B L I S S F U L L Y . V U L G A R

[Deleted]

OOC: GOING TO POST MY FIRST FEW RPS HERE SO YOU GUYS HAVE AN IDEA OF WHO JUDY ISS...

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::CHAPTER ONE::
LOCATION: Seventh Veil, Sunset Blvd. & La Brea Ave. - West Hollywood, CA.
DATE and TIME: April 21, 2018 @ 11:48 PM

It was a thunderstorm and I wasn’t equipt with an umbrella. April Showers would be putting it lightly. It was a busier than usual night at Seventh Veil and someone kept telling me I was the reason for the apparent business. “You the reason everybody is in here tonight!” I heard The annoying little piss ant with the Russian accent say, his volume just barely loud enough to hear over the music.

This naïve soul thought I was one of the strippers. Ha, I was wearing clothes. Fucking tourist. I ignore the patron and head past the DJ booth and the curtains and into the women’s locker room. The girls had the “girls” out in doubles like Reese’s cups.

“Judith!” Natasha shouted from the far end of the locker room. Titty tassles, heels, and a g-string. I affiliated with the in-crowd it would seem, but it was the exact opposite. Every woman in this locker room had a grudge against one another or somebody else, but they especially held a grudge against Natasha and myself.

I mean, sure, one night Natasha got on stage and I joined her. Money was being thrown with equal amounts of shade. They hated us around here. But if you don’t acquire haters you’re not doing something right.

“How long are you going to be here tonight? I have other shit to do.” I exclaim. Natasha laughs as she steps in front of the mirror to see how well she could slay the audience with her appearance.

“Is it a packed house?” Natasha asks with a smile? “It’s decent. Hurry up I’m going to step outside. “Cool, I’ll be out after I make one hundred and twenty dollars.”

I leave Natasha to be in her chosen field of work and step out onto Sunset Boulevard. The cars were speeding by with all caution thrown to the wind. It was a busy Saturday night in Hollywood and the tourists were out and about in an attempt to learn the greatest city of all time.

The houses in the hills lit up the night sky like fire flies during and Bray Wyatt entrance to the ring. Welcome to my world. The underground lifestyle of Los Angeles, California…. It only gets worse from here. My name is Judith Albrecht, and it only gets more vulgar from here.

The stirp club is where we began our night. Natasha gets anxious when she’s bored, and money puts her chemical imbalance back on track when it’s out of whack. Good ol’ Natasha Dangerous. Always bringing me into shit I didn’t want to be apart of. This was only the beginning.

“Fuck off!” I shout to the random asshole standing next to me with the burning cancer stick. “I’m allergic to cigarette smoke. Run along.”

“Oh, baby girl, why the vulgarity?” He asks. My eyes gaze at his shoes and move back up to his face. “I’m not vulgar, I’m truthful.”

“Are you now?” His crooked grin exposed yellow teeth behind a cloud of smoke. “Truth be told… the sight of you makes me want to spew baby bird food.” The random asshole continue never stops smiling. I could tell from the look in his eyes he was totally smitten. I could smack him with a decaying fish and he would enjoy it. This is.. uhmm… what do they call it? … Girlpower.

“Well you take it easy now. Run along.” I move my fingers in mid-air, giving him another sign that he should walk off and leave me to my business. After a moment of silence and a few awkward glances the random asshole gets the message and walks away quietly.

If I could give credit to anyone or anything in life, it would have to be fate. Like a lightning bolt thrown from Zeus himself, the flyer stuck to the side of the light post sent a shock to my nervous system. “Are you fucking kidding me?!” I say aloud. I notice the homeless man glance at me like I’ve lost my mid but I don’t acknowledge him, I just keep my eyes on the small white flyer.

FIGHT UNION.


The FU logo rang a bell, but why? I had never seen this before. But…I had definitely seen this before. Why was this so fresh in my mind? Why did this resonate? I needed answers and I needed them now, so I reach into my Kate Spade bag and remove the overpriced iphone and dial a number from my recent calls list.

A few rings and a connection is made. “Hello?” the voice says on the other end.

“Jordan! I’m glad you picked up. Sorry to bother you so late, but I have a question for you. What was the name of that company you worked for back in the gap?” I asked him.

“Which one? I worked for many promotions.” He replies. “I don’t know, one of the Fight ones. I can’t remember the name of it.” I try to explain myself as best I could.

“Hmm..the only places I’ve been, are Fight One. Fight One: X, something like that. Why?” His words solved the puzzle. The missing pieces floated into place.

“DUDE! I kid you not, I think they are resurfacing. If it’s really them what do you think about me trying to work for them? Are they a solid promotion?” I ask.

He sclears his throat before responding. “Honestly, it’s been years so I couldn’t tell you. Different era, different establishment, different goals. I honestly believe, anyone in management there would be good to work under though. Look into them and let know how it goes.”

“I will!” My excitement was unbearable. I’d spent nearly my entire life watching and training under my older brother and I trust his wisdom and input over my own sometimes. “Can you look up information on a place called Fight Union?” I ask innocently.

“Sure thing. You I’ll do anything for my baby sister. Depending on who is in charge I may be able to drop a reference for you. Give me the weekend to handle business and I’ll have some responses for you by Monday.” He says with confidence.

“Ok, thanks.” We end the conversation and I place my phone back in my bag. What was a girl to do with so much excitement running through her body. The fourth of July was living within me currently and I had no intention to letting it end so I turn the random asshole who was mesmerized by me only moments early and shout, “Hey, you got a cigarette?!”

The random asshole looks up from his cell phone and grins before removing the pack from his coat pocket. I rip the Fight Union flyer from the post and fold it in half multiple times before grabbing the cigarette. “I thought you were allergic to smoke?” He says with sarcasm.

“Eat shit and kill yourself.” I say with the seriousness of Patrick Bateman while he chases a defenseless hooker down a spiral staircase, before walking back into the club.

END OF THIS BITCH.

[Deleted]

::CHAPTER TWO::
LOCATION: Hollywood, CA.
DATE and TIME: May, 2018 @ 1:48 PM

It was an early humpday with no sexual inhibitions and the Union Championship Tournament was fresh on my mind. Sleep wasn’t an option at this point. What was this feeling? Bottled up energy? Excitement? Stress? Anticipation? This is just the basics. Within my inner being there was a thug… a demon… a misfit… just waiting to be unleashed, and what better time to be unleashed than in the midst of glory. A history defining moment is merely around the corner and there is room for five potential victims and one victor. In this board game sized battle, who will leave the Leader Of The Union?

History has proven that the only one’s worthy of leadership are those who possess a backbone. The fearless. The hostile. The vulgar… The vultures. The one’s who prey on the dead not because it’s easy, but because it’s beneficial to both sides. That’s what the always blissful Judy Albrecht is here for.

I’m here to be a benefit to Fight Union and I’m also here for the benefit of Alyssa Daniels, Azurine Vebbins, Pandora Royce, Nova, and prankster aficionado Lara Bratton. As solid as they are, it is my duty to inform these bitches that they’ll crumble faster than a bath bomb when it hits liquid.

It’s open season and Fight Union is looking to put someone at the pinnacle of dominance. Fight Union is looking for someone to set the standard. Someone to throttle the company into the realm of superstardom it once held so many times before. A prominent promotion known for its’ reputation for excellence. Who better to lead the Union than someone homegrown? It’s taken a few years and finally, Fight Union has a civil war brewing amongst it’s ranks. The battle of the bloodlines is in full effect. Who’s legacy will reign supreme?

For years, it was the Clemmens Dynasty around this bitch. From sirens to Dirty Dogs. But not now. Not in 2018. No Shane. No Shyla. Just a vacant seat at the head of the dinner table set by Jack Clemmens.

“There you are!” The intrusion by her voice was startling and powerful enough to cause a break in my thought process. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” She exclaims while stepping away from the fire-scape ladder. Nikki always had style, boots, jeans and a jacket always complimented her looks and her Wounded Wasteland Asylum t-shirts.

The beautiful and wise Nikki Dangerous, my big sister… in-law. She had been apart of my life forever and well…clearly, she’s been quite the influence on me. Her body was a canvas of memories and so was mine. Her image was the foundation of mine. Growing up she was who I aspired to be.

“Congratulations sweetie!” She wraps her arm around me, pulling me into a tight embrace. The zippers on her jacket dug deep into my cleavage. “Ow, ouch. Nikki, your jacket is inflicting pain.” I say.

“Oh geeze!” She releases me and creates distance. “Sorry. I’m so excited for you! Who’d of thought, your first time company would be the same company we worked for. This is excellent!”

I sit in silence and continue to gaze out at the city of Los Angeles. “Do the competitors look this small from this view?” I ask, never looking away from my gaze. “Like, when you reach the top does the competition look small?”

“You’ll have to ask your brother.” Nikki declares.

“When will he be returning?” I ask.

“In about an hour or so, I’m going to LAX to pick him up. Will you be able to fully attend to Nicholas while I’m gone?” Nikki got a kick out of her own sarcasm. I was too focused on the future to dabble in the present moment. Some would say my knack for dwelling on what has not happened yet is my biggest pitfall.

“He can tell you all about Fight…what is it, now? They’ve had so many branding changes.” Nikki aforementioned.

I crack a smile for the first time today, “Union. It’s Fight Union.” I reply.

Nikki moves her hair out of her face and looks me in the eye. “I was no wrestler, but... I was there through every step of it. It’s going to be grueling at times, but you’ll come out better than ever as long as you stick it out. Remember, your only competition is yourself. Your biggest focus should be on yourself.” She continued to stare into my eyes. We had a mother daughter connection that I truly appreciated. “Let’s get some food for you and little Nicky before I head off to pick up Jordan.”

Nikki lead the way down the ladder, through the large window and back into the penthouse. Little Nicky Albrecht, my six year old nephew with a Rockstar mullet was standing at an unhealthy distance from the television chewing on a twizzlers pull and peel. I grab him by the hand, “Come on buddy.” And guide him away from the television as his mother grabs her purse.

END OF THIS BITCH.

[Deleted]

::CHAPTER THREE::

LOCATION: Hollywood, CA.
DATE and TIME: May 3, 2018 @ 1:56 AM

The silence was golden. I sat at the edge of the bed in front of the mirror while rubbing lotion over my feet, between my toes, and then back up my calf. A hot shower was much needed after the nightmare I had just jolted awake from only an hour earlier. I could’ve sworn someone was after me. This someone wasn’t a Union Championship Tournament participant either. I don’t think anyone from the tournament could haunt me. It is my intention to haunt them.

After reviewing the tapes, I do believe Fight Union does present some real challenges amongst these tournaments. Alyssa Daniels being on my not to take as lightly as the others list, the heart of infinity possesses a true obstacle. She is more like an ant hill that I am making into a mountain, but I’ll always give credit where credit is due, and to be honest, I knew about Alyssa Daniels before I ever signed to Fight Union. I’d seen her on Elysium Pro. I know her weaknesses and her strengths. Her greatest downfall will be her inability to break the rules. This human crash dummy of an athlete is about to find out why the ignorance truly is bliss.

The moonlight shines between the cracks in the blinds causing a light aura in my bedroom. I wanted to go back to sleep but I had a fear of going back into that awful dream. I was tired of dreams anyways. Reality was more my thing.

Reality… the world as it actually exists. If only this were possible for the Adorkable Angel. Yes, Alyssa Daniel’s life mate.

Fight Union is no place for a house wife. This where we all come together under the most grueling circumstances. A violent struggle is inevitable and where the struggles arise, Alyssa will surely step up but Azurine will surely stand to the side and cheer on her life mate. As strong as you are together, it’s just two weak bitches trying to feed off each others vibes to feel better about themselves and their lives. It’s pathetic. Watching you die two deaths in the same night, will be worth the wait. You’ll shine for a moment but much like Nova your bright shine will dwindle into nothing just as quickly.

I arise from the bed side, still wrapped in the towel and grab the blow dryer from the dresser. My hair flies in all directions, the warmth against my scalp causing a relaxing tingle that only having my hand raised in victory twice could fathom. While placing the blow dryer on the dresser I hear foot steps within the home. Who wears boots at this hour?

I open the bedroom door and step into the hall. All the doors are closed and no lights are on. “Hello?” A cold stillness is the only response given and after a moment of waiting I go back into my room and shut the door behind me.

In a matter of minutes the towel is removed and clothes are pulled onto my body. A nice pair of skinny jeans with rips at the knees, a band shirt purchased from the little boys section at a local TJ Maxx and as always… the all black Chuck Taylor’s. This was a family trademark. I seriously think Converse sponsors our family reunions when we have them.

Gazing at the shoes in the mirror as I lace them made me think of Pandora Royce and the dark void that consumed her. She was a quiet one. A loner. Her confidence was already shot, and I intended to kick her while she was down. As super natural as she wishes to appear, her weaknesses are obvious. The Winchester brothers would have a field day with her. Her fight or flight response is stuck on flight. She wants to run. She wants to hide. But like her thoughts amid her subconscious, she is only going in circles.

My looks and my attitude should be the least of her concerns. This rabbit has backed herself into a corner with hopes of turning into a bear, and if that’s the case, consider me Daniel fucking Boone. It is my intention to piece you back together just to tear you apart, piece… by piece.

Talk about the perks of being a wallflower. I see Pandora Royce as a wallflower without any perks. Fragile and misguided.

The voice in her head…
Does she you know what that is?

It’s fear of herself. If she can’t defeat herself then I’ll do it for her.

Pandora is allowing her inner speech to dictate who she is and that’s a cardinal sin in the world we live in. The innocence is adorable… but Fight Union is no place for the adorable nor the innocent.

This is where only the strong survive, and Pandora is clearly not fit for survival.

I step away from the mirror for a moment and upon my return I hear the loud foot steps again. “Who the fuck is that?” I ask myself before storming out of the room and stopping at the end of the hallway.

Halfway in the hallway and halfway in the living room I hear the sound of moisture and rapid chewing. The smacking of food made my blood boil. “Ok who the fuck is that?!” I shout before flipping the light switch.

NOTHING.
NO ONE.

An empty space of silence. Just a bowl of fruit and two bananas that stand out only because they are beginning to ripen heavily. I flip the switch once again and the smacking sounds start up again. This time I turn the dial that controls the dimming of the lighting in the room. My jaw hit the floor when I saw what I saw in dim lighting. I turn the dial all the way up once again and no one is there. “That’s fucking trippy.” I say out loud.

I dim the lights once again and there he was. That unfamiliar face, cloaked in darkness with blood at the corner of his lips as he chewed. The sight left me paralyzed with my hand resting on the light switch panel. Who was this man? Why was I having deja vú?

The cloaked male leaned over a severed head with the brains exposed. He dug he spoon into the brain matter and takes a huge bite with his boot tapping against the tile flooring. What in the fuck was this? I stood there without fear just innocent curiosity as he devoured the brain matter.

Finally his foot stopped tapping and he jolts his attention in my direction. "Ich habe nach dir gesucht.” the Cloaked Male says through a mouthful of blood and tendons. I felt my nail dig into something squishy and that was when I heard the screams.

“AAHHHHHH!!!!!” I jolt awake from my coma and the startling screams brought me back to reality. “Wake up Judy. Fuck that hurts!” I hear Natasha shout. The tension in my arm releases and I realize I had grabbed hold of Natasha’s thigh while I had been asleep.

“I’m sorry. Was I sleeping?” I asked her.

She throws the blanket back and hurries to the bathroom, cursing the entire way. “Shit. Fuck. Damnit. Judith!”

From my seated position in the bed I watch her clean the few small wounds that I had caused. “I’m sorry. I was in the middle of a nightmare.” I say before raising my left hand and noticing the small amount of flesh and blood left beneath my nails.

Who was that? What was that? I pull the covers back onto my body in an attempt to calm the chilling sensation that had overrun my body. Goosebumps. What was happening? I hadn’t a single clue. I roll onto my side while listening to Natasha’s concerns over the sound of running water. I wanted to fall back asleep but my mind and my body wouldn’t allow me.

Natasha returns to the bed with a RAW tray covered in zig-zags and a pile of marijuana. “Here.” She rolls a spliff faster than I can sit up and lights it. “Whoa, I don’t know how they feel about smoking in the house when the kid is here.” I say with concern.

Natasha leaves the bed to open a window and takes a seat on the windowsill. “Come over here and enjoy the view of the city. You need to relax. Clearly Bratton, Nova, Daniels, Vebbins, and Royce have your nerves planning a mutiny.” Natasha’s words were calming. I leave the bed and take a seat on the floor, hiding my partially exposed body from any onlookers that may be outside.

“So what happened?” Natasha asks. I look her in the eyes and prepare to tell it all. “Promise me you won’t call me crazy.”


END OF THIS BITCH.

[Deleted]

OOC NOTES:
Word Count w/ titles & headings: 1,522
Word w/o titles & headings: 1,499
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::CHAPTER FoUr::

LOCATION: Burbank, CA.
DATE and TIME: May 18, 2018 @ 11:56 AM

"Where in the fuck is that PA?!!" The first A.D. shouts in passing as McKay, the beautiful old lady working in make up and wardrobe puts the final touches on my face. Yet another campaign for the awful Korova Milk that Fight Union was selling at all it's events. At times I wondered if anybody other than myself had ever tasted this drink.... beverage... whatever the hell it was, it was by the far the most disgusting thing I have ever had to swallow in my life. I'd be waiting another hour or so until the actual call time and at any minute McKay would vanish and I would be free to roam the studio lot for a bit and see what other productions may be going on out here.

"It looks wonderful." McKay's words interrupted my thoughts and the small mirror she placed before me interrupted my view of myself in the mirror in the distance. This small hand mirror was much better. "Woooooow!" I really couldn't believe it. I didn't speak on it, but Vebbins had blacked my eye. McKay did what she could to hide it and I think she did a fantastic job. The all white suit and the suspenders with the black fedora really made the overly exaggerated eyelashes stand out. "You did this with a make up pencil?!" I asked whilst shaking my head in disbelief. "How much time do I have?"

McKay stops in the doorway, halfway in, halfway out and replies, "Oh, you know how it goes with the gaffers and lights. By my guess, I'd predict roughly, 45 minutes to an hour. Just don't go anywhere you can't be found." McKay smiles and continues on her journey to wash her brushes and put her make up kit away. Moments later I found myself walking past the gate attendant and approaching the pewter colored Porsche Cayenne with the tinted windows. The vibrations of the music could be felt through the pavement as I got closer and upon opening the doors the music got even louder.

There was Natasha, sitting in the driver's seat head banging to Du Hast. "You're having a good time aren't'cha?!" I asked with a smile. She stops head banging to move her hair out of her face and smiles back. "WHOA!" She was taken aback by the outfit.

"You look like such a bad ass!" Natasha exclaims. "She also covered up that shiner."

I gave her a scold that only a mother could produce when disappointed in her child. "Shut up 'Tasha. Every time I look in the mirror my blood starts to boil." Azurinne Vebbins, my biggest hater and first enemy in Fight Union. She hated my guts and I did not have a single clue as to why, not did I have a single care. It is my intention to bury her in the grave she has dug for herself.

"I've only got about thirty minutes, so let's be quick." Natasha pulls the ashtray out from the slot and removes the one fourth of the way smoked Backwood. A lighter's flame torches the tip and she sucks in and exhales a cloud before passing it to me. I pull the visor down in front of me and look myself over in the small mirror, smoke dances in front of my face when I bring the backwood to my lips and just beyond the smoke there it was, standing out at me, blackish-purple...blurple. The shiner of all shiners. If I had a boyfriend he'd surely be under suspicion, as I resembled Tina Turner after stepping out of the limo with Ike Turner.

I slap the visor shut and hit the backwood once more before passing it along to Natasha. "What's it like inside?" She asks.

"A lot of waiting. A ton of food though." I say while brushing my hair out of my face and placing the fedora on the dashboard. "Has Jordan called at all?" I ask.

Natasha ashes in the ashtray and takes another drag, the sound of the paper burning sounds like sizzling wax. "Nope. He's so busy lately. You joining Fight Union sort of boosted the business ya know."

"I'm aware of that, but I prefer--" I catch myself and sit in silence, frustrated. I was a fighter, not an actress. I enjoyed being in front of the camera and kicking ass not being in front of it and being pretty. I'm not a freaking toy. I don't need make up to feel good about myself, unlike many others on the Fight Union roster. But here I was, with all the confidence in the world and nothing to prove I was as good as I say I am. Nothing but the fact that I left a comedian and an adventurer with a taste of the defeat they have coming in their near future.

"You gonna hit this again? I'm about to put it out." Natasha says, snapping me out of my thoughts. I spend a lot of time in my thoughts. "Put it out." I say as I grab the fedora from the dashboard and pull the door handle. "Let's go to craft services. I'm starving." Natasha locks the car door after the passenger door shuts and we walk to the studio gates and enter after checking in with the guard at the front. The big lot filled with grip trucks and production crews was a bit intimidating at first, but once you'd made a few entrances and exits it didn't seem so big.

The California sun was shining bright above and the chaos in front of us felt calming. It was almost normal. "So what do they have you doing?" Natasha asks curiously. "Nothing special. It's a bunch of people hurdling couches and punching each other to retrieve the worst tasting drink in the world from my clutches. The director says it's an idea that pays homage to the surge commercials from the 90s."

Natasha stops in the middle of her stride. "Surge?"

I crack a smile, "Yes. Surge." I say before continuing forward, using my body language to remind her that we are on a timeline. "He showed me a commercial so I could get a clearer idea. It was pretty cool, I just don't understand why they are fighting so hard for the worst payoff in the world. It's almost like making a deal with the de--" I stopped talking almost immediately. In the distance I saw him, the hooded man from my dream, leaning against the brick wall next to the door with the EXIT sign in big green lettering. He exhales a cloud of smoke as he removes the cigarette from his lips and drops it to the ground.

We locked eyes and I continue moving forward, from the distance I could see beyond the dark sockets and the feeling I felt from making eye contact was uncontrollable. I couldn't look away, it was as if he were attracting me closer to him like a magnet. By the time we reached the door I couldn't remember how many steps I had taken before reaching this point. "Judith." Natasha's voice broke me from the trance that I hadn't known I was in. "Judith, why are you in such a rush?" She asks, partially winded.

"What just happened?" I asked. Natasha furrows her brows in disbelief. "You're blowing my high Judy. Stop playing." Natasha says with a laugh of discomfort.

"Did you see anyone standing here?" I ask.

"Standing where?" Natasha replies. "We'd better hurry up and get you some food. If your blood sugar level low? I didn't think you were hypoglycemic. Maybe do a little more research on this Korova Milk stuff..." The sound of her voice trails out as I open the door to he studio and enter the door of STAGE 5. Natasha follows behind me, "I hope they have pizza..." I hear her say faintly, but I wasn't really focusing on her at the moment. My min was boggled, who was this.. entity following me. But who was he? Where had I seen him before? Those eye sockets... those eyes... it was all too familiar.

"Judith!" I turn to see the First A.D. practically sprinting in my direction with a clipboard. "There you are. Come on it's time to do a lighting test." He grabs my wrist and I pull away. "HOLD UP!" I exclaim. "I'm getting some food before I have to drink that bullshit." A production assistant appears next to the first A.D. with a shopping cart with a black sheet draped over it. "What's that?" I ask out of curiosity.

"It's just a cart full of props." The female P.A. lifts the sheet and holds up a red fire extinguisher. "You cool with this one?" She asks. I was seething. I wanted to punch this bitch. "Nah I'll use the glass of milk." The words left my mouth with aggression as I lead the way giving as much attitude as possible.

END OF THIS BITCH.

[Deleted]

::CHAPTER FIVE::


LOCATION: Albrecht Estates - Hollywood, CA.
DATE and TIME: May 23, 2018 @ 6:27 pm

His voice was calm and his words of wisdom smacked me like a ton of bricks. Twelve hours ago my older brother Jordan had sat me down in front of the television and forced me to watch an entire library of his past wrestling world. Serious old school names, Puma Jones, Lucas Knight, Nicholas Jaxx, some truly epic stuff I was watching here. Fucking, Filthy Ramirez was counting the pin falls with his epic 1980s' porn star mustache.

Hell, we even viewed the tapes when Lyza Reyes ruled the outlaw division. We had watched many hours but the thing that stood out to me most was the Dirty Manifesto. I don't know why, but it stuck with me like a bad case of the clap. "I've got it!"I shout, breaking the silence of the room as Jordan was placing another dvd into the dvd player.

"You've got what?" He asks, seeming not to have a clue why I shouted so abruptly. "The Blissful Manifesto." My brothers expression told me all I needed to hear. "Too cliché?" I ask.

He was hesitant to respond at first, but eventually answers with, "It's not one hundred percent you. Think like you did when you came up with the name for your finisher. It's got to have a ring to it."

I ponder a little longer and he nudges me on the shoulder. "Don't lose your focus trying to focus." He says with a grin. "Watch this next tape. This one is all Azurinne Vebbins."

I rise from the couch, annoyed. "Fuck no. I'd rather hit the ring. I've watched far too much and I need to get in on the action. She blacked my eye. I'd rather set a trap for that bitch."

"The trap is already set." His confidence was earth shattering. I furrow my brow in confusion and disbelief. The skepticism was obvious. "She set herself up to fail the moment she attacked you with the fire extinguisher. You've got to realize who you are Judith. You're the force... the energy... that keeps Fight Union glowing a little bit brighter." He stops to take a hit from an oil pen and exhales a small cloud of smoke before continuing.

"You've got it sis, just believe it. Now sit down and watch." He says in that demanding tone that elder's use. He knew what he was saying, he had the experience, he has been there, he has done that, he has seen it all. And now he was giving me all of his knowledge so that I could carry on the legacy. But he wanted me to carry much more than just his legacy, or my legacy, he wanted me to carry the Fight legacy.

He was showing me all of this so I was the best in the business. He was grooming me to be the epitome of Fight Union. "People have to think of Fight Union and immediately think of Judith Albrecht. Vulgar. Hostile. Fearless." He stops talking and takes another hit from his pen, allowing his words to ruminate. Motivational speaking was always what he was good at, at least in my opinion.

"No one can be better than you Judy. Take from the old, reinvent it and make it new." The ideas kept running through my mind. I had to be the best of the new school blended with the days of the old. There was no way around it. The Infinity Heart can enjoy her sunspot on the canvas but the whole painting will be a representation of me. Imagine the rorschach painting that brought you great amounts of fear alongside equal amounts of joy all in one glance... that uneasy feeling... that was the thought of facing Judy Albrecht... wait... that was the thought of facing Judy Ballistic. It had a ring to it.

A grin crept upon my face as my thoughts continue to expand in my head. Jordan broke down match after match, move by move and each and every fighter word by word, sentence by sentence, instinct by instinct. He was a true wrestling veteran and with me being his first success story it has boosted his popularity and business. Jordan Albrecht, my brother... he trained me and from the moment I signed with Iconic Sports Management and then inked a deal with Fight Union, I've been married to the main event.

This is my world and the others in this number one contendership tournament are just supporting cast, space fillers and background actors. Someone's got to play the role of my victims and lucky little Ms. Adorkable Daniels-Vebbins gets to play the role of the first antagonist. "Ae you listening?" Jordan asks.

My face hurt from smiling for so long. "Yes I am." I lied. I couldn't focus, I was too heavily focused on silencing my critic.

END OF THIS BITCH.