An Ego on the Loose

[Envy]

The throng of spectators gyrates and cheers in anticipation for the next match in the Decimation lineup. Signs proclaiming the greatness of fan favorites dance atop the sea of bodies like sail boats and the overall mood of the arena is one of bubbling excitement. Suddenly the enthusiasm of the crowd is snuffed out like the flame of a candle as a familiar tune begins trickling through the speakers.

“I watched you change…. Into a fly…”

“I turned away, you were on fire.”

Spindly digits like a spider’s legs crawl out from behind the curtains of the entrance ramp, hooking into the crimson fabric and tearing it asunder. The Covetous Cunt saunters out of it open mouth, an inky black smile painted across her features, and her hands held up in the air. The Decimator title dangles from her right shoulder and her emerald tresses are pulled behind her head in a messy bun. Vertical stripes hug her curves in a form fitting mini-dress, accentuating her long legs, and complimenting her voluptuous figure. The sinful siren brings her hand up to her mouth and blows a derisive kiss out to the audience. Finally, the onlookers shake themselves of their stupor and break into abhorrent wails, hurling rubbish into the devious diva’s path. However, Envy seems unfazed by their behavior, twirling as if she were a young girl playing in the rain and making her way down the ramp.

JP: “It seems winning the title hasn’t awarded Envy any favor with the fans.”

Ray: “OHMIGOD! I love her outfit, so Noir, but the belt totally clashes!”

Something unexpectedly draws her gaze, The New Zealand Terror stopping in her tracks, and tilting her head quizzically as she inspects the object of her attention. A portly man somewhere around fifty years of age, with a receding hairline and a severe case of rosacea, points suggestively toward his chest. The slob realizes he has the focus of The Covetous Cunt, a miasmic grin of rotting teeth spreading from ear to ear, and he begins pointing more emphatically toward his midsection. Envy giggles like a Japanese school girl with her hand over her mouth and she gives the pervert a suggestive wink. The devious dame closes the space between them in the blink of an eye and emerald colored orbs scan the cotton t-shirt stretched over the elderly man’s bread basket, a twitchy grin pulls at the corner of The Queen of Mean’s mouth. Upon the cloth covering the belly of the beast stood the image of a topless Envy in all her glory with an unoriginal sexual quote beneath, “did you make this?”

Her slender pointer finger traces the image upon the blouse and her eyes dart back up to inspect the little piggy’s visage, “hmmm?”

The fat oaf replies with a proud sneer, “yes I did.”

Mrs. Renfield chortles, her peepers smiling wickedly as she watches a shiver of relief pass through the his limbs. The succubus hooks her talons in the front of his shirt and pulls the sweaty meatbag in close, “how very…” her black licorice lips were only a breath away, “sweet!”

The man roars when suddenly the tender lips he had been expecting where substituted with a pair of merciless knuckles. Her claws remain lodged in his top, refusing to release the fan as she bloodies the insensitive fools nose and blackens his eye.

“Please! S-Stop!”

Her fist stops mid-air and her expression lightens again, “take it off.”

“W-what…”

Envy grabs the bottom of the t-shirt and tears the clothing from his midsection in one fluid motion. The portly fellow immediately goes to cover his exposed body, eliciting a cold chuckle from the Kiwi. The Covetous Cunt peers at the male’s physique and her smile widens, “nice tits.”

Satisfied, The Covetous Cunt continues down the ramp with the t-shirt clutched in her fist, lingering at the cusp of the squared circle momentarily, and then hoisting herself onto the edge of the ring with her free hand. She slides one leg after another through the middle rope and then trounces into the ring.  Aryana narrows in on Lizzie Morna, plucking the microphone from her hand, and giving her firm smack on the rear, “Hello fuckwits of EVPW! What’s this!?! No love for the Decimator? No cheers for your Champion?”

She gazes about the arena, eyeing the hissing spectators with contempt, “what a piss awful crowd, ass over tits for a group of bum bandits that can barely handle wiping their arses. Your ‘fan favorites’ don’t stand an ice cube’s chance in hell against The New Zealand Terror. I’ve destroyed all of the superstars set before me; Bella Morte, Wolverina, Chris Pyro and Ethan Hawke…. I have proven myself indestructible and these fucking pussies have fallen to their knees before me! And what have a got to show for it? BUGGER ALL! Shit pay, shit digs and shit fans!”

“Well then… PISS OFF! I will wear your precious wrestler’s guts for garters! Perhaps once I’ve decimated them all, you shitheads will learn how to cheer for the real talent! I'll leave this federation in ruin.”



TBCB That crazy stabby dude.... You know who you are.

[Rhaps]

Envy stands in the ring, basking in the hate and malice being directed at her from every corner of the building. She shuts her eyes momentarily, seemingly thriving off the negative reaction that her presence elicits. Despite the vocal opposition she is receiving the Kiwi flashes a wide grin. Other than that she exhibits no other emotional reaction, no indication that she cares one iota about the opinions of the EVPW fan base and she mockingly laughs in each and every one of their faces. The Covetous Cunt lowers the microphone, almost as if she expects that nobody on the roster has the guts to face her and be destroyed by her overwhelming power and might. A few more seconds drag by before every single light in the arena is switched off. The fans can be heard in the darkness and Envy merely waits in the squared circle, sighing at such a woefully obvious tactic. A voice resounds from the PA system, echoing around the shrouded structure.

The history of these days will be written in blood.

The voice booms around the building before the lights are thrown back on. At Envy’s feet a member of the audience is curled up in a foetal position holding their chest. Several stab marks are visible. They are shallow but the letter R is visible in the unfortunate individual’s torso. He cowers away from the New Zealand Terror, not taking any chances that she would provide him with similar treatment. The Kiwi Krusher turns and sees the figure of Rhaps looming to one side of the ring, his eyes fixated on the only person of interest to him in the entire world at this moment. The Canterbury Carver is wearing three-quarter length black trousers and a plain t-shirt with a knife across it. The blade is drenched with blood.

The Beast Unleashed slides under the bottom rope and takes a few steps towards the Decimator Champion. They look at one another, the only noise being heard is the small drips of blood spattering on the ring mat. Abruptly, the Englishman stabs the knife into the canvas a mere inch from the fan’s face before kicking him in the head, a silent command for him to leave while he has the chance. The poor soul rolls over to the edge of the ring and slides himself to the ground. Mutely, a stage hand throws a microphone to Rhaps who catches it deftly in one hand.

Rhaps: That miserable speck of humanity that was just carved up was just a cheap display. You may be wondering what the point of that was and it is this Envy. You and Rhapsy both find these people insignificant and we both love to dominate and commit carnal destruction upon our enemies. But that is where our differences end. You seem to want their attention, despite it being negative. Rhaps doesn’t care about what happens to them. Rhaps uses them to show them a world where nothing is held back from them. Most whimper and cower like that one and some are reborn from the fire, intent on using this new outlook on life to realise nothing can stand in their way and achieve great things.

On cue the same crew member approaches the ring and proffers the King of the Deathmatch Championship title to the Canterbury Carver. The maniac superstar takes it and drapes it across his shoulder before standing across from his counterpart. The light glints off dully off the two title-belts and Rhaps nods, a wan smile across his face.

Rhaps: Now, Rhapsy will get to the point.

Envy: Please do. You’re boring me.

Rhaps: The audience heard your words about how you destroyed everyone placed in your path and every fan favourite could not stand against you. That was mere baiting. That was just a weak display of contempt, showing Rhapsy your true weakness. You are too fixated on everything paying attention to you, getting people to hate you. Rhapsy just does things because he can. With that in mind, you dare to claim that you are indestructible. You cannot fathom what true torture is.

Rhaps removes his shirt and lets it drop to the canvas. There are a myriad of scars criss-crossing his body and there doesn’t appear to be any part of him that isn’t covered with a mark of any kind. The Safety Ranger once again places the title on his shoulder and he advances on the Covetous Cunt.

Rhaps: Chris Pyro, Ethan Hawke. These are valiant victories true, both know what they are doing but one such as you has never faced a true test. One such as you has never gazed into the pits of hell, had your body tortured and punished and pushed to breaking point. Rhapsy has and last week everyone saw the four most violent men try to kill each other all for this championship. And the Slice-O-Matic 9000 didn’t lose for one reason and one reason only. He is true chaos and destruction. You are merely a child trying to play at war. I have fought and bested true ring warriors like Vladimir Strife, Jaggeroth and Desperado while you cling to the false notion that you have earned bragging rights and have seen every depravity and tactic that could ever be utilised. You are wrong.

Rhaps pauses in his diatribe for one moment while Envy continues to look bored. The Englishman smiles once more, knowing what to say next to get her back up.

Rhaps: Even the way you dress gives away your weakness. You dress provocatively because you want people to notice you. You yearn for it. That is not power or control, that is doing things to make sure all eyes are on you so you can revel in it. That’s merely a cry for attention. That’s what a runaway teenager does. Are you no more intelligent than a petulant child?

Envy’s face creases with anger and she frowns at the Aerial Annihilator. Rhaps continues, clearly having a great deal to say for himself tonight. The Englishman waits for a few seconds before he steps even closer, his face mere inches from the fiery diva standing before him. He can feel her breath on his nape and he smiles condescendingly at her.

Rhaps: Rhaps wants to induct you into his world and show you the perfection of chaos. Rhaps thinks it will be a good idea if you and the Canterbury Carver have a match and you can earn your bragging rights and maybe learn something about yourself. Perhaps you can get over this dim-witted calling you have and reach a high level of understanding, the true calling of laying waste to everyone around you simply because it can and it must be done. Rhapsy is violence personified to the extent that generations yet unborn cry out in anguish at his passing. You will be given a trial of fire and you shall be tested.

Rhaps lowers the microphone and steps away from the Kiwi Krusher. He adjusts the title belt on his shoulder and awaits her reponse.

TBC

[Envy]

Envy chuckles lightly as her head bobs from side to side, “Firstly, my clothing has nothing to do with my desire for attention, though I am by no means denying my hunger for admiration… Admiration that I am more than worthy of. I wear these clothes because I look damn good in them.”

She begins circling the Rhapstastic one, “And if I’m the weak one, with my desperate need for validation, why are you here? If I am so much like the mindless masses… feeble and stupid… Then why does the crazy cutter come out of the shadows in all of his stabby glory to challenge this lowly Kiwi?”

She raises an eyebrow and leans in close to the Slice-O-Matic 9000 as if awaiting a response, but when he opens his mouth she stops him, “was it not a desperate cry for my regard to enter this arena tonight? Oh I’m trembling in my heels; Envy’s scared of the dark AND OH! That poor innocent man, HOW COULD YOU!?!” She feigns fainting, placing the back of her hand against her head and tilting backwards.

Ms. Renfield jerks upright again and lunges forward so that their noses are almost touching, “HAH! You’re no threat to me! If anything I pity you and your sad little gimmick. You come down here and insult me in a piss awful attempt at riling me up and talking me into a match with you. You’re not worth my time. A dribbling fool like you wouldn’t last a minute in the ring with me. It would be an utter waste of what little time and energy it would take to defeat you. You’re too blinded by your thirst for blood and fight like a wild animal, without forethought, and a person of my skill and intelligence would easily defeat you.”

The New Zealand Terror places her hand on the male wrestlers shoulder patronizingly, “Oh and… I have no desire to be anything like you Rhaps; a psycho with an affinity for sharp objects and not even a shred of humanity left within. Where I come from a person of your mental state would be committed…. But then… you’re not really crazy or rabid at all, are you Rhapsy?... No, it’s all an act! And guess what big guy; you don’t fucking scare me! When I defeat the entire roster, and I will, I want that victory to be mine alone. I am nobody's bitch and I do what I fucking want. I will not serve as anybody's peon. Vladimir Strife, Jaggeroth and Big Jim… THEY’RE NOBODY TO ME! And soon enough they too will serve as stepping stones on MY path to glory. So take your empty threats and shove ‘em up your arse!”



TBCB Rhaps

[Rhaps]

Rhaps stares at his current adversary, the smile not leaving his face the entire time during Envy’s rant. She looks at him disdainfully, clearly exhibiting the fact that she considers the person before her to be no more than a nuisance to be ignored. The Englishman turns his back on the Covetous Cunt, her words reverberating inside the hollows of his warped mind and something seems to strike true and he nods begrudgingly in agreement. The diva sneers as she notices this.

Rhaps: You know, you are right about one thing Envy. Rhaps isn’t as mad as people from the outside think. There is measure and control behind the chaos and that is the mark of the Beast Unleashed. You are free to say no to a match but know this, little one. You now have the sole attention of this sad little gimmick. I will tear down the walls of your psyche and burn demonic light into that pathetic existence you live. I don’t have to prove or coerce you into fighting the Safety Ranger. I will merely tear and rip everything out of your life, one brick at a time.

Rhaps’ smile grows wider before he lowers the microphone. The Canterbury Carver retreats away from Envy and he makes a show of withdrawing his knife and cleaning his nails while attempting to look nonchalant. Envy looks nonplussed at the display she is witnessing before her but the Englishman continues to ignore her presence. This seems to suit the diva as she turns and makes a move to exit the squared circle. As she reaches the ropes she hears Rhaps’ voice echoing behind her.


Rhaps: The Safety Ranger will say this though. Since you say you don’t care about how people look at you despite wearing that garishness then perhaps you would like an accessory. Perhaps it would clash with your shoes but Rhapsy can’t really say he knows much about the stupid little world’s that people such as yourself operate in; that self-delusion that you seem to thrive in. In what world could you ever beat Rhaps.

Rhaps discards the microphone and an audible thud is heard as it bounces off the ring mat. The Kiwi Krusher turns to see the figure of Rhaps advancing towards her, his dreaded knife held aloft. The blade bites down into her outstretched hand, drawing a thin trickle of blood. Before he can inflict more than this slight amount of damage, the New Zealand Terror backs away from him, her eyes now suddenly aflame with wild fire and malice at the one who would dare to attempt to mark her so. The Canterbury Carver shrugs before laughing quietly to himself. He raises the knife once more and does a few experimental slashes in the air in front of Envy, signalling that he is not finished.

TBC

[Envy]

The Stab happy Englishman releases a warrior's cry that would cause the stoutest lumberjack to shit his pants, but Envy merely smiles and her muscles tense as they prepare to dodge Rhaps’ attack. He comes stampeding toward her, aptly swinging his blade and eyes aflame with a voracious need to spill blood. Just as it seems his blow will hit his mark and the hungry weapon will be fed, The New Zealand Terror pivots out of the line of fire, grabs a handful of The Slice’o’matic 9000’s hair and uses his momentum to slam him face first into the canvas. She then slams her boot on the back of his skull, cackling derisively, “see, I knew you’d do something fucking stupid like that. You’re too rash Rhapsy boy and I am too damn smart for you.”

She takes the opportunity to get the hell out of dodge before the psycho decides to play doctor with her face, sliding out of the ring and watching his motionless form splayed out on the canvas. Finally, she turns her back and dashes up the ramp.
The devious diva grips the red curtain of the entrance and her tonsils nearly jump out of her throat when a knife comes out of no where and pins the fabric to the wall, “I’m not finished with you yet.”

Envy slowly turns around, gazes at the huffing brute standing in the middle of the ring and gives him a smirk, “we never even started Rhaps, there’s nothing to finish. Get over it fuckwit.”

She then disappears through the doorway, leaving the steaming maniac’s ego and body bruised.

EOT