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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 16:23 PMCopy HTML
It’s been a while since we’ve seen the inside of Rorie’s fancy limousine. Mostly because there were other things that she was doing in her life for a while. Cleaning houses and being a slave, before that bullshit ended. But now, Rorie was back to her normal every day life. She placed a manicured hand on the leather seat beside her, absently running her hand along the fabric. She brought both hands up for a second, grabbing the fabric of her low cut black dress at the chest and adjusted it.
Across from her sat her camera man, who had been off doing his own thing for a while, to Rorie’s annoyance. He watched her actions, practically drooling as he watched her chest bounce slightly with the movements. Rorie ignored him and looked out the window. She ran a hand through her loosely curled hair. She looked over at the camera guy for a moment, raising a brow.
Rorie: “What the fuck are you looking at, Vance?”
‘Vance’: “It’s-“
Rorie sighed. As if he had forgotten everything he learned while in the presence of Rorie, he was still going to try to correct her. As if she fucking cared.
Rorie: “Look… I know you’ve had some time off for a while… but that’s no excuse to forget my fucking rules. I don’t… fucking… care. Got it?”
‘Vance’ nodded as he stared at her.
Rorie: “You continue with this fucking bullshit, and I WILL kick your ass out of the fucking car and have my driver run you over multiple times. Does that work for you?”
Vance: “Uhh… yea.”
Rorie: “Great. Now you remember what we’re doing today, right?”
‘Vance’: “Yes. I do. Film you.”
Rorie: “That’s right, Steve… Film. And does that require you to speak?”
‘Steve’ shook his head and started to get his camera set up and ready for what was planned.
Rorie: “Oh look. We’re here.”
The limo had stopped. The driver came around the side, opening the door for Rorie. She stepped out and began to walk towards the building they stopped in front of. It looked to be a warehouse. She walked towards the metal door to her left, her heels clicking against the concrete below her. ‘Steve’ came up behind her, camera finally on and focused on her back. She swung the door open, revealing an almost empty area. In the center, however, were quite a few tables set up with random scraps and mechanical pieces, as if someone was building something. Two men stood up, looking towards Rorie, who clearly distracted them from whatever they were doing. Rorie smirked, walking towards them.
Rorie: “Gentlemen.”
The one to the left nodded once. His shaggy blonde hair fell into his eyes for a moment. He pushed his hair back and looked back at his work for a moment. The other man, with short dark hair, moved a few steps towards Rorie. A name was written on the left side of his black coat. It read ‘Karkaroff’.
Karkaroff: “Ah… Miss Steele. So happy you have joined us.”
The man had a heavy Russian accent, but his English was quite good. The other man remained quiet. Likely not able to speak much English. Rorie nodded at Karkaroff, looking at… whatever was sprawled over the tables. He noticed this, looking to get her attention.
Karkaroff: “Shall I show you what we’ve been working on? It is very interesting.”
Rorie shook her head, looking over to the blonde man, who was back to working on something.
Rorie: “No, actually. THAT, I’d rather not have visual evidence of…”
She turned her head towards the camera. Karkaroff looked as well, nodded in acknowledgment.
Karkaroff: “Yes I understand. Of course.”
Rorie: “However, I was hoping you’ve have a sample of the… Fuck I can’t remember what it was. The-“
Karkaroff: “Ah yes… “Fioletovyy Smert'”. I happen to have some left over from a previous employment. I’ll get it now.”
Rorie smiled and turned towards the camera. She starts to walk towards another area in the warehouse. A small office area in the far corner.
Rorie: “Sven, I’ll just be in the office for a moment, sugar. I’ll be back.”
Karkaroff waved her off as he continued looking for the item she had asked for. Rorie walked into the room, a desk and chair set up in the center. Schematics for random mechanical items littered the walls and desk. Rorie sat on the chair behind the desk, making herself comfortable. She leans back, looking at the camera once again.
Rorie: “You know it’s funny… I keep getting thrown into these stupid little matches that don’t even make sense. First it was that one against the other female “competitors” around here. Was that supposed to be a fucking challenge? Because it was a waste of my fucking time. We all knew I’d come out on top. But then… some fucking cockhead decides to pop me into a team with Omerta to go up against those Unstable clowns. Really? Did you guys even think this shit through? Was everyone literally on crack the day the card was made? Because fucking Jesus.”
Rorie rolls her eyes.
Rorie: “Yes… I lost the tag titles I shared with Cyrus during the PPV. Boo hoo! I was so upset…”
Rorie’s face remained straight; the only thing that moved was her eyebrow, which rose sarcastically.
Rorie: “What did I fucking tell everyone basically the first day I got here? I don’t play well with others. I’m sure it’s even written on a resume somewhere that someone else wrote for me. But what happens? I get tossed into some tag team bullshit that I, really, wanted no part in. The only enticing part of it was taking gold away from the dog and her bitch boys. I did what I needed. People really expected me to keep playing house with Cyrus? No fucking thank you. But look who dropped the ball there anyways. I’ll say it once… it wasn’t me.”
Rorie rolled her eyes and leaned forward onto the desk.
Rorie: “I’m not trashing Cyrus….Oh wait… I am. Erron and Dakota are probably fucking whining to each other right now, wishing Cyrus were taking part in this match with them. Hoping he’ll come and save the fucking day if things go sour. Sorry to burst your bubbles, but he’s basically on a honeymoon that might last forever. And he’s not even married yet. He doesn’t care about you. Seems that way, doesn’t it? But in all honesty… I’d rather you guys had Cyrus on your little team here. Then I wouldn’t have to be associated with you fucking cunts. But since he’s off in la-la-land, you’re stuck with me. The difference between myself and Cyrus, though, is that I actually DO pull my weight. Funny, isn’t it?”
Rorie laughed quietly.
Rorie: “But I’m not here to really rag on my teammates or the people they circle-jerk with on weekends. We’re in this together, boys, whether you like it or not. And lucky for you two, I’m here to fucking win. I will put aside my feelings towards you and actually play ‘house’ for the night. Because I do, interestingly, enjoy winning. Plus… I’ve fucked one of you on a few occasions, so I’d rather that not have all gone to waste, you know?”
A small smile fell across her lips. She stood up, walking around to the front of the desk.
Rorie: “So since this match is up against Unstable, who I probably hate MORE than Omerta, I guess I should get into them now. We’ll just pretend I didn’t say the rapist and the psycho on my team are cunts or anything. Instead, let’s pretend I said that about Unstable, hm? I mean… take Chris Madison for example. The Invincible Chris. A winning record that is almost too unbelievable for the cesspool of each new venue. The lowest IQ’s and below average looks. I’m sure even a few of them question some stuff. But that’s besides the point. Nobody is fucking invincible, sugar. Definitely not you. Some day soon, you’ll be knocked on your ass and brought back down to earth. Chris Madison will fall from 4CW grace and no longer be our Pride Champion. And then, thankfully, you won’t be the face of 4CW. Nobody will care anymore. You’ll just be average once again. I mean… what do you even do in Unstable? Are you just a mascot for them? The guy they keep around just because you’re hard to beat? Do you even speak outside of your promos? Maybe I’m just not paying attention. I tend to not care when ‘Team Special’ comes on TV. Also… thanks a fucking lot for making us all endure that awful video of you using a fucking shake weight like it is practice for your new job. It’s embarrassing. But at least we know you’ll have a great job in gay porn when your 4CW flame fizzles out soon.”
Another smile crept onto her face. She leaned back against the desk, arms out behind her.
Rorie: “And then there is CJ O’Donnell. The one member of this little team Who hasn’t held 4CW gold. That’s pretty sad, doll. How does it feel to be the only one on your side who hasn’t had gold in 4CW? That’s pretty pathetic. You even tried to win one with Cyrus on your side before he backstabbed all your dumb asses. And you just couldn’t pull it off. Poor thing. Well hey… At least you can be part of a little team and pretend like you have some kind of worth within it. Actually wait… you can’t even pretend. Because you clearly don’t have any worth. You just constantly open the big mouth of yours and dig Cuntstable further into obscurity and hatred. Because, really, the way things are going, Unstable might begin to crack apart at the seams. Maybe Superstar Maddie will break away first once he realizes he would rather rear a few dudes on TV than just wrestle them. And look at your team in other companies… Since when did Unstable mean ‘Charity Case’? Taking in strays and turning into the good guys. Way to keep your image, guys. Really good job.”
She winked at the camera.
Rorie: “And the very last Unstable member… Jason Cashe. The most pathetic of them all. First question… are your parents siblings? Because you look like mommy fucked Uncle Brother in the barn. I’m sure you heard that before… I just really wanted to say it myself. Here we have Jason Cashe. He is legitimately the saddest human on the planet. Not in the depressive way… but for who he is as a human. I mean… the guy basically stalks a chick until the moment she breaks up with her crap boyfriend. Finding out shit about her that only a stalker could find. Actually finding out where she was for a trip and showing up unannounced. Wow. That’s disturbing, to say the least. Next you’ll take her to a cabin, chloroform her, and keep her locked up in the cellar so you can ‘look at her pretty hair’ and ‘sniff it’. Jesus fucking Christ, Cashe. Do you have no pride at all? Oh wait… Madison has that title. I forgot. My bad. No, no. You’re the XTV Champion. What the fuck does that even mean? That you’re good at bleeding? Oh… so you’re a pussy? Got it.”
Rorie smirked, jumping up to sit on the desk now. She tilted her head to the side a bit.
Rorie: “But I do applaud you, Cashe. You got the girl. I’m clapping for you in my brain right now. Because that’s all you deserve, really. I mean… all you had to do was stalk her and get plastic surgery… but congrats! She DEFINITELY doesn’t want you only for your looks…”
She smiled sweetly, clearly being sarcastic.
Rorie: “Honestly… the three of you are just a waste of time for myself. And I’ll even say for my partners in this match. Because the moment we take you apart, you’ll realize that Cuntstable isn’t as good as you hoped. You’ll have been beaten by two thirds of a team and an outsider that is surely overlooked. I get it, boys. I’m the lady. And I’m clearly only good for making sandwiches and sucking dick. The latter may be extremely true… but it’s not my only talent. I get shit done. I do what I’m meant to. I’m here to fucking win. So the fact that all three of you are probably already overlooking that is going to be your downfall. I’m not a pushover. I’m not a fucking woman who can’t hold her own. I’m not Cashe’s girlfriend who can’t go one day without latching onto a man to get her through ‘life’s hard times’. But you three are easy to read. Our Pride Champion, Achilles. His weakness will surely soon be found. Our XTV Champion, Carrie. Bloody and angry. Eventually the ‘house’ around you will fall and you’ll be buried to death. And our non-champion, Donkey. Maybe in our fairytale kingdom of Far Far Away, you’ll have your throat slit and be used for food so we can avoid hearing your loud-mouth remarks ever again. Wouldn’t that be something?”
Rorie stood up again, walking closer to the camera.
Rorie: “If it was my choice, I’d just tell you all to go fuck yourselves and let you all have your pissing contest in the center of the ring. But seeing as that is against the rules, we’ll just wait for the moment when I start beating the shit out of one of you and you realize that you were all wrong. Not about Omerta… but about Rorie Steele.”
She pauses.
Rorie: “But then again… Go fuck yourselves.”
She smirks. Just as Jacob the camera guy is about to turn off the camera, Karkaroff opens the door, peeking in.
Karkaroff: “Miss Steele. I found what I was looking for. Should we bring it to your car before we show you what we’ve done so far?”
Rorie turned her head to him, nodding slightly.
Rorie: “Fantastic idea.”
Rorie moves out of camera view, heading into the warehouse again. The camera quickly fades to black. |
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