& She laughs in the face of DEATH.                             . D E S T R O Y I N G  Y O U . εïз . warning : this roleplay is not intended for people who have strong dislike for graphic material. It's not my fault you're a coward.     *You said WHAT? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Backstage, Rebecca watches as Nova rants about his new best friend and current Heavyweight champion, Dante Cross. She squints her eyes finding it hard to believe anything she hears coming from this supposedly changed man. He sure has changed, hasn't he? Sadly, Rebecca had never known the man called Novacaine but had only heard of him, thus making the change irrelevant to her. Although from what she gathered he was a pretty nice man since the last time he was on the scene. This 'new Nova', as we'd like to call him is now unwhippable, friendly and a little more Dante Cross hugging than before. Rebecca has no business with Nova, regardless of the fact that he threw her name out in many of his promos on several occasions. Most noteably, during his reign. And now once again, Nova has decided to address Rebecca Rancid, or on a much lighter note discuss her future in BUD. And for that, Nova, Rebecca pouts at you. She just nods her head slighty, wishing Novacaine had stayed where he was so she could address him in person for the first time. But to no avail, Nova fled the scene immediately. Was it because he had to make use of the facilities after downing all that water? Or was it because he ordered a prostitute and he took time out of banging her to cut his friend Dante Cross a promo? What the purpose of his absence was, no one really knows. Then again, there was always different means of communication, if not face to face interaction. How do you think Moses talked to Jesus? But in a much more modern way, Rebecca shall address Novacaine for the very first time. She clears her throat after finding a spotting a few camera men and motions for them to come towards her. "Look what the cat dragged in." she says with a slight hint of sarcasm in her tone. "Why, it's Novacaine. One of my best.. uhh. Best friends? So, Novacaine. Can I ask you a quick question? How's Roxy?" smirking, she crosses her arms before proceeding with the rest of her 'tormenting'. "Sorry Nova, I've never known you personally, therefore I shall not place judgement on you and your relationships the way you did with me. But don't single yourself there, hun. You're not alone. The rest of the world is so concered with my life and what I do in it they throw anything they've got and follow me like mindless sheep. Even when I was missing in action, people felt free to run their mouth about me. Surely, a few people here in BUD still call my title reign a fluke. Do I care? No. I don't give a shit whether they thought I deserved to be the champion or not. But I was. I held that 'tin foil' on my waist for a good month and then you know the rest of the story. I most certainly don't want to elaborate, but then again you know your version of the story. Let's just keep that yours though. I know the truth and it obviously isn't what everyone else and their fathers think it is. And I'll fight against it till I'm dead on my death bed because what everyone else thought was complete bullshit and far from the truth." She pauses for a minute just to catch her breath. "You should know better. Everyone thought you had Roxy wrapped around your finger when you held that little title that so graciously hangs on Dante Cross's shoulder right now. But was it the truth? Did you truly brainwash Roxy to bend in every direction you wanted her to? Both you and I know the answer to that one." Rebecca winks, but not before placing her index finger over her lips with a smirk on her face. "Am I here to compete for the Heavyweight title again? Most would like to think yes, but the answer to that is no. No, I don't give a shit about the heavyweight title in BUD. As a matter of fact, I don't give a shit about any of the titles in BUD currently. Go look at the title history, you'll find my name in almost every corner you turn. Oh my god, I've held so many titles, that must mean I'm so fucking great, right? If I wanted to I could do it all again. But why? Why should I waste my precious time with titles? After all, Akmed just held that Budvision title not so long ago. The same title that me and my best friend Mat Collins bled over like it was a barbie doll in the midst of two young girls. It's won over by a much worthy advisery now, thanfully. But then again, I don't give a shit. Look at your little women's division here. You've got bitches like Genna and Snake Eyes and every other Mary, Jane and Vivian trying to pry each other's jaws open, when the only woman who's worthy enough in this company right now is Dannica. Amethyst Jane made a return which is quite wonderful as well. But then you find these hopeless insecure women like Nikki Black and Image Johnson. Such characters, aren't they? Nikki, Dante's little slave girl who goes back to him more times than a door knob to an office is turned during the day. She's still here, playing cat girl with the rest of these toddlers. Image, Miss Quadra Crown championess, Miss I'm so fucking great because I was the 'first' one to hold a couple of women's champions from a number of feds. Please. These two women continue to make me sick to my stomach everytime I'm forced to watch one of their promos. Image is relatively new on the scene, but she's already blowing smoke up her own ass after her little victory here in BUD. But don't get it twisted, I'm not here for the bytch champion or the BUDvision champion OR the heavyweight champion. I'm here for a reason that shall be revealed when I want it to be revealed." She takes a breather after tearing down most of BUD's show girls. "Sorry for getting caught up in the moment, Nova. But back to our subject. I'm glad you think I earned my reign when I defended my title but it means nothing to me anymore. BUD isn't the only fed in the world and titles don't do anything great for people. I am who I am and how many titles I've held in the past, doesn't make a god damn difference to me. Dante Cross can tattoo that title around his waist and I couldn't give a rats ass to be honest with you. I don't have anything against Dante or the his reign, so why should that thought cross my mind? And even if I did face Dante or earn a contendership to his title, I'd tell him to keep the title because screwing someone else out of their chance was sweet enough for me. But then again I'm too pre-occupied with being immortal because just now I realized that I was immortal, right? But mentioning that really won't ride a horse to the pond and make it drink water because whether I'm immortal or not, the gift and curse which I was given at birth, it doesn't stop anyone from choking on a cock and dying and has nothing to do with the title. The thesis of this little speech, incase you missed it was that I'm not like Roxy or Nikki or any of the other women you dated that required you to dip your cock into their purses and clean their anal cavities with your tongue. Just because you do it, doesn't mean everyone else is the same way. You don't know me and you probably never will because you're too pre-occupied with crushing on Dante and Seifer and everyone else. But really, if you want to go into details with me about my life and what color I like to polish my toes when I bored, ask me and I shall tell. Getting messages through ear isn't the brightest of ideas as you already know. And since your little saga with Roxy, I already thought you would have learned. I don't know when exactly I said anything to tickle your pussy, but then again people love to stick their nose where it doesn't belong. As for what you said about Dante, good for you. Maybe you could tattoo his name on your ass just for shits and giggles. Goodbye, Nova. Have a nice life with Dante and the cockroaches in your Motel. Because unlike you, I've got better things to do than to cry over spilt milk. Spilt milk that expired more than five months ago." The scene fades to black, just like it did when Jesus put the fire out.     Cherie [c] 2006: by stealing this layout, you're only further proving my point that you want to be ME.