Post by Tiffany White on Mar 27, 2016 14:43:03 GMT -5
PROMO #12 - 2000 lIGHTYEARS aWAY
Mmmmmmmmmmmm.
Her image was imprinted in my memory, stuck there like a glue. A few days before I would see her at Explosion, but dammit, even a few days seemed like an eternity. She was probably in the same damn hotel I was, but that fact didn't comfort me at all. In my mindset, a few floors might as well have been a whole different planet. It wasn't like I could even approach her, considering our current...situation.
I was laying in bed, clad in the most comfortable t-shirt/sweats combo money can buy. Victoria was in the shower at this moment, having just gotten in a few seconds ago. The water probably wasn't even hot yet. Usually the thought of her naked, wet, nubile body would be enough to get my juices flowing. But even she was being overpowered...by her. It felt wrong. So wrong. But fuck it, when have I been known for doing the right thing anyway.
Finally, my better judgement lost out. I grabbed my nearby laptop, opened it out of it's slumber, and after doing some quick snooping (what they say is true, you really can find anything on the internet) I was drafting an e-mail to her.
Hello Ms. Miyamoto.
I don't think we've had the pleasure of meeting face to face yet. That disappoints me a little bit, if I can be candid. I usually don't do this sort of thing, I enjoy being more...direct. But for you, I'll make an exception.
It shouldn't surprise you, but I took the liberty of watching the videos your...ahem...client Shadowlove put out. I watched them long and hard. I'm sure you and your friend said some pretty mean things about me. I take none of it personal. After all, isn't that the business we all signed up to be in? I take none of what you two said to heart...if I was paying attention in the first place. Because I was enthralled by something much...much more captivating, Miyamoto-sama. You.
Perhaps it's my already established affinity for Japanese women, but if I were to see you having never stepped foot in a WCF ring, and just remaining Tiffany White, Professional Poker Player...I swear, your beauty would just be overwhelming. Sadly because I'm fighting your man Shadowlove any love that would blossom between us would be forbidden. Usually I'm not the one to condone leaving a partner for the sake of getting me off, because as much as I would usually like that sort of thing, I have to have some standards. But like most things, with you I'm willing to make an exception.
When your free of Shadowlove's company, and you want to truly know what ecstasy feels like, then come to my room at the Holiday Inn. It should be easy to find out what room it is. From there it can go one of three ways.
1. You and I make the sweetest, most vanilla love you can think of, and eventually we'll cum at the same time in a moment of pure bliss.
2. We take a more "exploring our bodies" route, and focus more on just enjoying each others company.
3. We give in to our animalistic urges and just straight up FUCK each other. Biting, roughness, hard...hard spanking. You name it. Just pure, primal intercourse.
It makes no difference to me which route you choose, I can handle myself in all of them
.
Perhaps by doin' the deed with me you'll realize how bad you have it now with Shadowlove. Because trust me, you can only upgrade from him, Miyamoto-sama.
I eagerly await your response with bated breath and sticky fingers.
- Tiffany White
(P.S: I have a young companion with me. Possible three-way perhaps?)
Jesus fucking Christ. For some reason that had gotten me more excited then I had thought. My heart was beating like crazy from the excitement of it all, and I hadn't even really done anything yet. Still, even with this message staring me right in the face, I still debated whether it would be right of me to even send this. Like I said in the e-mail, I never usually condoned this type of shit. This was just so unlike me. My cursor hovered over the exit button, almost ready to click it...
...but a single second later, that same cursor was pointing over the "send" button.
*CLICK*
At this point what was the worst thing that could happen, amiright? She'll cut a shoot on me? If her current shoots against were any indication of her mic skills it wouldn't be much to worry about.
As I put the laptop back down to the ground and readjusting myself in bed, Victoria emerged from the bathroom, all dried off and ready for bed.
Mmmmmmmmmmmm.
Her image was imprinted in my memory, stuck there like a glue. A few days before I would see her at Explosion, but dammit, even a few days seemed like an eternity. She was probably in the same damn hotel I was, but that fact didn't comfort me at all. In my mindset, a few floors might as well have been a whole different planet. It wasn't like I could even approach her, considering our current...situation.
I was laying in bed, clad in the most comfortable t-shirt/sweats combo money can buy. Victoria was in the shower at this moment, having just gotten in a few seconds ago. The water probably wasn't even hot yet. Usually the thought of her naked, wet, nubile body would be enough to get my juices flowing. But even she was being overpowered...by her. It felt wrong. So wrong. But fuck it, when have I been known for doing the right thing anyway.
Finally, my better judgement lost out. I grabbed my nearby laptop, opened it out of it's slumber, and after doing some quick snooping (what they say is true, you really can find anything on the internet) I was drafting an e-mail to her.
Hello Ms. Miyamoto.
I don't think we've had the pleasure of meeting face to face yet. That disappoints me a little bit, if I can be candid. I usually don't do this sort of thing, I enjoy being more...direct. But for you, I'll make an exception.
It shouldn't surprise you, but I took the liberty of watching the videos your...ahem...client Shadowlove put out. I watched them long and hard. I'm sure you and your friend said some pretty mean things about me. I take none of it personal. After all, isn't that the business we all signed up to be in? I take none of what you two said to heart...if I was paying attention in the first place. Because I was enthralled by something much...much more captivating, Miyamoto-sama. You.
Perhaps it's my already established affinity for Japanese women, but if I were to see you having never stepped foot in a WCF ring, and just remaining Tiffany White, Professional Poker Player...I swear, your beauty would just be overwhelming. Sadly because I'm fighting your man Shadowlove any love that would blossom between us would be forbidden. Usually I'm not the one to condone leaving a partner for the sake of getting me off, because as much as I would usually like that sort of thing, I have to have some standards. But like most things, with you I'm willing to make an exception.
When your free of Shadowlove's company, and you want to truly know what ecstasy feels like, then come to my room at the Holiday Inn. It should be easy to find out what room it is. From there it can go one of three ways.
1. You and I make the sweetest, most vanilla love you can think of, and eventually we'll cum at the same time in a moment of pure bliss.
2. We take a more "exploring our bodies" route, and focus more on just enjoying each others company.
3. We give in to our animalistic urges and just straight up FUCK each other. Biting, roughness, hard...hard spanking. You name it. Just pure, primal intercourse.
It makes no difference to me which route you choose, I can handle myself in all of them
.Perhaps by doin' the deed with me you'll realize how bad you have it now with Shadowlove. Because trust me, you can only upgrade from him, Miyamoto-sama.
I eagerly await your response with bated breath and sticky fingers.
- Tiffany White
(P.S: I have a young companion with me. Possible three-way perhaps?)
Jesus fucking Christ. For some reason that had gotten me more excited then I had thought. My heart was beating like crazy from the excitement of it all, and I hadn't even really done anything yet. Still, even with this message staring me right in the face, I still debated whether it would be right of me to even send this. Like I said in the e-mail, I never usually condoned this type of shit. This was just so unlike me. My cursor hovered over the exit button, almost ready to click it...
...but a single second later, that same cursor was pointing over the "send" button.
*CLICK*
At this point what was the worst thing that could happen, amiright? She'll cut a shoot on me? If her current shoots against were any indication of her mic skills it wouldn't be much to worry about.
As I put the laptop back down to the ground and readjusting myself in bed, Victoria emerged from the bathroom, all dried off and ready for bed.
Victoria: Damn girl, I could hear you typing over the damn shower! What's goin on?
Tiffany: Oh nothing. Just messaging a friend. Now get your sweet ass over here while I'm still in the mood.
And then...well, we did things. Hehe
But I'm getting ahead of myself again. I really shouldd learn to stop that. Let's take this back a few days, shall we?
But I'm getting ahead of myself again. I really shouldd learn to stop that. Let's take this back a few days, shall we?
It's the night of March 21st, 2016, and as I'm prone to do with my life sometimes, I had overdone it just a little bit.
The night before, on the final Slam before Explosion, I did what no other WCF Wrestler could do. I ended the three month title reign of Stuart Slane, just as promised. I thought that this would a moment of celebration. Sadly, it wasn't. I went fuckin overboard in the delivery of the Pocket Queens and ended up injuring Slane before I could pin him, leaving the title vacant. It was a dumb thing to do on my part, I could be at least that self aware. All I wanted was the belt, I didn't want to put the dude on the shelf. It would feel wrong to not at least do something about it.
It was the wee hours of the morning, probably around 2 AM. By now most of the WCF Roster had already made their way to Chicago to prepare for Explosion. I decided to stay behind, though. I could tell it was bugging Victoria, as she sat in the passenger seat of our rental, a envelope between us resting in the console, her seat fully reclined back. She wanted to get back on the road ASAP so we could move on from this whole incident.
Victoria: Seriously Tiff, we're just wasting our time at this point. Slane already has enough sympathy from the fans, he doesn't need any pleasantries from you.
Tiffany: I don't care, 'Tori. This shit's getting done now.
Victoria: What are you even gonna SAY to the guy you just gave a concussion to? Sorry? I don't think a simple "Mah b" is gonna cover this one, girl.
Tiffany: You don't think I don't already know that, 'Tori? Truth be told, I dunno what the fuck I will say to him once I'm there, or if he'll even be conscious enough to hear me. But I'mma still try.
She looked at me from her (literally) laid back position, as if she was seeing a side ofm e she had never seen before.
Tiffany: What's the matter? You've got something on your mind.
Victoria: It's just, I not used to seeing you like this. Usually when you get screwed over you get fuckin mad as hell.
What she said was the absolute truth, I had to giver her that. This was just another installment in a long line of instances where I got fucked over a rightful victory in the ring, and it should've been getting to me. But it didn't.
Tiffany: Well 'Tori, this time is different.
Victoria: How so?
Tiffany: This time I can say without a doubt, it was actually my fault. Unless your name is Chance von Crank, I don't step into the ring with people purposefully looking to end their careers. That's just barbaric, and I'd like to think I'm better then that. All I wanted was Slane's TV Title, I didn't want to give him a concussion! I'm lucky that his estate isn't suing the pants off me right now.
Victoria: So what, you're just gonna walk in and say sorry? That's it? You've got better things to worry about Tiff, like winning on Sunday.
Tiffany: Maybe. But I know if I don't at least try then it'll stick with me, and lord knows I don't need more bullshit on my mental. You feel me?
Victoria: Yeah...I feel you.
After a minute or so more of driving, we finally arrived at the hospital Slane was in. I pulled the car up close to thee entrance and killed the engine.
Tiffany: I'll try not to be too long, you just get some sleep now, okay?
Victoria: Already on it.
After a short nod to her, I was on my way inside, envelope in hand. Surprisingly for a late Sunday/early Monday, the place seemed busy as all sorts of workers made their way in and out, all doing their jobs. Thankfully no one seemed to really be in the waiting room, and I was able to easily make my way to the receptionist desk. This girl, I won't lie, was a pretty young thing. She had a very humble beauty, not the type of beauty reserved for like underwear models and shit. No, this girl like someone you could take home to mom and dad. Sadly her beauty was ravaged by heeeeeeeeavy fucking bags under her eyes. She must've been working some long, shitty hours. She took her eyes off her computer as she noticed me standing on the opposite side of her desk.
Receptionist: Can I help you?
Tiffany: Yes, I'm looking a patient named Stuart Slane, would you have any idea where his room is? It's really urgent.
She let out a heavy groan.
Receptionist: Ma'am, I don't think I need to tell you this, but we're not observing visitors right now.
Tiffany: I understand that, I really do, but this seriously cannot wait, I have to be in Chicago soon, this is the only chance I have to see him.
Receptionist: I'm sorry, but rules are rules ma'am.
Well shit. This was a pickle. After some quick thinking though, I figured out a way that could maybe get me what I needed.
Tiffany: What's your pay like? If you don't mind me asking.
She seemed flustered at such a personal question.
Receptionist: I don't think this is the time nor place to talk about that kind of stuff, ma'am.
Tiffany: C'mon, just humor me for a sec.
Receptionist: Fine. My pay is...decent, I guess. I'm still in med school though, so I barely have any spending money cause tuition sucks.
I nodded, and started going through the contents of the envelope. After counting for a bit, I took out 5 $100 bills and laid them on the receptionist's desk. She was appropriately stunned. Just the reaction I was looking for.
Tiffany: There, that should be enough spending money to get you whatever you need.
Receptionist: I...I don't know what to say.
Tiffany: I do. The room number of one Stuart Slane, please.
Receptionist: Stuart Slane...
Her fingers began furiously typing at her keyboard, as she searched for the info I was basically bribing her for.
Receptionist: Room 407 ma'am.
I flashed a nice, teethy smile at her.
Tiffany: Thanks. And by the way, Tiffany is fine.
There he was. Stuart Slane, in all his unconscious glory. Either that or he was fast asleep. It didn't seem likely that I would be able to have a direct conversation with him. But I didn't come this far just to give up, sso hoping he could somehow hear me, I just started talking to him.
Tiffany: Hi Stuart, it's me Tiffany. I know I'm probably the last person you wanted to hear from, and I totally get that, you have every right to be angry at me if you want to be. I just wanted to stop by and say I'm sorry for the shit that went down. That probably doesn't mean a whole lot, but I just needed to say it. Even though I spent the past week shit talking you, I didn't walk into that ring with the intent of putting you out of action. I just got careless and fucked up my move. You're a tough guy Stu, and I'm sure you would've wanted to go down like a fighting champion instead of...well, instead of like this. I'll make it up to you on Sunday. Seth put me in a TV Title match against Shadowlove. I'm gonna go out there and shit talk Shadowlove, and brag about how I ended both your title reign and your career, cause that's what the fans expect me to say. I know my role in this fucked up WCF Galaxy, and I'll play it with gusto. But you'll know. If you can hear anything I say, deep down you'll know how I really feel. Once I beat Shadowlove and win the belt for real, I'm gonna make this whole mess worth something.
I glanced at the envelope of cash still in my hand one last time before setting it down near Stuart's hands for him to notice when he woke up.
Tiffany: I still play in poker tournaments to pass the time I'm not training, and I've managed to get some pretty good cash along the way. Stuart, I hope you can hear me. Take this money. Take it back to Mexico with you and use it to help those children. They need it way more then I do.
I turned and slowly made my way to the door. Before crossing the threshold, I turned to see Stu's silent, still body on final time, then walked away.
It was finally time.
I had made sure to dress appropriately for this address. Ripped up jeans, Nirvana T-Shirt, and a leather jacket. The exact opposite of the nice, fancy wardrobe of Shadowlove. I stood in front of the WCF Backdrop, mic in hand. Hank Brown was nowhere in sight. I was doing all of this shit on my own.
The red light on the camera sprung to life. Showtime, bitches.
It was finally time.
I had made sure to dress appropriately for this address. Ripped up jeans, Nirvana T-Shirt, and a leather jacket. The exact opposite of the nice, fancy wardrobe of Shadowlove. I stood in front of the WCF Backdrop, mic in hand. Hank Brown was nowhere in sight. I was doing all of this shit on my own.
The red light on the camera sprung to life. Showtime, bitches.
Tiffany: So, we finally meet Mr. Shadowlove. Explosion, one on one, for the WCF Television Title. I bet you've been waiting for this for a long time. Ever since you beat Emeka for that number one contender title so long ago. You've been aching for this, BEGGING for this. Haven't you, you narcissistic little asshole?
That's all you care for, isn't it? You couldn't give a damn more about this belt or this whole company if you tried. You're only in this to give yourself more name exposure. I looked up your bio on the WCF Website, and on it you claimed you were a "charismatic and well-known public figure." Is that so? Cause I find that very, VERY hard to believe. I mean, I've never heard of you until now. Just exactly what are you known for, Mr. Famous Public Figure? Are you an actor? We already got one, his name is John Gable and he fucking sucks, just like you. Are you a politician? We had one, his name was Bobby Cairo and he's fucking dead right now. Are you just a rich idiot with no fucking day job? God knows this place has had a lot of those over the years. Eric Price, Jonny Fly, Gravedigger, the list goes on and on, and I won't waste my time.
Here's my point dude, it doesn't matter just what the fuck you actually are, we've had people like you come in through those doors before you. You're not original, you're not anything we haven't seen before, you're a fucking copy of what came before you. So while in your mind you're trying to get more people to recognize you as the famous star you think you are, I know better. I know you're just trying to get your name out there period. You don't care about a damn thing as long as people know the name Shadowlove. But lemme tell you buddy, that name ain't worth a DAMN in this federation.
You're the type of asshole who thinks that showing up out of the fuckin blue in this federation with barely any training will get you anywhere. Oh it's just a cheap performance type deal. You go out, make the crowd happy for a few minutes and get shiny belts. How easy is that? People like you don't take into consideration how fucking dangerous this business is. That's something that I learned first hand. Cause while you were mucking around in the absolutely pointless Wildcard Battle Royal at Timebomb, I was in the tournament itself in the most brutal match of the night. Another match earlier in the night made someone FUCKING DIE.
You think this is a fucking joke Shadow? I go out there and whoop ass cause I know if I don't that it'll be me getting my ass kicked. I've felt firsthand how violent this federation is, how it makes people do terrible...terrible things. I had to sit and listen as a woman lost her fucking child because of the whims of some redneck asshole. I failed her in that moment, and paid for it dearly. A human life didn't enter this world because of my shortcomings. I vowed to fuck Chance up in that cage as vengeance. And what did you do in that battle royal, meanwhile? You hit like two moves and got eliminated. GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY FACE WITH THAT SHIT.
You want even more proof of how brutal this biz is? Just look at last week. Slane walked into that ring confident he could beat me cause I was a chick, and the motherfucker got a concussion for his efforts. A dominant as hell TV Title reign. Ended because of one mistake in the ring. Now look at him. He's out of the WCF once again, fuck we may NEVER see him in the ring again after that. Those kids of his in Mexico will be asking the adults "Where's Stuart?" And they'll stammer as they try to explain why he isn't there. Children in need are now left without a leader, and the WCF is down one champion.
All because...of just ONE...mistake.
People were beginning to hype up Slane as the most dominant champ in a while. Week in and week out he went in that ring champion, and walked out of it still champ. Whispers began echoing in the WCFF Galaxy. Just WHO could take this man down? WHO could end this man's reign? WHO would be our next Television Champion?
They now have their answer. White, Tiffany.
How fucking crushing is it Shadow? Knowing you won't be the one who ended Slane's reign. All that pent up excitement being number one contender. You wanted to be "THE ONE." How painful the sudden realization of mediocrity must feel, I can only imagine. I can just picture your inner thoughts now. "I'M GONNA DO IT! I'M GONNA PUT MY NAME ON THE MAP AND SHOW EVERYONE I'M A TRUE BADASS." Well lemme tell you something Shadow. I don't give a good goddamn what you do in this federation. You could win WAR, Ultimate Showdown, The Trilogy Cup, the WCF Classic, the Trios Cup, TELEVISION CHAMPION OF THE YEAR, WORLD CHAMPION OF THE YEAR, WRESTLER OF THE YEAR, ALL WITHIN THE SAME YEAR, AND THEN WIN THE MAIN EVENT OF NEXT YEAR'S ONE.
I will never...
...EVER...
...EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVER...
...consider a man who lost to a guy named "Rage Maxx" in his debut a badass.
EVER.
I'm going to tell you this right now Shadow, just so you don't get your hopes up for nothing. This match between us? This is merely a formality. The outcome is already to all of us. Yes, even deep down inside you know it too. You know it, you just don't want to admit it.
I AM THE ONE WHO ENDED SLANE'S REIGN
I AM THE ONE WHO PUT HIM OUT OF ACTION
I AM THE RIGHTFUL TELEVISION CHAMPION
and if you don't get some sense in you soon....
...I AM GONNA BE THE ONE TO END YOUR WHOLE DAMN CAREER.
Now how's that for a "militant little girl?"
The dream had finally come back to me. It had been a long time since the last time I had had it. I had thought it had finally stopped for good. Oh how wrong I was.
Prom night. I dream of that one night all those years ago. Her and I together, dancing. Leaning into each other and whispering sweet nothings into the ears of the other.
"You look so beautiful in that dress."
"Let's stay like this forever."
"Just imagine our future together."
"I've wanted this for so long."
"I love you."
Sounds like pure bliss, doesn't it? Nevermind the fact that that's not how it went down at all. No, that night wasn't all slow dances and good times. It was a night of awkwardness, screaming, and finally...tears. No other singular event in my life defined who I was then that night. About a month later after graduation I took my car and drove off into the Nevada desert looking for somewhere, ANYwhere to go.
And just like it always does, this dream led me to her Facebook page. I was in the parking lot of the Chicago gym I was using for Explosion, seating in the driver's seat looking at her profile picture. It was her and a man, probably her boyfriend. Both were smiling. I would like to imagine their relationship was a happy one. I wasn't friends with her on Facebook, there was no way I would muster up the courage to do something like that. I fucked everything up, and now she was out of my life. While the distance between us was many miles at this point, it felt like we were 2000 lightyears away from each other.
Every now and again I got this urge to send her a message. This urge came back, and like clockwork, I was on the messenger app, composing.
Hi. It's me Tiff.
How've you been? From looking at your pictures you seem happy. I'm glad for you. I hope your brother is still in the military, I knew he made you so proud the night he enlisted.
I'm doing okay myself, I suppose. I have a job where people see me every week on TV, and I make good money doing it. I've made a few friends here and there, but there are some people who just don't like me. Go figure.
Look, I know it's been a long time, and we didn't leave off on the best of terms, but if you ever feel like reconnecting, all you have to do is ask for my number. I'm never too busy to talk. I hope to hear from you soon.
Much Love,
Tiffany.
The words stared me in the face. For an eternity it hovered over the send button...
...but before I could send it out, I had a change of heart. I selected all the text in the message, and with one...
*BACKSPACE*
...the words were gone.
And just like it always does, this dream led me to her Facebook page. I was in the parking lot of the Chicago gym I was using for Explosion, seating in the driver's seat looking at her profile picture. It was her and a man, probably her boyfriend. Both were smiling. I would like to imagine their relationship was a happy one. I wasn't friends with her on Facebook, there was no way I would muster up the courage to do something like that. I fucked everything up, and now she was out of my life. While the distance between us was many miles at this point, it felt like we were 2000 lightyears away from each other.
Every now and again I got this urge to send her a message. This urge came back, and like clockwork, I was on the messenger app, composing.
Hi. It's me Tiff.
How've you been? From looking at your pictures you seem happy. I'm glad for you. I hope your brother is still in the military, I knew he made you so proud the night he enlisted.
I'm doing okay myself, I suppose. I have a job where people see me every week on TV, and I make good money doing it. I've made a few friends here and there, but there are some people who just don't like me. Go figure.
Look, I know it's been a long time, and we didn't leave off on the best of terms, but if you ever feel like reconnecting, all you have to do is ask for my number. I'm never too busy to talk. I hope to hear from you soon.
Much Love,
Tiffany.
The words stared me in the face. For an eternity it hovered over the send button...
...but before I could send it out, I had a change of heart. I selected all the text in the message, and with one...
*BACKSPACE*
...the words were gone.
