Post by Lacklan on Jun 14, 2020 18:52:50 GMT -5
Saturday, June 6th
“The Egg,” West Hollywood, CA
“I WANT THAT WOMAN OUT OF MY HOUSE!!!!”
Sarah Grey-Lacklan lets out a long sigh as her shoulders slump. The Californian heat, stifling to the New England-born albino, was suffocating as it was, and causing a sheen layer of sweat to cover her pale skin, but it was nothing compared to the furnace of angry fire that had just burst into the room. Sarah slowly turns in her chair, a circular stool a few inches off the ground, and away from the canvas where the outline of a new painting of a blooming rose would have to wait until later. Her odd red eyes fill with the vision of Kenzi Grey-Lacklan’s mass of dark microbraids waving around in the air with fierce agitation, as if she were the Predator in search of Dutch for the revenge of her lost lover. Sarah’s body fills with its own inner heat, as it always did when gazing upon the caramel-skinned woman, but she is forced to tamp it down and put on a face of innocence.
“Whatever is the problem, Beloved?”
Kenzi’s chocolate eyes widen in a disbelief as she shakes a cabinet drawer.
“‘Whatever is the problem?!’ Oh, you do NOT hand me THAT crap! Just LOOK at this, Selena! LOOK!”
Kenzi turns the drawer over in her hands and dumps out the contents. Sarah’s body fills with heat again as she sees a number of pieces of lingerie fall to the hardwood floor of their shared office upstairs...her favorite was the Patriots-inspired teddy that was the result of a lost bet...but they were quickly covered up by several massive sweatshirts with French flags across the bosom. Sarah does her best to hide her smile as Kenzi kicks the pile of oversized sweaters and has to bite down hard on her lips when Kenzi nearly falls in the process.
“ALL of my lingerie! Gone! Well, except for that shitty Patriots crap you forced me to wear!”
“...you lost a bet…”
“And instead, Mrs. Frenchie McStickUpHerAss replaced them with THIS crap!”
Kenzi kicks the piles of sweaters again.
“I am SO sick of your sexist, racist, BIGOTED mother, Babe! She treats me like CRAP!”
“Hey! You’re not the ONLY one who has to deal with her nonsense!”
Sarah stands up after firing back and stomps out of the room, with Kenzi right behind her. Out of their smaller office and into their bedroom, a surprisingly small space mostly dominated by a garishly opulent King-sized bed with four corner posts covered with more red and black lace than any six Disney Princesses combined, and to one of their three closets.
“Just LOOK at this nonsense!”
Sarah opens one of the doors and takes them into a walk-in closet at least three times larger than their office, a closet filled with racks of Sarah’s hand-hewn dresses, her entire line of turn-of-the-20th-century “Firestarter” dresses in a variety of colors, each with the puffiest of sleeves, and motions towards the second rack. Several dozen bras hang from several hangers, each showing the French flag, and all sturdy and thick. She holds one up and shakes it.
“ALL of my corsets just HAPPEN to be missing and replaced with THESE monstrosities! My God! Just LOOK at how THICK these things are!”
Kenzi’s eyes narrow for a second as she looks away.
“...well, perhaps if you actually wore a bra once and a while, she wouldn’t need to get you some…”
“#FreeTheNipple!”
“Don’t you ‘hashtag’ me!”
The two stare at one another, flaming daggers in their eyes, and then they both break the glare with a smile.
“I saw that she sewed little flags over all of your lower-cut halters.”
“And our pictures! All of the pictures on our wall with even the TINIEST bit of skin have been replaced with our dour Lacklan Family Portraits!”
“When did she even find time to DO all of this?”
“Babe, you have GOT to get her OUT of here.”
Sarah sighs as she places the overwhelmingly conservative bra back on the rack.
“I can’t, Beloved. She-”
“Babe, I love you, but I HATE the way you cower to her. We used to FIGHT her! Bitch made me eat a DOG!”
Sarah looks back up at Kenzi, her odd red eyes again flaming.
“And look where that got us! A split family! Chaos amongst my siblings! I tried to KILL Angelica last year! LOVE is what we need, Kenzi! And that means LIVING that message to Mumsie and not just TELLING her.”
“Oh, I’ll tell her SOMETHING!”
Kenzi clenches her fists and turns on her heel, but Sarah reaches out and holds her in place. She pulls Kenzi to her, wrapping her in an embrace which is one part the softness of a lover and one part a wrestler’s tight grip from a rear waistlock. She leans her weight backward, forcing them away from the door, and presses her back to the wall. After a moment, Kenzi’s body relaxes and her weight falls gently and firmly into Sarah’s.
“Listen...Mumsie won’t be here much longer. Just like a week...tops! And we won’t even be here for most of it! I have a fight on Monday...and I hear that there is this amazingly yummy thing in Kentucky called a Hot Brown that we can get on Thursdays, and-”
“Lets go! Right now!”
“....what?”
“NOW! If we leave NOW, we can spend even LESS time with Ava than we would have to!”
Sarah smiles wide.
“Excellent idea! But ‘now’ will mean ‘tomorrow morning.’ After Church with Mumsie, of course!”
Kenzi can only groan.
Monday, June 8th
Carver Hawkeye Arena, Iowa City, Iowa
SLAM! The leg, thick and corded with muscle from nearly a decade of lower body dedication, slams into the back, causing a vibration to course through both leg and back. The woman on the ground, her hair shining a tinge of blue in the bright lights above, screams out in pain as her face contorts and her shoulders jut backward from the blow. The standing woman, odd red eyes standing out against a pale white face, smiles wide with lips painted to match her eyes.
The standing woman runs as hard as she can, strong legs helping her gain sudden speed, and rebounds off the ropes. As she runs back towards the center of the ring, she swings her leg behind her body, pivots her left foot, and swings the right leg forward with as much momentum as she can, driving her shin into the sitting woman’s chest.
The standing woman crouches, waiting, as the other holds her chest and gets to her feet, then slides down, catching the woman’s legs with her own, and scissors, forcing her to land on her face. A quick pop of her hips and she has the woman pinned, but not for long enough. She pulls the woman up, turns her upside down as she yanks, and holds her head under her arm.
She thrusts all of her weight downward, slamming the back of the woman’s head into the mat. This time, she presses as much of her weight as possible on the woman’s chest while hooking her nearest leg.
Three times, a hand slaps the mat.
The roar from the crowd was mixed, as always.
Out of the ring, through down the ramp, and through the curtain.
“Babe!”
The sudden embrace pushes Sarah out of her daze, the crush of both softness and hardness from Kenzi sending her “berserker rage,” as they had come to think of it, back down into the depths of her body, where it will rest until her next fight.
“Great job out there! That’s 100 singles matches!”
Fully coming to herself, Sarah squeezes Kenzi back before pushing her slightly away so that she can press her sweaty forehead against Kenzi’s. They both close their eyes as they gently rub their heads against one another, a gesture of intimacy from their very first days over three years ago.
“With 100 more to go!”
Kenzi grimaces slightly at that, but she puts on a large smile as they pull their heads away from one another.
“Hurry up and shower! I’ve got a table booked at that wing place we saw before we got here. We have just enough time!”
“You be-”
Sarah’s voice is drowned out by the roar of the crowd on the other side of the curtain as the heavy guitars of Slayer play across the P.A. Kenzi raises her eyebrow in question by Sarah waves a dismissive hand and winks.
“That’s just some dark match no one cares about!”
Into the back they go, for Sarah to wash away the grime of her 176th match in the last 3 ½ years. Into an unnecessarily puffy dress of black and red to provide counterpoint to Kenzi’s simple miniskirt and lacy shirt. Into the rental car to drive far too fast to the Buffalo Wild Wings. Seated at a table with an assortment of wings, Kenzi’s preferred Organic Michelob Ultra and Sarah’s half carafe of Cabernet-Sauvignon. Eyes on a large television set showing a certain Leggy Blonde of Legend fighting a crazed and unstoppable monster on PPV.
“Yeah!”
Sarah stands up and screams with a clenched fist, her other hand spilling some wine on the table, as the blonde pins the monster’s shoulders to the ground.
“Uh oh”
Kenzi’s cautious voice gives Sarah pause, and after a few seconds, what was once clear becomes a jump of confusion: A double pinfall. The monster had, at the same time, pinned the blonde’s shoulders to the mat. Sarah sits down and takes a long drought of her wine as the commentators on the television orate over replays, and Sarah’s hand trembles in anticipation. But, eventually, it is announced that, due to the double pinfall, her sister was still a recognized World Champion.
“Whew!” Sarah’s outtake of air is strong as she slumps in her chair and wipes the sweat from her brow. “That was CLOSE! Remind me to DP my sister and give her some tips on how to actually BEAT Hide Yamazaki, and not how to just SURVIVE him.”
Kenzi shakes her head and opens her mouth to say something, likely some retort about how, perhaps, she would instead ask Angelica Vaughn for tips on how to beat Sarah Lacklan, but, oh wait, Kenzi Grey had already done that, but then stops as Sarah begins to gather her belongings.
“Where are you going?”
“The hotel! C’mon, lets get out of here.”
Kenzi’s eyes scrunch in incredultiy as she points to the large television above their heads.
“What?! But its time for the Massive Melee! I love watching this thing!”
Sarah shakes her head as she stands and hooks her YSL bag over her shoulder.
“ZERO interest, Beloved!”
Kenzi’s eyes narrow.
“We haven’t even finished our food! These wings are EXPENSIVE, Sar, and I-”
Kenzi cuts off as Sarah blatantly lowers her top and shows that, no, she is NOT wearing one of those god-awful bras her stepmother left for her.
“Or, counterpoint, we could get back to the hotel as soon as possible for a celebratory sexytimes marathon session. I’ll let us try to break Raab’s record!”
“CHECK PLEASE!”
Sarah can’t help but giggle at the sudden expediency in Kenzi’s voice. Check settled, the two are out the door and in the rental car, speeding away as fast as possible to-
“GODDAMNIT!”
Standing outside the hotel, their car parked and their bags in hand, Sarah’s face is flushed with rage as she stares up at the sign of the hotel.
Econo Lodge.
“I got us a GREAT deal, babe! I still get my discount from when I did all those ads for them in 2018!”
Sarah seethes at being at the financially responsible hotel, instead of at something made by Waldorf, but she quickly follows when Kenzi walks through the doors and “innocently” wags her hips in Sarah’s direction. When it came to “the sweetest booty in all the land,” Sarah would eternally be the moth to the flame.
HIIIIIII-iiiiiiii!
This is your reason for being, the face that makes, like, a bajillion ships sail, the owner of the #SquattestBooty in ALL of the A-P-Dub, the smacker of the SWEETEST booty in ALLLLLL the land, Sarah Lacklan-
((piano notes ascend up the scale and end with the twinkling of a bell)
-MARKETING GENIUS-
((a trumpet fanfare, this time))
-and I am HERE on my old vlog to talk to my A-P-Dub peeps about a few things. You see, I am a couple of weeks removed from my KILLER vacay with my Beloved, wherein we tried LOTS of yummy foods (and I ONLY wrestled four times! That is GREAT restraint by me, all things considered!), and after said vacay, I decided that it was time to reach back into my wrestling roots (more on that in a sec) and do some freelancing, which includes here, obviously.
Now, MOST of you people (and yes I said YOU PEOPLE) know that I’m a second generation wrestler, but I haven’t really divulged what that MEANS in any real sense. My family goes a LOOOOOOONG way back as far as America goes, back to the Founders, and we have MOSTLY been about Industry (yes, Daddy, with a capital I), which has included businesses mostly in the way of canning (we love our seafood in New England!), which makes us Old Money (though very much New Money by England standards; I got to say hello to a couple of cousins when we hung out for Kingdom Come!). But! Oh, BUT! Daddy decided at a young age that he was going to be something OTHER than just the next Lacklan businessman. Oh, he had plenty of acumen there (he acquired a LOT of land, but THAT is a story for another day!), but his REAL love was physical health and competition. He traveled all over the world preaching the Word of God as it pertained to wrestling (THAT will be explained another time, too!), and he drug me with him for a LOT of it. Mumsie sacrificed herself so that I could come into the world (yeah, not getting into THAT for the Alpha Bros, either!), so it was just Daddy and me (well, and all the servants, of course; being rich is great, I highly recommend it), so we spent a LOT of time together on the road. And THAT is where I got the itch.
Daddy didn’t want me to wrestle, mind you. I grew up with private tutors, dance instructors, voice coaches. I was killer at the Arts, history, psychology. My job was to be a representative of our home and church (again, not wasting THAT stuff on the Wonder Twins!), to be the “princess” who worked in society and the state. But that drive of his? To wrestle around the world? To show the people what a TRUE hero looked like? To give the world the TRUTH of the Word? It was as deep in me as it was him. He eventually gave in, helped train me alongside a hand-picked person to teach me how to navigate a male-dominated sport (love and miss you, Nikita!), and was there to see me begin to set the world on fire.
I have been relatively stable in the last year or so. In a few days, I will have wrestled in twenty different companies in my career, but most of 2019 and the first half of this year was only in a couple, and the itch to push myself away from that stability has grown to strong. The road! Oh, the road! With my Beloved at my side, nothing but the road in front of us, fighting the world across the world! Nothing is sweeter. Nothing satisfies like that. And, let us be honest, you A-P-Dub peeps should be thankful that Irina threw herself at our feet the way she did.
“Oh! Comrades! I must have you, yes!”
After I explained to her that, yes, I was flattered but I am a happily married woman, and she recovered from her embarrassment (but not her desire! I can see it in her eyes…), she still busted out that contract so fast that the tree the paper came from hadn’t even fallen, yet! And in that time, you have been gifted with some EXCELLENT wrestling. Sure, yeah, things didn’t exACTLY go as planned when it came to Giggles and Jimmy Bird (that was NOT funny, Giggles!), but there isn’t a whole lot of shame involved in getting caught by the giant’s surprise. But since then, you’ve been gifted with the UNDEFEATED (in A-P-Dub) team of the 5’2” Mafia (NOT the 52 Mafia, Latoya...learn to read, please!), PLUS something SPECIAL that happened last week:
I brought truth to the lie of L and her stupid shit
And so we are all clear: I want nothing to do with her bullshit garbage nonsense
I was born to main event grand halls, dearie, not rut in the flaming garbage pile that is hardcore wrestling. I appreciate that you want the opportunity to save your face, but that’s not my fault
Besides, if we DID get booked with your garbage title on the line, I would LOATHE to embarrass you by taking all of your idiotic toys, setting them on fire, and winning the stupid title with a lock-up transitioned into a schoolgirl. I don’t think you’d ever be able to recover from that!
Instead, the 5’2” Mafia, Team Kickass, the G-Ls themselves, are facing the Alpha Bros. Now, I imagine everyone is expecting me to break down their abysmal record (0-3, bay-bay!) or how they only exist to give a boost to First Season rejects (still can’t believe you guys booked Ultimate Destroyer so often!), or how they are so underdeveloped as a team that they even make Blade and Hixx look like the goddamn Man Made Gods, but I’m not going to. No, I am going to tell you about a truly remarkable thing they have, a peculiar institution (bonus points to history and/or econ buffs who know that term!) which could, if they would get their acts together, separate themselves from the tag team pack:
Intimacy.
An advantage that Kenzi had I have always had is our intimacy. We don’t just TAG together, we LIVE together. Like, ever noticed the difference between a pair of ice skaters who are just partners versus a pair who are married? The married couple (usually in ice dancing, I know, stfu and let me use my analogy!) move WAY more fluid! That’s Kenzi and I. We have been virtually inseparable for the last three and a half years and that has meant a partnership where we nearly occupy one mind. But! Oh, BUT! The Alpha Bros? They LITERALLY do! Twins! Identical twins! BIG identical twins! They could, if they drove themselves, move with a fluidity which would defy physics as we know it! It would be like the Corsican Bros! They wouldn’t need to think, wouldn’t need to talk, wouldn’t need to do ANYTHING but feel!.
That level of intimacy is something to KILL for. Teams who consider themselves family, brothers and sisters, train over and again in the hopes of getting close to that intimacy. Married couples, such as my Beloved and I, get FAR closer, as we share every moment of our lives, from training to watching television (Once More, With Feeling>The Gift) to brushing our teeth. But the twins? The same person spread across two bodies since BIRTH. And that is a formidable prospect to stand across the ring from. But, as we all know, the Bros haven’t been able to ACTUALIZE any of that potential. And they aren’t going to be able to do it on Monday, either. Because we-
((Creeeeeek…...WHAM!))
Why the FUCK is Redd GODDAMN Thunder sleeping on MY couch wearing nothing but a Speedo?!
Er...um…Un instant s'il vous plaît, everyone…
Beloved! Darling and considerate wife! Whatever is the-
Don’t hand me that! We JUST got rid of your mother! Why is HE here?!
He needed a place to stay! His wife dropped him and-
He ate all my porkrinds!
Beloved, I doubt he-
HE IS LITERALLY COVERED IN PORKRIND DUST, SELENA!
FINE! You want more porkrinds?!
((keys jingle)
I’ll go get you more porkrinds!
That’s not the point!
((heeled boots stomping))
Oh no! I would HATE for you to not have any porkrinds!
((SLAM))
Kenzi is incensed at her wife’s reckless disregard for her opinion on allowing, yet another man, to come and crash at the home they had built together. Of course, it was just Sarah being Sarah, but it did fly in the face of her whole argument about how ‘in sync’ the two of them were. It had been enough to get them past Blade and Hixx, but The Alpha Bros would be an entirely different matter.
Kenzi starts to leave, when she notices that Sarah’s V-Log is still on. She contemplates turning it off, but a wicked smile turns up the corners of her mouth. She makes her way over, looking around to make sure that Sarah hadn’t reneged on her promise of making an unscheduled pork rind run. Feeling secure, she settles in to address her wife’s loyal followers, imitating her wife’s exaggerated intro…
HIIIIIII-iiiiiiii!
This is my wife’s reason for being, the calm center of the raging hurricane that is about to blow through A-P-Dub, Kenzi-
She pauses, looking around for the sound machine to punch up her intro like Sarah’s. When she hits the button, instead of piano notes and bells, she is greeted with; “SARAH IS THE BEST, SARAH #1!”
Kenzi can only sigh and roll her eyes as she addresses the captive masses…
I know for a FACT that Sarah was on here talking to you NERDS about how our bond is what probably put us over the top against John and Latoya or about how she hopes it will be enough to put us on equal footing with a team of legit brothers. But let’s not kid ourselves, the Alpha Bros are a stepping stone for the 5’2” Mafia to go to 2 and 0 and get one step closer to those Tag Team Championships. We know it, you know it, and so does Alpha Pro Wrestling. The Alpha Bros are this, the Alpha Bros are that, but at the end of the day, the Alpha Bros are 0-3 and come Tuesday morning they still won’t have a win and The 5’2” Mafia will still be undefeated and still be the best damn tag team in the company, regardless of whether we had faced the two worst teams in the company or we had faced Man Made Gods themselves! Call me crazy or call me a liar, but numbers don’t lie. The two of us have held championships individually and together all over the planet and APW isn’t going to be the exception, it’s just going to prove the rule!
The 5’2” Mafia will bide its time, giving you little glimpses into the insanity of our lives; irritating family members, uninvited house guests, and cabinets devoid of delicious pork rinds. But sooner or later the narrative will change and it won’t be about the chase…it will be about a fourth team title reign and about how the team to beat became unbeatable!
Kenzi pauses…
Unless Sar comes back empty handed…then I’m gonna beat that #SquatBooty all over this house!
Kenzi reaches over and abruptly shuts off the stream.
“The Egg,” West Hollywood, CA
“I WANT THAT WOMAN OUT OF MY HOUSE!!!!”
Sarah Grey-Lacklan lets out a long sigh as her shoulders slump. The Californian heat, stifling to the New England-born albino, was suffocating as it was, and causing a sheen layer of sweat to cover her pale skin, but it was nothing compared to the furnace of angry fire that had just burst into the room. Sarah slowly turns in her chair, a circular stool a few inches off the ground, and away from the canvas where the outline of a new painting of a blooming rose would have to wait until later. Her odd red eyes fill with the vision of Kenzi Grey-Lacklan’s mass of dark microbraids waving around in the air with fierce agitation, as if she were the Predator in search of Dutch for the revenge of her lost lover. Sarah’s body fills with its own inner heat, as it always did when gazing upon the caramel-skinned woman, but she is forced to tamp it down and put on a face of innocence.
“Whatever is the problem, Beloved?”
Kenzi’s chocolate eyes widen in a disbelief as she shakes a cabinet drawer.
“‘Whatever is the problem?!’ Oh, you do NOT hand me THAT crap! Just LOOK at this, Selena! LOOK!”
Kenzi turns the drawer over in her hands and dumps out the contents. Sarah’s body fills with heat again as she sees a number of pieces of lingerie fall to the hardwood floor of their shared office upstairs...her favorite was the Patriots-inspired teddy that was the result of a lost bet...but they were quickly covered up by several massive sweatshirts with French flags across the bosom. Sarah does her best to hide her smile as Kenzi kicks the pile of oversized sweaters and has to bite down hard on her lips when Kenzi nearly falls in the process.
“ALL of my lingerie! Gone! Well, except for that shitty Patriots crap you forced me to wear!”
“...you lost a bet…”
“And instead, Mrs. Frenchie McStickUpHerAss replaced them with THIS crap!”
Kenzi kicks the piles of sweaters again.
“I am SO sick of your sexist, racist, BIGOTED mother, Babe! She treats me like CRAP!”
“Hey! You’re not the ONLY one who has to deal with her nonsense!”
Sarah stands up after firing back and stomps out of the room, with Kenzi right behind her. Out of their smaller office and into their bedroom, a surprisingly small space mostly dominated by a garishly opulent King-sized bed with four corner posts covered with more red and black lace than any six Disney Princesses combined, and to one of their three closets.
“Just LOOK at this nonsense!”
Sarah opens one of the doors and takes them into a walk-in closet at least three times larger than their office, a closet filled with racks of Sarah’s hand-hewn dresses, her entire line of turn-of-the-20th-century “Firestarter” dresses in a variety of colors, each with the puffiest of sleeves, and motions towards the second rack. Several dozen bras hang from several hangers, each showing the French flag, and all sturdy and thick. She holds one up and shakes it.
“ALL of my corsets just HAPPEN to be missing and replaced with THESE monstrosities! My God! Just LOOK at how THICK these things are!”
Kenzi’s eyes narrow for a second as she looks away.
“...well, perhaps if you actually wore a bra once and a while, she wouldn’t need to get you some…”
“#FreeTheNipple!”
“Don’t you ‘hashtag’ me!”
The two stare at one another, flaming daggers in their eyes, and then they both break the glare with a smile.
“I saw that she sewed little flags over all of your lower-cut halters.”
“And our pictures! All of the pictures on our wall with even the TINIEST bit of skin have been replaced with our dour Lacklan Family Portraits!”
“When did she even find time to DO all of this?”
“Babe, you have GOT to get her OUT of here.”
Sarah sighs as she places the overwhelmingly conservative bra back on the rack.
“I can’t, Beloved. She-”
“Babe, I love you, but I HATE the way you cower to her. We used to FIGHT her! Bitch made me eat a DOG!”
Sarah looks back up at Kenzi, her odd red eyes again flaming.
“And look where that got us! A split family! Chaos amongst my siblings! I tried to KILL Angelica last year! LOVE is what we need, Kenzi! And that means LIVING that message to Mumsie and not just TELLING her.”
“Oh, I’ll tell her SOMETHING!”
Kenzi clenches her fists and turns on her heel, but Sarah reaches out and holds her in place. She pulls Kenzi to her, wrapping her in an embrace which is one part the softness of a lover and one part a wrestler’s tight grip from a rear waistlock. She leans her weight backward, forcing them away from the door, and presses her back to the wall. After a moment, Kenzi’s body relaxes and her weight falls gently and firmly into Sarah’s.
“Listen...Mumsie won’t be here much longer. Just like a week...tops! And we won’t even be here for most of it! I have a fight on Monday...and I hear that there is this amazingly yummy thing in Kentucky called a Hot Brown that we can get on Thursdays, and-”
“Lets go! Right now!”
“....what?”
“NOW! If we leave NOW, we can spend even LESS time with Ava than we would have to!”
Sarah smiles wide.
“Excellent idea! But ‘now’ will mean ‘tomorrow morning.’ After Church with Mumsie, of course!”
Kenzi can only groan.
Monday, June 8th
Carver Hawkeye Arena, Iowa City, Iowa
feel it
breathe it
remember it
drive them into the Abyss
Three times, a hand slaps the mat.
The roar from the crowd was mixed, as always.
the mirror is a harsh taskmaster
“Babe!”
The sudden embrace pushes Sarah out of her daze, the crush of both softness and hardness from Kenzi sending her “berserker rage,” as they had come to think of it, back down into the depths of her body, where it will rest until her next fight.
“Great job out there! That’s 100 singles matches!”
Fully coming to herself, Sarah squeezes Kenzi back before pushing her slightly away so that she can press her sweaty forehead against Kenzi’s. They both close their eyes as they gently rub their heads against one another, a gesture of intimacy from their very first days over three years ago.
“With 100 more to go!”
Kenzi grimaces slightly at that, but she puts on a large smile as they pull their heads away from one another.
“Hurry up and shower! I’ve got a table booked at that wing place we saw before we got here. We have just enough time!”
“You be-”
Sarah’s voice is drowned out by the roar of the crowd on the other side of the curtain as the heavy guitars of Slayer play across the P.A. Kenzi raises her eyebrow in question by Sarah waves a dismissive hand and winks.
“That’s just some dark match no one cares about!”
Into the back they go, for Sarah to wash away the grime of her 176th match in the last 3 ½ years. Into an unnecessarily puffy dress of black and red to provide counterpoint to Kenzi’s simple miniskirt and lacy shirt. Into the rental car to drive far too fast to the Buffalo Wild Wings. Seated at a table with an assortment of wings, Kenzi’s preferred Organic Michelob Ultra and Sarah’s half carafe of Cabernet-Sauvignon. Eyes on a large television set showing a certain Leggy Blonde of Legend fighting a crazed and unstoppable monster on PPV.
“Yeah!”
Sarah stands up and screams with a clenched fist, her other hand spilling some wine on the table, as the blonde pins the monster’s shoulders to the ground.
“Uh oh”
Kenzi’s cautious voice gives Sarah pause, and after a few seconds, what was once clear becomes a jump of confusion: A double pinfall. The monster had, at the same time, pinned the blonde’s shoulders to the mat. Sarah sits down and takes a long drought of her wine as the commentators on the television orate over replays, and Sarah’s hand trembles in anticipation. But, eventually, it is announced that, due to the double pinfall, her sister was still a recognized World Champion.
“Whew!” Sarah’s outtake of air is strong as she slumps in her chair and wipes the sweat from her brow. “That was CLOSE! Remind me to DP my sister and give her some tips on how to actually BEAT Hide Yamazaki, and not how to just SURVIVE him.”
Kenzi shakes her head and opens her mouth to say something, likely some retort about how, perhaps, she would instead ask Angelica Vaughn for tips on how to beat Sarah Lacklan, but, oh wait, Kenzi Grey had already done that, but then stops as Sarah begins to gather her belongings.
“Where are you going?”
“The hotel! C’mon, lets get out of here.”
Kenzi’s eyes scrunch in incredultiy as she points to the large television above their heads.
“What?! But its time for the Massive Melee! I love watching this thing!”
Sarah shakes her head as she stands and hooks her YSL bag over her shoulder.
“ZERO interest, Beloved!”
Kenzi’s eyes narrow.
“We haven’t even finished our food! These wings are EXPENSIVE, Sar, and I-”
Kenzi cuts off as Sarah blatantly lowers her top and shows that, no, she is NOT wearing one of those god-awful bras her stepmother left for her.
“Or, counterpoint, we could get back to the hotel as soon as possible for a celebratory sexytimes marathon session. I’ll let us try to break Raab’s record!”
“CHECK PLEASE!”
Sarah can’t help but giggle at the sudden expediency in Kenzi’s voice. Check settled, the two are out the door and in the rental car, speeding away as fast as possible to-
“GODDAMNIT!”
Standing outside the hotel, their car parked and their bags in hand, Sarah’s face is flushed with rage as she stares up at the sign of the hotel.
Econo Lodge.
“I got us a GREAT deal, babe! I still get my discount from when I did all those ads for them in 2018!”
Sarah seethes at being at the financially responsible hotel, instead of at something made by Waldorf, but she quickly follows when Kenzi walks through the doors and “innocently” wags her hips in Sarah’s direction. When it came to “the sweetest booty in all the land,” Sarah would eternally be the moth to the flame.
HIIIIIII-iiiiiiii!
This is your reason for being, the face that makes, like, a bajillion ships sail, the owner of the #SquattestBooty in ALL of the A-P-Dub, the smacker of the SWEETEST booty in ALLLLLL the land, Sarah Lacklan-
((piano notes ascend up the scale and end with the twinkling of a bell)
-MARKETING GENIUS-
((a trumpet fanfare, this time))
-and I am HERE on my old vlog to talk to my A-P-Dub peeps about a few things. You see, I am a couple of weeks removed from my KILLER vacay with my Beloved, wherein we tried LOTS of yummy foods (and I ONLY wrestled four times! That is GREAT restraint by me, all things considered!), and after said vacay, I decided that it was time to reach back into my wrestling roots (more on that in a sec) and do some freelancing, which includes here, obviously.
Now, MOST of you people (and yes I said YOU PEOPLE) know that I’m a second generation wrestler, but I haven’t really divulged what that MEANS in any real sense. My family goes a LOOOOOOONG way back as far as America goes, back to the Founders, and we have MOSTLY been about Industry (yes, Daddy, with a capital I), which has included businesses mostly in the way of canning (we love our seafood in New England!), which makes us Old Money (though very much New Money by England standards; I got to say hello to a couple of cousins when we hung out for Kingdom Come!). But! Oh, BUT! Daddy decided at a young age that he was going to be something OTHER than just the next Lacklan businessman. Oh, he had plenty of acumen there (he acquired a LOT of land, but THAT is a story for another day!), but his REAL love was physical health and competition. He traveled all over the world preaching the Word of God as it pertained to wrestling (THAT will be explained another time, too!), and he drug me with him for a LOT of it. Mumsie sacrificed herself so that I could come into the world (yeah, not getting into THAT for the Alpha Bros, either!), so it was just Daddy and me (well, and all the servants, of course; being rich is great, I highly recommend it), so we spent a LOT of time together on the road. And THAT is where I got the itch.
Daddy didn’t want me to wrestle, mind you. I grew up with private tutors, dance instructors, voice coaches. I was killer at the Arts, history, psychology. My job was to be a representative of our home and church (again, not wasting THAT stuff on the Wonder Twins!), to be the “princess” who worked in society and the state. But that drive of his? To wrestle around the world? To show the people what a TRUE hero looked like? To give the world the TRUTH of the Word? It was as deep in me as it was him. He eventually gave in, helped train me alongside a hand-picked person to teach me how to navigate a male-dominated sport (love and miss you, Nikita!), and was there to see me begin to set the world on fire.
I have been relatively stable in the last year or so. In a few days, I will have wrestled in twenty different companies in my career, but most of 2019 and the first half of this year was only in a couple, and the itch to push myself away from that stability has grown to strong. The road! Oh, the road! With my Beloved at my side, nothing but the road in front of us, fighting the world across the world! Nothing is sweeter. Nothing satisfies like that. And, let us be honest, you A-P-Dub peeps should be thankful that Irina threw herself at our feet the way she did.
“Oh! Comrades! I must have you, yes!”
After I explained to her that, yes, I was flattered but I am a happily married woman, and she recovered from her embarrassment (but not her desire! I can see it in her eyes…), she still busted out that contract so fast that the tree the paper came from hadn’t even fallen, yet! And in that time, you have been gifted with some EXCELLENT wrestling. Sure, yeah, things didn’t exACTLY go as planned when it came to Giggles and Jimmy Bird (that was NOT funny, Giggles!), but there isn’t a whole lot of shame involved in getting caught by the giant’s surprise. But since then, you’ve been gifted with the UNDEFEATED (in A-P-Dub) team of the 5’2” Mafia (NOT the 52 Mafia, Latoya...learn to read, please!), PLUS something SPECIAL that happened last week:
I brought truth to the lie of L and her stupid shit
And so we are all clear: I want nothing to do with her bullshit garbage nonsense
I was born to main event grand halls, dearie, not rut in the flaming garbage pile that is hardcore wrestling. I appreciate that you want the opportunity to save your face, but that’s not my fault
Besides, if we DID get booked with your garbage title on the line, I would LOATHE to embarrass you by taking all of your idiotic toys, setting them on fire, and winning the stupid title with a lock-up transitioned into a schoolgirl. I don’t think you’d ever be able to recover from that!
Instead, the 5’2” Mafia, Team Kickass, the G-Ls themselves, are facing the Alpha Bros. Now, I imagine everyone is expecting me to break down their abysmal record (0-3, bay-bay!) or how they only exist to give a boost to First Season rejects (still can’t believe you guys booked Ultimate Destroyer so often!), or how they are so underdeveloped as a team that they even make Blade and Hixx look like the goddamn Man Made Gods, but I’m not going to. No, I am going to tell you about a truly remarkable thing they have, a peculiar institution (bonus points to history and/or econ buffs who know that term!) which could, if they would get their acts together, separate themselves from the tag team pack:
Intimacy.
An advantage that Kenzi had I have always had is our intimacy. We don’t just TAG together, we LIVE together. Like, ever noticed the difference between a pair of ice skaters who are just partners versus a pair who are married? The married couple (usually in ice dancing, I know, stfu and let me use my analogy!) move WAY more fluid! That’s Kenzi and I. We have been virtually inseparable for the last three and a half years and that has meant a partnership where we nearly occupy one mind. But! Oh, BUT! The Alpha Bros? They LITERALLY do! Twins! Identical twins! BIG identical twins! They could, if they drove themselves, move with a fluidity which would defy physics as we know it! It would be like the Corsican Bros! They wouldn’t need to think, wouldn’t need to talk, wouldn’t need to do ANYTHING but feel!.
That level of intimacy is something to KILL for. Teams who consider themselves family, brothers and sisters, train over and again in the hopes of getting close to that intimacy. Married couples, such as my Beloved and I, get FAR closer, as we share every moment of our lives, from training to watching television (Once More, With Feeling>The Gift) to brushing our teeth. But the twins? The same person spread across two bodies since BIRTH. And that is a formidable prospect to stand across the ring from. But, as we all know, the Bros haven’t been able to ACTUALIZE any of that potential. And they aren’t going to be able to do it on Monday, either. Because we-
((Creeeeeek…...WHAM!))
Why the FUCK is Redd GODDAMN Thunder sleeping on MY couch wearing nothing but a Speedo?!
Er...um…Un instant s'il vous plaît, everyone…
Beloved! Darling and considerate wife! Whatever is the-
Don’t hand me that! We JUST got rid of your mother! Why is HE here?!
He needed a place to stay! His wife dropped him and-
He ate all my porkrinds!
Beloved, I doubt he-
HE IS LITERALLY COVERED IN PORKRIND DUST, SELENA!
FINE! You want more porkrinds?!
((keys jingle)
I’ll go get you more porkrinds!
That’s not the point!
((heeled boots stomping))
Oh no! I would HATE for you to not have any porkrinds!
((SLAM))
Kenzi is incensed at her wife’s reckless disregard for her opinion on allowing, yet another man, to come and crash at the home they had built together. Of course, it was just Sarah being Sarah, but it did fly in the face of her whole argument about how ‘in sync’ the two of them were. It had been enough to get them past Blade and Hixx, but The Alpha Bros would be an entirely different matter.
Kenzi starts to leave, when she notices that Sarah’s V-Log is still on. She contemplates turning it off, but a wicked smile turns up the corners of her mouth. She makes her way over, looking around to make sure that Sarah hadn’t reneged on her promise of making an unscheduled pork rind run. Feeling secure, she settles in to address her wife’s loyal followers, imitating her wife’s exaggerated intro…
HIIIIIII-iiiiiiii!
This is my wife’s reason for being, the calm center of the raging hurricane that is about to blow through A-P-Dub, Kenzi-
She pauses, looking around for the sound machine to punch up her intro like Sarah’s. When she hits the button, instead of piano notes and bells, she is greeted with; “SARAH IS THE BEST, SARAH #1!”
Kenzi can only sigh and roll her eyes as she addresses the captive masses…
I know for a FACT that Sarah was on here talking to you NERDS about how our bond is what probably put us over the top against John and Latoya or about how she hopes it will be enough to put us on equal footing with a team of legit brothers. But let’s not kid ourselves, the Alpha Bros are a stepping stone for the 5’2” Mafia to go to 2 and 0 and get one step closer to those Tag Team Championships. We know it, you know it, and so does Alpha Pro Wrestling. The Alpha Bros are this, the Alpha Bros are that, but at the end of the day, the Alpha Bros are 0-3 and come Tuesday morning they still won’t have a win and The 5’2” Mafia will still be undefeated and still be the best damn tag team in the company, regardless of whether we had faced the two worst teams in the company or we had faced Man Made Gods themselves! Call me crazy or call me a liar, but numbers don’t lie. The two of us have held championships individually and together all over the planet and APW isn’t going to be the exception, it’s just going to prove the rule!
The 5’2” Mafia will bide its time, giving you little glimpses into the insanity of our lives; irritating family members, uninvited house guests, and cabinets devoid of delicious pork rinds. But sooner or later the narrative will change and it won’t be about the chase…it will be about a fourth team title reign and about how the team to beat became unbeatable!
Kenzi pauses…
Unless Sar comes back empty handed…then I’m gonna beat that #SquatBooty all over this house!
Kenzi reaches over and abruptly shuts off the stream.
