Title: Recipe for Disaster
Author: Steffie
Rating: R
Summary: Well, not everything can come out right when you follow the recipe. Especially when the chef is a scorned woman.
Category: Wrestling
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this story.
Monday Night Raw.
As expected, I am not on the line up. I haven't been on the line up for about 3 weeks now. Yet I am compelled to come every week. If it wasn't for Lita keeping me busy by helping her warm up, I swear to God I would have been fired by now for beating the shit out of one of these whores. I don't see why though, I consider that a productive workout.
"Hey honey! How was your weekend?" That voice is enough to break my eardrums. I'll admit, she was nice to me, but I think I mistake stupid for nice with her. Maria, currently a redhead comes up to me and nearly topples me over with a hug. If her chest wasn't that inflated, she might have been able to hug me tighter. I had managed to block out her incoherent babbling. It was a feat that took me weeks to perfect. I don't think I have ever seen her dress that horrible. She had on some rather funny looking blue suit. I believe she said something about shooting t-shirts out of a gun for the audience tonight. I don't know, frankly I don't care.
No, that's a lie. I do care.
It ticks me off when she starts twirling her hair. It amazes me how stupid she really is. Just the idea of that stupid facial expression that she puts up is enough for me to shove my fist down her throat. Luckily for her, Bubba Ray Dudley interrupts me before I could entertain the thought any further. Bastard.
"Hey ladies." He politely says. "Hi Bobby!" Maria screeches. I couldn't help but roll my eyes, and by the look on Bubba's face, he couldn't blame me for it. But I could tell the reason he was here was for her.
"Listen Maria, I have a proposition for you when you go out to the ring with that T-Shirt gun," Bubba began. "I want you to call out Randy Orton to the ring, and I know you don't like him." I could tell that Bubba had an evil plan, and he was trying to say it as simple as possible. Bimbos like Maria only understood simple first grade language. Much like Paris Hilton.
"No I don't like him. Quite frankly I think he deserves to be eaten by weasels," Maria pouted. Grrr, that pout just ticked me off even more. I wanted to just remove myself from the conversation, but deep down I knew that Bubba needed me there to keep himself from strangling the bitch. Funny, I needed him for the same reason. That's what I love about Bubba. He was one of the few men here in the WWE that I don't have to worry about when it comes to these bitches. I'll make an exception about Trish way back when.
As Bubba explains to her what he wants her to do, I notice the other diva search rejects in the back. One of the blond ones is standing against the wall, twirling her hair and biting her lower lip, gazing oh so desperately in Dave Batista's eyes. I notice her moving her leg in such a motion that forces her skirt to hike up. Oldest trick in the book. Even I used that damn move back when I was lovestruck. Thankfully for me, my brain cells kicked into gear soon after.
Does peroxide kill brain cells? Must be. I cant find any other reason as to why these sluts act this way.
"But what's the catch here?" Maria pouts. That screeching tone that sounds worse than nails on a chalkboard bring me back to the conversation. I could now tell by Bubba's tone that he was getting impatient with her. Funny, I was expecting him to turn into bimbo killer much faster at this point.
"I am trying to explain the catch so you don't have to stand around here and wonder what it is Maria." Hearing him grit his teeth was kinda funny. His attempts to educate her were extremely entertaining and annoying all at the same time.
"I know what you should go for. It'll hurt him. Bad." Maria exclaimed. After a few moments, she skipped off, hopefully she wouldn't forget what to do in 5 minutes.
"Why do you even bother?" I asked. Bubba shrugged. "I am trying to make proper use of them without having them strip off their clothes," he proudly said. He then went off to his dressing room, but not before kissing me atop my head and telling me I looked fabulous in my new leather jacket. He noticed that I looked a little different today and that I had a new outfit, albeit in a style that I don't normally wear. I used to get a lot of those comments from my friends and fellow co-workers before we got infested with pests. Now everybody notices what you DON'T have on.
Hell, Stacy Keibler's ass couldn't even turn heads anymore. Surprisingly, I don't hate Stacy. On the contrary, she is a nice girl and she does actively try and be productive in the ring. She herself admits that she isn't cut out for the ring, but she tries. And she herself stood up to management and stated she wouldn't be exploited in storylines if it couldn't help excel other female wrestlers. She got my respect right there, but not before I roughed her up in the ring.
There are a few things about Candice that I can't stand. Other then her existence is the fact that she feels the need to sing her damn entrance music AND, the worst part is she feels the need to dance and put up sex faces to it too. I think she noticed my looks of disgust as I grabbed a donut from the table.
"I am practicing my entrance," she says to me, in a kind of shitty tone too might I add. Her mother never thought her manners it seemed.
"You don't need to make an entrance, you need to make an impression," I just as shitty reply back to her. Her gasp of shock was so big that I think it cracked the layers of her lipstick. Before she could berate me I push past her to the ladies locker room.
Once I get to my place of solace, I can tell that I am not the only one irritated. I don't know how we managed to be so blessed, but we, the actual wrestling women get a dressing room SEPARATE from the diva ring rat bitches. Granted, we don't have as many luxurious items, but all we needed is each other.
Victoria is pissed. I can't really blame her. I saw the schedule. One of the blond rejects gets a clean pin over her in a 2-minute match. Shame, absolute shame. Don't let the tv persona fool you. Vicky really is that crazy. The fucked up bitch once nearly bit my head off when she thought me and her boy-toy were an item. Please, me and Batista? That's just disgusting.
Now we are friends, probably because we cant kill each other.
"You bitches, I feel like drinking tonight. Wanna go to that bar across the hotel after?" Ivory pops in. Her state of dress, or should I say undress makes it clear that she just serviced John's parts, and I chuckle. I had to admit, I have never seen Ivory this happy. Ivory was like Samantha from Sex and the City. Can't hold her down. I guess that John was Ivory's underwear model. Whatever that guys name was, that shaved his head for Samantha. Anyway, she won't admit that she loves him, but she does. Damn it, he tamed the beast!! Not something we ever thought would happen.
Its my friends here that make it bearable. Vicky, Lita and Ivory are my best friends. I hung out with the others too. Melina was alright to hang out with, when she wasn't screaming her head off, and Sharmell wasn't that bas either. But Ivory and I had been here for years, and Vicky was just tough enough to handle us.
We are not that much different from our TV personas, but then again our tv personas is probably why I will get away with killing some people.
Just like they killed Trish.
I could tell that they were thinking what I was thinking. Today was supposed to be Trish's birthday. Today management would have had her beat one of us in a good match and then we would go out and party. That's what would have happened.
That what should have happened.
Before I could think of anything else, Lillian Garcia walks in and lets us know that Victoria is on in a 10 minutes. We nod and tell her thanks. She was a nice chick. I take that as my cue. I pick up my bag and head to my man's locker room. From there I will see if I am going to feed him some chocolate cake.
Every wrestler past and present is in this story. Lets see how far I can go before you guess right