Walk that walk
Posted On: May 7, 2020 21:09:19 GMT
Commission Headquarters, res1, and 1 more like this
Post by christinaking on May 7, 2020 21:09:19 GMT
I am Christina’s insecurities. I take the form of a mask passed down from one generation to another, a mask of blue and red. My name was Madwoman, the magical girl of Manchester. I was a world champion, tested in the fires of combat, given reign over professional wrestling like no other before. When the curtain fell and the lights were turned off Christina remained with me, with Madwoman. What a pair we made, indeed. Championship after championship. Victory after victory. Every passing moment led to even greater heights for our hero.
But then, then something unexpected happened. A rival took Christina out at the knees and hit her so hard that she lost a piece of who she was. Already overtaken by persistent psychosis Christina would delve deeper into the darkness of her mind as the world around her fell apart. Torn ligaments in her left leg and a concussion that few believed she would ever recover from. Even Christina’s family believed her career was over. What followed was five hard months of recovery. All the while Christina’s mental state grew worse and worse. Most days our hero would question what was real and what was fake.
Once stood a great woman. Five feet of absolute greatness. Now stands a broken woman, five feet of absolute madness.
There is only one person in the world who can calm this broken beast. Laurel Anne Hardy. Sadly for the world at large, Laurel has been stuck in Japan for months. Again, Christina has plunged even deeper into the darkness of her psychosis. There comes a point, however, when insecurity and psychosis brings out anger. That is the point we're at. The madness has given rise to a new beast, separate from Madwoman. Christina has become something different, something far more dangerous.
I am but a shell that Christina bursts from.
Persistent psychosis. The constant struggle Christina must contend with on a daily basis. If you only knew her struggle. The moments that our treasured star loses grip on reality and questions everything that surrounds her. The moments when she believes that the static on the radio holds messages for her or the moments when a pattern on a dress might make her vomit.
Without wrestling Christina would be nothing but a broken human being. Indeed, this life was almost taken from her in January of this year.
And now she is determined to never lose again. Let the world around her quiver in fear. Let them line up to face her, ever so sure they can defeat the physically unimposing wrestler before them. And then, let them see the truth as their dreams and hopes are crushed by the stiff kicks of a woman scorned by the industry she loves.
Madwoman moves mountains and made miracles happen. Christina creates nightmares. Face her if you dare. You will learn, as so many others have, that her madness is such that it spreads to all around her. Embrace this tragic love story. Embrace her madness.
------
“I was a villain that dreamed she was a hero, and I loved it, but the dream is over. The villain is awake.”
The interior of a private jet. The smell of smoke and alcohol fill the air. It’s been a long day for Christina, whom we find sitting upon a reclined airline chair. Upon her body is a Dickies t-shirt, a popular punk band, and a pair of pink sweatpants. Her hair is slicked back, blonde with streaks of red. Christina’s eyes are red from lack of sleep, a side effect of the former magical girl’s persistent psychosis. Our “hero” produces a cigar from the tray in front of her chair and lights the cylinder. Christina truly lives life on the edge, as any frequent flyer knows that lighting a cigar on a jet plane is a big safety risk.
“Five months ago I was the holder of the Trinity Wrestling World Heavyweight Championship. I was beginning the second year of my career. My rookie year was something to behold, let me tell you. I debuted under a mask as Madwoman and after a few months I had the support of every fan who watched me wrestle. In Trinity Wrestling I was a goddess, undefeated for all of 2019. I was so skill, so talented, that I even retired the Trinity Wrestling Television Championship. Everything fell into place on the night that Trinity Wrestling closed. That night I finally took the world championship. Not too long after I found myself in Action Wrestling. My first match there my opponent took out my leg and gave me a concussion.”
“That led to five months of pure hell. Physical therapy on my leg. Every session let me in tears. The pain was such that for the first time in my life I very nearly gave up. Besides that I had weekly meetings with doctors to manage my concussion, the first of my career. I would vomit in trash cans and I would get dizzy at random moments during the day. This entire time my girlfriend Laurel Anne Hardy, a wrestling legend, and her family were some of the only supporters I still had. You see, during my time away from the ring the outside world moved on without me. The strives I had made were quickly forgotten.”
The young woman takes a drag from her cigar and then hides her face. Soft laughter comes from her perky lips. Christina’s free hand beats the tray in front of her. When the punk rock ballerina raises her face there is a look in her eyes, a look of madness fused with determination. With a quivering lip, Christina continues.
“I learned the hard way that this industry is built upon the present, on the moment we’re currently living within. You can be a legend but so often a legend is a legend because he’s dead and gone. When I think about it I get angry. I get so angry. I gave absolutely everything I could to the fans and to the staffers backstage. I wanted the bookers to know that I was a force to be reckoned with. But at the end of it all nothing mattered. I went down with a ruined leg and a crushed skull and the world, including all of the people I struggled to impress, simply forgot about me. The blood I gave to professional wrestling wasn’t even dry yet.”
“Madwoman died the minute I signed my TWC contract. Madwoman was a shell. The mask protected me from the outside world and gave me strength. The fans loved how flashy my costume was but to me it was tradition. I believed in the persona of Madwoman. Knowing all this I will now tell you that as I am I couldn’t give a solid damn about Madwoman. The fans, the bookers, and the guys who pull the strings don’t deserve Madwoman. I’m done playing nice. Playing nice put me on the shelf for five months. What you have now is a fully unleashed Christina King, the carrier of a dark legacy, a newborn legacy of pain and loss.”
“TWC. That’s where I’ve landed after a legendary 2019 and a rough start to 2020. I stand among supposed legends and new talent. Look around and tell me how many of those wrestlers had a marquee 2019. Tell me how many of them can go down with a career ending injury, recover, and come back even stronger. Chrysalis definitely wouldn’t be able to do it. Bruce is too old to make a recovery from any injury, let alone the injuries that took me out. Speaking of Chrysalis I just recently caught that little piece of sunshine she sent to the TWC website. It was nice, you know, seeing two new talents converse about the present and the future. It reminded me of the conversations I had with my nephew Ross at the start of 2019.”
More laughter and another drag of the cigar. Christina begins blowing rings of smoke into the air.
“Chrysalis, you stand on the edge of greatness. All it would it is a three count over me, a third generation wrestler with a spotless record save for one defeat. It sounds easy, doesn’t it? It sounds like a walk in the park. I wouldn’t blame you for looking at my stats and thinking such. This five foot tall woman with a mysterious past, who weighs less than a bag of potatoes, she’s a pushover, right? Wrong. Christina King is a fighter who pulled herself up from the mire and muck of professional wrestling to become it’s youngest legend. My kicks have been known to take down giants and I’ve already beaten ancient legends to cement my reign of madness.”
“You, on the other hand, are so green that you may as well be the spokesperson for Jolly Green Giant. You don’t bring anything unique to the table. All you are is a rookie with a chip on your shoulder. You NEED this victory. You can’t afford to lose your first match in, not after two years of training. To lose would put you one step closer to the streets you just recently escaped. Me? There’s no doubt in my mind that I can win this. It’s not a question of need or desire. Simply put, you’re the dog I’m going to walk. So come at me with your needs and your desires, come at me with your expectations. Come at me and get walked like the dog you are!”
“And Bruce, I’ve seen your old ass on Twitter getting involved in my fights. You’re a wax shooting son of a gun, aren’t you? Quick on the draw but unable to sustain that hard exterior for more than a few minutes, am I right? I see your weakness and it’s just below the belt. Let’s just say Bruce is lacking in testicular fortitude but it’s not his fault. It just happens when you get his age. It’s just something you have to accept and deal with. It’s a good thing they make those little blue pills. Pop a few Bruce, maybe it’ll help you with your little… issue.”
Christina snuffs the cigar out on the tray in front of her and claps her hands. The fiery villain points directly towards the camera and smirks.
“I wasn’t joking on Twitter, my friends. After I hand Chrysalis her big loss I’ll be more than willing to face both her and Bruce in a handicapped match. I guarantee you that even with those odds stacked against me that I’d still win. I’m a better breed of wrestler. I’m the kind of wrestler that can’t be killed. I proved that when I returned from my injury a week ago and took the ECWF trios championships alongside Carnivore. I’ll continue proving it week in and week out as I rack up victories in TWC. Bet on me. You’ll win a fortune. So one more time, for old times sake…”
Christina stands to her feet, arms outstretched.
“Let… Madness…REIGN!”
Christina begins to laugh like a true madwoman as the scene slowly fades to black.
But then, then something unexpected happened. A rival took Christina out at the knees and hit her so hard that she lost a piece of who she was. Already overtaken by persistent psychosis Christina would delve deeper into the darkness of her mind as the world around her fell apart. Torn ligaments in her left leg and a concussion that few believed she would ever recover from. Even Christina’s family believed her career was over. What followed was five hard months of recovery. All the while Christina’s mental state grew worse and worse. Most days our hero would question what was real and what was fake.
Once stood a great woman. Five feet of absolute greatness. Now stands a broken woman, five feet of absolute madness.
There is only one person in the world who can calm this broken beast. Laurel Anne Hardy. Sadly for the world at large, Laurel has been stuck in Japan for months. Again, Christina has plunged even deeper into the darkness of her psychosis. There comes a point, however, when insecurity and psychosis brings out anger. That is the point we're at. The madness has given rise to a new beast, separate from Madwoman. Christina has become something different, something far more dangerous.
I am but a shell that Christina bursts from.
Persistent psychosis. The constant struggle Christina must contend with on a daily basis. If you only knew her struggle. The moments that our treasured star loses grip on reality and questions everything that surrounds her. The moments when she believes that the static on the radio holds messages for her or the moments when a pattern on a dress might make her vomit.
Without wrestling Christina would be nothing but a broken human being. Indeed, this life was almost taken from her in January of this year.
And now she is determined to never lose again. Let the world around her quiver in fear. Let them line up to face her, ever so sure they can defeat the physically unimposing wrestler before them. And then, let them see the truth as their dreams and hopes are crushed by the stiff kicks of a woman scorned by the industry she loves.
Madwoman moves mountains and made miracles happen. Christina creates nightmares. Face her if you dare. You will learn, as so many others have, that her madness is such that it spreads to all around her. Embrace this tragic love story. Embrace her madness.
------
“I was a villain that dreamed she was a hero, and I loved it, but the dream is over. The villain is awake.”
The interior of a private jet. The smell of smoke and alcohol fill the air. It’s been a long day for Christina, whom we find sitting upon a reclined airline chair. Upon her body is a Dickies t-shirt, a popular punk band, and a pair of pink sweatpants. Her hair is slicked back, blonde with streaks of red. Christina’s eyes are red from lack of sleep, a side effect of the former magical girl’s persistent psychosis. Our “hero” produces a cigar from the tray in front of her chair and lights the cylinder. Christina truly lives life on the edge, as any frequent flyer knows that lighting a cigar on a jet plane is a big safety risk.
“Five months ago I was the holder of the Trinity Wrestling World Heavyweight Championship. I was beginning the second year of my career. My rookie year was something to behold, let me tell you. I debuted under a mask as Madwoman and after a few months I had the support of every fan who watched me wrestle. In Trinity Wrestling I was a goddess, undefeated for all of 2019. I was so skill, so talented, that I even retired the Trinity Wrestling Television Championship. Everything fell into place on the night that Trinity Wrestling closed. That night I finally took the world championship. Not too long after I found myself in Action Wrestling. My first match there my opponent took out my leg and gave me a concussion.”
“That led to five months of pure hell. Physical therapy on my leg. Every session let me in tears. The pain was such that for the first time in my life I very nearly gave up. Besides that I had weekly meetings with doctors to manage my concussion, the first of my career. I would vomit in trash cans and I would get dizzy at random moments during the day. This entire time my girlfriend Laurel Anne Hardy, a wrestling legend, and her family were some of the only supporters I still had. You see, during my time away from the ring the outside world moved on without me. The strives I had made were quickly forgotten.”
The young woman takes a drag from her cigar and then hides her face. Soft laughter comes from her perky lips. Christina’s free hand beats the tray in front of her. When the punk rock ballerina raises her face there is a look in her eyes, a look of madness fused with determination. With a quivering lip, Christina continues.
“I learned the hard way that this industry is built upon the present, on the moment we’re currently living within. You can be a legend but so often a legend is a legend because he’s dead and gone. When I think about it I get angry. I get so angry. I gave absolutely everything I could to the fans and to the staffers backstage. I wanted the bookers to know that I was a force to be reckoned with. But at the end of it all nothing mattered. I went down with a ruined leg and a crushed skull and the world, including all of the people I struggled to impress, simply forgot about me. The blood I gave to professional wrestling wasn’t even dry yet.”
“Madwoman died the minute I signed my TWC contract. Madwoman was a shell. The mask protected me from the outside world and gave me strength. The fans loved how flashy my costume was but to me it was tradition. I believed in the persona of Madwoman. Knowing all this I will now tell you that as I am I couldn’t give a solid damn about Madwoman. The fans, the bookers, and the guys who pull the strings don’t deserve Madwoman. I’m done playing nice. Playing nice put me on the shelf for five months. What you have now is a fully unleashed Christina King, the carrier of a dark legacy, a newborn legacy of pain and loss.”
“TWC. That’s where I’ve landed after a legendary 2019 and a rough start to 2020. I stand among supposed legends and new talent. Look around and tell me how many of those wrestlers had a marquee 2019. Tell me how many of them can go down with a career ending injury, recover, and come back even stronger. Chrysalis definitely wouldn’t be able to do it. Bruce is too old to make a recovery from any injury, let alone the injuries that took me out. Speaking of Chrysalis I just recently caught that little piece of sunshine she sent to the TWC website. It was nice, you know, seeing two new talents converse about the present and the future. It reminded me of the conversations I had with my nephew Ross at the start of 2019.”
More laughter and another drag of the cigar. Christina begins blowing rings of smoke into the air.
“Chrysalis, you stand on the edge of greatness. All it would it is a three count over me, a third generation wrestler with a spotless record save for one defeat. It sounds easy, doesn’t it? It sounds like a walk in the park. I wouldn’t blame you for looking at my stats and thinking such. This five foot tall woman with a mysterious past, who weighs less than a bag of potatoes, she’s a pushover, right? Wrong. Christina King is a fighter who pulled herself up from the mire and muck of professional wrestling to become it’s youngest legend. My kicks have been known to take down giants and I’ve already beaten ancient legends to cement my reign of madness.”
“You, on the other hand, are so green that you may as well be the spokesperson for Jolly Green Giant. You don’t bring anything unique to the table. All you are is a rookie with a chip on your shoulder. You NEED this victory. You can’t afford to lose your first match in, not after two years of training. To lose would put you one step closer to the streets you just recently escaped. Me? There’s no doubt in my mind that I can win this. It’s not a question of need or desire. Simply put, you’re the dog I’m going to walk. So come at me with your needs and your desires, come at me with your expectations. Come at me and get walked like the dog you are!”
“And Bruce, I’ve seen your old ass on Twitter getting involved in my fights. You’re a wax shooting son of a gun, aren’t you? Quick on the draw but unable to sustain that hard exterior for more than a few minutes, am I right? I see your weakness and it’s just below the belt. Let’s just say Bruce is lacking in testicular fortitude but it’s not his fault. It just happens when you get his age. It’s just something you have to accept and deal with. It’s a good thing they make those little blue pills. Pop a few Bruce, maybe it’ll help you with your little… issue.”
Christina snuffs the cigar out on the tray in front of her and claps her hands. The fiery villain points directly towards the camera and smirks.
“I wasn’t joking on Twitter, my friends. After I hand Chrysalis her big loss I’ll be more than willing to face both her and Bruce in a handicapped match. I guarantee you that even with those odds stacked against me that I’d still win. I’m a better breed of wrestler. I’m the kind of wrestler that can’t be killed. I proved that when I returned from my injury a week ago and took the ECWF trios championships alongside Carnivore. I’ll continue proving it week in and week out as I rack up victories in TWC. Bet on me. You’ll win a fortune. So one more time, for old times sake…”
Christina stands to her feet, arms outstretched.
“Let… Madness…REIGN!”
Christina begins to laugh like a true madwoman as the scene slowly fades to black.