By: Alice Knight

Writing Prompt: Yes

Date: 21st Nov 2021

Alice Knight in ‘A CHRISTMAS CAR-OWL!’


We open on a shot of Alice Knight on her sofa, passed out with bottles of empty Jello shooter cups on the floor in front of her.

Twas a few nights before Venom, when all through Alice’s house

Not a creature was stirring, not even owls;

Alice’s soaked stockings were hung over the bathroom door with care,

In hopes that they will dry and not need to buy another pair;

Alice Knight was resting all snug on her couch,

Having dreams of more vodka jello shooters in her mouth;


A man’s voice shouted. Alice reached for a pillow. The man’s voice belonged to Ferguson, Alice’s homeless unemployed friend.


Ferguson shouted again. Alice just rolled over, arms over her eyes. Ferguson losing patience, grabs a roll of dimes and throws it at her head. This wakes her up.

“WHAT THE HELL!?!?!? What’s your problem, Fergie? Jesus…” Alice said rubbing her head.

“Not cool, Ferguson.” said another man, sitting on the couch by Alice.

“Ferguson?” Alice said looking at the stranger on her couch. “Who is this?”


Ferguson: That’s Omar.

Omar: Hey, I’m Omar! Nice to meet you. Alex, right?

Alice frowns still rubbing her forehead. “It’s ALICE! ALICE KNIGHT!”

Omar: Well, Alison, you out of milk. And by the looks of it, Owl food.

Alice’s pet owl, Owlie flies on the sofa from her open cage and drops her food bowl on the carpet in front of Alice. Owlie begins shrieking.

Alice: I’ll get right on that… Omar, is it? Ferguson, why you waking me up with a roll of dimes to my head? Dude…

Ferguson: You told me to wake you up to prepare for your match with that Anne Boleyn chick at Venom. I tried calling you like a dozen times. That’s where the classic rolled up dimes to the head always works. And it did…

Alice: Riiiiiiight. I forgot about  the Anne Boleyn match.

Omar: Who is Anne Boleyn?

Ferguson: Dude…

Alice: Yeaaaah, dude. She is, like, well… actually I don’t know much about her either. But she is who I am facing at Venom in New York next week. She already embarrassed me on twitter with her ‘out fashioning’ me. Her style is very mature to put it kindly.

Omar: You two are having a walk off fashion contest or something?

Ferguson: Dude….

Alice: Yeeeeah, dude. What kind of NOOBS are you bringing into my home, Fergie? No, Omar. We are not having a fashion contest. It will be a wrestling match. Old school. One on one. Very physical, very dangerous and very tough. This is my debut match in FIGHT New York. First time in the fight towers squared circle. I need to make a impact in my first outing. But something tells me she is ready to shut me down early in my FIGHT run. She already got the first laugh with her fashion statement. She drew the first major punch. But it’s in the ring where it matters the most.

Owlie shrieks again, flapping her wings.

Alice: OWLIE! CALM DOWN, GIRL! I’ll feed you later…

Omar: Well if you lose, I’m sure it won’t be a big deal. Like my dad always said, when you fall off your bike just get back on it and keep trying. Alice, if you lose to Anne, just jump back into the ring…

Omar smiles as Ferguson and Alice look at him with shocked looks.

Ferguson: Dude…

Alice: Yeah, dude…

Omar: What are you two broken records? What did I say? I was being positive.

Ferguson(shaking his head): Dude…

Alice stands up looking down at Omar.

Alice: Listen, whatever your name is…

Omar: It’s Omar, remember?

Alice: WHATEVER YOUR NAME IS! I don’t need a downer in my place right now. You think you were being positive with that ‘ride a bike’ bullshit jibberish? Wrestling is very competitive. It’s not as simple as ‘hey, i fell down. Might as well get back up and pretend nothing happened, ah derp!’.  This is in front of an arena full of Owl Is Night, Hoot fans. They pay the money to see me win, not ‘try again’. They pay me to do what I do best. And that’s kick some ass and take some names. Anne Boleyn, who I am sure is good. But she is out there to do the same as me. You think her friends are saying ‘hey Anne, ride a bike or some shit like that.’ No they are telling her ‘Anne, you may look like a delicious Oreo cookie! BUT BEAT ALICE’S ASS AT VENOM!!’

Omar: Jesus, I am sorry…

Alice: Are you? Are you sorry? Just… just leave…

Alice pouts and points to the front door.

Omar: Really?

Ferguson: Yeah, we should go Omar. You don’t want to poke the bear any further do you? That would be BEARY bad, right? He he..

Ferguson looks to Alice as he chuckles. She waves her finger to the front door again.

Ferguson: Ok we will leave… let’s go Omar.

Omar: Sorry Alice…

Omar and Ferguson grab their coats and head towards the exit. Alice stands there still pointing as they leave. Owlie begins shrieking and Alice again. Alice snaps her fingers at Owlie and points.

Alice: You too, Owlie! Out! You have to hunt for your supper tonight, bird. GO!

Owlie flaps her wings and then flies out of the open window. Alice sits down on the couch, legs crossed and arms folded.

Alice: All that confidence I had going into my match with Miss Boleyn is flushed down the toilet. Not even the best of plungers can save the mess. Wait… is my confidence a piece of turd? Hmmm… there’s got to be a better way to express how I feel… ugh… now I am really depressed. I wish I were dead… I wish I never existed… life would be so better if my stupid loser ass wasn’t around. Give Anne Boleyn a real opponent not like myself. Her in her expensive sexy suits deserves someone better than my thrift shop custom designs. Ugh… what’s the point anyway? I wish I were dead…


A voice says in a German like accent from her bedroom down the hall. Alice stands up and does a karate pose as she walks to the bedroom. Before she gets there a tall, pale man in a white suit walks out.

Man: I mean you no harm, Alice…


Man: No, Alice. I am your Guardian Angel. I am here for you. So worry not. Please allow me to give you a reason to live. And to find out what life would be like if you were never corn.

Alice: Angel? What do you mean you are a… wait… did you say CORN?

Man/Angel: Born.

Alice: No, no, no. You said corn. You don’t just make that mistake. Corn and Born are different… they rhyme yes. But you just don’t SAY corn when you MEAN born… right?

Man/Angel: I meant, born.

Alice: You did say corn though…

Man/Angel: Do you want to know what life would be like without Alice Knight or not?

Alice: Well… is this some sort of lame A Christmas Carol shtick you’re doing? Because I’ve read the book. Seen the movies. I grew up on that story. And it’s always lame when I see it attempted in TV shows or movies… because if this is what this is about, i’m not buying it. Nice suit though. Really… snazzy? Is that a word? Look I don’t have time to play reindeer games with you right now. I either have to focus on my match with Anne Boleyn or… shoot myself in the head with a revolver… if I had a revolver that is.. you wouldn’t? Nah, probably not…

Man/Angel: No I don’t hurt the one I am a guardian of. Listen, Alice. I am here for you. Look at this picture of you, your mother and your father. Before the divorce.

The man holds a framed picture of Alice’s family.

Alice: Yeeeeah. That was before my dad turned gay. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I love gay people. No homo. It just depressed my mother and ruined the family in so many words… but no Homo.

Man/Angel: Well if you were never born, your father would have never accidently went into that gay bar the night you were conceived.

Alice: Is that how it happened?

Man?Angel: Yes, no, probably. Once you enter those places you don’t leave the same… one time I dropped my wallet in a Gay Bar and I was wearing ass-less leather chaps and well…

Alice: Ok, ok. What does that mean though? Are you telling me that my dad would’ve never turned gay if i weren’t born? And my parents would be happy together? How does this help me, Angel? How?

The man grabs Alice by the arm and drags her to the window where they see Ferguson, Omar and Owlie digging for worms in the front yard.

Alice: Haha, classic Ferguson… he found a fat juicy one.

Man/Angel: No Alice. If you were never corn, um, born… born. If you didn’t exist, ol’ Ferguson wouldn’t be digging for worms without a job. He’d be happy working 40 hours a week at a office. Sure, on off days, he would dig for worms. Nothing beats a good worm digging. But it would be less desperate and pathetic. And Owlie. Owlie wouldn’t be starving in a small house in the suburbs. No. She’d be in the wilderness with others like her.

Alice: Oh… so another reason I should be dead, I guess? Not helping me here Mr. Angel…

Man/Angel: And what about your match with Anne Boleyn at Venom 14? She would have no one to wrestle… she would have no one to beat in her way to the top of FIGHT NEW YORK CITY! Of course, the week after she would beat someone else and still rise to her eventual well deserved glory in the company. But that one week, where she was gonna face you. The Night Owl… no Alice Knight…no blood money…

Alice thinking as she paces.

Alice: So what you’re telling me, everyone would be happier if I was never corn..

Man/Angel: See… it’s an easy mistake to make…

Alice:  This is shitty news, bud… like really crap…

Alice falls to her knees weeping pulling on the Angel’s jacket.

Man/Angel: You know what to do Alice… you might as well kill yourself now before you do more harm… and is it cool if I watch you do it? Don’t worry I won’t smear your blood over my naked body or anything. Promise…

Alice weeps some more and pulls his jacket so hard it opens. A bunch of women’s panties and bras fall on Alice’s head from his jacket. Alice investigates the underwear.

Alice: Wait… these are mine. These are all mine. Are you just some weirdo stealing my undies? You were never an Angel, were you?

Man/Angel(looks around nervously): Um, what if I said I was an angel? Just a panty stealing Angel???

Alice(raising a fist): Ohhhh I outta!

The man points down the hall.


Alice looks down the hall and begins swatting her hands at the non-existent bee. Finally she realizes there is no bee attack and turns around to see the white suited man gone and through the front window can be seen running down the sidewalk. Alice sticks her fist out the window and begins shaking it furiously. She goes to pick up her underwear and heads to her room where the man made a huge mess.

Alice: Classic stalker-panty-thief 1.0.1. So he made all that up. Ha! Trying to mess with me isn’t the smartest thing to do. I didn’t fall for it. Ha! My parents would be miserable anyway. Ferguson wouldn’t work to save his life and Owlie. She loves it here. But what about Anne Boleyn? I hope she is ready for me. If I am going down in my debut match in FIGHT! I am going down a fighter…

Alice puts away her clothes and goes to walk out the room but she spots the Angel man looking in the window with a creepy smirk. Ferguson, with Owlie on his shoulder are also looking in the window. Alice throws a shoe at the window scaring all three of them. Scene fades.




Later that night we see Alice Knight opening up her laptop. She logs onto the FIGHTNYC site and goes to post a vlog message. She begins…

“Okay, where do I begin? Anne Boleyn I guess would be a good start. She is my first obstacle and challenge for The Night Owl  in my first run in FIGHT! NYC! This is an important match for me. I mean there nothing at stake. Nothing but our pride. I want to win to show that I am not a has been. That I can still go in the ring with someone as quick and stylish as Miss Boleyn. But Anne is going in thinking the same thing. If she can take me out early in my FIGHT career. She moves up the rankings and I will be stuck around the mid-opening card until I get that big win. Not to say beating Alice Knight is worth marking off a bucket list or anything. Nah, I am just some chick wanting to get her swerve on, ya know? I am forgettable. I am like  fast food. Awesome for awhile and then you just get sick of it. And you get cramps. But while I am easy to throw away like some half eaten chicken sandwich or half a cup of syrupy soda pop. Sometimes, I can give you that filled up feeling and you just need more of me… and… well… now I am hungry. I think I am not making myself clear. Anne. You’re a pot roast. Nope. That’s the same direction. What I am REALLY TRYING TO SAY IS… I am coming to Fight Towers ready for a exactly that. A Fight. And while people on the roster seem to be cool with breaking ankles and legs. I don’t plan to do that to you. Or even hurt you too much. But I do plan on beating you, and pinning you 1,2,3… 4 if I have to. Good luck Anne. Should be a good one… HOOT”

Alice winks into the camera before saving and exiting.