| Well...last week didn't go exactly as planned for Trishelle Jameson. After battling Kaylee Adams in the main event, she made a mistake, and came up short. Now was not the time to dwell on the past. She had quite the task ahead of her. Phoenix and Paris Jior had been put into a match against her this week on Fight Night. And a Hardcore match, at that. These girls had no idea what was about to happen...
Enter scene...Tupelo, Mississippi. Not exactly one of the biggest cities in the world, but big enough for WGEF to take notice, and host a televised event there. Fight Night was going to be at the Bancorp South Arena later in the evening, so of course, Trishelle Jameson was already in town, walking around. She had a lot to think about, and a lot to talk about at the same time. Her Malcolm X shirt flapped in the humid wind of downtown. Looking around, she started speaking her mind about everything going on to no one in particular.
"The Pride of the 305" Trishelle Jameson:
Ok, plain and simple, last week sucked. I got made to look like a fool in front of everyone in Burlington, Vermont, and on national television. Not the best way to make a debut, if you ask me, but hey. At least I was in the main event, right? Not too many people can claim that. Not even the two people I get a chance to get some retribution on. Paris something or other and Phoenix. Where do I start with her? First off, who else besides the Rock can talk in the third person and make it work? Not this Phoenix chick, I know that. She's articulate, that's a given, but she runs around saying how I'm some sort of joke around here? Give me a break, Phoenix. It's egotistical bitches like you that cause a place like this to fail. Although, you little quip about me supposedly 'writing a check my ass can't cash' was decent, if not overused...you see, you only saw a portion of what I can do inside the ring last week. This week, I get to show a more sadistic side of my persona. A side that doesn't care what happens to her, so long as there is pain inflicted on someone else. A side of me that will use literally anything and everything I can get my hands on to do damage to whomever is in the ring with me. Phoenix, keep talking and running your mouth about me and my...well, less than successful debut. You're only making me famous.
As she continued walking along, she noticed a Starbucks shop. The camera followed her in as she ordered a Macciato. Taking a sip, she walked back out of the shop, and resumed her walk down the street.
"The Pride of the 305" Trishelle Jameson:
How can you stand there and talk about how I look when you look like some tatted-up irish barbie doll, Phoenix? And you say I spend time in the makeup chair? How about this; Lose the temporary tattoos and the 'holier than thou' attitude. That's my deal. This hardcore match is going to be the beginning of the end of your little flash in the pan time here in WGEF. You see, girlie, I've been wrestling for almost ten years. Granted, it wasn't in any big-time promotion, but the fact remains that I have more in-ring experience than both you and Paris combined, because let's look at the facts here. Two bimbos who look like they just walked out of Hugh Hefner's bedroom don't really have much of a chance in the big kid's world. Speaking of bimbos who couldn't really wrestle her way out of a paper bag, let's turn to Paris whatshername.
"The Pride of the 305" Trishelle Jameson:
So, in the case of Paris...wait, she hasn't even bothered to show her face yet. Silly bitch, wrestling is for big kids. My guess is that she is too scared of the possibility of her "oh-so-pretty" face getting messed up in a real match. This hardcore match is going to be fun as far as I'm concerned. Two stupid bitches who are nothing more than eye-candy in the wrestling world for over-hormonal teenage boys. I don't cater to them. That's why I dress and act the way I do. I'm not here to impress anyone with my fashion sense or the fact that I try to over-inflate my boobs like ninety percent of the women in the back. I am here to show people how females are supposed to wrestle, plain and simple. I'm going to get respect one way or the other. Whether I earn it from people watching me, or if I have to beat it into them myself. That is why i refer to myself as "The Greatest Chick You Never Heard Of". You may not know me, but you will remember my name after you've been in the ring with me. I don't go down lightly, and when I do beat you, you will have no one to blame but yourself. And me, of course, for laying the hurt down on your fragile little bodies. This bitch is ready to brawl and ready to bleed. Are you?
Trishelle looks at the camera in front of her with a sadistic smirk as she takes a small razorblade out of her pocket, and drags it along the side of her eyebrow, causing a slit of blood to start pouring down her cheek. It was clear to anyone watching that her match against Kaylee Adams woke up something inside of her. She continued walking for a moment as she reached up, feeling the blood run down her cheek. She smirked and wiped it across
her face, mixing and smearing the blood with the blush and eye shadow on her face.
"The Pride of the 305" Trishelle Jameson:
Welcome to your own personal hell, girls. I'll be the one guiding you two the eighth plane of hell this evening.
She knocked the camera out of the man's hands, and sending the cameraman back on his ass. The camera was still on as it watched Trishelle Jameson walk off, ending the scene. |
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