LES ENFANTS TERRIBLES....
....The Terrible Children
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OFF CAMERA – BAD MOON RISING
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=Tracy Sin sat upon the metal bench of their locker room as Becky Mercy paced back and forth. She wasn't really paying attention to what Becky was ranting about. She knew full well what it was. They came up empty handed. The lost the match and it wasn't even to a pair of individuals that either one of them could even possibly respect. Tracy knew the only reason she even held the two championships she's ever had were due to circumstance. She thought back to her first singles title reign in Mexico.
In her mind she was transported back to that moment in twenty-thirteen, standing across the ring from a masked idiot by the name of Máscara Roja or Red Mask. Well the mask was red but he was a muscular, drunken fool. The promoter, Diablo Rosa had, at that point, had enough of his antics of showing up to shows drunk and representing her promotion, Diablo Grande Lucha Libre. So she tasked Tracy with one job, remove him from power.
Tracy went after him with animalistic ferocity, battering and beating him to a bloody pulp in the ring. He was so far gone and drunk that literally anyone could have been champion that night. When Ms. Sin was done with him, he was laid out, flat on his back and twitching. Before pinning him, however, she did one thing that was no part of Rosa's plan. Tracy de-laced and removed his mask, taking his power and then revealing him to the crowd with a lift of his head off the canvas. She bit down on his cheek only to finally be pulled back by the referee on a count of four before drawing more blood.
Sin then backed up and ran at him with a roar, leaping up into the air despite her near four hundred pound girth at the time, and throwing that considerable mass upon his back with a monstrous impact. Moments later, she was the champion, holding both Roja's mask and his championship high over her head. At the time, it was an accomplishment in her life. The joy, the happiness she felt for that fleeting moment in her life would never be matched again.
The week that followed, she wound up crushed by El Tank, a woman just as massive as her, but a long time veteran in the wrestling business. Her championship ripped away in an instant. It was at that moment that Tracy decided to seek tutelage and guidance. She needed help to be a better wrestler. Though Diablo had been blinded with a fireball trick that had gone horribly wrong and essentially retired from wrestling, she could still instruct others with assistance.
The sessions were grueling and brutal, but focused on helping Tracy best use her primary weapon, her mass, to her full advantage. It was roughly three months of the most intense brutality that Tracy had ever endured, but one thing that Diablo Rosa said has stuck with her to this day;
“
To be the Beast that men fear, you have to be more than a woman and stronger than any man, not just physically but mentally. When you are in the ring, you must be without fear, for if you hesitate because of doubt and uncertainty, that fear will crush you, Tracy. I know that you have the weakness of hubris and revel in the rending of blood and flesh, but you must focus yourself and turn that weakness into an asset when the need is most dire.”
Tracy slowly nodded her head, “
Yes, Ms. Rosa.” The woman had a fearsome reputation until she was blinded, but even Tracy knew to show her respects to a mexican wrestling legend, fallen or otherwise. Diablo was still able to work and Tracy learned first hand why you didn't cross her.
“
ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME, TRACYKINS?!” Becky's sudden shout broke her from her moment of reflection and Tracy's head lifted with an angry scowl. This actually made Becky pause before unleashing what was to be a bit of a bitchy tirade.
“
No,” was Tracy's simple reply.
“
Oh ha ha, very funny,” She stuck her tongue out at Tracy, “
How could they beat us? We took hits, but we were mauling everybody, even your buddy Mikael!”
“
Our Hubris was our downfall,” Tracy said, “
We were too caught up in the destruction to notice the Mimes sneak in and steal what was ours.”
“
Hubris, what do you mean hubris?!” Becky said with anger and confusion. She stopped pacing, tilting her head a bit at Tracy.
“
We got cocky and arrogant, Becklynn. It was the same thing that cost us in The Pitt. We both know better, but still we couldn't stop ourselves and just kept going after those who had insulted and belittled us. I'll admit, taking Mikael down a peg certainly felt great, but if we had focused... we'd have won.”
“
But I was having so much fun, Tracykins!” Becky stomped her foot with a bit of a pout.
“
This isn't about having fun anymore,” Tracy replied while rising to her feet. She walked up to her partner and friend with a stern look in her eye.
“
It used to be...”
“
No, we have to make a statement. We can't just 'beat' the Mimes. We have to destroy them. We have to break out the shovel and bury them just like everyone else who crossed us... wronged us....”
“
You're right, Tracykins. Rusty hasn't seen a new face since Ursula Von Rossbach,” Becky's face lit up with maniacal glee as she referred to her favorite shovel.
Tracy nodded slowly and added, “
These French fucks need to be put in their place. We've screamed, chewed, and clawed with blood soaked fingernails for too long. It's time to put the nails in their coffins and preside over their fucking FUNERAL!”
Becky giggled, “....
Just like Angel Kash...”
“...
And Ursula Von Rossbach...”
“...
and everyone else that deserved their fate.”
How poigniant that last statement was as the two exited the locker room together for the night.
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OFF CAMERA – Tracy's Home – Sometime in 2005
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=She was twenty one when she was released from the Nevada State Asylum and what Tracy returned to was anything but what she remembered. Released into her mother's custody, she learned that her mother and father had divorced and that her actions at the prom three years prior had been at the heart of it all. Her mother had become bitter from the experience and treated Tracy as if she were a burden. Gone was the supportive, peaceful woman that was Tracy's mother, Chelsey. Her mother now worked as a cook at the local Denny's diner and could barely afford the small, two bedroom home they now lived in. It was a far cry from the two story Vegas suburbian paradise they once had. They now lived out closer to the desert and every now and then were paid a visit by a scorpion in the bathtub.
“
Why haven't you found a job yet, Tracy?” her mother inquired in a derisive tone as Tracy sat and watched TV. She hadn't eaten for days, but Chelsey hardly noticed or even cared, her daughter still rather large in frame and girth despite this. The food wasn't appealing to Tracy. She wanted that taste again, but fought it... ignored the craving.
“
I went out yesterday, Mom,” She said, not taking her eyes off of the screen. It was the pilot episode of Supernatural and she had been waiting for quite some time to watch it. Tracy, like many young single ladies at the time, loved the Winchester brothers naturally and was engrossed with both the plot and the main characters from the get go.
“
Get off your fat dead ass and clean this pigsty up!” Chelsey said with annoyance, gathering up sockets, undergarments, and clothing off the floor. Ever since Tracy had learned about her parents separation, what little self esteem she had took a nose dive. She no longer cared about her appearance, her living conditions, or anything, showering only when she could no longer stand her smell and picking her things up only when the piles got ridiculous.
She had only begun her wrestling career at this point and was making little, if any money at all wrestling at a local independent wrestling show under the name Triple Sin. As she often had a habit of freezing up in front of crowds, she was often used as a bump machine to put over other talent at the time. A jobber as some would say, which limited her profitability even further at the time.
“
You're twenty one years old! Most women are working for a living and maybe even starting a family at your age!”
Tracy's eyes lowered from the screen, “
Most women didn't eat someone's face....”
“
Yeah, unless they live in some place like Ethiopia or Some Island somewhere!” Her mother snapped back.
The massive girl ran her fingers through her hair and leaned forward. Tears ran down her face in an instant. Normally, Chelsey would have comforted young Tracy, but this wasn't the woman she knew before the Asylum. The former Mrs. Sindell ignored Tracy's wracking sobs and instead moved in front of the TV.
“
Tears don't pay the bills, Tracy! You need to stop feeling sorry for yourself, clean your nasty ass up, and GET A REAL JOB! Stop this useless weekend wrestling hobby of yours! I'm tired of supporting you and your lazy, fat, good for nothing ass! You cost me my life, my dignity, and you're a strain on my wallet!”
This only upset Tracy more as she shook and quivered, sobbing openly now.
“
You're useless! You could dig ditches for a living or work nights at Wal-Mart! Instead you're sitting here, making excuses and feeling sorry for yourself! Well this is LIFE, Tracy! I coddled you too much and look what it got me?! A face eating, useless cunt of a daughter who cost me my marriage, my health, and my mental well being!”
It was too much this time, too much for Tracy to bare. She had been emotionally tortured by her mother to the point of breaking and the hunger, the gnawing hunger ate at her gut. Tracy lept at Chelsey, shoving her up and over the old CRT television with a roar! The TV crunched and cracked with a sparking hiss as it's heavy frame hit the floor along with her mother.
“
No! NOOO!!! STOP TRACY! STOP!!!” Chelsey cried out as her daughter descended upon her, biting and clawing.
“I'M SORRY TRACY!!! SSSTTTTTOOOOOAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHH!!!!”
The ear splitting scream didn't even phase Tracy as she bit into her mother's flesh, rending and tearing at the meat and sinew. She had fallen into a trance, almost unaware that she was mauling her own mother to death. When it was all said and done, Tracy was on her knees, coated in blood from her face down, her night shirt and sweat pants ruined with blood. Her mother was no more, just a mutiliated mess on the rug.
They were far from anyone, no one heard the screams. No one came to help. Chelsey Michella Sindell now lay as a half eaten corpse at the bloody feet of her own daughter. Tracy looked at her hands and the results of what she done and a mixture of emotions flooded through her. There was a sense of pleasure and satisfaction even at having given in to that hunger. There was also the horror and guilt of what she had done. Then finally came the sorrow as memories of happier times with her mother before all of this ran through her brain. Tracy wanted to curl up and die, but death was too good for her. She started to contemplate all the ways to kill herself at that very moment...
Oddly enough the phone in the kitchen suddenly rang. Tracy ignored the first two rings before finally walking over to the noisy ringing device. With trembling, blood soaked fingers she gathered the reciever up and brought it to her ears, “
H-Hello?” Was all she could muster.
Her eyes widened as she heard a voice she hadn't heard in a year, “Hello to you too, Tracykins! It's me, Becky! I just got out of the Looney bin! So whatcha' doin'?”
“
I... I killed her...” Tracy said softly.
“
Ooooo... Naughty naughty, who is her?” Becky replied cheerfully.
“
MY MOTHER!!!!”
“
Oh... oooooohhh... Where are you? I got a shovel and a body bag ready to go!”
Tracy was silent for several seconds, unsure of how to reply.
“
I'm out in Sloan, Nevada....” She finally said, then gave Becky the address.
A few hours later, Becky arrived all dressed in black, and knocked at the door of Tracy's home. When the door was answered, Becky didn't even baulk at the blood stained Tracy and instead threw her arms around her with a happy laugh.
“
Oh I missed you so much Tracykins! It was soooooo boring at the Asylum without you there!”
Tracy merely stood there, unsure of what to do.
“
It's... good to see you too, Becky,” She finally said. The two entered the house together, shutting the door behind them. Becky casually walked up to the mutilated corpse of Chelsey and quirked her brow a bit, not even horrified in the slightest by the macarbe scene before her.
“
I'm sorry about your Mom, but we gotta' act fast. So far the only good thing about this is, you're out in the middle of nowhere and near the desert. We'll drive out there, find a nice spot, and bury the body. Then come back, clean the house up, and you'll have to stay here and pretend nothing happened. Give it a couple weeks and report her missing. When they ask you about what you know, just say that she was picked up by some guy for a date and... Oh wait!” Becky stopped in mid explanation, grabbing a piece of notebook paper and writing down a few details, “
Ok remember today's date and the time of nine pm. That's when she went on her 'date' as it were.”
Tracy arched her brow a bit, looking at the note, “...
but Becky, I killed her... I ate my mother to death!”
Becky sighed and shrugged her shoulders, “
So? I watched my Daddy burn to death and I'm sure you had your reasons. I know you Tracykins. She was probably a total bitch to you and deserved it, just like that stupid Cheerleader who you ate the face of. I hope that little cunt hung herself in a closet somewhere after seeing how ugly her face was after you got through with it.”
“
I'm a horrible monster, Becky... Normal people don't eat people when they get mad!” Tears started flowing down Tracy's blood caked face. She shuddered uncontrollably.
Becky put an arm around her neck and leaned up a bit, “
Sssshhhhh... ssssshhhh... it's ok. I'm here, Tracykins. You'll be ok. Just clean up and put on some clothes that you won't miss. I'll cut up the carpet around your Mom and roll her up in it. We'll do this together, ok?”
The homicidal ex-cheerleader gave Tracy an affectionate pat on the shoulder. “
Now get cleaned up, you'll feel better after a good, hot shower, ok? I got this.”
An hour later, Tracy did finally emerge from the shower somewhat refreshed and wearing some ratty old pants and a t-shirt she had lying around. She saw a neartly cut empty sqaure of carpet that revealed hardwood floor underneath it. Becky came back through the door and gathered up a packed duffle bag by the door. She tossed it at Tracy, who caught it with her hands.
“
What's this?” She asked.
“
Something nice to wear out. When we get done, we're gonna' get you an alibi. You were partying all night with a friend,” Becky replied, pointing two thumbs at herself.
“
But Becky, I just...”
“
I know, I know. Just live a little, alright? Now let's go bury Mommy in the desert and go have a night out, mmmkay?”
Tracy followed Becky out to a white, windowless panel van and the two left her abode in Sloan, heading out into the desert. Becky bobbed her head as Paint it Black by the Rolling Stones played on the radio. The song was oddly poigniant to Tracy and stuck in her head as they rolled down the highway.
It wasn't easy for Tracy at the time, but over the years, she and Becky would bury body after body. Sometimes they fed what was left to the gators in the swamps of Louisiana, Florida, and Missouri. Others would find unmarked graves as their homes, far removed from civilization and buried deep. Becky formed an attachment to the shovel they often used over the years.
After they were finished burying Tracy's mother, the two changed into their party clothes and drove out, only stopping at a burning barrel surrounded by homeless people to throw the bloodied remains of their previous attire into the trash. On their way to the party, Becky laid out a few ground rules.
“
Alright Tracykins, here's how we will do this,” She said as she drove, “One, you only eat bad people. You can bite whoever you want, but keep your hunger for those who nobody will miss. Rapists, murderers, pedophiles, people like that.”
Tracy arched her brow and looked at Becky, “...
but.”
“
But nothing, sister. I see what happens when you eat someone you care about. You fell apart. You want to satisfy that hunger? Do it with people who deserve to die.”
“
Like your Dad...?” Tracy said in a low voice.
There was a moment of silence before Becky broke into a wicked grin, “
Exactly.... People who deserve only the worst.”
Tracy slowly nodded her head, “
Alright Becky...”
Together the two went to a night club and danced their hearts out. More like Becky danced her heart out and Tracy merely stood there, staring at the people around them. For Tracy, being in public in front of crowds always made her ill at ease, but Becky at least made it a bareable experience. She did follow Becky's advice, letting everything fall into place neatly. To this day, Tracy's mother still resides buried deep under the sands of the Nevada desert undiscovered like many others.
The only downside was, Tracy had to live on her own as her father had disowned her and wanted nothing to do with her. As she didn't want to be responsible for eating another member of her family, that suited her just fine. She and Becky maintained their friendship over the phone and with sporadic meet ups as Tracy struggled through the early stages of a more full time wrestling career, paying dues upon dues the hard way in the ring.
It wouldn't be until Tracy came to the Pitt that the two would become the destructive force known as Mercy & Sin in the wrestling ring and the rest is mostly public record.
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CAMERA ON - AUGUST 29th _ Going French in Purity, LA
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=A reel of footage plays from Bad Moon Rising as Marie Laforêt's cover of Paint it Black plays, focusing on the highlights of Mercy & Sin. It opens with Tracy brutally battering Raike with stiff right hand shots. Plissken & Raike both then getting double back dropped by the larger, more powerful woman of the team. Becky and Tracy hitting the Swinging Death Rope on Mikael, a bit of bloody spittle spraying from his lips as Ms. Mercy's feet crash down on his chest with a double foot stomp finish. Next comes Wolfe having been sent flying through the air, hurled over the top ropes by Tracy Sin into the front row of fans and practically knocking many of them out of their chairs in the process. We cut right to Becky dodging and weaving strikes from Mikael while delivering hard kicks to his shins and his ribs while breaking it up with a sporadic slap to his face every now and then, enraging the the giant man as she laughs maniacally. One would almost accuse Becky of having a sixth sense as she side stepped one of his blows, opening him up to the Howler from Adam Wolfe that sent both men flying through the ropes to the floor below. Becky shrugs her shoulders and giggles a bit while flipping them both off.
Sadly she's thrown right over the top rope by the Mime Assassins and Strick is promptly rolled up in a double roll up pin. Outside the ring, both Tracy and Becky look on with a mixture of shock, horror, and pure, unadulterated rage. Becky and Tracy both slide into the ring looking to inflict pain and damage and the Mimes show the better part of Valor, wisely dropping and rolling out of the ring. Tracy roars and hurls obscenities at them as they quickly make a hasty escape with Cuppola cheering on his charges. The music dies down and the footage ends on a slow motion pan with a tearfully raging Tracy Sin scowling with absolute hate feuled murder in her eyes....-------------------------------------------
...Upon a fade to black, the scene transitions to Becky and Mercy standing before the PAW banner, but they are not dressed in their usual attire. Instead, they both wear black and white striped shirts and berets, Becky sporting a teasingly short black skirt and high heels while Tracy sports black shorts and combat boots. Between Becky's lips is a smoking cigarette with a long filter while Tracy holds in her hand a small French flag.
Becky is the first to speak, but with surprisingly flawless French no less, her words subtitled at the bottom of the screen. She peels the french smoke stick from her mouth and tosses it aside somewhere random.
“
Nous've a décidé de parler dans votre pays natal en français afin de mieux nous faire comprendre à vous, mime français assassins.”
We've decided to speak in your native french in order to make ourselves better understood to you, French Mime Assassins.With a withering scowl on her face, she continues, “
Vous avez volé notre victoire de nous, les garçons et les prix pour le crime commis contre nous par vous est au-delà de la compréhension.”
You stole your victory from us, boys and the price for the crime perpetrated against us by you is beyond comprehensionTracy growls the words from between clenched teeth, “
Savez-vous ce que nous faisons à putain de voleurs? NOUS ENTERRER DANS UN PROFOUND TROU PUTAIN!!!”
Do you know what we do to fucking thieves? WE BURY THEM IN A DEEP FUCKING HOLE!!!As we let sink in the shock of Tracy Sin speaking rough French herself, Becky dips forward to pick up something that makes a metal scraping sound across the floor. Standing back up, we find she has a shovel in her hand.
“
Comme Çi? Comme Ça? Je n'ai pas donner un baiser qui est qui. Ma seule préoccupation est de prendre les courroies du championnat de autour de votre taille et vous faire souffrir autant que possible dans le processus.”
Comme Çi? Comme Ça? I do not give a fuck who is who. My only concern is taking those championship belts from around your waists and making you suffer as much as humanly possible in the process.“
Vous've prouvé à tout le monde combien sournoises et sournoise vous êtes. Vous avez le droit d'être fiers de cette victoire, mais que c'était un résultat de l'environnement vous vous trouviez en. N'importe qui aurait pu gagner ce match. Vous venez de la chance d'être au bon endroit au bon moment. Aucun refus, mais maintenant vous vous tenez à la pire place et très probablement, au pire moment, car et moi sommes prêts Tracykins pour vous avez peint baise. Nous savons ce que's prochains, nous savons comment vous're va jouer à nous, et nous savons exactement comment nous're peut battre les adorables baiser out de votre fils de putes assassin!"
You've proven to everyone just how sneaky and underhanded you are. You have every right to be proud of that win, but that was all a result of the environment you found yourselves in. Anybody could have won that match. You were just lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time. No denials, but now you stand in the worst place and quite possibly, at the worst time, because Tracykins and I are ready for you painted fucks. We know what's coming, we know how you're going to play us, and we know exactly how we're going to beat the ever loving fuck out of you Assassin sons of bitches!Tracy then pulls out a small lighter and holds it up to the small French flag. With a flick of her thumb, she lights the flag on fire and waves the burning French effigy back and forth, sending small embers fluttering about her.
“
BRULE EN ENFER, MIME FRANCAIS ASSASSINS!”
BURN IN HELL, FRENCH MIME ASSASSINS!She tosses the flag down and steps up in front of the camera. Ripping the beret off her head, Tracy grips it in both hands and violently rips it apart. She slings both halves of it at either side of herself, her teeth grit with rage. Becky shoots an evil grin at the camera as Tracy continues on.
“
I'm done speaking French for the sake of our two would-be murder victims on the first edition of PAW's Addiction. We fought harder than anyone in that entire match. We threw everything we had and to come up empty fucking handed.... IT DRIVES ME UP THE FUCKING WWWWAAAAAALLLL!!!! It's humiliating... INFURIATING TO LOSE TO A COUPLE OF... of... OF FUCKING MIMES!!!!”
Tracy paces back and forth in front of the camera, quivering with rage and fury.
“
WE DESERVE THOSE TITLES, MIMES! THEY BELONG TO US, NOT YOU!!!! We will beat you and beat you AND BBBBBEEEEEEAAAATTTTT YYYYYOOOOUUU UNTIL BLOOD DRIPS FROM YOUR PORES AND LEAKS FROM YOUR TEAR DUCTS!!! 'TIL YOUR FACEPAINT RUNS IN PINK STREAKS DOWN YOUR MISERABLE CHESTS!!! WE WILL VIOLATE YOUR SOULS AND BATHE IN YOUR BLOOD, SCREAMS, AND TEARS!!!!”
Becky nods, adding, “
Messieurs, Tracy et je vais peindre votre monde noir charbon... sombre comme nuit.”
Gentlemen, Tracy and I will be painting your world black as coal... dark as night.“
We get off on the misery we inflict on others, Mimes. It's just that plain and simple. You hurt us and now, we will hurt you a million fold because why simply get even? Why stop at just beating you boys and Cuppola to a pulp? No... We want others to think before they so eagerly rush into the spider's web and to do that, we need victims. To qoute a song I heard a couple times, Here comes the pain, you're no different from the rest. Victim is your name in my vicious wasteland. Here comes the pain, your destruction manifests. Lying there broken looking up as WE still stand, and stand over you we shall be as the newly crowned PAW Tag Team Champions. Are you prepared for your new roles in life, Comme Ci and Comme Ca?”
Becky didn't sport the wicked grin but instead a focused, determined look in her eye as she placed her hands on her hips.
“
Oh and Cuppola, you won't be spared. You will suffer right along with your precious clown wanna' be's. Afterall, like Tracykins said previously; without you the Mime Assassins would not exist. Not to mention all that drivel you spew on Twitter is so annoying that we would be doing the world a huge favor by taking you out.”
She crosses her arms over her chest and tilts her head slightly, a smirk creasing her lips.
“
But there is an important question,” Becky asked in all seriousness, “
Why so fickle, Cups? We didn't go into this little shoot ignorant of what's going on with you and the Mimes. You want us to work with you? This coming from a guy who thought we were useless trash and didn't deserve to breath the same air as your boys? What gives? I don't understand this at all.”
Tracy cracks her neck left to right, “
Do you think that suddenly denying allegiance with them will save you from what's coming or is it a ruse to help your team get over? Your kind has always made... me... SICK! SICK TO MY FUCKING STOMACH!!! I can't stand fair weather friends. You pledged yourself to the face painted Assassins that were at your beck and call and now you're doing the same to us? You're no different than an airheaded bitch in highschool. We're your friends until something better rolls along. FFFFUUUUUCCCCKKKKK YYYYOOOOUUUU CUPPOLA!!!”
“
There's a special place in hell for people like you, Cups,” Becky added, “...
and it'll be our pleasure to send you there old man. I find myself sadly sympathesizing with your charges, for we've been in their shoes time and time again. Used and cast aside like a pair of cheap penny loufers who outlived our usefulness. If it were not for the reasons listed above, boys, I'd gladly help you snuff Francis Cuppola like the old, wrinkled bitch that he is, but sadly, you have to go down with him and his ship because in just a couple days at the good old Purity Arena at the heart of Pure Amusement Wrestling, your reign and your careers will be washed away just like you wash that paint from your face every night before giving each other a kiss goodnight.”
Becky strolls up to the camera, getting up close, personal, and intimate for a moment.
“
But know this, I hate you both with a passion and not because of your preferences. Love is a beautiful and wonderful thing, no matter where you find it. I hate you both because you stand in my way and because of who you are linked to. Hating you because your Mimes, I'll admit was a childish thing me and Tracykins threw out there, but whatever it takes to pump us up for the fight right?”
She pauses, the light glittering in her dark brown eyes as she smiles brightly.
“
No... We hate you because we were better than you that night at Bad Moon Rising and yet you still won. We want to see you hurt because you stole from us what was ours by right. We want to see you broken and crying because you do not deserve what you have. We bared our black hearts to the world and promised to take those titles and make them ours and you made me and Tracykins break our promise. We've never.... EVER... broken our word, not one time in our lives. Comme Ci and Comme Ca, I weep for you on the inside, but I'm going to be laughing on the outside when my boot caves in your faces one at a time.... See you at the Park, boys.”
Becky plants a kiss on the camera, her lip print smudging the lens up greatly. It wasn't bad enough to block out the view just seconds later as Tracy hops forward and thrusts her boot right into the camera with a violent impact. The feed cuts to static and then to black.
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OFF CAMERA – Becky's Diary
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Dear Diary,
It's rare when I feel even a hint of pity, but watching how Francis Cuppola treated the Mimes, made me think of all the times that Tracy and I were used by others. I spoke of it on our latest shoot, but it's far more painful to think about how often others have used and discarded us like a pair of nothings. They always think we're so stupid and worthless. They think we are too uncultured and just beasts of burden to do as they command. Just once, I'd like for someone to look at me and Tracykins as equals and not as disposable fodder and hench bitches. I'd like to be valued for something other than my body, smoking hot as it is.
I've had to use sex as a weapon more than once in my life. It's sad when the only lesson my father ever taught me was that a vagina can be as potent as a loaded gun when used just right. I mean it's the reason he let me tie him up and burn him alive afterall. Daddy was always into kinky little games like that. Cups reminds me alot of my Dad in appearance. Fat, balding, bearded, and fuck all ugly as Satan's flaming hemorroids. Maybe that's why I want to beat him into a pulp so badly.
I wasn't Daddy's only victim. I was just his favorite and most easily accessed. He'd make me watch sometimes as he raped and then murdered other girls from anywhere he could find them. It just made it all that much easier when I finally mustered the courage to free myself and kill him. Sure, I had to build his confidence in me, let him do things to me and think that I was a broken, good little slave, but in the end, it was getting too comfortable with a little cobra that killed him.
This is exactly what will kill Francis Cuppola. Maybe I'll try to have Tracy hold back just enough so that the Mimes can at least get a little satisfaction on devouring their Master themselves. Afterall, it's the least we can do considering what Cups has done. I'll talk more with Tracykins in the morning about it. For now, I will do as the good book says and Go the Fuck to Sleep.