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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 15:11 PMCopy HTML
The scene opens to Rorie in a rather fancy condo. One would normally think that this would be one of her exes places, but the photos on the wall told a different story. This condo belonged to Cyrus Riddle, judging by the photos of him or articles about him on the walls. That or an uber fan. But that would be weird. Rorie has on a maids outfit. Another lovely gift from Cyrus. She had gloves over her hands as she stood in the kitchen, cleaning the counters with a wet cloth. She looked disgusted for a second. She was doing fucking peasants work. Punishment for talking back, of course. It wasn’t like she could help it, really. She stopped for a moment, looking at the camera.
Rorie Steele: “Well hello there, 4CW fans. I’m Rorie, as you know. I’m just cleaning up… my kitchen… here…”
The cameraman clears his throat, panning over to a framed photo of Cyrus on a wall. The camera came back to Rorie, who made a face.
Rorie Steele: “Fuck.”
She rolled her eyes.
Rorie Steele: “Fine. I’m in Cyrus’ condo. Cleaning. Because I am being forced to. Here’s a little advice to you all. If you are being blackmailed and can help it, don’t talk back. You get given peasant work like this. It’s fucking bullshit. But it’s okay. I’m keeping my head up, guys. Head. Oh god my mind is in the gutter. I’m doing this… and we’re not going to talk about it anymore. Because I have more pressing matters to talk about. More… interesting matters…”
She paused for a moment, looking away into the other room for a moment. Her focus comes back to the camera as she smirks.
Rorie Steele: “My match at the next Adrenaline show…”
She shook her head as she went back to cleaning the counters.
Rorie Steele: “Now this is fucking priceless. I don’t think this could have been more perfectly executed. This whole tournament going on in 4CW… and who do I get thrown against in the first round? Darryl Wallace. Oh I’m sorry…. Darryl FUCKING Wallace… because he can’t come up with his own fucking names. Literally no imagination in that square head of his.”
She moves from the counters to the island. She holds onto the rag and looks down at a piece of paper. She reads something and then heads to the oven, opening it. She bends down, back to the camera, getting deep inside to clean.
Rorie Steele: “So where’s Darryl now? Let’s go ahead and give his E! True Hollywood story. Not in the sense that he’s famous, or anything. Why anyone would say he has talent is beyond me. When I first heard of Darryl, it was from a “friend”. None other than Bryan Williams little girlfriend Psyche. What she told me was that Darryl was this happy-go-lucky dude. He made jokes all the time and did funny shit. Really… she had to say that because he was Bryan’s pathetic brother. She was probably just being nice. Blegh.”
She stops cleaning and brings a hand up, feigning sticking her finger in her throat. Then goes back to cleaning inside the oven.
Rorie Steele: “All of a sudden, Darryl went crazy. His girlfriend left him or some shit and all he could do was cry and whine about it. Saying he didn’t care about her at all, but still talking shit about her and then wishing to have her back three seconds later. It was… classic bipolar attitude. So then… I got asked to, you know, help out. Basically she asked me to fuck him to take his mind off of things. I mean… I wasn’t going to turn down sex… Until I saw him. In a completely out of character for myself moment, I decided to be nice. Weird, right? Instead of telling him he was fucking disgusting and that I’d rather claw out my own eyes and eat them, I decided to nice him away from me.”
Rorie shakes her head, disappointed in herself.
Rorie Steele: “That’s correct. I though the best way to get him to leave me alone was to be semi nice to him. All of a sudden, he grew a fucking conscious and decided that he wanted his girlfriend back. Eye. Fucking. Roll. But inside, I was cheering. On the outside, of course, I played angry. How dare he turn me down and all that shit. To go back to that “Gucci” cunt? And what happened in the end? They fucking broke up again! And I laaaaaaaaughed…. and laughed… and laughed… Funniest shit I heard.”
She finishes the oven, now moving to the top of the stove. She begins to clean the top, working her arms back and forth.
Rorie Steele: “So then Darryl goes depressive. All sad, but also angry about the last breakup. Because that’s Darryl. Then he goes and makes up a new girlfriend. I’m still not convinced if this one is real. Is this even the same one now? Was it only this one? I don’t know… I don’t really care. She’s fake anyway.”
Rorie finishes the stove top and checks the paper again. She tosses the rag into the sink for the moment, planning to come back to it after. She grabs some Windex and paper towel. She walks into the next room, going to the window that overlooks the city below. She sprays the glass and begins to wipe it, her body moving up and down with each stroke of her hand.
Rorie Steele: “But then suddenly, the most recent Darryl moment is that he turns all emo. ‘My family hates me. I’m so sad. Woe is me. Why can’t I win? Why can’t I catch a break? I’m so good, but I can’t even beat my way out of a plastic bag. But I want to be a badass. Why won’t people take me serious? Fart joke. Why can’t I find love? Why won’t my daddy give me money to be a badass? Is he actually my real daddy? WHAT IF HE’S NOT MY DADDY?!’”
She was mocking his voice. Just being a general dick, really.
Rorie Steele: “Cry me a fucking river, Justin Timberlake. Grow a fucking pair. We all saw how you handled yourself against Cyrus Riddle. Trying to act hard. Killing puppies or some shit. Honestly… I never saw it. Just got told about your sad attempts at being more like Cyrus. Because that’s all that was. You were trying to be Cyrus to show you could beat him. And where did it get you? No where. You fucking lost because you’re a shit wrestler. Like… what do you think, Darryl? People just forget about how you used to be? People forget about the Darryl that would sit on twitter all day in his shitty spandex one piece and talk shit? Making dick jokes and trying to hit on girls? Nobody fucking forgets. That’s Darryl. The Darryl you’re trying to pretend to be now is just a cover. A way for you to try and be part of the in crowd. But here’s the thing, Darryl. You’ll never be part of the in crowd. You’ll always be that piece of shit everyone hates. The cool kids pretending to like you… but behind your back, they make fun of you. You’ll be like that shitty rapper Stitches that gets beat up by his “friends”. You think you’re in, but you’re just their little bitch boy. All you’ll ever be.”
She smirks as she looks at the window. She turns her head towards the camera for a moment.
Rorie Steele: “Pristine, eh?”
She winks and takes the bottle and paper towels with her. She then walks to the bathroom, stepping towards the shower. She sprays the walls and grabs paper towel, vigorously wiping at the walls to take off any dirtiness. Her breasts shake with every movement, which is obviously caught on camera.
Rorie Steele: “Now let me tell you a story about me, hm? I am the Rorie Fucking Steele. Always have been and always will be. I’m not new to wrestling. I’m not going to give you an easy match. From the beginning, I’ve been a force. Someone that would do exactly what she said she would. Someone who would do anything to do what she said. I’m the woman that others are scared to meet in the ring. The woman that married men are scared to meet alone. I get what I want eventually. There’s no doubt about that. And what I want is to beat you to a fucking bloody pulp.”
She turns to the camera and smiles.
Rorie Steele: “You can claim I’m a liar or whatever else you want. Bring up that I lost my first match against your brother Bryan. I did. I admit that. But things wouldn’t go your ways if you were as rusty as myself. If you had just come back from years of non-activity. Go to wrestling from practically being a house wife. Which I fucking resent, by the way. But like I said… I’ll get what I want eventually. I’ll take out that piece of shit Williams some day. My first match just wasn’t that time. So for now… why not take out the extreme bottom of the barrel Wallace? Why not take out the worst in the family? You. You want to cry about how people hate you? Prove your fucking self. But I don’t think it’ll be happening this week, sugar. Definitely not with me standing in your way. And In your way I am. Because I want this more than you. I deserve this more than you.”
She finishes the walls and moves to the shower head. She begins to work the head, cleaning the long metal shaft of it. She finally moves to the tip, cleaning off anything else that remained.
Rorie Steele: “Now you may come back at me with some bullshit about how I’m a bitch now and would do anything for Cyrus. And because of that, I’m not worthy to meet you in the ring. Like going off of what I’m doing right now. Anything you say against Cyrus literally means nothing. He’s beat you already. Harshly. I’m just here to do the same thing.”
She shrugs her shoulders, moving from the shower to the toilet. The most unfortunate part of this job. She sighed and grabbed a cleaning brush and started scrubbing the inside. She pumped her hands up and down like a pro, but her face told the true story. Disgust.
Rorie Steele: “Me doing his bidding doesn’t change anything about how I am in the ring. To be honest… it partially just fuels my need to want to break things. And since you’re the first person I get to meet with since this all went down, it means you get the privilege of being the thing I break.”
She smiles again at the camera, finishing her cleaning. She left the room, taking the cleaning supplies she had with her. She walked back to the kitchen, starting to put things away.
Rorie Steele: “I don’t do this shit because I want to. I do it because I [i]have[/i] to. Blackmail is a bitch. I don’t have a choice. But you have a choice, sugar. The choice to not be such a fucking pussy. Since that’s what you are. But unfortunately, you aren’t really taking the better road on that one. You’re just staying a pussy. Crying about your hardships and not being loved. You’re so fucking tragic, sugar, that it hurts my little black heart. Only because the thought of you in general hurts my entire being, really.”
She goes to the sink, washing her hands with a ton of soap and water. She went all the way up to her elbows, making sure she got every spot possible. She rinsed her arms, pressing her cleavage closer than it already was. The camera was in a perfect position to catch the view.
Rorie Steele: “I think we’ve covered all the bases of what you could possibly talk about in regards to me. Other than the obvious ‘You’re a slut, Rorie’ that usually happens. Honestly… if I hear those words uttered out of your shit-filled mouth, I will die laughing. Which would be the only way you’d actually win this match. Then again… you probably couldn’t even win the match if I was fucking dead.”
Rorie grabbed a fresh cloth, drying her hands with it. She turned to the camera fully again with her back against the counter. She put her hands behind her on the edges.
Rorie Steele: “I’ll see you soon, doll. Unless you die in a fire before the show. But I’m kind of rooting for that. I may try and film it.”
She smirked at the camera for a moment, loving the idea. After a moment, she brought her hand up, shooing the cameraman away. The feed faded to black after that. |
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