Post by blanchecorrigan on Sept 18, 2016 12:24:18 GMT -6
Open wide, scratch your eye
Bite the sky, fallen lie
Noise all day, find a way
Kill the daze...
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“Hi, I’m Torrin Dupont, here reporting for UCI online!”
Bite the sky, fallen lie
Noise all day, find a way
Kill the daze...
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“Hi, I’m Torrin Dupont, here reporting for UCI online!”
Our cameras pan in towards a small two person camera crew and a short, dirty blonde haired woman, whom of which grasped a microphone tightly in her hands. She smiled to the camera as our viewpoint switches from third person, to first.
“Follow me - we’re going to try to catch up with UCI’s very own, Blanche Corrigan!”
Torrin motions forward, making her way through an entrance of what seems to be a gated home. Upon arrival, Miss Dupont knocks on the door with a swift motion, looking over her shoulder to innocently smile at the cameras once more. It wasn’t but a few seconds after the knocks, did the door swing open. A tall, leggy, platinum blonde woman appears at the door front - her facial expression not of welcoming, in the least. Her slumped, almost angry nature shot vibes towards the camera crew, enough for them to step down off of the front porch and onto the rock-laid walkway. Torrin simply giggled in a near nervous manner, putting the microphone up to her lips.
“Blanche! It’s so great to see you! Torrin, from UCI online, do you have a moment?!”
“You literally show up to my front door and ask me if I have a moment to do an interview? Seriously?”
Torrin simply giggles once more, looking back at her crew and shrugging - a bit off a huff escaping her lips from sheer anxiousness. Blanche scoffs, swinging the door open a bit wider.
“Whatever. I wasn’t expecting you guys to actually show up to my home. Regardless, come in, make yourselves right at home.”
A sarcastic tone rang from Blanche’s voice, who had already turned and began walking down a small corridor leading into a massive open room. Torrin hopped inside, her crew following, and lead themselves into said open room - a living room, kitchen combo of sorts, several couches and chairs of different sizes sat nearly untouched, un-creased. The home was unnaturally silent, only the clicking and clacking of Blanche’s heels upon the tiled floor - her voice filled the void.
“So what do you need to ask me? What’s so important you couldn’t have waited until tomorrow when I get to the ring?”
“Well…”
Torrin sits down next to Blanche, whom plopped herself down on a white leather couch - her silk robe sheer enough to see her nipples as she wore no undershirt and only a small pair of lounge shorts. Blanche treated herself to what smelled like a straight glass of whiskey, placing it on the glass table next to the couch. Her annoyed nature seemed incredibly evident now as the camera crew got situated not too far from the two women, zooming in perfectly for a decent shot, Blanche’s arm placed roughly on the top of the couch, her body turned, though, towards Torrin. Torrin gulped hard, seeming a bit uncomfortable at the growing tension in the room.
“Well, we just thought it would be more comfortable for you to…”
“I honestly…”
Blanche’s voice was raised, startling Torrin.
“...I honestly don’t give a shit why you were put up to this. Don’t you know a rhetorical question when you hear one? Get to it…”
Torrin simply nods.
“Yes, right. So, Miss Corrigan, everyone got to see your impressive ring skills last week against Jack Scorpion and Courtney Leinart…”
“You know, let me stop you again. Let me touch base on something just...really quick.”
Blanche’s attention turns directly to the cameras.
“Jack Scorpion wasn’t shit. From before the match, he wasn’t shit to me, and after the match...still isn’t shit to me. Unfortunately when you come back from a hiatus of any length of time, you find yourself starting from the bottom again - facing literal bottom feeders. What the fuck is a big fish like me swimming in a little pond and at the bottom, nonetheless?! Proved myself far superior than those who talk a lot of shit, didn’t I? Stepped all over them. And let’s note...it wasn’t just one person, it was two! While Jack is absolutely nothing to me, I have nothing against the man. He tries, he gives his best effort, though fails, but hasn’t stepped on my toes. However, Courtney? Fuck. How incompetent is this bitch, huh? I wonder how it feels to come off as a complete and utter dumbass on live television in front of thousands and then get into that ring and just prove yourself to be said dumbass? You embarrassed yourself, to say the least, Leinart. Not only embarrassed yourself, but the entire wrestling business. You are the epitome of what not to be. Your air time is what trainers show their trainees in how not to conduct yourself. You have no actual grasp on what the fuck is going on around you, what so ever. I’m also convinced I fought a hologram of you - considering you tweeted you were in Japan on Sunday. No wonder it was incredibly easy to just toss you aside so I could face someone with at least half my talent. Courtney, dear, you’ve managed to crawl a bit deeper under my skin then I’d like. One day, I do hope we can step back into that ring together. A singles match. So I can utterly slaughter your entire career without someone there for you to hide behind. So much for that fox bowing down to the Queen, eh? Had your body on a platter for dinner last Sunday - talk shit again and I won’t wait til that singles match - I’ll just end your career right on the spot. Now you’ve got no choice but to...respect...me!”
Blanche lets her last few words growl from between her lips. She simply shifts her hair from her shoulder and continues.
“Now, Torrin, this week...I’ve got a bit of a tougher challenge ahead of me. Let me put it this way, you ever play a video game, Dupont?”
Blanche’s body shifts to a more relaxed position, facing Torrin once more. Torrin smiles and nods in response.
“Right, so you know when you get through one level, you usually have to face that level’s boss, correct? I feel like this is how UCI has set me up. It’s perfect. Regardless of my feelings towards the people or person I’m facing, I take every match seriously - as though it’ll be my last. See, two years ago, I wrestled one of my biggest matches, facing my own trainer Zerotine for a prestiges belt. Little did I know, when I stepped into that ring, was it going to be my last match. And while i reveled in my win against my trainer, while I laid in the middle of that ring clutching that belt as though it was my own child. Only for moments later, stepping through to the backstage area, the belt ripped from my grip. I mean, I thought it was a joke - I worked with some jokers so I figured this was just their way to haze me as their new champion. Wrong. So wrong. I was stripped from that title, stripped from that win, stripped from that promotion and essentially stripped from my entire career. I left all of that in the hands of someone else and because I respected those individuals so much, I didn’t fight back, I didn’t make a case for myself. Not anymore. While I feel like UCI is placing me into a virtual video game, I also feel as though they’ve got some agenda.”
Blanche pauses, chuckling softly as she fixes her robe slightly.
“See Torrin, every single soul in UCI...from the caterers, to the light technicians, to every single person that walks up into that ring, to every individual pulling the strings from their office chairs….even you, baby…”
Blanche gently brushes her hand against Torrin’s cheek, giving Torrin no other option but to smile uncomfortably..
“You’re all afraid of me. You all hate to admit it, throwing jokes around about how I used to model - how I’m nothing but some sexy, leggy, weak woman. I’ll let you all think that, for as long as it pleases your innocent little souls. But, I’ll keep disappointing those stereotypes. See, Jack and Courtney weren’t it - they weren’t the last of those to get played like mini violins. I’m a giant, don’t you understand? Jacked, I may not be, but cunning, agile, ruthless...I am. And when will people understand that all of that...is what makes someone a threat? You look at me and pull from me openly saying I used to be a model. Oh, what a joke, right? What in the world am I doing in the ring, right? But didn’t you witness me?! Didn’t you see me in that ring last week?! That’s just the start of this all - the start of something ten times bigger than what it seems now. My colleagues look at the smaller picture and I can’t help but to laugh. Take a peek at what I see - the bigger picture. It looks so much brighter for me...and so very dark for everyone else.”
A laugh rolls from Blanche once more, a bit more sinister than the last.
“But being someone like Alex, well, I completely understand why he wouldn’t want to say I intimidate him. I understand that his first shot at me will probably be about my modeling career or how I’ve been away from the ring so long. Come this Sunday, though, he’ll see how that all very irrelevant. A big man such as Alex should never walk into a space where there’s an individual who knows very little about him, with such confidence. Courtney and Jack were just the beginning of it all - a small victory in the grand scheme of it all. How incredibly embarrassing would I be if I was Jayson Price and my top guy got completely rocked by a newbie? A woman, nonetheless! It’s unfortunate this isn’t a title match, you know. I’d turn this entire company upside down, probably get Jayson comfortably in the palm of my hands and we can rule over this company like it’s our own kingdom. Maybe link up with good ol Howard Black or hell, even Shadowlove. Wonderful plans. Heh…”
Blanche pauses a moment, licking her lips with a gentle sigh, her voice dipping in tone.
“I don’t care about anyone else but me, Torrin. I don’t care about their feelings...their respect...their titles or belts they’ve won or own. Everything happens when it’s supposed to and I feel it, Torrin, I feel it. Alex may take me as a joke now, and hell, the whole roster may take me as a joke. So the slaughtering will continue until management realizes who really reigns over this company. Not some fat pig like Alex who probably attempted to devour that belt he has slung up on her shoulder, thinking he got prized with some gold encrusted slice of pizza. He hasn’t even defended the belt and it’s only been in his graces for a month. Don’t toot your own horn so quick, Richards. I could care less if you have a five hundred pound advantage on me come Sunday. I could care less if you have that belt around your waist, if it fits. Because it won’t be long. It won’t be long til you get knocked down - come crashing to the bottom of this metaphorical pond. And you won’t be such a big fish then, eh?”
A grin grows gracefully upon the expression of Blanche as she throws a wink towards the camera. Torrin adjust herself in shock..
“I...wow. Well, you heard it first, everyone, right here on UCI online Blanche Corrigan courageously confident in her match this week against Alex Richards! Stay tuned with UCI as we take to WisePies arena in Albuquerque, New Mexico this Sunday, the 18th!”
With the ending lines being spoken, Blanche’s aura seemed completely different - she innocently giggles, reaching over to her glass of whiskey and absolutely downing it. Suddenly, as if a switch was flipped, Blanche pitches the empty glass towards the camera. The glass shatters and the camera lens cracked in the bottom right corner. Torrin jumps from her seat, dropping her microphone as static erupts.
“Get out! Leave all your shit here and get out!”
Blanche stands in a rage, pushing Torrin away from the couch. Torrin yelps like a small puppy - quickly prancing off the scene, followed by the two camera crew workers as they leave behind the camera itself. Blanche wipes away blood from her lip, indicating she was cut by some form of flying glass from the quick scene she had just made. The camera now on it’s side upon the glass coffee table, Blanche takes a seat - now in a more relaxed position than ever before. Her bare legs stretched across the couch, her heels nearly poking through the leather on the arm rest. Her nipples sat elegantly, peeking through her robe as Blanche sighed ever so softly, her attention upon her fingers, licking them free of the blood she wiped from her lip while some dripped onto her bare breast. Her tone was eerie yet subtle…
“Forty ways to hell, let’s start with number one, shall we Alex?”
Blanche looks towards the camera with a tilted head, licking her lips in an incredibly seductive way. A wicked howl of laughter escaping faintly from her lips as she throws yet another infamous wink towards the camera, our scene fading to black.
