"Blood, Sweat, and Tears"
By Ashley The Princess.
================================
I do not own the rights to Raven or any other wrestling personalities mentioned in this story. The only character I do have ownership over is Tash Rankin. Please do not use Tash in any other stories without permission from myself. For permission, contact 'ifemmeifataie@aol.com'. Also, do not reproduce this story on any site without permission.
================================
The following story has been rated PG-13 for sexual references, violence, gore, violence towards women, and dramatic scenes. If any of thise offends you, please do not continue on. This story has been dedicated to my good friend, John, who has inspired me in so many ways and has never sugar coated anything for me. His honest opinion and encouragement has always been appreciated.
================================
" I want a match," those simple words were uttered from tender lips in her common New Yorker accent as she stood before the man from the Bowery himself. Locks of chin-length black hair were pushed away from in front of that pale face as she waited anxiously for his reply.
The sudden vocals knocked him out of his deep thoughts of hate and self-pity as he found himself peering up at her. She was no stick figure diva like the rest... she had to be about 5'10" and was pretty muscular, though not to the hideous extent of Chyna or Nicole Bass. Upon closer examination, he came to notice that cauliflower ear and somewhat crooked nose. She was a scrapper and had the physical deformities to prove it. "In this life, everyone wants to succeed in their chosen destiny... yet, for you to come here and challenge me has me wondering if you are like everyone else. You have just chosen your own form of professional suicide just after one day on the job. Are you ready to experience Raven's Clockwork Orange House of Fun?"
" Mmmm? Oh... Yes, of course. I'm not an idiot, Cyka, and neither are you. I didn't pick you at random... I studied hours upon hours of video tape. I may know you better than yourself at this point. I look forward to smashing a chair over your head... or perhaps you doing the same to me. "
Cyka? He had to think that one over in his head for a moment. He had one of the most sophisticated vocabularies you'd ever find, but that went right over his head. Then it hit him, Tash was of Russian heritage, and although she lacked the accent, it was common knowledge she spoke the language fluently. He'd have to look up that phrase later. As for her other remarks, they prompted a sadistic smrik to come to his rough features. If what she said was the truth, he may very well be in store for some fun.
"I certainly hope so. Quote the Raven, Nevermore."
And with that, the strange woman known as Tash Rankin took her leave to prepare for the upcoming battle of wits and bodies.
By Ashley The Princess.
================================
I do not own the rights to Raven or any other wrestling personalities mentioned in this story. The only character I do have ownership over is Tash Rankin. Please do not use Tash in any other stories without permission from myself. For permission, contact 'ifemmeifataie@aol.com'. Also, do not reproduce this story on any site without permission.
================================
The following story has been rated PG-13 for sexual references, violence, gore, violence towards women, and dramatic scenes. If any of thise offends you, please do not continue on. This story has been dedicated to my good friend, John, who has inspired me in so many ways and has never sugar coated anything for me. His honest opinion and encouragement has always been appreciated.
================================
" I want a match," those simple words were uttered from tender lips in her common New Yorker accent as she stood before the man from the Bowery himself. Locks of chin-length black hair were pushed away from in front of that pale face as she waited anxiously for his reply.
The sudden vocals knocked him out of his deep thoughts of hate and self-pity as he found himself peering up at her. She was no stick figure diva like the rest... she had to be about 5'10" and was pretty muscular, though not to the hideous extent of Chyna or Nicole Bass. Upon closer examination, he came to notice that cauliflower ear and somewhat crooked nose. She was a scrapper and had the physical deformities to prove it. "In this life, everyone wants to succeed in their chosen destiny... yet, for you to come here and challenge me has me wondering if you are like everyone else. You have just chosen your own form of professional suicide just after one day on the job. Are you ready to experience Raven's Clockwork Orange House of Fun?"
" Mmmm? Oh... Yes, of course. I'm not an idiot, Cyka, and neither are you. I didn't pick you at random... I studied hours upon hours of video tape. I may know you better than yourself at this point. I look forward to smashing a chair over your head... or perhaps you doing the same to me. "
Cyka? He had to think that one over in his head for a moment. He had one of the most sophisticated vocabularies you'd ever find, but that went right over his head. Then it hit him, Tash was of Russian heritage, and although she lacked the accent, it was common knowledge she spoke the language fluently. He'd have to look up that phrase later. As for her other remarks, they prompted a sadistic smrik to come to his rough features. If what she said was the truth, he may very well be in store for some fun.
"I certainly hope so. Quote the Raven, Nevermore."
And with that, the strange woman known as Tash Rankin took her leave to prepare for the upcoming battle of wits and bodies.