As hotel lobbies go, it was average. Just about the extent of what any CWF roster member that is on the road has to get used to. Tara Robinson heads to the elevator bank after getting directions from the clerk. Room 233. A weird feeling washes over Tara and company as they travel to the room, knocking at the door once they arrive. Just like any other scene from a campy horror flick, it creaks open, and of course shuts by itself once everyone is inside.
Mia Rayne: Hola chickarita, welcome to generic promo site, we'd do better, but time is short and things need to be addressed.
Tara nods and the cameraman, name badge proudly displaying the name, "Stan," on his chest, turns the camera power on.
Tara Robinson: Ladies and gentlemen, after a grueling battle tonight against World Champion Duce Jones, we are joined tonight by Mia Rayne. Mia, how are you feeling?
Mia Rayne: Like we took several knees to the face and drew the short straw.
She smiles weakly at the camera and waves as she comes into view, in a state of half dressed, she is wearing her wrestling top, a pair of colorful leggings, and a pair of jean shorts on the bottom. A pair of combat boots completes the ensemble as she quickly secures a sleeve on her arm.
Tara Robinson: Right. That loss could not have felt good after all the verbal sparring you and Duce did leading up to it.
Mia Rayne: Ya know? It didn't, but that's life. We just so happened to be the victim of poor booking by management and Jon Stewart's obscene fear that we'll get bigger than he can allow.
Tara Robinson: Care to elaborate?
Mia smiles coyly and sits down on the bed, inviting Tara to take a seat where she was comfortable. Finding a chair tucked away under a desk, she rolls it out and sits across from Mia.
Mia Rayne: Be more than happy to, but first, we need Duce to hear something loud and clear. We need the fans to not only HEAR something, but to feel it too. We know you feel it Tara, we see the goosebumps on your skin, we feel the heartbeat of the world racing. Tonight's "loss?" It meant nothing. Duce proved he was the better person one night, for three seconds longer than we could. We could sit here and make excuses all night but bottom line, he's still the champion and we are still going to pursue him until our bloodlust is sated. Endo storio.
Tara nods and presses.
Tara Robinson: The word "respect" was used a lot between the two of you the past week. You claim that you and he were friends at one point, he claims that anything involving you was just "business" and feels that you and The Forsaken are nothing more than a cancer to plague the CWF. Care to respond?
Mia Rayne: What do you mean "respond" Tara? We've been defending ourselves the last forty eight hours from Duce's ascinine world view, that somehow because we stood up for what was right for the federation as a whole, when we might add, HE WAS NO WHERE TO BE FOUND. Had The Forsaken NOT done anything against The Oreos? Do YOU want to imagine a world controlled by them? Think Duce, Freddie, and old man Jarvis was bad, and we use that term loosely... That's nothing compared to what would have happened had no one stood up against them. Duce wants to compare us to a cancer? That's cool. The thing about cancer Duce? It fuckin SPREADS. It spreads, it infects, and it takes over every facet of your fuckin' life. You want a cancer? You got it.
Tara tries to interject to get the topic changed. She is overruled by a now fired up Mia.
Mia Rayne: Do you really think that tonight meant anything? Nah, win or lose, we got what we were after. We found out exactly the type of person you are, and Duce? We decided that you aren't worth our time of day. You want respect? You want to talk about earning your spot? Bitch, sit down and prove it then. You posturing with that belt means nothing more than a peacock with a beatiful feathers struts its stuff in front of me. Just because we want all the colors for ourselves, doesn't mean we attack the peacock, we admire it from afar. We plan, and we wait, and we watch, and we fix everything up that needs fixing.
We evolve. We multiply. We adapt, and we outgrow useless people like Duce and his posse. So allow Duce his time to shine, someone had to lose tonight and that person was yours truly. We could sit here and make excuses. The lights were bright, he smelled like cognac and weed, not that we're complaining. We had Ataxia on the mind, because, well, we'll mention that in a moment. Fact of the matter is Duce won, we lost. He wants to talk about facts? Let's talk about facts. Duce is the type of man that hits people from behind just to get an extra payday. Fact. Duce feels The Forsaken is a cancer that he is responsible for eradicating from the CWF history books. Fact. The Forsaken? They aren't dead. FACT. Ataxia? WILL be coming home. FACT.
And if this isn't hitting home for you at all Duce, then let us make this crystal clear for even your thick skull to comprehend: You will NEVER be better than us, because we will never allow you that satisfaction. We will always be there, getting into your face and making you put up or shut up. You do nothing but blow hot air and flip flop harder than Rolash during a Shadow versus Ataxia match. There WILL come a time Duce, when you are lying there, broken, bleeding, and reaching out for help. Our eyes will meet and in that moment you will realize how badly you fucked up when you made an enemy out of us.
We've wasted enough precious time on Douche and Co. Tara, if you'll excuse us, feel free to ask another question, just have to do a last minute check of my room.
Tara Robinson: Thank you Mia, you were going to tell the people about you and Ataxia? Over the last couple of weeks, while you were away, he has had some choice words to say about you and your relation... Ship?
Tara has to stop as Mia reemerges from her room, carrying a small bag and wearing...
Tara Robinson: A... Why do you have Ataxia's mask?!
MiTaxia turns her head to Tara and cocks it at an awkward angle. She flexes her jaw, eliciting a loud *CRACK* from the jaw bone. Tara winces and a soft giggle can be heard...
MiTaxia: Oh this lil' ol' thing? This... This is what is more important than Duce and his over inflated ego. Shouldn't matter after the PPV, Ryan has been nicknamed, "The Ego Buster" for some reason. We wonder if it's because he enjoys tacos?
Tara starts to ask a question but stops herself. She tries again as MiTaxia pets her burlap mask. Graciously, the burlap mask takes over again.
MiTaxia: We're going to make this short and sweet because THIS is why we came back. Right here. Ataxia and us, we... We had something special. He was there when we fell down the rabbit hole and we heard his voice throughout our dreams, guiding us to where we are now. He helped us become... Us. Just like with Duce, we got in the ring with him not to win, but to determine the type of person he is. Duce is nothing but a douche, but we wonder... What happens when we look into the eyes of Ataxia, take him by the hand, and lead him home? You know what they say Tara...
The mask goes from staring blankly at the wall to snapping so it is looking directly into Tara's soul.
MiTaxia: If you can't beat them, you join them. Fight fire with fire and when one world doesn't work with another... Blend until you reach a nice and even consistency. We would like the world to know that MiTaxia will be bringing Ataxia home and The Forsaken will be back after a message from our sponsors.
With sudden speed, MiTaxia hops up to her feet and gets her face right into the lens of the camera, smooching it on the lens, grabbing her bags, and leaving Tara and crew confused as to what exactly just happened.
"The concession stands are now selling those cheap hotel room round soap disks that I have personally blessed for $100’s a bar….AND SINNERS….I suggest you buy one, and use it, because if you think your God wants you in his heaven smelling like a 3am New York City uber ride you got another thing coming."