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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 15:21 PMCopy HTML
Rorie Steele Autograph Signing This Way! -----------> A sign is seen posted on a wall, an arrow pointing to the right. Not far in the distance a line has started to form. People are waiting in line to see Rorie Steele. Because they fucking can. The signing is being done in some hotel nearby, sponsored by some random company. Partially for her wrestling career and partially for her modelling. Because why the fuck not? As the camera moves closer up the line, we begin to see large cutouts of Rorie... mostly personal ones held by fans wanting them signed. A few looked... well used. Other items around are posters and assorted photos of Rorie. She is sitting at a large table with a black cloth over top. She had on a tight cut up black shirt with Pinhead on the front. On her legs were a pair of ripped up black jeans and spiky black heels on her feet. She was a lot more casually dressed than normal. Her hair was straight and left down on her shoulders. A large man is standing behind and to the left of her, more as crowd control. Rorie could clearly take care of herself.
At that very second, Rorie was signing an old W2K dvd with her on the front of it. Back when she looked more... tan. She signed it, a small frown on the one side of her mouth, as if displeased with the photo on the cover. She finished signing and slid the dvd back to the kid in front of her. He had a massive smile on his pimply face. She gave him an awkward wave as he swooned over her, slowly leaving. She turned to the bouncer dude, raising a brow. He just shook his head, staying in the same spot. The next person came up. A rather round young man with curly hair that looked like it was plastered against his head. He was sweating profusely, making hair stick to his forehead. She made another disgusted face, but tried to hide it. Not well, though. The guy slid a photo towards Rorie. Rorie was, of course, wearing nothing but a bikini in it. She put her fingers on the picture, sliding it closer to herself. She looked at the guy, speaking to him through slightly gritted teeth.
Rorie Steele: "Hey there, sugar. Who can I make this out to?"
The guy looked like he was about to faint.
Basement Dweller: "Oh my... God.... Oh my God... Uhh... Hey there. My na-name is Steve... Uhh... M-make it out to... S-steve!"
He stuttered all of his words, completely nervous. He couldn't believe it. Rorie looked at the photo and quickly signed it. She spelled 'Steve' as 'Stheev" in cursive because she thought it would be more humorous if he looked at it every day, unsure if she butchered his name or not. She slid the photo back to him, slightly smiling.
Rorie Steele: "Awesome. Thanks. Kaybye."
She looked around the guy to the next person, who was much more attractive. She wanted him to come now.
Basement Dweller: "WAIT!!"
He slammed his hands on the table, yelling towards her. Rorie looked unfazed, but her eyes left the pretty man behind the round one and looked at Steve. The security guy took a step forward, ready for what might happen. Rorie raised a brow.
Rorie Steele: "What?"
Basement Dweller: "Please... can I just ask a question?"
Rorie rolled her eyes and sighed.
Rorie Steele: "Fine. What..?"
Basement Dweller: "Okay... okay.. Uhhh... So you h-have your match ag-against Bronxy t-this week in 4CW. Ar-are you nervous? Do you have a p-plan?"
Rorie shook her head.
Rorie Steele: "Well for one... that's fucking two questions."
She leaned back in her chair, watching the guy.
Rorie Steele: "You really want to know the answers?"
The guy nodded, as did a few others in the crowd. She sighed and stood up from her chair.
Rorie Steele: "You all want me to talk about Bronxy? Ignore the fact that I'm signing autographs and all that shit for not much longer... but cut a fucking promo instead? That's what you want?"
The crowd all yelled yes in agreement. Rorie ran her fingers through her hair and turned her head to the security man. She snapped a finger and he stepped over to her. She put a hand on his shoulder and stepped up onto her chair and then up onto the table so that she could see the people in front of her. Not many were fun to look at, but she picked out a few good looking ones to keep an eye on. The security guy stayed behind her to make sure nothing happened, since she was in heels. She looked down at the guy that had asked her the questions.
Rorie Steele: "So you want to know about Bronxy, hm?"
He nodded as if his head was going to fall off of his body. So violent. She looked around the crowd.
Rorie Steele: "You all want to know my feelings towards that pathetic little worm Bronx. What was it you asked? Whether I'm nervous? Are you fucked, dude? Well clearly not... look at you."
She was looking back down at him, smirking. He was staring up at her, mesmerized. As if anything she said was glorious, even if making fun of him.
Rorie Steele: "Here's the thing, ladies and gents. Bronx is a fucking waste of a roster spot in 4CW. He's one of those guys that brings the company down. He loses constantly because he just can't catch a break against other people. He's just comic relief at this point. Makes sense that him and Darryl were brothers. The two worst people in this federation and they're related, you know? The guys that are just on the roster to make fun of. Losing over and over because they just... suck. Lucky for Bronx... he's had a few wins here and there in his pocket, but does that really prove anything good for him? Not really. Saying he has some kind of fucking track record? Of what… leaving? You think I don’t have a track record? I’ve held titles, sugar. Or do we all pretend things don’t happen if they don’t include us? So if that’s the case… you’ve got no record, since other places you’ve been mean nothing to me either. Like I said before... he's lost to a hillbilly retard multiple times. I'm honestly amazed by that."
She looked through the crowd, seeking out one individual. She sees the person in seconds. He's a gentleman with gnarly teeth. You can see them because his mouth doesn't full close and his front teeth hang over his bottom lip. His jaw is pushed back, giving him a crazy overbite. His skin is red and covered in freckles. He has on... and I shit you not... a fucking flannel shirt and overalls. Couldn't ask for a more perfect example. Rorie shoots her hand up, pointing directly at the guy.
Rorie Steele: "Like that gentleman there. I'm quite sure I've found another member of the Cashe family. Probably just as fucking dumb, too."
She smiles sweetly.
Rorie Steele: "What else did you want to know? If I have a 'p-p-p-plan'?"
She asked, mocking the guy.
Rorie Steele: "Of course I have a plan. It is literally to kick Bronxy's ass. Simple as that. Do I need any more of a plan? What else would I need to plan? Maybe bring scissors just incase his shitty hair actually can be used in the fight? Like if he can use it to tangle me up and hold me in a submission? Doubtful, though I'm sure some of you basement dwellers would find that awesome. Fucking weirdo's."
She shakes her head.
Rorie Steele: "Bronx is a fucking failure. In 4CW. In his love life. In his family life. In his alone time. All of that. Just like..."
She lifts her foot up a bit, placing her shoe against the forehead of the guy still standing in front of the table. She pushes his head back a bit.
Rorie Steele: "You."
The guy stumbles back, still kind of smiling at her. He was obviously excited that he could even have her touch him with her shoe. Rorie put her foot down, wiping the bottom on the table. She glared at the guy.
Rorie Steele: "Get the fuck away from my table."
She raised her eyes, looking back to the crowd as the guy scurried to the side of the crowd, still watching, but further away.
Rorie Steele: "Now since you all seem to be having fun... why not open up for a few more questions..."
They all start yelling, hoping she'll answer them. She points to a young lady near the middle of the crowd.
Rorie Steele: "You. Go."
The crowd went quiet, letting the lady speak.
Firecrotch McGee: "Yeah! Yeah... I had a question... Why are you so mean to everyone? Did something make you this way? Or someone?"
Rorie Steele: "No."
She ignored the rest of the question, looking around and pointing to someone else now.
Rorie Steele: "Go."
The person was a teenaged boy. He got a bit closer in the crowd, a huge smile on his face.
Emo Joe: "I'm like... one of your biggest fans."
Rorie Steele: "Super duper."
Emo Joe: "My question is also about Bronx. I heard he likes to leave places if he doesn't win anything. Is it true?"
Rorie Steele: "Well, sugar... I've actually heard the same thing. Kind of like he get's scared of everyone around him, so he feels he needs to leave because he's a fucking pussy that will never improve. He gives up. He knows he's a failure. He admits it. So when you fail that much, you gotta find a new place to fail in, I guess. I hear that fucking stupid Boardwalk place is hiring... Though they have a waiting list coming out of their asses. But I'm sure they'd let you bypass and just be a jobber. I hear there's a few guys in there that like young cock. That Buddy Royal dude seems the type. Maybe he can... train you. Alone. In a bed that's fashioned into a ring. He seems like a guy who would have that kind of bed..."
She laughed quietly to herself and looked around the room again. She picked a little girl near the front who was annoyingly jumping up and down to get Rorie's attention. She sighed, giving in, even though she hated children. She pointed at her.
Rorie Steele: "You... thing... speak."
The little girl squeals and waves a few other girls up. The girls, probably 15 or so, are all dressed in short dresses with makeup and weird young girl heels. Rorie made a face at them all. It was like a swarm of mini Rorie's, but terrifying.
Little Girl: "Oh em gee! Rorie! We're, like, your biggest fans!!!"
She yelled excitedly. Rorie clenched her teeth a few times as she stared down at them.
Little Girl: "We all wanted to know... What would you suggest to us to be exactly like you one day?"
Rorie raised a brow.
Rorie Steele: "Have your daddy walk out on you..."
She said it quietly, slightly smirking to herself. She bent down on the table, getting more to the height of the girls. She raised a hand, using her finger to call them closer. They started to come closer. Once they had moved up a few feet, Rorie held her hand out to tell them to stop. They all stood where they were, watching her.
Rorie Steele: “You want to be exactly like me? Well… first thing, show more skin. You’re all wearing too much fabric, even for 12 year olds.”
Little Girl: “We’re 15…”
Rorie Steele: “Well then… way too much fabric. Two... you need to get better at doing your makeup. Because you’re all fucking terrible at it. Three… swear a fuckload. It’s lady-like. Four. You need to have sex with as many guys as you can. Any guy that shows interest, bed him. Even if he doesn’t show interest. Fuck him. Because you can. Five… fake tits. They’re awesome.”
She smiled. After a few seconds, though, her smile faded.
Rorie Steele: “And six… Don’t fucking try and be like me. Are you all fucking stupid? I’m not a role model. Go outside and fucking play. Stop wasting your childhood trying to be older. Plus… you’ll never be like me if you tried. Because I’m better than you. And always will be. Like I’m better than Bronx. But in a different way, since he’s kind of a guy. Kind of.”
Rorie shooed the girls away.
Rorie Steele: “Now fuck off. Go shopping for young people clothes, you little skanks.”
She stood up again on the table, looking at the crowd again.
Rorie Steele: “Alright… one last question. You. Go.”
She pointed to a super attractive man that was quite a bit taller than most other people around him. Rorie eyed him, a smirk paying absently across her face.
Sexypants: “Yeah... I’ve got a question… What will you do after winning this tournament? Are you looking forward to the outcome?”
Rorie Steele: “Well, sugar… after I kick that piece of shit Bronx’s ass, I’ll move on. At that point, I’ll go up against the next person and soon hit the last spot. I foresee it as being a really easy journey. Very linear and without many issues. This won’t be like some Wizard of Oz shit where I stray off the path of the yellow brick road and get into trouble. No… I’ll stay on my path to victory. And when I finally get to the end, I will shove it in all of their faces. I will laugh at them all from the top. And then I will go on to meet whoever it is with whatever title it is and beat the shit out of them too. I don’t remember the title name. It’s been a long night. But whatever. That title will find its home around my waste and I will point and laugh at all the little people in this company. Fuck all of you. I am the shining star of 4CW. I am the one you’ll all have to look out for.”
Rorie pauses for a moment.
Rorie Steele: “But let’s start with this week. Bronx… honestly all of his promos make me want to kill myself. He rambles on and on about himself and tries to talk himself up. But then says he’s shit. It’s like he is constantly contradicting himself. Does he really think that will make people take him seriously? He can’t even make up his own mind about himself… how does he expect others to back him up? No wonder Perry is continually disappointed in his family. They’re all fucking dimwits. And nobody wants to see a dimwit with gold. There’s already been a few already… but all of them are better than this cock gobbler Bronx. He has nothing on me. Just calling me a slut… just like everyone else. That material is fucking old, doll. The more you use it… after saying you weren’t going to, I might add… the more desperate it sounds. Everyone is aware of it. It’s not news. But to me, it fuels me. Gives me a wicked edge, you know? It’s like you’re feeding me with something I already know. You’re kind of bored of it, but you’re still hungry. And… oh my… am I fucking starving. Starving for a win. I’m like a shark, smelling blood in the water. Bronx is bait for me… and you know what a shark does with bait? Tears it into fucking pieces. Get ready to be torn apart, Bronxy.”
Rorie smirks at the crowd. They all cheer for her, clapping. She shrugs.
Rorie Steele: “And that… ladies and gents… is how you cut a fucking promo.”
She turns around, getting down off the table with the help of the security guy. She sits back down on her chair. She waves over the next person, who now happens to be the guy who asked the last question. She leans on her hand, staring up at him.
Rorie Steele: “Hey there.”
The guy smiles at her and pushes a photo of her forward. Rorie signs it absently, still looking at him. He looks at the photo.
Sexypants: “Aren’t you going to ask my name?”
Rorie smirks.
Rorie Steele: “I’ll just forget it. All that matters is that you know mine… because you’ll be yelling it later.”
Her smirk stayed. The guy smirked back at her. She pointed behind her and handed him the photo back.
Rorie Steele: “Wait for me back there. I’ll be done this bullshit in 15.”
He nodded and went where she told him to go. She continued signing a few more autographs as the scene faded out. |
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