�?nbsp;re: |Just Walking Backstage| �?/FONT>

THEE EMPRESS RETURNS! PICTURE GOES RIGHT UP IN HURRE! Wow, her first night in her brand-spankin'-new company and already, Mackenzie found her new best friend. And we use that term in a dramatically sarcastic way. If there was one thing that anyone has ever learned from Mackenzie Noel Adams, in all her three and a half years of performing in this business; it's that she trusts no one and likes even less.  Starring at the blonde in front of her, Mackenzie uses her index finger, freshly manicured with French Tips, might we add, to wipe away some of the access coffee that might've jumped on to her perfect, blemish free face. Using that same finger to move a single strand of her goregous, dark black -- almost burgundy locks out of her face, she merely smiled in a most sarcastic way. The look of sheer anger on this blondes -- Kaylee Adams -- face, seemed to tickle her some. Chuckling under her breath, Mackenzie merely shock her head, before clearing her throat. "What are you, the hall monitor?" she asked, sarcastically, as Kaylee's anger seemed to grow more intense by the second. "Excuse me?! Do you have any idea who I am?!" Kaylee asked, in an extremely confident manner. "No. Wait, wait, let me guess. You're one of Santa's Little Whore's right? No, wait...I think even they wouldn't be caught dead in that outfit. Hmm...well, you can't be a fat cow. Okay so, maybe you could be, but that's neither here nor there. Okay fine! I give up. Who are you?!" Mackenzie asked, with a smile on her face. "Only the savior of this company, of this companies Women's Division which seems to lack talent and skill while continuously hiring tramps like you!" Mackenzie's eyes widened by that comment. The girl hadn't known her but a hot second, how could she easily sum her up as a whore? Which one of these two ladies was decked out in gear from Hookers-R-Us. Certainly not Mackenzie. Those stores weren't anywhere on Rodaeo Drive, and if they weren't in the "Fashion Disctricts" as she referred to them, then they were of no use to her. "Right. So says the Vivian Ward wannabe." Mackenzie said, with a smile. "I honestly think the best part of that entire outfit, is the coffee stain that's splattered all over it. Where'd you get it from, anyway? Hags, Inc. I actually think my grandma has that same get up only...she fills it out much better...and she's pushing sixty six. God, I puke cuter then that outfit you've attempted to throw together." She continued. The look on Kaylee's face was pure shock. In all her years in competition, she'd come across many that would 'try' to insult her, most would cower to her. But not Mackenzie. She'd never cower to anyone, let alone some blonde bimbo, straight to video version of Pam Anderson like the one standing before her. "You've obviously never heard of me. And because you're an idiot, I'll let it slide...this time. You're just lucky I have bigger fish to fry, sweetie. The likes of Lucky Monaco-Cage and this Dakota Retard person...for the UPW Women's Championship. But next time, you won't be so lucky." Kaylee commented, as she starred at Mackenzie. Neither of them seemed to want to back down, both of them being well known for their uber bitchiness. "Oh, right...bigger fish. I got'cha. Sweetheart, if I wanted to break you, I could very easily. And I'd take your spot in that Championship match. I've done it before to many other lame bitches like you, and I'll be more then happy to do it again. I've retired skanks that looked, smelt and acted like you, so this whole shirade of you being some "savior" and "top bitch", it's not going to work with me the way it would with some of these other punks around here. You're looking at a bonafide Wrestling Empress. I've seen your lame excuse for matches and I must say, Hannah Brooks was a better wrestler then you...and I retired her ass more then two years ago...and many just like her. You're pretincious, Blair Waldorf wannabe persona is tired, run-down and, much like you, useless. If you're some sort of "savior" to the Women's Division, tell me sweetheart...why would Randy Orton hunt me down, sign me, in hopes of bringing this company back to the standing it was once at. Could it be because your lackluster skill just isn't cutting it. The only reason you'll walk out of Legacy of Pain the champion, is because someone the likes of me, isn't in the match. But you can rest assured, whoever walks out with the golden ticket -- the championship belt -- will get the pointy end of my Prada shoe up their hairy, pimply, cottage cheese smelling ass. So please, go ahead and focus on the Women's Championship match, who the hell am I to stop you. But when it all comes down to it, that belt -- and this division -- won't see honor and prestige until someone like me wears it." Mackenzie said, getting in Kaylee's face. And, just for the blind, deaf and stupid -- just because their last names both happen to be Adams, does not make them in any way, shape or form...related. Mackenzie wouldn't ruin her prestigious reputation of being a glamour girl by being related to someone as rundown and scrappy looking, as 'thee' Kaylee Adams. Kaylee opens her mouth, as if she were going to say something, but before she could even utter a single word, Mackenzie quickly cut her off. "Yeah, I know...I'm a bitch. That's actually Miss. Bitch, if you please and I do enjoy the title. At least, when I act like a frigid bitch, I don't look all constipated and bloated. Try a midol love, it definitely does wonders for the....ya know...bloated feeling." Mackenzie said, as she puffed out her cheeks and stretched her arms at her waist, as if to mimic Kaylee, as if to imply that she was fat. "Good luck with that title match, sweetheart. Knowing the amout of talent you three posess...all of you are gonna need it!" Mackenzie said, as she laughed to herself, and walked around Kaylee. She continued her destination down the hallway. It would appear as though Kaylee's not wasn't going, completely, her way. First, her match request was granted but, with an added stipulation. A third person that, hadn't been much of a factor with the company until here recently -- Dakota Huntress. Kaylee's preference was a strict one-on-one match with Lucky for the title, what she got was a triple threat. If Mackenzie had it her way, it'd be a fatal fourway -- but that's neither here nor there. And now, it would seem, as if her 'beautiful' shirt was ruined by spilled coffee, and the newest female face on the UPW roster just out-bitched the self-proclaimed Savior of the UPW Women's Division. Could Kaylee's night get any worse? Do we even want to know the answer to that question. As Mackenzie turned the corner, heading down the hallway to her own destination, Kaylee was left in the hallway, with a coffee-stained shirt and an empty cup of brew in her hand. As she attempted to regain her composure, she tossed her cup into the nearest trash can and went back into the catering area for a second cup...this time, complete with a spill-proof lid! TO BE CONTINUED BY: ANYONE.

�?nbsp;re: |Just Walking Backstage| �?/FONT>

THEE EMPRESS RETURNS! PICTURE GOES RIGHT UP IN HURRE! Wow, her first night in her brand-spankin'-new company and already, Mackenzie found her new best friend. And we use that term in a dramatically sarcastic way. If there was one thing that anyone has ever learned from Mackenzie Noel Adams, in all her three and a half years of performing in this business; it's that she trusts no one and likes even less.  Starring at the blonde in front of her, Mackenzie uses her index finger, freshly manicured with French Tips, might we add, to wipe away some of the access coffee that might've jumped on to her perfect, blemish free face. Using that same finger to move a single strand of her gorgeous, dark black -- almost burgundy locks out of her face, she merely smiled in a most sarcastic way. The look of sheer anger on this blondes -- Kaylee Adams -- face, seemed to tickle her some. Chuckling under her breath, Mackenzie merely shock her head, before clearing her throat. "What are you, the hall monitor?" she asked, sarcastically, as Kaylee's anger seemed to grow more intense by the second. "Excuse me?! Do you have any idea who I am?!" Kaylee asked, in an extremely confident manner. "No. Wait, wait, let me guess. You're one of Santa's Little Whore's right? No, wait...I think even they wouldn't be caught dead in that outfit. Hmm...well, you can't be a fat cow. Okay so, maybe you could be, but that's neither here nor there. Okay fine! I give up. Who are you?!" Mackenzie asked, with a smile on her face. "Only the savior of this company, of this companies Women's Division which seems to lack talent and skill while continuously hiring tramps like you!" Mackenzie's eyes widened by that comment. The girl hadn't known her but a hot second, how could she easily sum her up as a whore? Which one of these two ladies was decked out in gear from Hookers-R-Us. Certainly not Mackenzie. Those stores weren't anywhere on Rodaeo Drive, and if they weren't in the "Fashion Disctrict" as she referred to them, then they were of no use to her. "Right. So says the Vivian Ward wannabe." Mackenzie said, with a smile. "I honestly think the best part of that entire outfit, is the coffee stain that's splattered all over it. Where'd you get it from, anyway? Hags, Inc. I actually think my grandma has that same get up only...she fills it out much better...and she's pushing sixty six. God, I puke cuter then that outfit you've attempted to throw together." She continued. The look on Kaylee's face was pure shock. In all her years in competition, she'd come across many that would 'try' to insult her, most would cower to her. But not Mackenzie. She'd never cower to anyone, let alone some blonde bimbo, straight to video version of Pam Anderson like the one standing before her. "You've obviously never heard of me. And because you're an idiot, I'll let it slide...this time. You're just lucky I have bigger fish to fry, sweetie. The likes of Lucky Monaco-Cage and this Dakota Retard person...for the UPW Women's Championship. But next time, you won't be so lucky." Kaylee commented, as she starred at Mackenzie. Neither of them seemed to want to back down, both of them being well known for their uber bitchiness. "Oh, right...bigger fish. I got'cha. Sweetheart, if I wanted to break you, I could very easily. And I'd take your spot in that Championship match. I've done it before to many other lame bitches like you, and I'll be more then happy to do it again. I've retired skanks that looked, smelt and acted like you, so this whole charade of you being some "savior" and "top bitch", it's not going to work with me the way it would with some of these other punks around here. You're looking at a bonifide Wrestling Empress. I've seen your lame excuse for matches and I must say, Hannah Brooks was a better wrestler then you...and I retired her ass more then two years ago...and many just like her. You're pretentious, Blair Waldorf wannabe persona is tired, run-down and, much like you, useless. If you're some sort of "savior" to the Women's Division, tell me sweetheart...why would Randy Orton hunt me down, sign me, in hopes of bringing this company back to the standing it was once at. Could it be because your lackluster skill just isn't cutting it. The only reason you'll walk out of Legacy of Pain the champion, is because someone the likes of me, isn't in the match. But you can rest assured, whoever walks out with the golden ticket -- the championship belt -- will get the pointy end of my Prada shoe up their hairy, pimply, cottage cheese smelling ass. So please, go ahead and focus on the Women's Championship match, who the hell am I to stop you. But when it all comes down to it, that belt -- and this division -- won't see honor and prestige until someone like me wears it." Mackenzie said, getting in Kaylee's face. And, just for the blind, deaf and stupid -- just because their last names both happen to be Adams, does not make them in any way, shape or form...related. Mackenzie wouldn't ruin her prestigious reputation of being a glamour girl by being related to someone as rundown and scrappy looking, as 'thee' Kaylee Adams. Kaylee opens her mouth, as if she were going to say something, but before she could even utter a single word, Mackenzie quickly cut her off. "Yeah, I know...I'm a bitch. That's actually Miss. Bitch, if you please and I do enjoy the title. At least, when I act like a frigid bitch, I don't look all constipated and bloated. Try a midol love, it definitely does wonders for the....ya know...bloated feeling." Mackenzie said, as she puffed out her cheeks and stretched her arms at her waist, as if to mimic Kaylee, as if to imply that she was fat. "Good luck with that title match, sweetheart. Knowing the amout of talent you three posess...all of you are gonna need it!" Mackenzie said, as she laughed to herself, and walked around Kaylee. She continued her destination down the hallway. It would appear as though Kaylee's not wasn't going, completely, her way. First, her match request was granted but, with an added stipulation. A third person that, hadn't been much of a factor with the company until here recently -- Dakota Huntress. Kaylee's preference was a strict one-on-one match with Lucky for the title, what she got was a triple threat. If Mackenzie had it her way, it'd be a fatal fourway -- but that's neither here nor there. And now, it would seem, as if her 'beautiful' shirt was ruined by spilled coffee, and the newest female face on the UPW roster just out-bitched the self-proclaimed Savior of the UPW Women's Division. Could Kaylee's night get any worse? Do we even want to know the answer to that question. As Mackenzie turned the corner, heading down the hallway to her own destination, Kaylee was left in the hallway, with a coffee-stained shirt and an empty cup of brew in her hand. As she attempted to regain her composure, she tossed her cup into the nearest trash can and went back into the catering area for a second cup...this time, complete with a spill-proof lid! TO BE CONTINUED BY: ANYONE.

�?nbsp;re: |Just Walking Backstage| �?/FONT>

THEE EMPRESS RETURNS! Wow, her first night in her brand-spankin'-new company and already, Mackenzie found her new best friend. And we use that term in a dramatically sarcastic way. If there was one thing that anyone has ever learned from Mackenzie Noel Adams, in all her three and a half years of performing in this business; it's that she trusts no one and likes even less.  Starring at the blonde in front of her, Mackenzie uses her index finger, freshly manicured with French Tips, might we add, to wipe away some of the access coffee that might've jumped on to her perfect, blemish free face. Using that same finger to move a single strand of her gorgeous, dark black -- almost burgundy locks out of her face, she merely smiled in a most sarcastic way. The look of sheer anger on this blondes -- Kaylee Adams -- face, seemed to tickle her some. Chuckling under her breath, Mackenzie merely shock her head, before clearing her throat. "What are you, the hall monitor?" she asked, sarcastically, as Kaylee's anger seemed to grow more intense by the second. "Excuse me?! Do you have any idea who I am?!" Kaylee asked, in an extremely confident manner. "No. Wait, wait, let me guess. You're one of Santa's Little Whore's right? No, wait...I think even they wouldn't be caught dead in that outfit. Hmm...well, you can't be a fat cow. Okay so, maybe you could be, but that's neither here nor there. Okay fine! I give up. Who are you?!" Mackenzie asked, with a smile on her face. "Only the savior of this company, of this companies Women's Division which seems to lack talent and skill while continuously hiring tramps like you!" Mackenzie's eyes widened by that comment. The girl hadn't known her but a hot second, how could she easily sum her up as a whore? Which one of these two ladies was decked out in gear from Hookers-R-Us. Certainly not Mackenzie. Those stores weren't anywhere on Rodaeo Drive, and if they weren't in the "Fashion Disctrict" as she referred to them, then they were of no use to her. "Right. So says the Vivian Ward wannabe." Mackenzie said, with a smile. "I honestly think the best part of that entire outfit, is the coffee stain that's splattered all over it. Where'd you get it from, anyway? Hags, Inc. I actually think my grandma has that same get up only...she fills it out much better...and she's pushing sixty six. God, I puke cuter then that outfit you've attempted to throw together." She continued. The look on Kaylee's face was pure shock. In all her years in competition, she'd come across many that would 'try' to insult her, most would cower to her. But not Mackenzie. She'd never cower to anyone, let alone some blonde bimbo, straight to video version of Pam Anderson like the one standing before her. "You've obviously never heard of me. And because you're an idiot, I'll let it slide...this time. You're just lucky I have bigger fish to fry, sweetie. The likes of Lucky Monaco-Cage and this Dakota Retard person...for the UPW Women's Championship. But next time, you won't be so lucky." Kaylee commented, as she starred at Mackenzie. Neither of them seemed to want to back down, both of them being well known for their uber bitchiness. "Oh, right...bigger fish. I got'cha. Sweetheart, if I wanted to break you, I could very easily. And I'd take your spot in that Championship match. I've done it before to many other lame bitches like you, and I'll be more then happy to do it again. I've retired skanks that looked, smelt and acted like you, so this whole charade of you being some "savior" and "top bitch", it's not going to work with me the way it would with some of these other punks around here. You're looking at a bonifide Wrestling Empress. I've seen your lame excuse for matches and I must say, Hannah Brooks was a better wrestler then you...and I retired her ass more then two years ago...and many just like her. You're pretentious, Blair Waldorf wannabe persona is tired, run-down and, much like you, useless. If you're some sort of "savior" to the Women's Division, tell me sweetheart...why would Randy Orton hunt me down, sign me, in hopes of bringing this company back to the standing it was once at. Could it be because your lackluster skill just isn't cutting it. The only reason you'll walk out of Legacy of Pain the champion, is because someone the likes of me, isn't in the match. But you can rest assured, whoever walks out with the golden ticket -- the championship belt -- will get the pointy end of my Prada shoe up their hairy, pimply, cottage cheese smelling ass. So please, go ahead and focus on the Women's Championship match, who the hell am I to stop you. But when it all comes down to it, that belt -- and this division -- won't see honor and prestige until someone like me wears it." Mackenzie said, getting in Kaylee's face. And, just for the blind, deaf and stupid -- just because their last names both happen to be Adams, does not make them in any way, shape or form...related. Mackenzie wouldn't ruin her prestigious reputation of being a glamour girl by being related to someone as rundown and scrappy looking, as 'thee' Kaylee Adams. Kaylee opens her mouth, as if she were going to say something, but before she could even utter a single word, Mackenzie quickly cut her off. "Yeah, I know...I'm a bitch. That's actually Miss. Bitch, if you please and I do enjoy the title. At least, when I act like a frigid bitch, I don't look all constipated and bloated. Try a midol love, it definitely does wonders for the....ya know...bloated feeling." Mackenzie said, as she puffed out her cheeks and stretched her arms at her waist, as if to mimic Kaylee, as if to imply that she was fat. "Good luck with that title match, sweetheart. Knowing the amout of talent you three posess...all of you are gonna need it!" Mackenzie said, as she laughed to herself, and walked around Kaylee. She continued her destination down the hallway. It would appear as though Kaylee's not wasn't going, completely, her way. First, her match request was granted but, with an added stipulation. A third person that, hadn't been much of a factor with the company until here recently -- Dakota Huntress. Kaylee's preference was a strict one-on-one match with Lucky for the title, what she got was a triple threat. If Mackenzie had it her way, it'd be a fatal fourway -- but that's neither here nor there. And now, it would seem, as if her 'beautiful' shirt was ruined by spilled coffee, and the newest female face on the UPW roster just out-bitched the self-proclaimed Savior of the UPW Women's Division. Could Kaylee's night get any worse? Do we even want to know the answer to that question. As Mackenzie turned the corner, heading down the hallway to her own destination, Kaylee was left in the hallway, with a coffee-stained shirt and an empty cup of brew in her hand. As she attempted to regain her composure, she tossed her cup into the nearest trash can and went back into the catering area for a second cup...this time, complete with a spill-proof lid! TO BE CONTINUED BY: ANYONE.