Yawn.
No matter what you were taught at this ‘GrayFoote Academy,’ you will not be prepared for what I have to offer. Despite the amount of tape and advice given, you might as well accept your first L. You will seek comfort knowing that your mentors and ‘baes’ will still be around when you return to the academy in pain and disappointment. That’s nice, I guess.”