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Rank：Diamond Member
- Score：643
- Posts：643
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From：Canada
- Register：12/07/2008 01:08 AM
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Date Posted：07/24/2016 15:23 PMCopy HTML
The scene begins with static, which quickly turns to black. From there, we see Rorie Steele standing in front of a door in a hallway. The design of the door is rather intricate but painted black. It has the numbers 1424 drilled into it. Rorie has her arms crossed over her chest, but her black jeans and low cut black Rob Zombie t-shirt could still be seen. She lazily raised an arm to motion to the door.
Rorie Steele: “Alright, cunts. I was asked to do a video documentary type thing about what I actually do every day. How I live my life, or whatever. I don’t know which dickhead suggested it, but I can’t turn the request down for some stupid reason. So… I guess we’ll start at my front door. I live in this condo here. I won’t tell you where, since I don’t want you twats looking for me. This is my door. It is nice. Enjoy it on screen because you’ll never see it in real life.”
She turns to the door, opening it up. The hallway in front of her is painted black, the flooring done with off-white large tiles. On the right side is a black table pushed against the wall with some silver and green decorations on it. She turns her head to the camera.
Rorie Steele: “This is the hallway. Where I walk and stuff.”
She pauses.
Rorie Steele: “Like how the fuck is this shit interesting to people? The fuck.”
She shakes her head and continues on. To the left is an opening into the kitchen. It is painted a blood red color, with all the appliances in black. The cabinets are the same white as the floor with black marble for countertops. Everything is spotless. As if never touched.
Rorie Steele: “This is the kitchen. It is fantastic. Or whatever. You may be wondering why it is so clean. That’s because I am, surprisingly, a neat freak. Why do you think Cyrus never got mad at me when I cleaned his house? And I refuse to pay someone because I don’t trust them enough to not steal my shit. Fucking cleaning ladies…”
She had been looking at the cameraman. Her face turned into that of annoyance. She looked him up and down, raising a brow.
Rorie Steele: “Don’t fucking tell me what to do. Pointing at the fucking fridge like you want something.”
The guy motions again to the fridge, mouthing to her to open it. She rolls her eyes and goes for both sides of the fridge, pulling the doors open.
Rorie Steele: “Why would you think people would want to see this bullshit?”
Inside was filled with all healthy foods. Mushrooms, kale, tomatoes, apples, kiwis, and all other random fruits and vegetables. She also has a container in there with a plastic bag inside of it, white liquid in the bag. The cameraman looks at it questionably. She looks at the container and then to the camera.
Rorie Steele: “It’s milk, dickhead. I get it brought in from Canada. Canadian milk is better. And the bags stay fresher.”
The cameraman is still confused, but lets it go, filming the rest of the contents of the fridge. Before he’s finished, Rorie shuts the doors of the fridge. She turns her head to the cameraman, a smirk across her lips.
Rorie Steele: “Actually… Speaking of how things aren’t as fresh in America… Let’s talk about something. Or… someone. The un-freshest of all creatures in America today, Aidan Carlisle. Please, viewers at home, give her a round of applause.”
Rorie claps her hands sarcastically.
Rorie Steele: “Congratulations on being the most fucking indecisive person in sports entertainment today. ‘I’m going to leave 4CW’. ‘I’m going to stay’. ‘I’m giving up my titles and leaving 4CW forever’. ‘JK… I’m going to defend them again suddenly’. Honestly, woman. Are you fucking bipolar? Can’t make a decision? And don’t even get me started on your mood swings on Twitter. You have more swings than the fucking ride at a theme park. And you’re probably just as disliked as that very ride. Because the swing ride is fucking terrible and people only go on it when there’s nothing else available. Interesting! Also sounds like how people treat you!”
Rorie smirks and walks around the island in the center of the kitchen, still keeping her eyes on the camera.
Rorie Steele: “You, Aidan… are a sad excuse for a Champion. Your own partner left you. Grabbed his bags and left. Couldn’t even bring himself to compete with you for one last match. And before you go on about how you’re going to be tagging elsewhere… bitch, please. You think you’ll win them somewhere else? Why do you think you were Champions here for so long? Nobody else had the balls to go up against you. The Tag Team division here was basically non-existent. It’s no wonder you stayed with the belt. Can’t even put a claim on being better than anyone. There was nobody to be better than. And… to be quite honest, I’m a little nervous about putting on that belt after it’s been on that sweaty midriff of yours. I’m going to have to clean the shit out of it. I expect mold…”
Rorie’s face scrunched up in disgust. She looked around the room and then turned towards the next room over.
Rorie Steele: “Alright. This room is becoming a waste of time. It’s not even that interesting. I eat here. The end. I will tell you a small secret, though. See this island here? First christened spot.”
She smiles sweetly at the guy and walks into the next room. The living room. The walls in here are painted a turquoise color with all of the decorations in black, green, and silver. She looks around the room for a moment and then turns back to the camera.
Rorie Steele: “Welcome to my living room. This is where all the magic happens. And by magic… I mean watching movies.”
She point to the four bookcases that were beside the large TV. Each one was filled will DVDs and Blu-ray’s. She smiled at her collection. She had been working on this shit for years. She turned back to the camera.
Rorie Steele: “Now… many of these movies are filled with fantasy and completely unrealistic stories that people love. Aidan’s life mimics these types of movies. This fantastical idea that she’s better than everyone else. When… in reality… most people are just scared of your man hands. You beat a girl senseless… a girl that practically couldn’t even defend herself. But you took it upon yourself to tear her apart. That’s fucked up, sugar. Real fucked up.”
She shakes her head.
Rorie Steele: “But what’s more fucked up is that you seem to think you know everything about me. You’ve literally done exactly what EVERYONE else has done. Called me a slut and a whore, acting like you were the first to do it. Please. Everything you say is rehashed garbage you grabbed from others. The only difference is you change some of your words to those less frequently used in every day life to make yourself sound smarter. Fucking pretentious hipster bullshit right there, doll. Congratulations… you grabbed a thesaurus and used every synonym you could find. Color me impressed.”
Rorie rolls her eyes and walks to the black curtains where the windows are. She pulls them open more, brightening up the room. She looks at the amazing view of the city below.
Rorie Steele: “But the way I see it… is you’re jealous. BEYOND jealous, really. I came in here and… took EVERYTHING from you.”
Rorie turns her head to look at the camera just at that moment. She looked sinister. As if she was going to grab the cameraman in that single moment and throw his body through the window.
Rorie Steele: “I took everything you wanted. You wanted Cyrus back… everyone could see that. But I come in and what happens? He gets a tiny taste and soon after leaves his girlfriend. Then… just when you think you have a chance, secretly, of course… I pull the rug from under your feet. The taste didn’t stop that first night. My favorite part? After a few sessions in, he told me how much better I am in bed than you. You see… you were getting on his nerves one night… he needed a way to… let out his frustrations. And who was there to help out? Me. And my GOD did his frustrations make things better. With that shitty accent of his… as he pulled my hair… he said, ‘You are a million times better than Aidan, love.’. And… later on… ‘You taste better than her too…’”
She deepened her voice and put on a fake accent for Cyrus’ words. Her crude remarks made her smile. She didn’t care about what she was saying. She knew it would get into Aidan’s head. Every little thing she said was planting a small seed. One that Aidan surely would never admit to.
Rorie Steele: “I took your spot next to Cyrus. I took the spot you probably wanted in Omerta… And I’m not even IN Omerta. But it makes me so pleased to have that over you. To be wanted more than you ever could be. Honestly… I’m quite sure Cyrus treats me better as a slave than he ever wanted to treat you. Why? Because you’re a pathetic little twat and nobody wants to be around you. I’m kind of surprised your current boyfriend sticks around… then again… I’m not. He’s a ginger. They have to leach onto someone in order to feel wanted. Again… much like you. You think I stuck myself to Cyrus? Sugar… he continually sought me out. It wasn’t like that first meeting in 4CW was the first time we had talked…”
She paused for a moment, looking back outside.
Rorie Steele: “I’ve taken things you probably won’t even admit to wanting. Because you’re too hardheaded to say that someone is right. You’re too tough and powerful to admit to anything that makes you look semi weak. You emasculate every single man around you so that you can pretend that you are better than them. More powerful than them. More manly than them. It’s no wonder you can’t keep men around. You even scared off that Wolf guy with your overcompensation. Do you do what you do because you think it will make people like you more? Respect you more? Are you that fucking dull that you need to pretend to be better than anyone else around you? Now that’s fucking pathetic, Aidan. But I’ve taken all these things from you… and I feel great about it. But I’m not done. I want another thing from you, Aidan. I’m taking your fucking title.”
She smirked at the camera as she looked at it over her shoulder. She turned around fully and started walking to a new room. The bedroom. She opened the door and stepped inside, the camera following. The room was done up in the same theme as the rest of the condo. Black, Green, turquoise, and silver. Rorie sat on the black bedspread, looking up at the cameraman.
Rorie Steele: “You know… It’s actually funny you referenced dogs… Fitting, really, since I called you that exact thing when I first mentioned your unattractive self. The first time I saw something from you, was when you WILLINGLY got on your knees and did what Cyrus told you to do. Like a fucking dog. You want to say I’m pathetic for getting myself into this? Don’t talk shit about my situation in comparison to yours. I put up at least a bit of a fight. I stood my ground as long as I could. But you? Submitted to Cyrus like a fucking animal. You call yourself the Alpha Bitch… yet… you bow down to a man. ‘Alpha’ my fucking ass. You’re just a wannabe badass, sugar. Nothing more. Bitch, however, is fitting as fuck. Dog. And don’t you know? Chihuahua’s are one of the most aggressive dogs out there, sugar. They may be small, but they’re feisty… and those teeth are like needles. But I’m not a dog… so your analogy only works for yourself.”
She smiled sweetly up at the camera. She then remembered why they were in there. She looked around the room.
Rorie Steele: “Right, right. This is my bedroom. I actually don’t spend a ton of time in here, to be honest. For anything. I do have a huge bathroom, though. The shower is huge.”
She stood up and walked over to the bathroom door, opening it. She turned the light on and the camera panned around the room. It was all done in black and white marble. The shower was to the left in the room, bigger than any normal type of shower.
Rorie Steele: “That shower is my pride and joy. I have a thing about showers. I don’t know what it is.”
She turned to look at the shower quickly, admiring it for a short time. Weird woman, that Rorie. She turned back to the camera.
Rorie Steele: “You see, this is my life. This is MY condo. I live here. I pay for it. Surprising, right? I’ve had many places bought for me. Many things bought for me. But this… this has always been the one thing I got myself. That’s not to say some of the furnishings aren’t from some of my exes. I can’t help it if they still wish to give me gifts and pay for some of my stuff. I can’t blame them either. It’s like a way of buying me back, but no amount of gifts will ever get me back. Funny thing is, they all know that. It’s like a dominatrix thing. They want to please me. Why take that away from them?”
She smirked.
Rorie Steele: “This is my life… And what, my dear, do you have to claim? Not a home. Practically living in a van down by the river. Living with “friends”. Taking advantage of generosity. You’re a freeloading little cunt, Aidan. You and your boyfriend. I have cousins like that. I don’t speak to them anymore… but last I heard, they all live in a condemned mansion with a bunch of their friends, not paying for a thing and dumpster diving for food. Is that what you do, Aidan? Dumpster dive for old, moldy turkey dinners? You do look pretty trailer trash, so it kind of makes sense. And then I think to myself… Wow… Aidan Carlisle is WORSE than pink eye. Not that I’ve had it… I’d guess you have, though. Someone that lives in gutters when she isn’t sleeping on her friends tick infested mattresses is BOUND to get pink eye. Your boyfriend also seems like the type to wipe his ass with your pillowcase and forget to tell you about it before falling asleep. Plus… there’s the ginger curse he has of having pink eye all the time. Redness everywhere forever. Firecrotch United.”
Rorie laughed out loud as she moved out of the bathroom, brushing against the cameraman. She walked to the front hallway again, turning back to the camera.
Rorie Steele: “Speaking of gingers, there is another person in this match. Firecrotch O’Shea. The man who’s paler than Psyche Devyne. I mean… of ALL the fucking people you could have chosen as a partner… you took HIM? I don’t know much about him… but the fact that he’s a ginger has already lost you the match. You can’t trust a ginger to actually do well in the ring. They lose from fucking birth. Plus… he’s dating YOU, Aidan. There’s another loss right there. That’s all I can even come up with about this jackass. Waste of fucking time to talk about him. The only semi real threat here was you. And now, it’s basically two against one. You really think you’re going to win this match, Aidan? You really think you’ll walk out of this building still a tag team champion? I don’t fucking think so. I AM better than you. Cyrus is DEFINITELY better than you. You talk yourself up like a badass, when really… you’re nothing. I lost to Bryan after coming back to wrestling after 4 fucking years. The Bayou had nobody of value to prepare me for what I’d be facing in 4CW. But if I had been given Bryan one more time, I GUARANTEE that he wouldn’t get the best of me a second time.”
She paused for a moment.
Rorie Steele: “Please… talk shit about me losing to Bronx. That piece of shit. But let’s think about it another way… Didn’t Cyrus lose too? Same round as me, wasn’t it? And then… as if by some completely RANDOM turn of events, we’ve been set to be taking those titles away. Well, Aidan… this wasn’t a last minute decision… I’ll tell you that much. Can’t really face you for those titles if I’m in a tournament, can I? Can Cyrus? Just let that sink in for a minute. Bronx beat me. Oh well. Too bad… But look at the BIGGER picture here, Aidan. Taking things away from you is something I REALLY enjoy doing. And it’s something I’ll even take time to plan.”
Rorie winked at the camera, a smirk playing across her face again. She moved to the front door, opening it up for the cameraman.
Rorie Steele: “Now… if you don’t mind… get the fuck out of my condo. I have a date tonight and you’re wasting my time. Plus you’re ugly and it’s killing my mood.”
Rorie grabbed the fabric of the cameraman’s shirt, pulling him out of her place. He turned around, still filming. Rorie kept her head poked out of the door, which she had started to close.
Rorie Steele: “And one last message for Aidan and Redbush… Get ready to fail. Because honestly, there’s nothing… BEYOND nothing… you can do to keep these titles. And once we have them, I’ll wait excitedly for the day I get to wave your ass out of 4CW. Like everything else I take from you… after this title… I’m taking away your home… 4CW.”
She winked once again, that sickly sinister look on her face once again. She slammed the door, leaving the cameraman out there alone. He filmed the door for a few seconds longer before the scene cut to black. |
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