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RorieXSteele
  • Rank:Diamond Member
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  • From:Canada
  • Register:12/07/2008 01:08 AM

Date Posted:07/24/2016 17:56 PMCopy HTML

We open up to Rorie Steele walking into the building. She doesn’t have any bags with her, nor does she have anyone in tow holding them. She is wearing her street clothes; a black tight dress and heels. She has a look of determination on her face as she heads towards Perry’s office. She storms into the room, startling Perry, who is doing… something… at his desk.

WALLACE: ”What the fuck Rorie?!”

STEELE: “Put your cock back in your pants, Perry. We need to talk.”

WALLACE: ”My cock is in my pants Ms. Pinkeye Princess. You’re rude as fuck.”

STEELE: ”So are you, you massive fucking twatgobbler. And I don’t have fucking pinkeye. What are you, fucking retarded?”

Looking down at his desk, he rubs his forehead for a brief moment before looking back to her.

WALLACE: ”What can I do for you, Rorie?”

STEELE: ”I’m out.”

WALLACE: ”Out of what? You care for a drink or something?”

STEELE: ”No. I don’t want a fucking drink, Perry.”

She rolls her eyes and steps closer to the desk, now sure that he isn’t, in fact, rubbing one out under his desk.

STEELE: ”I’m out of this fucking match. I don’t want in this bullshit threeway crap.”

WALLACE: ”It was my understanding that threeways are your thing. Well I’m sorry, I’m OUT of fucks to give. The match is already booked. Just do your job, you’re a goddamn former champion for christ sake.”

STEELE: ”I’m a former champion because I was handed a fucking title. A title, as you know, that I wanted no fucking part in having. But here I am… now known as a former fucking champion of a bullshit tag title. I don’t want that shit.”

Perry then bursts into laughter as the words stop rolling off the tip of her tongue.

WALLACE: ”Aidan was the better champion, right?”

STEELE: ”Now that… That I could NEVER say. She’s a cunt. But you should have given the shot to one of your other playthings. Fucking Erron or whatever. Either way, it wasn’t what I wanted. None of this has been. Ever since I got here, everything has become this massive pile of shit that YOU fucking orchestrated. And now you have me going up against that tatted-up douchebag O’Donnell and that flighty fuck Jace? What the fuck is this? Throw Rorie in the ring with thirteen-thousand people at a time? I’m good, Perry… but I ain’t that fucking good.”

WALLACE: ”Come on now, think about this. Sit back and compare your record to theirs. You’re five and two in singles competition. Those other two can’t touch your record. Let’s think about this for a moment.”

STEELE: ”Yeah… IN SINGLES. When was the last time I had a fucking singles match, huh? Fucking forever. Because all you enjoy doing is putting me into shit with that pedophile-hillbilly rapist Dakota, fucking Erron, and throwing us up against those delusional idiots in Cuntstable. I’M NOT EVEN FUCKING IN OMERTA, PERRY!”

WALLACE: ”Well what do you want me to do? My hands are tied. The match is booked.”

STEELE: ”Re-book it. You own this fucking place, Perry. You run the show. Tell them I’m not showing up. I want the week off. One on one for them. How is that fucking hard?”

SHERELL: ”I’ve had just about enough of this.”

Walking out from the other side of the room, hidden behind the open door, Kaysie Sherell steps in beside Rorie and looks her dead in the eye.

WALLACE: ”Uh-oh, you done fucked up now.”

SHERELL: ”I’ve stood back in that corner long enough after you barged into here trying to throw around orders and demands. You have a match later tonight, sweetheart. I would suggest that you show up and fulfill your contractual obligations.”

Rorie raises a brow, looking the woman in front of her over.

STEELE: ”Sugar… It looks like the door hit your square in the face just as I walked in… Shoot. Sorry not sorry.”

She turns her head to Perry.

STEELE: ”Seriously, though. What the fuck is this, Perry? Can’t fight your own fucking battles? Gunna have your little cockpuppet fight them for you? Huh? Fucking pathetic little worm.”

She turns her eyes back to Kaysie.

STEELE: ”My contract isn’t like everyone else’s here, you massive thundercunt. I do what the fuck I want, when I want. You don’t come around here and stick that godawful nosejob into my fucking business and act like you own the place. And just a little FYI for you… You’ve got fucking NOTHING on me, bitch.”

SHERELL: ”Excuse me? First of all, you CAN and WILL address me about this situation. I AM the 4CW Executive Assistant and Head of Perry Relations, and you will not come in here barking out orders like this. It would be in your best interest to show up for your match later tonight. Maybe there is a reason your contract isn’t like other big contracts around here. Ever thought about that attitude?”

STEELE: ”Wait… what was it you said? Assistant? That’s right… YOU’RE A FUCKING ASSISTANT. Do you not realize how fucking sad that is? And you’re trying to tell me what I should and should not do? It’s in my best fucking interest? I don’t think so. My best fucking interest is ruining your nosejob, making you bleed all over that pretty little dress of yours, and not fucking saying ‘I’m sorry’ for ruining it. And then… saying a big ‘ol FUCK YOU to Perry. You fucking CUNTRAG.”

Her eyes shot over to Perry, who sat comfortably in his chair. If looks could burn, Perry would be up in flames. Rorie did not like being told what to do.

SHERELL: ”We obviously have a problem here. You are refusing to compete while under contract. How about we just settle this real quick and we suspend you without pay, but, still keep you under contract for the time being so you can’t compete elsewhere?”

STEELE: ”Excuse me?”

SHERELL: ”I’m pretty sure you heard me loud and clear, princess.”

Rorie’s teeth clenched together and her hands curled up beside her. She was using every ounce of power to not hit this woman right now.

STEELE: ”You know what? Fuck you. And you can go fuck yourself too, Perry. I’m not competing tonight. I’m done with this bullshit. Fuck this place.”

Rorie turns her heel, heading for the door.

STEELE: ”Oh… and for the record, Perry. Your cock was tiny!”

Rorie holds up a hand, extending her pinky finger towards Perry. She then storms out of the room.

WALLACE: ”MY COCK IS MAGNIFICENT!!! You’re just mad because any man with you is like throwing a hotdog down a hallway!”

Perry bursts up from his chair, walks around the desk and then storms towards the door. Stepping out into the hall, he yells furiously in anger.

WALLACE: ”FUCKING MAGNIFICENT!!!”

Backing into the office, Perry then slams the door shut. Turning to Kaysie, the anger quickly disappears as an innocent looks comes over his face.

WALLACE: ”I’m right, aren’t I? You seem pleased.”

SHERELL: ”I’m just fucking peachy Perry.”

Walking towards the minibar across the room, Perry grabs an empty glass and a bottle of Scotch. Breathing heavily from the heated encounter, Kaysie walks over to the sofa along the far side wall. Taking a seat, the breathing slowly dies down to a normal pace as it appears she has calmed down.

WALLACE: ”Who in the hell does she think she is?”

SHERELL: ”She’s one of the inmates who used to run the asylum around these parts. It’s not like that anymore, I run this bitch now. I’m far from Jackie Vaughn”

Downing the glass he had just poured, Perry thinks and collects himself for a moment before pouring another.

WALLACE: ”First Jack, and now Rorie. What is wrong with these people? Rorie will calm down and be back, she’s just a rude bitch. However, you really let Jack have it out there earlier tonight. That was actually pretty hot.”

SHERELL: ”He deserved it. I’m tired of members of the Proletariat disguising themselves at the bourgeois. ” 
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