Post by Aubrey J. Parker on Oct 22, 2011 12:19:53 GMT -5
We blink into a bright scene-- literally, as the lights seem to be pumping light into the room at an excruciating level. Aubrey J. Parker is seated, cross-legged on a bed. Her legs are bare as far as the eye can see, from her feet to her hips, with the rest of her body covered by a long, but form-fitting black tee which simply reads "AJP or DIE" in an elegant, cursive font. Parker lacks makeup from what we can tell, made evident by several small features including the small amount of freckles on her cheek, coupled with the fact that her eyes are less grabbing from a distance without the signature cosmetic application of one Aubrey Parker.
The wall is a bright white color and simply reflects the light, and the comforter beneath the former World Women's Champion is a mixture of periwinkle and silver. Parker's eyes, though unfocused at the moment, are thoughtful. They travel along something out of frame and Parker sits with a faint smile on her unparted lips.
We pan forward with several hard, cold jumps. It is when we can only see Parker from the sternum-upward that she seems to snap to attention. Her gaze settles on the camera and she speaks, in a tone that is quieter yet harsher than her typical voice.
"I understand that I haven't yet earned the right for my name to be mentioned alongside the likes of Robin Mayfair and Aurora Matthews. I have to do a lot more scratching, clawing, climbing, jumping before I get that level of respect around here. I understand that I have to bend over backwards to get any sort of recognition from the girls in the locker room, really, I get it... But when in the hell did I give anybody the impression that I was Kyle Travis?"
Parker narrows her eyes at the camera-- or rather at the person that is intended to be looking back at her through it, Tee Voland. She clears her throat and addresses her.
"I listened to what you had to say, Tracie, and I had a hard time understanding the relevance of it. I felt that if I sat here and tried to battle your argument, point for point, my brain would explode along with the rest of the audience watching. So, for the sake of the rest of you watching, I'm gonna use this puppet to represent our friend Tracie for a little while..."
At this point, Parker leans out of frame slightly, reaching for something just out of view and returns with a small black-and-green-dressed, tubby plush figure, also known as "Buttercup" from the Powerpuff Girls.
"Tracie Voland, why did you feel the need to compare our one-on-one match to a tag team match involving Mike and Brian? A forgettable one, at that. But that's not the point..."
Parker clears her throat, using a much higher-pitched, obnoxious tone to imitate the voice of Tracie Voland-- or otherwise, Buttercup.
"Whaddya mean 'forgettable'--"
"There you go again, talking about things that have no importance to our match this Sunday. But I'll entertain this for a few seconds and I will go back and explain why the Church of Anarchy is doing backstrokes in the pond of mediocrity. Reason one-- you guys never wrestle. Specifically you. Sometimes the argument is that you aren't booked, which probably reflects a lack of faith or ideas by the company. Sometimes the argument is that you're lazy which is the reason said company would have no faith in you or ideas for you. Honestly, a lot of those fans hate me and I think a lot of them are disgusting, greasy, smelly pigs, but when they're essentially responsible for paying my bills, the last thing I'm going to do is get lazy, and then admit it to them.
"Maybe you have another job on the side, or you have enough money put away for yourself to just slack off and not give a damn about your little role in ACW. But I've become quite accustomed to living lucratively and I can't really afford to throw that away by half-assing it in the ring and embarrassing myself out of a job. And don't you dare say you weren't half-assing it because we all saw your performance in that five-woman match last month, and we all heard your silence before it. I can't do that. ACW is my one and only job. Wrestling is my one and only career. If I lose passion, I'm going to step away-- I'm not gonna stick around for fifteen more minutes of fame. That's a good way to embarrass yourself and taint your legacy.
"And that's another thing we'll get into. Outside of the name 'Church of Anarchy' what the hell have any of you done to be considered anything short of mediocre lately? Leave Kyle Travis in a three-on-one predicament on Shockwave and brag about it? You guys could be huge right now. You could be literally running the company-- dominant. Not just you, Tee, all of you. But instead, you're all lazy. They caused you to be lazy. The only one of you that's done anything of note wrestling-related lately is our United States Champion who honestly hasn't had to defend it all that much.
"But to single you out, Tracie...? You certainly have never done shit. And the biggest names in your group right now are Xavier and Lola. What I did to Lola two weeks ago, by the way, was most definitely a message to you. And to any and every other woman that stands between me and the World Women's Championship."
The camera focuses solely on the Buttercup plush figure again as Parker speaks in the mocking voice.
"Nah, -ACW forced Censored- that! I'm gonna beat you this week and I'm gonna go on to prove that I'm the next Women's Champion!"
Parker laughs and looks, amused, at the figure that is intended to represent Tracie Voland.
"Let's be real, Buttercup; the casual wrestling fan has no idea who you are as an individual. And if they do, it's not an 'Amazon Warrior', it's not the 'Queen', it's not a 'former Women's Champion', and you're not even bad enough to be a joke. You are now, and forever, Michael Voland's little sister. So to even think that you're within consideration of competing for the Women's Title is--"
Parker puts a finger over her lips, pouting a bit and feigning embarrassment.
"Oh. Whoops. You don't. Because never once did you mention going after the Women's Championship, or even establishing yourself at the top of the division. Instead, you were more interested in running down the people that I've managed in the past, or the person I'm managing now.
"You were more interested in the endeavors of Mike and Brian, right? Because they're the only people in your group that really seem to matter to you. It's not like you have any issues of your own in ACW to deal with. The idea of you branching out on your own and going after the World Women's Title has never even been brought up in discussion, has it? It's not the Tracie Voland show. And it's never going to be. Because you're lazy.
"And I'm going to tear you apart."
We focus on the Buttercup figure again, who is now standing on Parker's knee, manipulated by her decorated fingers and petite hands. The Buttercup doll does a hip-twisting motion, in a mockingly seductive manner, at Parker's will, and the obnoxious voice returns.
"Tear me apart? Have you seen me? Do you know who my family is? I lived above the Shark Tank! I'm the motherf--"
Parker slaps a hand over Buttercup's mouth and shakes her head.
"I've seen bigger. And I've beaten stronger. You have this idea that you were trained by the best, and I have this idea that I am the best. You've never done anything to prove or even imply that you're anywhere near that level, as far as I know. I don't hear your name used as an example to define greatness around here; I hear it in passing.
"I was really disappointed when I watched you this week and saw that your whole shtick about pole-dancing didn't go anywhere important. Your point was lost somewhere during your rambling between boobs and Kyle Travis' penis size. So I'm gonna give you a little treat, Tracie. As much as I would love to magically produce a stripper pole and prove to you that I am a better dancer than you on top of being a better overall athlete... I'm not gonna bite your idea. I have no need to embarrass you today when I can just do it tomorrow by backing up my words.
"What I will do is make sense of what you were trying to say earlier. You're right about what it takes to attract certain men or command the attention of a crowd-- it isn't the way you look, but the way you present yourself. You have the initial stage appeal that would draw in a lot of spectators... You're bigger than me. You're stronger than me. You have the last name that sells tickets in this company. But you were wrong about my lack of skill or talent. If you knew anything about the women's division you'd know that I am one of the best at what I do. People like you sell a few quick tickets, but people like me establish longtime fans. They stick around for people like me."
Parker squeezes the Blossom plush figure and glares at the figure that seems to be glaring back at her through eyes made of plastic. Parker pulls the doll away from herself and scoffs.
"You say that you were hanging around at a strip club because you wanted to refresh yourself on how 'women like me' think. I'm going to go ahead and say... A lot of suspension of disbelief and a lot of grasping at straws was required to make that connection. But eventually, I guess I can see where you were coming from. You think I'm fake-- you think I'm a cheap broad in an expensive place. You think I'm untalented, plastic, blah blah blah, the list goes on, but something that tied it all together was when you brought my strength into it. While a true dancer is somebody that can entrance or hypnotize the feeble-minded man, you see me as a weak woman. Because of how I allowed myself to be treated by Harrison and Smith in the past."
"Yeah! Go ahead and explain that! If that's not weak, I don't know what it is!"
Parker laughs to herself and sighs.
"Wow, not like I haven't heard that before. You, just like many people in the past, sure were quick to bring up something that happened to be before I was even a wrestler. You're damn right my self-esteem was low. I didn't have the means to defend myself. I literally didn't belong in the wrestling ring so when men that knew infinitely more about the business were verbally attacking and abusing me on a daily basis, yes, I got a little shook up. And did I sit back and hide in the corner so skanks like you could prance along and insult me for it?
"Hell no. I became a wrestler and I shut the mouths of almost every non-believer out there. Apparently you're one of the remaining few. So this week, I'm taking you down next. And here's how...
"I don't have to be naked to capture the attention of the fans, obviously. I don't have to 'seduce' anybody or 'lure' anybody in. People watch me because they feel compelled to. I don't have a 'method' for getting men, women, or anyone else to take notice-- I do it through actions. I just do it. Typically at the expense of others. While I am hands-down the most naturally gorgeous girl on the roster, I've never had to exploit myself to get to the top. I've done it with skill and charisma. Something you lack, Tracie.
"So I'm glad you got your workout and I'm glad you boosted your self-esteem before our match this week, but it's not going to be enough. Quite honestly, all of that is just gonna be undone with the Makeunder. It's a move that's taken out more impressive women than you for days-- sometimes even weeks at a time. It doesn't pop up every single night, but when it does, it's deadly. Deadly effective. Deadly accurate.
"Mull it over, Tee. Hell, as you said to an opponent in the past, go ahead and indulge yourself in your delusions of superiority for another day and a half... But come at me correctly next time you decide to address me. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a match to prepare for. And that sucks for you. Fly away now."
Parker throws the Buttercup doll at the camera. The doll smashes into the lens and we swing out of focus before blinking out to a plain white screen.
The wall is a bright white color and simply reflects the light, and the comforter beneath the former World Women's Champion is a mixture of periwinkle and silver. Parker's eyes, though unfocused at the moment, are thoughtful. They travel along something out of frame and Parker sits with a faint smile on her unparted lips.
We pan forward with several hard, cold jumps. It is when we can only see Parker from the sternum-upward that she seems to snap to attention. Her gaze settles on the camera and she speaks, in a tone that is quieter yet harsher than her typical voice.
"I understand that I haven't yet earned the right for my name to be mentioned alongside the likes of Robin Mayfair and Aurora Matthews. I have to do a lot more scratching, clawing, climbing, jumping before I get that level of respect around here. I understand that I have to bend over backwards to get any sort of recognition from the girls in the locker room, really, I get it... But when in the hell did I give anybody the impression that I was Kyle Travis?"
Parker narrows her eyes at the camera-- or rather at the person that is intended to be looking back at her through it, Tee Voland. She clears her throat and addresses her.
"I listened to what you had to say, Tracie, and I had a hard time understanding the relevance of it. I felt that if I sat here and tried to battle your argument, point for point, my brain would explode along with the rest of the audience watching. So, for the sake of the rest of you watching, I'm gonna use this puppet to represent our friend Tracie for a little while..."
At this point, Parker leans out of frame slightly, reaching for something just out of view and returns with a small black-and-green-dressed, tubby plush figure, also known as "Buttercup" from the Powerpuff Girls.
"Tracie Voland, why did you feel the need to compare our one-on-one match to a tag team match involving Mike and Brian? A forgettable one, at that. But that's not the point..."
Parker clears her throat, using a much higher-pitched, obnoxious tone to imitate the voice of Tracie Voland-- or otherwise, Buttercup.
"Whaddya mean 'forgettable'--"
"There you go again, talking about things that have no importance to our match this Sunday. But I'll entertain this for a few seconds and I will go back and explain why the Church of Anarchy is doing backstrokes in the pond of mediocrity. Reason one-- you guys never wrestle. Specifically you. Sometimes the argument is that you aren't booked, which probably reflects a lack of faith or ideas by the company. Sometimes the argument is that you're lazy which is the reason said company would have no faith in you or ideas for you. Honestly, a lot of those fans hate me and I think a lot of them are disgusting, greasy, smelly pigs, but when they're essentially responsible for paying my bills, the last thing I'm going to do is get lazy, and then admit it to them.
"Maybe you have another job on the side, or you have enough money put away for yourself to just slack off and not give a damn about your little role in ACW. But I've become quite accustomed to living lucratively and I can't really afford to throw that away by half-assing it in the ring and embarrassing myself out of a job. And don't you dare say you weren't half-assing it because we all saw your performance in that five-woman match last month, and we all heard your silence before it. I can't do that. ACW is my one and only job. Wrestling is my one and only career. If I lose passion, I'm going to step away-- I'm not gonna stick around for fifteen more minutes of fame. That's a good way to embarrass yourself and taint your legacy.
"And that's another thing we'll get into. Outside of the name 'Church of Anarchy' what the hell have any of you done to be considered anything short of mediocre lately? Leave Kyle Travis in a three-on-one predicament on Shockwave and brag about it? You guys could be huge right now. You could be literally running the company-- dominant. Not just you, Tee, all of you. But instead, you're all lazy. They caused you to be lazy. The only one of you that's done anything of note wrestling-related lately is our United States Champion who honestly hasn't had to defend it all that much.
"But to single you out, Tracie...? You certainly have never done shit. And the biggest names in your group right now are Xavier and Lola. What I did to Lola two weeks ago, by the way, was most definitely a message to you. And to any and every other woman that stands between me and the World Women's Championship."
The camera focuses solely on the Buttercup plush figure again as Parker speaks in the mocking voice.
"Nah, -ACW forced Censored- that! I'm gonna beat you this week and I'm gonna go on to prove that I'm the next Women's Champion!"
Parker laughs and looks, amused, at the figure that is intended to represent Tracie Voland.
"Let's be real, Buttercup; the casual wrestling fan has no idea who you are as an individual. And if they do, it's not an 'Amazon Warrior', it's not the 'Queen', it's not a 'former Women's Champion', and you're not even bad enough to be a joke. You are now, and forever, Michael Voland's little sister. So to even think that you're within consideration of competing for the Women's Title is--"
Parker puts a finger over her lips, pouting a bit and feigning embarrassment.
"Oh. Whoops. You don't. Because never once did you mention going after the Women's Championship, or even establishing yourself at the top of the division. Instead, you were more interested in running down the people that I've managed in the past, or the person I'm managing now.
"You were more interested in the endeavors of Mike and Brian, right? Because they're the only people in your group that really seem to matter to you. It's not like you have any issues of your own in ACW to deal with. The idea of you branching out on your own and going after the World Women's Title has never even been brought up in discussion, has it? It's not the Tracie Voland show. And it's never going to be. Because you're lazy.
"And I'm going to tear you apart."
We focus on the Buttercup figure again, who is now standing on Parker's knee, manipulated by her decorated fingers and petite hands. The Buttercup doll does a hip-twisting motion, in a mockingly seductive manner, at Parker's will, and the obnoxious voice returns.
"Tear me apart? Have you seen me? Do you know who my family is? I lived above the Shark Tank! I'm the motherf--"
Parker slaps a hand over Buttercup's mouth and shakes her head.
"I've seen bigger. And I've beaten stronger. You have this idea that you were trained by the best, and I have this idea that I am the best. You've never done anything to prove or even imply that you're anywhere near that level, as far as I know. I don't hear your name used as an example to define greatness around here; I hear it in passing.
"I was really disappointed when I watched you this week and saw that your whole shtick about pole-dancing didn't go anywhere important. Your point was lost somewhere during your rambling between boobs and Kyle Travis' penis size. So I'm gonna give you a little treat, Tracie. As much as I would love to magically produce a stripper pole and prove to you that I am a better dancer than you on top of being a better overall athlete... I'm not gonna bite your idea. I have no need to embarrass you today when I can just do it tomorrow by backing up my words.
"What I will do is make sense of what you were trying to say earlier. You're right about what it takes to attract certain men or command the attention of a crowd-- it isn't the way you look, but the way you present yourself. You have the initial stage appeal that would draw in a lot of spectators... You're bigger than me. You're stronger than me. You have the last name that sells tickets in this company. But you were wrong about my lack of skill or talent. If you knew anything about the women's division you'd know that I am one of the best at what I do. People like you sell a few quick tickets, but people like me establish longtime fans. They stick around for people like me."
Parker squeezes the Blossom plush figure and glares at the figure that seems to be glaring back at her through eyes made of plastic. Parker pulls the doll away from herself and scoffs.
"You say that you were hanging around at a strip club because you wanted to refresh yourself on how 'women like me' think. I'm going to go ahead and say... A lot of suspension of disbelief and a lot of grasping at straws was required to make that connection. But eventually, I guess I can see where you were coming from. You think I'm fake-- you think I'm a cheap broad in an expensive place. You think I'm untalented, plastic, blah blah blah, the list goes on, but something that tied it all together was when you brought my strength into it. While a true dancer is somebody that can entrance or hypnotize the feeble-minded man, you see me as a weak woman. Because of how I allowed myself to be treated by Harrison and Smith in the past."
"Yeah! Go ahead and explain that! If that's not weak, I don't know what it is!"
Parker laughs to herself and sighs.
"Wow, not like I haven't heard that before. You, just like many people in the past, sure were quick to bring up something that happened to be before I was even a wrestler. You're damn right my self-esteem was low. I didn't have the means to defend myself. I literally didn't belong in the wrestling ring so when men that knew infinitely more about the business were verbally attacking and abusing me on a daily basis, yes, I got a little shook up. And did I sit back and hide in the corner so skanks like you could prance along and insult me for it?
"Hell no. I became a wrestler and I shut the mouths of almost every non-believer out there. Apparently you're one of the remaining few. So this week, I'm taking you down next. And here's how...
"I don't have to be naked to capture the attention of the fans, obviously. I don't have to 'seduce' anybody or 'lure' anybody in. People watch me because they feel compelled to. I don't have a 'method' for getting men, women, or anyone else to take notice-- I do it through actions. I just do it. Typically at the expense of others. While I am hands-down the most naturally gorgeous girl on the roster, I've never had to exploit myself to get to the top. I've done it with skill and charisma. Something you lack, Tracie.
"So I'm glad you got your workout and I'm glad you boosted your self-esteem before our match this week, but it's not going to be enough. Quite honestly, all of that is just gonna be undone with the Makeunder. It's a move that's taken out more impressive women than you for days-- sometimes even weeks at a time. It doesn't pop up every single night, but when it does, it's deadly. Deadly effective. Deadly accurate.
"Mull it over, Tee. Hell, as you said to an opponent in the past, go ahead and indulge yourself in your delusions of superiority for another day and a half... But come at me correctly next time you decide to address me. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a match to prepare for. And that sucks for you. Fly away now."
Parker throws the Buttercup doll at the camera. The doll smashes into the lens and we swing out of focus before blinking out to a plain white screen.