All Around the Mulberry Bush…
By: Druscilla White
Writing Prompt: No
Date: 24th Aug 2021
Clauson grabbed a drink from a fan and bashed it against my head, sending ice and plastic bits everywhere…
My breathing slowed. My eyes dilated. The cheers faded to echoes. The camera’s flashes blinked into nothing.
Vhodka slammed somebody against the mat. I look up, I see the Fade2Black banners. I blink my eyes. Confused. She’s yelling, but what’s she saying? Who’s in the ring with her? …
It’s.. it’s me!
I watched with bated breath. I returned strong, grabbing her by her hair and throwing her back. But she countered. Fucking surreal literally watching myself have the shit beat out of me, especially by that scrawny, assless chicken! She’s yelling again, punching me. I can’t make out her words, but I do remember the hatred I felt. I loathed her. I wanted to break her.
She spun me around, I cringe remembering how hard this hit my chest.. into the turnbuckle. It knocked the wind out of me. I watched as I collapsed against the mat, and Vhodka dove for the pin.
I was unable to move.
It was when Vincent slid from outside with those godsdamned Funyuns and fucking bologna! That sent a rage through me that had me seeing blood for weeks!
That is what fed our hatred of one another. And I hated her with such fire, I wanted to see her whole world burn. I wanted to see Her burn!
The world began to fade again, jettisoning me somewhere else.
The locker rooms in Outlaw Pro. We still disliked one another, but I had begun to see Vhodka with her adopted children. Well, we both began to see past each other’s facade. I had heard her story, she had heard mine. My hatred was waning. Hers was fizzing like soda pop.
She wasn’t as bad as she portrayed herself. Vhodka, in reality, was a decent girl, a woman of rather questionable morals but she had substance. She fought for those she cared about. Even the dregs of the business. Like Asher. Fuck that kid.
Snippets flew by of Vhodka helping train her kids, helping them grow as people.
I had been too quick to judge her. She was my dearest friend, and I needed to apologize for the terror I’d sent her way. The whole fight wasn’t necessary. Snack foods and all. Shouldn’t have been a blip. We both were the same. We defended our loved ones. We were vicious when they were attacked. We didn’t cry to the darkness, we fed on the pain and stood back up.
The Devil bowed to us.
Asher had caused enough damage to himself, his life. Vhodka tried like hell to bring him back. To give him stability. But he was an asshole. A legitimate fucking waste of space, but she never gave up. She was determined.
I’d have burned him at the stake… But that’s me, no one should accept parenting advice from me.
As the world began to spin, and the pain began to feel real, I finally caught my breath. Fucking Clauson. The biggest godsdamned pitiful excuse of a penis, a heap of flesh that should have been melted into soap, I had ever seen. I rolled from beneath him and swept his leg. The stench of IcyHot, sweat and stupid was thick in the air. Fuck this. The crowd went wild, I could hear them screaming my name. MY name. Not his. I may have lost against Vhodka, again, but I would not let this geezer keep me down.
Before I could slam his skull into the pavement, security split us up. But one boot made contact against his jaw as they hauled me away. Fucker. He’d remember my name. I was the motherfucking Prophet!
Who was he? He was NOTHING! Dust in the wind. As Inconsequential as they come. He let me down then, and I knew he’d let me down again. But this? This beat down? He’d remember that shit. Every morning he looked in the mirror, he’d see my face. The cuts and bruises I gave him. Not Vincent. Not Vhodka. ME!
Security finally let me go when Roscoe and Memphis stopped them. I smirked. ”Tough loss, Boss.” I glared at Roscoe but before I could speak, “Next time, you’ll get them next time, Mama is waiting in your room Boss.” Leave it to Memphis to be the ray of light. I patted both of them on the back and took the towel Roscoe had. Lovely. Now I have to deal with Mama. Dabbed it at my face. A little blood. Figures. Fucker not only ruined my hair and makeup, but he felt the need to attempt to scar me. Cute. Real cute.
Clauson, ever the failure.
——————————— Hearst Tower ———————————
Per the request, I took the elevator upstairs. Was I in trouble? Most likely. Did I care? Fuck no. I had done my job. I had shown up, despite not wanting to work with Clauson at all. I snarled as her secretary ushered me into her office. Limp greetings were offered by myself, as well as the bitch who summoned me. She didn’t even offer me a seat, or even some of her weak ass coffee. Straight to business. I didn’t mind that terribly much, but manners did matter.
”Yeah, I’m sorry Dru, but Clauson has been released from his contract.” I gasped. Leave it to Miss F. Always the bitch of bad news. ”Ok, what’s that mean for me? Fuck that guy. Couldn’t run with me, anyway, even if he drank all the red bull in the city.” She raised an eyebrow. ”It means he’s out. Gone. It means we’ll pair you with another partner. Again, I’m very sorry.. I know how… how well you two had worked together.” Yeah. I heard that sarcasm. I rolled my eyes and sighed. ”Fine. Who is it? And is this motherfucker serious, or am I going to have another Clauson on my hands?” She cleared her throat. Clearly annoyed.
”Asher.” …. All of the blood rushed from my face and fell into the bowels of Hel below me. ”You’re fucking kidding.” She shook her head. ”Dead serious.” I rubbed my jaw a bit and licked my lower lip. Well, if she kept this up, she’d had the dead part right. ”Fuck… Fine. But if the little prick pulls a muscle and cries, I’m putting a bullet between his eyes.”
Fucking Miss F strikes again. Cunt. I really needed to pile-drive her into a muffcuffin. Leave her broken down in the Bronx. Bitch fucks me every time I turn around and she never buys me fucking dinner. I slammed the door to her office, here in Hearst tower, and growled as I left. The staff skittered around me, I was livid. This whole thing had been a fucking hose job.
I was the most laid back of the crew. The most chill. But since this fucking tag shit had been announced, I had been fucking blindsided. I didn’t appreciate any of it. Clauson had been a cunt. A self-absorbed, ancient and decaying cunt. Fucker needed to be sponsored by Life-Alert. He’d have been perfect for their commercials, he proved that at the last show. Bitch fell like a champ. JMont would have been proud, if he’d been able to yank his lips off ARP’s twat.
As much as I hated to admit it, I was angry. I was fucking pissed. I was livid with Xavier. He’s smug face. That bullshit “Holier than thou” persona he’d adopted since he opened Fight. I was angry at Vhodka for being that much better than I was. I worked three times harder than anyone else in this Godsforsaken business. I shed more blood. More tears. More sweat. I was leaner. Meaner. I’m only mean to people who truly deserve it. Like a vigilante bitch. A bitchilante, if you will. I held my own against Gods and monsters!
Ellen Ripley kissed my boots.
I am the Devil and I do wear Prada!
I was mad at Jax for making me love him. And I was mad at him for letting me leave. I was pissed at Robi for telling me I could do this. I felt like I was failing. I felt like I was letting her and all of the Wolves down. I was angry with MeowlMir for leaving me… For leaving that hole in my heart that nothing could fill. I was mad at Sahara for beating me in BloodMoney. I was mad at Shawn for not having my back.
I was pissed at Dane for losing the reins on his family. I root for him and his bitch wife, but Dane seriously needed to put that shit down. Send Joe back to whatever deranged snatch spat him out. As much as I didn’t care for Allison, I never wanted to see Dane lose her. Call me a romantic. Whatever. I’d rather see #TeamPreston trending on Twatter than anything to do with Joe.
Unless it was JMont’s obituary.
I was pissed at –… Nevermind… Fuck it, I loved that boy. An unrequited love. A shrouded love. I would never openly admit it, ever. But that was a topic for a whole other monologue.
As far as anyone was concerned, my heart was ice. But, my heart doesn’t matter. None of it mattered.
I was rage personified.
I was vengeance incarnate.
I was a tempest, gaining speed.
I was out to write these motherfuckers obituaries.
I tried so hard. But the tidal waves that were shoving me down kept me from reaching the people I wanted to be seen by. The friendships I wanted. Hell, I got in my own way when it came to love. I always did.
This whole time, my career had been on the back burner, but when I moved it to the front and flipped that bitch on…
It began to boil over. I Knew I could do this, I knew I could bring this to a calm rolling boil… but how? I won. I lost. I lost. I lost. I won. I’d get a taste of the win, then fall on my ass for a while. Yeah, it’s a learning curve and recently I had been thrown a whopper of a fast ball… But I was determined. I had my MC. I had Mama and weirdly, Henry. Mama was very good at being supportive, but Henry, I got the feeling he was never going to be happy with my life choice of wrestling.
. I had no one to blame but myself. Not Miss F. Not even that fucker Clauson.
This was on Me.
This is what I aimed to rectify.
——————————— The Unknown Wilderness ———————————
”Have you ever wondered why?” My voice was soft, my face cast downward. ”Why are you even here? Paul… It’s cute you think you’re loved. But you’re one of the most vile sacks of meat I’ve seen in my life. Not even disgusting enough to be the number one. Shocker. It’s your lot in life to be less than anyone else around you.” I looked upwards, a sigh escaping my lips. The moon, clear and crystal above me, reflected through my eyes. ”I mean look at you. There’s a term for men, no sorry not a man, a boy like you. Fuckboy. That’s all you are. Look at your partner. Dickie Watson… He’s waltzing around like the Queen of pussy… When really, he’s a chump. Like you. Sure, he’s the Empire champion, but he’s paired with you. That kicks the legs out from under him, doesn’t it? Such a shame. Dickie is one of the few fighters in this that actually throws down. Pity he’s handicapped by you, Paul.” That’s when all of the screens in Fight Tower flipped on. I was everywhere. The hallways. The offices. The elevators. Even the private rooms.
Gotta love technology.
”You all know me. You’ve watched me fight. You’ve heard stories about me, I’m sure. Some you even believe. Some of you have even met me in the ring… Right Michelle?” I blew a kiss to her and grinned, sadistically. ”How’d that loss taste sweetheart?” I scoffed. ”I don’t care what any of you fuckers think about me, I never have and I never fucking will. I am who I am. I fight how I fight. I’ve lost, yeah. Who hasn’t? But let’s be real here, I have survived some shit most wouldn’t. Right Brandon? You tried to bury me three times, bruh. And guess who is still standing?” I smiled, looked up to the night sky.
”See that?” The camera panned upwards. A perfect, clear night. Where was I? It wasn’t New York. Hell, there were trees… It wasn’t in the city at all. “That’s what I call home. The Moon energizes me. It quenches my thirst.” I took a deep breath. Exhaled slowly. ”Toxic Tag.” I chuckled. ”Fitting. Considering who my worst half is this round. Asher Fucking Jules. But I suppose I should be grateful, at least I don’t have to worry about Asher breaking a hip… I’m not here for the glory. I’m not here for the BloodMoney. But I am here for the blood. I am here to wreck fuckmuppets and bathe the ring in gore.” I stood up, the mountains clearly shown behind me. Where was I? Mountains? Snow? Had I found a magical time warp that sent me back to last winter, or had I found the one place that maintained snow year round? And how the fuck had I gotten here so swiftly?
”Yeah, between Dickie and Paul, the dickless crew, Dane and Joe, who are more focused on sending one another to medical or the morgue, Brandon and Shawn the preppie kids who barely see past their own shadows. Maybe I don’t stand a chance at winning. Maybe I do, who knows how the Fates will roll their dice. But this I’ll tell you now, I won’t go down without a fight. I will break my own fucking limbs to succeed. I will shed my own blood if necessary. Be damned if you fucks win easily. As for Asher… Honestly? I don’t fucking care. Sorry Vhodka… I love you but… He’s not worth the bengay he keeps in his jock.” I tugged my heavy coat closer, still smiling. In my element. The cold air. The snow. Nature. I felt rejuvenated. Renewed. A weight had dropped on me with Clauson running away, but I yanked that fucking weight behind me. Nothing keeps me down.
”Speaking of, I’d be remiss if I didn’t say this. Vhodka, I know you’re paired with Voo, my condolences but if I see a chance, I will make sure one of you doesn’t move forward. That’s a promise.” I looked at the camera, as if I were looking in Vhodka’s eyes. ”You can bet.” My fangs glimmered in the moonlight and snow. I grinned wider. “I mean, I still have an issue with ya’lls husband for one. A score that was never settled. That fucking bologna. He will pay for that sheer disrespect. I am worth far more than heavily processed lips and assholes!” I snarled, as Duke and Hazard howled behind me. I grinned. Yeah, of course Zion was here with me. Pack retreat before we go to war. “Hear that Vincent? I owe you, and it’ll be much worse than bologna. I’m not Clauson, old man. I am not going to lay down and make it easy.” Another wave of howls broke the pristine silence; this time reciprocated by Duke and Hazard. ”The Wolves are out, and all you motherfuckers have been put on notice.”
The camera panned back, showing not only the wintery wonderland we were enjoying, but my MC, all standing behind me. I grinned. As the Wolves threw themselves into their howls, I looked back to the camera. “This goes for you, too, Sahara. No one is safe. And I mean no one.” Once more they howled, sending shivers through the air. I smiled.
”Fight Tower is about to be a fucking bloodbath, Toxic Tag will be the ritual sacrifice I need. And I’m bringing the knife. I’m the VooDoo Queen, the motherfucking Prophet, and you fuckers will suffer! See you all Saturday…” I grabbed the camera and planted a big ol’ kiss on the lens. ”Send butterflies through your heart Vhodka?” Before the screens went black, a final haunting call of howls erupted in chilling unison. My brand banner flashed across the screen as a lyrical giggle faded into nothing.
——————————— Susan E Wager High School ———————————
It took zero time to track him down. Figured. A fucking high school. What a shock. Where Asher felt comfortable, I’m sure. I sauntered into Susan E. Wager high school and sought out the moron. Down a few halls, I could hear some noise, a commotion fit for a virgin’s first ride in a frat house. The scents of rancid sweat, disappointment and plague level jock rot. I bet Asher felt completely at home here. Whereas I… I felt very out of place and supremely uncomfortable. I hadn’t been in a legitimate high school since I was 16. I hadn’t marched the dreary hallways, nor had I suffered through a droning teacher’s lecture. I did mail correspondence. Shame I couldn’t do the same here. Asher was a worthless ringer. What did X want me to do with him?
I could bury him if he wanted, he just needed to ask.
Upon finding the gymnasium, I shuddered softly. The stench of feet, piss and Axe body spray assaulted my nose the moment I stepped through the double doors. My boots were heavy over the gym’s floor, their thuds echoed into the rafters. I chose my best thick heeled boots today. Stilettos just didn’t seem fitting for this type of meeting. I tucked my sunglasses into an inner pocket of my leather cut and stopped Memphis from following me out to where Asher, the princess, hung from some fucked up rigging. I stopped just outside of the makeshift ring, crossed one foot over the other and leaned on my right leg.
As he yanked the slobberknocked mouth guard from his puke-inducing lips, my hackles rose.
”Lookit. Someone found a gym.” Yup. That’s why. I sneered, feigning a sweet smile. ”Look, they hang their cunts up to dry here.” I could see his face drop. I grinned. Our back and forth was something we’d done before. I hated him. He hated me. Perfect relationship, but unfortunately we had to work together here. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I’d rather him for a partner than Clauson or anyone else they could have paired me with. With the exception of Robi… Or even Lochlyn Cade. He’d have made a very nice partner. Just as ruthless. Just as vicious. Just as bloodthirsty.
They saddled me with a scrawny wanna-be Princess.
Asher was a prick. A Grade A douchebag and he knew it. But the sad fact was, I’d defend him no questions asked. Yeah, he’d double cross me at the given chance, but I wasn’t like that. Something I doubt he knew about me. I hated him. Sure. But he was my partner in this fuckery. Someone comes at him, they deal with me. I was a big enough person to admit that. Was he? Could he climb down off his huge rubber dildo long enough and stand side by side with me in that ring Saturday? Could he get over himself, stop faking injuries and actually try?
I doubted it. I was sure he’d fuck me over. But what I absolutely would not tolerate… Him being an embarrassment. Like he was every single day. Probably not the first time he’d ever heard that the better part of him ran down his mama’s leg and pooled beside her IQ. Harsh? Nope.
Yeah, I had thrown Clauson to Vhodka and Vincent. He fucked me harder, face it. All I did was refuse to give him a reprieve from their beat down. Admittedly, he had done it to me first. He knew how badly I wanted a run at Vhodka. And he stole it from me. Now, if Asher makes the same mistake… Stepping between me and whomever I wanted to take down, he’d be the first motherfucker to drip blood. But, assuming he understands and actually tries to win… Then maybe, just maybe I could work with him. Does this mean I could see past his asshole nature? Fuck no. I want nothing to do with Asher Fucking Jules after Toxic Tag was over.
He’d go back to loathing me, and I would go back to him not existing in my world. Pretty simple.
As we continued our tête-à-tête, All around the Mulberry bush…