Rebecca Case vs. Misery

By. Tainted Angel

"Is this thing working? I can’t hear a thing!"

"Nope, I can’t hear you either."

" No matter, I won’t be here for too much longer."

"Oh really? And just, where are you going to be? We’re only setting up for the third match Garry. We’ve got a full line up ahead of us."

" I, Gentleman Garry Grimmoire have a date."

So much for etiquette. So much for the polite rules of commentary banter. Sandra fell out of her routine and spilled her laughter soundly over the airwaves; unable to consider the ridiculous notion could have possibly been true. Garry for a moment almost looked hurt, then quickly converted a muffled expression of disgust and hatred. Standing up slowly, he twirled around to reveal his ancient sky blue suit, forced at the seams. Sandra’s hand slapped against the table as she tapped out to the "GutBuster", with poor Gary as the butt.

"I will have you know, that yours truly was invited out for an evening on the town with the lovely Electra Van Driesel, your and my boss. I have the invitation right here..."

"Lemme hear ya say Pimpin’ ain’t easy!"

"You want to read the letter I received? I’ve got it right here!"

"Oh wow... you know what the most stressful job in the house is tonight?"

"No..."

"A button on your shirt!"

"That’s it! Call this match your damn self, I’m going to meet Miss Van Driesel and you can best believe that you’re going to be a topic of conversation. If I were you, I think I would be getting your resume together. Once she finds out how you’re treating the star in her eyes, I am sure your walking papers can’t be too far behind. Maybe then I’ll get a co-announcer with talent."

Sandra continued her laughter and beating her hand while Garry sulked away, his face a jumbled pout. He tossed down a wadded piece of paper, obviously crumpled in his reaction to her laughter. He almost seemed genuinely hurt. Sandra remained oblivious, taking deep breaths to recover. Glancing down, she lifted the paper from the table and worked it open enough to glance at the writing.

"That’s not Miss Van Driesel’s Writing."

"Of course it’s not."

Came a third voice, the all too familiar sounds of Bianca Dupree. Stepping up to take the vacancy left by the bulbous wonder, she placed a plastic box atop the desk. A quiet smile graced her lips as she looked to the former wrestler. Sandra smirked and shook her head.

"And for the second week in a row, I welcome the FreeStyle, Bianca Dupree to the announce table."

" Have I missed anything yet?"

"Not really, what did you bring with you?"

"Modern science..."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Not really."

"Fair enough, so lets go back to the ring for our third match of the night."

The lights begin to fade into nothing, as the haunting melodies of Tori Amos's "Cruel" begin to play over the audio system. The shimmering curtains glide apart as D. Wayne Giles steps first through, followed by Rebecca Case. The audience barely provides a second look at the underexposed Case. They had no idea how to react to her presence. Giles soaked in the audience reaction as it were, while Rebecca seemed a bit more nervous. Giles lit into the audience, teasing at them with a slur of impolite sayings as they shunned his girl, not offering the proper respect he felt she should. The look on Rebecca’s face read as a mixture of nervousness and a hint of confusion, not really enjoying the antics of the man at her side. She owed him greatly for this opportunity, but that didn’t always make him tolerable. Giles entered the ring first and held the ropes for Rebecca.

"Who’s this putz?"

"Rebecca Case."

"No, the worm with her"

"That’s her manager, D. Wayne Giles."

"You’re kidding right? I swear, this place just attracts the hell out of them. First there’s your cohort. Then, there’s this goofball. Oh, and let’s not forget that Parker woman’s Weasel."

"Perhaps, but his contributions to society far outweigh his demeanor at ringside."

"You mind if I smoke?"

"Well, we’re not supposed..."

Too late, not as though she would have listened anyway. Digging one out and lighting it up, the grey smoke twisted away from the glowing cherry. Far be it from the Hellion to be impolite as she offered a second to Sandra, who waved it on with her hand.

"So, where is the goddamn opponent?"

"We’re on national TV here Miss Dupree."

"Call me FreeStyle."

"There are just certain things we’re not supposed to say and do on the air."

"Why? Do you think people tune in to see the same things they can watch everywhere else? Do you think they believe in that other stuff? If you think that people can’t tell when you’re a character then you’re out of your mind. Call it as you see it, as they see it. Why candy coat such a horrid reality?"

"You’re odd."

"Oh sheesh... Not her again."

Laura Parker promenades down the entrance ramp acknowledging her fans with her beauty queen wave. Only her wrist turns as she holds up her hand. She is wearing a white sheath dress with silver threads in it. It sparkles under the lights of the arena. She wears her hair in a twist and has her tiara in her hair. She walks to the announcer’s table and stands with her arms crossed on her chest and looks at Bianca. She looks hurt and angry. She holds an open palm towards the woman in the ring, asking her to hold her comments until such time as she were finished with her own.

"Well, little Miss Smarty Pants, I suppose that you think that you were very clever last week."

Bianca giggles, pursing her lips to avoid all out laughter. Her fingers slipped quietly to the top of the box. A barrage of green pyrotechnics shattered the silence at the doorway drawing the crowd’s attention away from the two at ringside. Laura dropped her hands to her hips to wait for their silence.

"You pulled the plug on me when I was telling the audience about those poor children that suffer from Childhood Onset Neuralgia. Shame on you!"

Another round of explosions burst forth, drawing the eyes of the crowd away from the emotional display once again. This had not been the intended use, but was proving rather useful despite. Laura held her poise, though shuddered in agitation with each passing moment the attention wasn’t on her.

"You may think you're funny, but you are not. Your actions were unkind, unprofessional and unfunny. (As Laura speaks her voice begins to crack, and she seems to be fighting the urge to cry. As she finishes she does begin to cry.)"

The speakers crackled to life, ripping the last words asunder by sheer volume. It was another case of Laura’s lips moving, but nothing could be heard. The final chords and lyrics of MegaDeth’s "Go to Hell" lead into the whining perfection of Dream Theater’s "Pull Me Under" pounded the arena with a heavy dosage of auditory overload. It was not uncommon for Bianca’s theme to assault the senses, and with every pulsating guitar lick, the agitation on Laura’s face grew. Bianca’s own arrogance grew with every moment. She enjoyed this... She could read her like a book and play with her like a doll. Slowly, she allowed the music to fade... running a finger across the pad at her fingers.

" You have disappointed a lot of sick children. (Laura breaks down into loud sobs. After a short while she regains control of herself) I am here to demand that you apologize to all the poor suffering little children you disappointed last week. If you cannot find it in your heart to apologize to them, then I challenge you to fight me in the wrestling ring at the earliest date BRA can arrange. So the choice is yours."

Finally, after how many minutes of waiting, the tardy Misery slipped from the back curtains and made her way towards the ring, arms raised out as if someone would take a moment to cheer for her. Yet someone else who felt they deserved the limelight.

Do you apologize now, or do I teach you the lesson you so richly deserve, in the ring?"

Misery strode along side of Laura and looked at her questioningly, trying to snatch the microphone out of her hand. A silly display of Laura, still holding up her facade of pageantry, tugging with one hand against the forceful jerks of Misery. A quick tug and a release by Laura had Misery hitting herself in the nose with the microphone, forcing her to drop it. Laura swept down and lifted it again, showing feigned concern for the injured Misery. Laura starts to tap her foot petulantly. The expression on her face resembles that of a mother dealing with her errant four-year-old child.

Laura: I'm waiting.

Bianca rolled her eyes in disgust, already bored with the entity before her. Standing slowly, Bianca folded her chair and turned around. Laura’s eyes widened for a moment as she stepped away from the railing, still unsure of who the opposition was or even her background. Bianca shook her head quietly and held it out to Miss Parker.

"Hold this for me, you’ll feel safer."

Laura took the chair gingerly in her hands and behind the screen of metal, let loose a sigh of relief. Bianca ran a finger in a leftward slash, then a rightward one to articulate a delicate X across the chair. The next two motions were little more than a blur, a quick motion to the tabletop, then coming back down in a aerial roundhouse crashing the chair into the face of Laura, slumping down outside the ring. The chair clattered to her side. Bianca slipped over and removed the encrusted tiara from the inanimate Parker, twirling it mindlessly around her finger.

"Throw me that..."

Bianca pointed towards the microphone laying upon the floor. Misery, still holding her nose from the earlier incident, obliged quickly and tossed it to her and slid into the ring. Misery and Rebecca both looked on incredulously, they were the ones assigned this slot, they were the ones who were supposed to be creating a show for the fans, instead... they were being upstaged by someone who held no contract and Sally Struthers.

"Well... Crank it UP!"

And they popped in response, the crowd rising to their feet as Bianca threw her hair back and took another long drag from her cigarette, leaning down to blow the smoke in the face of her unconscious opponent.

"And Yank Your Knobs Off!"

It had been some time since she had heard that response. A smile quickly dominated her visage as she stepped about. Jeans and a T-shirt, one would be hard-pressed to tell from what level of society she hailed.

"Do not preach to me, it should more than obvious that I just don’t listen. Is it because I’ve been hit so many times in the head, my hearing’s gone? It is because when I ask for it, the crowds deafen me? Is it because your microphone chord is unplugged again? No, I just don’t care."

Security slipped from the curtains to deal with the situation at hand. Bianca saluted their presence with a kindly finger gesture and returned to her speech.

"As far as the, "wrestling" lesson, I think I just aced that exam. And this is for all those sick, hungry, and poor children suffering from the C.O.N. disease, I’m sure all your S.U.C.K.E.R.S can foot the bill. Princess, your empire is crumbling. Dare you still wear this?"

Bianca held up the tiara between the tips of her fingers, swinging it loosely.

"A throwback to a time when your looks could get you somewhere. Those days are over..."

And the Tiara crashed to the floor at the foot of the Hellion, then stepped on by the slightly worn tread of Nikes. The sickening crunch did little to awaken its former bearer. A grinding of the heel and the trophy was rendered obsolete.

"Now Cut the Shit, and Start the Pit!"

And with that, Bianca took a step to the top of the railing then a second dive atop the raised arms of the audience, surfing amongst the raised arms as security tried to get closer and remove the admitted anarchist from the building. Bianca had twice embarrassed the federation, had twice embarrassed the Laura Parker, and held the highest trump possible in that she was not bound by any rules. She showed up when she wanted, disappeared as she pleased and this night was no exception.

Misery looked to Rebecca, who spanned her gaze back to the surfing HellRaiser, the now stirring socialite then back to Misery. A shrug exchanged between the women. And Misery stepped in for an attack. Rebecca ducked the attack and connected with a quick left followed by a right that sent Misery back first to the canvas.

Rebecca snapped her back up and drew a knee into the midsection of the opposition, tucking her under and arm and splashing her to the mat with a DDT. Rebecca looked to the audience and smirked, gliding her elbow pad off with a quirked eyebrow raised high in emulation of some other famous wrestling figure. A quick crossing of the arms, the hands, then back out in a sign then towards the ropes, off again a jump over the opponent, Asai Moonsault to the grounded opponent, stealing the breath from the injured Misery.

Rebecca rose again to her feet, dragging the weakened Misery with her. A shot to the jaw sent Misery back to the corner. On the other side, Bianca, followed by several members of security slid into the ring out and the other side, drop toe holding the first out of the ring across the guardrail. Wasting no time, the race resumed as Rebecca watched in admiration, trying not to laugh at the fat, doughnut-eating bastards.

A forearm shot to Misery, and the fight was back in the ring with Rebecca owning her opponent. Another sling into the ropes and a Frankensteiner to the canvas, Rebecca stood up and raised her hands. She got no response, the crowd was too busy watch the great race around the arena. Laura had regained her senses, and after teasing a few strands of her hair back into place, looked solemnly down at her shattered crown. Fury could not describe the look in her eyes as her breathing went terse and shallow.

The manager, Giles, paced slowly outside the ring and tried to grant some support for his girl, still met with jeers. Rebecca had the match won already and her expression showed it. Picking Misery up once more, she leveled a slap at her face, spinning Misery back to the ground.

And here came the entourage again, Bianca followed now by only five of the guards from earlier. Sliding back into the ring, she ducked behind the confused Rebecca and stared over her shoulder, weaving back and forth daring the security to touch her without interfering in the match. Bianca backed away and back flipped over the top, again darting back up the entry way, taking the time to pop Laura on the back of the head on the way out. Suddenly, there were six chasing her.

Rebecca shrugged her shoulders and picked Misery back up. Tugging her towards the corner, Rebecca sat herself upon the top turnbuckle, then slung off with a tornado DDT, bouncing Misery off the mat like a pogo stick. Rebecca strode back to her corner to talk wisdom with her manager, all smiles from such an easy outing in the ring.

"Finally, Sorry fans... all the fighting over here had knocked out our communications link. I’m back, and returned... is Garry Grimoire"

"Shhhh... I’m hiding."

"From who?"

"Well, when I got to the room Electra’s message said, there was a four hundred pound woman in a gorilla costume. She’s been chasing me ever since."

Fade back to the match in the middle of Sandra’s laughter, Rebecca swinging around a barely conscious Misery and slamming her head into the mat with a Bulldog. Rebecca looked to her manager and received the sign, hoisting Misery up and tucking her back for that patented Gile’s Drop, Inverted DDT. Tossing a leg over, she held her down for the three and a victory. Misery remained down....

"Well, so much for this circus. "

"Did I miss something?"

"Nope, not really..."

Winner. Rebecca Case.