Post by Tiffany White on Jan 10, 2016 16:07:14 GMT -5
PROMO #1 - sUNRISE
It was the morning of January 4th, 2016. About 6 or 7 AM, I don't remember which. Right as the sun began to creep up from behind the horizon and shine a light on the beautiful naked woman sleeping next to me.
We were lodging at a nearby Holiday Inn from the club the both of us had happened to be visiting. The room itself was nothing to write home about. I've been to a million Holiday Inns on the poker circuit, and they're all the same. Same nice beds, same nice bathroom, same nice flatscreen and selection of channels I won't ever bother to watch, same nice bible I won't even dare touch out of sheer disgust. My bags were shoved in the corner on one of the armchairs, our clothes in a messy heap by the side of the bed. My nice, rather expensive lingerie intertwined with her simple cotton panties and bra. She wasn't at the club expecting to get with someone, otherwise she would've chosen something more...amorous.
Her name was Jennifer. I dunno what is was that first attracted me to her that night when I saw her. Perhaps it was her long, gorgeous brunette hair (I do kind of have a thing for brunettes...rawr.) Perhaps it was the naturally friendly and welcoming look in her eyes. Or perhaps it was that fucking lech who was forcing himself upon her. An old fashioned papa's boy from the look of it. Emphasis on ~boy.~ I refuse to refer to the person who came to her last night as a man. He had the look down to a T. Expensive-ass suit. A veritable cloud of cologne around him, enough to make your eyes water. A smug little grin....ooooh, I just wanted to punch that fuckboy so hard, hard enough to where you could hear his jaw crack in half. But I didn't. I didn't need to stoop to his level. I looked at the two of them from across the bar, noticed the warm smile disappear from her face as their conversation kept going. Couldn't hear a word of what they were saying, but I knew it wasn't good. So I acted. I got up out of my seat, informed the bouncer of what was going on. As soon as I sat back down, he motioned over to the fuckboy in question and got him away from the girl. That's when I made the first direct move on her.
When going after women in the way I do, it's of the utmost importance that you get a read on if they'll consent to leaving with you. It's a truth I have to face, not every woman I meet will be into other women. I get that, and as disappointing as it probably will be to me, I've come to always respect their decision either way. It's sadly happened more times then I'd care to admit. Luckily for me on this night, ole' Jennifer was completely into everything I was giving. As soon as I sat down to introduce myself I could see a flirtatious little grin grow on her face.
We were lodging at a nearby Holiday Inn from the club the both of us had happened to be visiting. The room itself was nothing to write home about. I've been to a million Holiday Inns on the poker circuit, and they're all the same. Same nice beds, same nice bathroom, same nice flatscreen and selection of channels I won't ever bother to watch, same nice bible I won't even dare touch out of sheer disgust. My bags were shoved in the corner on one of the armchairs, our clothes in a messy heap by the side of the bed. My nice, rather expensive lingerie intertwined with her simple cotton panties and bra. She wasn't at the club expecting to get with someone, otherwise she would've chosen something more...amorous.
Her name was Jennifer. I dunno what is was that first attracted me to her that night when I saw her. Perhaps it was her long, gorgeous brunette hair (I do kind of have a thing for brunettes...rawr.) Perhaps it was the naturally friendly and welcoming look in her eyes. Or perhaps it was that fucking lech who was forcing himself upon her. An old fashioned papa's boy from the look of it. Emphasis on ~boy.~ I refuse to refer to the person who came to her last night as a man. He had the look down to a T. Expensive-ass suit. A veritable cloud of cologne around him, enough to make your eyes water. A smug little grin....ooooh, I just wanted to punch that fuckboy so hard, hard enough to where you could hear his jaw crack in half. But I didn't. I didn't need to stoop to his level. I looked at the two of them from across the bar, noticed the warm smile disappear from her face as their conversation kept going. Couldn't hear a word of what they were saying, but I knew it wasn't good. So I acted. I got up out of my seat, informed the bouncer of what was going on. As soon as I sat back down, he motioned over to the fuckboy in question and got him away from the girl. That's when I made the first direct move on her.
When going after women in the way I do, it's of the utmost importance that you get a read on if they'll consent to leaving with you. It's a truth I have to face, not every woman I meet will be into other women. I get that, and as disappointing as it probably will be to me, I've come to always respect their decision either way. It's sadly happened more times then I'd care to admit. Luckily for me on this night, ole' Jennifer was completely into everything I was giving. As soon as I sat down to introduce myself I could see a flirtatious little grin grow on her face.
Tiffany: What an asshole. I bet you're glad they got him away when they did.
Jennifer: Tell me about it. Asshole kept calling me "Honey." Almost got me to take out the pepper spray.
Tiffany: Ah, the old pepper spray. Man's greatest creation against himself, wouldn't you agree?
Jennifer: Amen girl, amen!
We each took a shot (I took the man's drink he had left) and chinked a cheers, then downed the shots.
Tiffany: The name's Tiffany, by the way. Tiffany White.
Jennifer: Jennifer. Nice to meet you Tiffany.
And then everything just went from there. We discussed a lot of shit, some of it light and funny, some of it heavy as all hell. We shared many details of our lives, exactly what I wanted to do. If I was gonna share anything with anyone tonight, let alone my body and a bed, I'd like to get to know them a little bit before the act. One of the things she told me was that she was an aspiring journalist.
Tiffany: A journalist, eh? What kind of journalism do you happen to dabble in?
Jennifer: Right now, just blogging and tweeting. Celebrity gossip and shit like that. Admittedly I mostly cover bottom-of-the-barrel stuff there, but it's not like I wanna stay doing that type of news all my life, y'know? I wanna cover the serious issues in the world, like...like wars, and disease, and shit that actually matters. Not The Kardashians or Bieber.
Tiffany: Would you be willing to report live from an active battlefield, knowingly risking your life, if it meant getting the best report possible.
She paused for a moment, pondered taking a sip from her drink, and decided against it as she thought of her answer.
Jennifer: If it was what needed to be done, then yes, I would.
I always enjoyed asking these questions after learning a bit about my potential companions. They always let me look at their thought processes and I always find the responses indicative of that person. From the specific response, I got the feeling that Jennifer didn't really feel this way, and to be fair to her, who would? She just said that to feel good about herself, and to convince her what she was doing now with the gossip blog would lead to something great. Not a totally uncommon way to feel. We both could feel the tension build after that, and she chose to bring up something way more silly. I wish I could remember it, I must've thought it was the funniest shit when she said it. Ah well.
Finally, after much more chat, I decided to drop the big Q on her.
Finally, after much more chat, I decided to drop the big Q on her.
Tiffany: So Jenn, I was thinking...I'm in town for the poker tournament in a couple days, and I'm staying at the Holiday Inn. I just wanted to ask if you had a place to stay for the night.
Jennifer: Well, I was gonna go home after this...
She turned her gaze to me, another really sly grin spreading.
Jennifer: ...but I don't think it'd kill me to spend the night at a Hotel.
I could go into more detail from here, but I'd rather leave some things to the imagination. Hehe.
Let's jump back to the morning after, shall we? The sunlight woke me up, slowly but surely. I was having a dream where I was the leader of like an all-female biker gang, kinda like Charlize Theron in that Mad Max movie. It was friggin amazing, but sadly the sun overpowered my will to stay asleep. I reluctantly got out of bed and slipped on my underwear on the side of the bed. I grabbed my phone off the endtable. 7:00 AM on the dot. The tournament was about 7 hours away, so this was actually perfect. The Raleigh Poker Invitational looked to be a rather local event, didn't look like it would last too long, and was smaller then the stuff I would usually do. I signed on for it because of the proximity to where my first Sunday Night Slam would be taped. I didn't expect to make too much out of it, but I just couldn't resist the idea of going up against some cocky bastard and take all his money. Best feeling in the world, I swear.
I began to get ready for a shower, when I heard Jennifer rustle about in bed, the sun having it's turn with her. Her voice had a cool, sleep inflection in it, not like the moaning from the night previous.
Let's jump back to the morning after, shall we? The sunlight woke me up, slowly but surely. I was having a dream where I was the leader of like an all-female biker gang, kinda like Charlize Theron in that Mad Max movie. It was friggin amazing, but sadly the sun overpowered my will to stay asleep. I reluctantly got out of bed and slipped on my underwear on the side of the bed. I grabbed my phone off the endtable. 7:00 AM on the dot. The tournament was about 7 hours away, so this was actually perfect. The Raleigh Poker Invitational looked to be a rather local event, didn't look like it would last too long, and was smaller then the stuff I would usually do. I signed on for it because of the proximity to where my first Sunday Night Slam would be taped. I didn't expect to make too much out of it, but I just couldn't resist the idea of going up against some cocky bastard and take all his money. Best feeling in the world, I swear.
I began to get ready for a shower, when I heard Jennifer rustle about in bed, the sun having it's turn with her. Her voice had a cool, sleep inflection in it, not like the moaning from the night previous.
Jennifer: Hey babe...what time is it?
Tiffany: 7 AM. Getting ready for a quick shower and then I'm heading out for Raleigh.
Jennifer: Poker or the other thing?
Tiffany: Poker.
Jennifer: And after that?
Tiffany: After that I'm staying a few more days for Slam, then I'll be on my way out.
She seemed a little bummed when I said I would be leaving, but I'm sure she knew deep down I wouldn't be staying. I felt a little sorry for her. She was a sweet one, I wouldn't say we fucked moreso then we made love. It was probably the best I had had in a while. I shot a look towards her...
Tiffany: About that shower...
That sly smile I loved about her reappeared. She knew what I was gonna ask before I even asked it. She got out of bed, lots of newfound energy, and locked in a steamy kiss. Again, I'll leave what happened after to the imagination.
I could see Hank Brown coming from all the way at the back of the convention center. He looked confused as to where he was supposed to go, not knowing where I was. I yelled out to him...
I could see Hank Brown coming from all the way at the back of the convention center. He looked confused as to where he was supposed to go, not knowing where I was. I yelled out to him...
Tiffany: OVER HERE, COLUMBO!
His head turned and saw me at the final table, up against two other guys, named Mark and Alex. He started making his way to the table, admist all the other players.
Tiffany: You can take one of the empty chairs. We can talk while I work.
He took the seat directly to the right of me, nervously staring at the other players. I was half expecting one of them to steal his lunch money and put it on the line against.
Hank: Tiffany White, I presume.
Tiffany: The One and Only. Nice to meet ya homes.
Hank: You really wanna do this now-
Tiffany: I can manage, I can manage.
Alex: Yeah buddy, she can manage!
Mark: Just like we're about to manage her!
Tiffany: Keep talking, fuckboy. I'll have you suckin my dick under table for chips after this hand.
Hank wasn't expecting such dialect out of my mouth, I could see he looked visibly shocked. Good. That's what I was hoping would happen. The dealer dealt two cards to the three of us. I peeked. I was smart enough to not smirk at the cards, even though they were probably my favorite pair in the whole deck. We all put up our first bets, only calling.
Hank: So Tiffany, you'll be stepping into the WCF ring for the first time this Sunday night in the opener. How does it feel to join the WCF family?
Tiffany: Feels good, man. Feels good. I can't wait to start taking these dudes to town. I mean it's not like I'm inexperienced on that front. Look at how bad these guys are getting chumped right now. These fuckboys, Jordan, Ronson, Brao and CVC, they are underestimating the fuck out of me right now. I know this. And because they are, that means there will be four highly blueballed guys after that opening match on Slam. And one very happy Tiffany White, hehe.
The dealer put down the flop. 7 and 9 of hearts, 5 of clubs. Doesn't do anything for me at the moment.
Hank: You're coming into the federation already a well established poker veteran. How do you feel this will translate to the ring.
Tiffany: It's funny, everyone always assume to do well in poker, you have to have nothing but luck, and nothing else matters. It's way, WAY more complicated then that. There are so many variables that need to be taken into consideration. Everyone has their tells that you look out for. That's why everyone wears shades at the table, to hide their eyes from everyone else. Some people are excellent at hiding them, some people put them on display. For instance, this guy Alex here, every time he has a good hand he strokes his chin. He didn't stroke it this hand, so I know if he puts up any big bets that he's bluffing and can take his chips.
Right on cue, Alex mucked his cards right across the table. Off suit 5 and 3. He huffed about it visibly, making me chuckle.
Tiffany: Right on cue. But you also gotta know the probabilities of every scenario. More math goes into this shit then you'd imagine. And that's why I am so fucking successful. Because I have a mind for this shit, I get into fuckboys heads, make this game more cerebral then it already is. Mark, right there? Shakin in his boots. He's trying to look cool and calm. Just a front. Fuckboys like him excel at putting up fronts.
Mark: Keep talking pretty face, you'll be eating those words in a few minutes.
We both checked. Dealer goes for The Turn. 9 of clubs.
Tiffany: So on the topic of fuckboys, Jordan Wolfram. He's an absolute fool of a boy. I've looked at your history, and your backstory. You poor, poor boy. Your father seems like the kind of fucker I'd love to exterminate myself, but luckily for me your mother already did that for me. I can see what you're trying to do. You want to be the holy man neither your father and mother couldn't be. You want GOD almighty to fix all your problems. The Big G. Became a priest and everything! You even went as far as to give up sex for it, just to be more holy. But Jordan, if I may be so bold as to ask you...do you really think God can fix all your problems? Do you think God can take away years of pain and suffering brought on by your father? Do you think God can miraculously heal your poor mother of her ailments? Do you think God can help you win against me on Sunday? If you do, then you've proven my point. There is no God, on this earth or any other, that will solve your problems, the least of which will be me. You gave up that delicious poon tang for nothing you fucking sod.
Lemme give you an idea of how bad your Sunday night will be. I want you to imagine your father on his worst, most drunken nights, and imagine him flying in the air hitting you with that moonsault shit. That's me. Whatever god you try to push on me I reject, I won't stoop to your level of foolishness and act like exists. ESPECIALLY if according to you, women can't be more then a nun in the church. I can't think of something more blatantly sexist then that. But that's okay, if women can't be equal in the church then I'll show just how equal we can be in the ring.
Mark put up a moderately big bet. I called easily.
Tiffany: Jordan isn't the only fuckboy misogynist in this match though. We also got Chance Von Crank here. I fucking hate you already Chance. Your first offense was calling your lady friend bitch. Acting like she's your goddamned property, and not a person. It's good though, to see WCF already has such a treasure trove of assholes to take down a peg. Do you really think you can teach me a lesson by giving me a black eye and "bringing back all my daddy issues." First off I love all the assumptions you have to make against me in your argument. You don't know anything about my past, I don't know anything about yours. I do know your a misanthropic redneck piece of human garbage, and that I at least have respect for women as human beings and not the apparent servant Pixie Paradoxx is, which might I add is an atrocious name, I'm sure you came up with it you horny fuck. I'll tell you this much, if I were a man I'd have enough self-respect to not sport that HIDEOUS mustache of yours. Or that fucking mullet.
I know you don't have many women in your neck of the woods who actually respect themselves, and I'm probably the first you've ever met. So let me put it like this. If you think I'm just gonna bow down to you and let you beat me just because you have a dick, you're sadly mistaken. By the time I'm down with you you'll be coming home to Pixie saying "I'm sorry girl, I done treated you wrong, but now I've seen the power that women hold." You'll be lucky if I even allow to stay in this fed and not send you packing right away. You think I'm just some "dike bitch?" Well to you I say, try your fucking best, I'll destroy you and show you the truth about dike bitches like me.
The dealer dealt The River. Queen of clubs. Mark checked, I put up a small bet.
Tiffany: I guess while we're on the topic of assholes there's also Asshole Ronson. More like Coward Ronson to me. I can't believe people like you exist, waiting until someone's already fucking verbally murdered you to try and get a word in edgewise. That won't do you any favors here you fuck. In this day and age, once you're slandered, it's already too late.
It would do you some good to learn how to land the first strike. But that's too much for you? You'd prefer to lurk in the shadows, observing. Get the fuck outta here with that. What's worse is you need a so-called "mouthpiece" to do the legwork for you. Your entire persona is based off telling people like it is....and yet you have sidekick who does that for you? Grade-A fuckboy, this one is.
You want beef Ronson? You remember that commercial, "Where's the beef?" THIS is the fucking beef. I'll slice and dice you in the ring then make you into chop suey. I bet you like those BBQ ribs at Chile's, but not after I fucking crack your own ribs in the ring Sunday. I hope you don't mind getting grilled in a few days, cause your ass on Sunday night is getting served.
And lastly, Brao Kitt. A model turned wrestler, just as I'm a poker player turned wrestler. Only I don't think Brao even considered training before signing on, considering his finisher is nothing but a lowly punch to the jaw. That shit? Appetizer. My Moonsault? Main course. But I don't think "actually being good" was high on his priority list considering he seems to put more importance on gaining the acceptance of four year olds by giving them candy then, y'know, winning. I'd imagine with his reported "mental issues" I could get away with wearing a Brao Kitt mask Sunday and get him to forfeit "because he doesn't want to tarnish the beauty of his opponent." A true Narcissus. Don't be surprised if I try to do it, either.
Brao, you're not much longer for this company. After Slam I'm sure you'll be taken away by the authorities and committed to an asylum. Would hopefully do you some good. Hopefully.
Hank nodded in his chair, having merely been observing everything up until now.
Hank: Wow. So much confidence in a rookie. Impressive. Any final words for your opponents?
Tiffany: Only this. UNDERESTIMATE ME. Do it, fucks. See what happens. Or else you'll end up like Mark here in a few seconds.
Mark tapped his chin twice, ever so slightly, hoping my ranting would distract me from it. It didn't, I saw it in full display. His own tell.
Mark: All in.
Tiffany: Call.
Mark smirked at me. He revealed his hand. 7 and 6 of clubs.
Mark: Two pair, honey.
Perfect. I revealed my hand. Mark saw them and almost fell out of his chair.
Tiffany: Pocket Queens. Three of a kind, honey. Now about that dick-sucking under the table?
