Post by Vhodka Marie on Sept 15, 2020 15:34:26 GMT -5
So, here’s the thing. Sometimes in life when you do something that’s not particularly kosher you have to pay the piper. Well, I mean, you don’t REALLY. You can do anything you want, your morals and guilt are the only limitations to how fantastical your world may be. Unfortunately, my guilt was getting in the way lately. See, I had this vision of how this whole thing was going to go when I came back and like any good plan in my life I completely screwed it up in under five minutes. Almost a new record! The only silver lining to this is that usually, it all ends up working out in the end for me, no matter how many ways I screw the pooch. No, not talking about Blair, this is a figurative pooch.
When I picked up the phone and called Damon I had everything carefully constructed in my head, I was going to come in quietly and get to work and systematically do all those things you’re supposed to do when you’re a woman in my position. Yeah, I’d been watching what was happening but I was going to keep my nose out of it - heh, right, cause I’m so known for that. But then I hit that arena and I looked around and all I could think of was how much I wanted to introduce a little chaos. Shake things up a little. Everything was just so… dull. Boring, boring, boring. What’s the point of even being in this business if you’re just going to be a character in the worst Hallmark movie ever? It was with that spirit that I started on my journey to shake up the status quo of OPW.
It was actually working really well, better than I had expected. Johnny Stylez was given only the briefest of mentions and yet look at him now - he can’t keep my name out of his mouth. Vhodka Marie dominates every part of his thoughts. The man was a footnote, a quick one liner, I barely even gave him any thought at all but all he wanted to do when the show went off the air was talk about little old me and Wholesome Roger Wright. You’d think someone who considers me so irrelevant wouldn’t even waste the breath to mention me but I long ago stopped trying to figure out literally anything that Johnny Stylez does. Johnny practically salivated at the idea of getting to sign me to his promotion, he knew that my name on the card means asses in seats and money in pockets. Oh, you wouldn’t think that to hear him talk after I went AWOL, but he knows. Johnny made one tiny little mistake though. Johnny has spent too much time around women like Blair and Anicka, he thinks all women are the same. Stroke our ego a little, play to our vanity, give us something shiny and we’ll be nice and pliable ready to eat from the palm of his hand. That was where Johnny messed up with me. He thought he could bring in Vhodka Marie and control her, use her, make her a tool in his arsenal. Too bad for him I got tired of being someone else's tool a long time ago. Speaking of peoples tools, he does seem pretty preoccupied with my hair and tattoos so maybe he’s considering trading Blair in for something more spicy and this is the only way he knows how to get my attention? Well, I’d hate to disappoint him.
Plenty of time for that later on though, right now I had other things up my sleeve. Remember when I told you sometimes you screw the pooch and have to pay the piper? Well, I’d never admit it but I was feeling a little guilty about some of the things I had said the other night. I actually hadn’t even meant to say most of it but after running into Vincent and spending some time catching up I was just so disappointed I couldn’t help myself. The fire, the passion, the magnetism - all gone. Washed away by money, fame, talent and the happy little family at home. It really pissed me off. Look, I don’t begrudge people their happiness, this isn’t about that. If Vincent wants to play house, tend the garden and be Mr. Myagi to the Wolf clan then by all means, go ahead. I’m not trying to get him to defect and abandon all responsibility just because I did, even though that could be pretty fun. But at least go out on your terms, don’t go out bottoming to these little bitches around here. They don’t deserve it.
Have you ever had to look across at someone you respect and love and watch them narrate their life on autopilot? That was what my conversation with Vincent was like. Waaaay too Invasion of the Body Snatchers for my taste. And as I sat there nodding at the appropriate times I just couldn’t help but wonder: what had gone so wrong? You want your friends to be happy, don’t you? So do I, I’m no different in that respect. Imagine your girlfriend is in a relationship with a womanizer but she just isn’t ready to face the facts yet. She makes excuses for him “oh he didn’t really do anything, they only kissed the one time with all their clothes off” yeah, right. All the world can see what’s really going on but your friend is totally blind, too stuck in the pattern and too afraid of what worse thing might be lurking should she deviate from the current painful but predictable path. That’s where Vincent was when I looked at him, a man stuck in the same old boring pattern he’s been in for a decade but not ready to look it in the face yet. He’s not entirely to blame, of course. He’s been helped along on his path by the well meaning hands of The Wolfpack if you really want to know the truth about things. It’s even hard for me to put the blame on them, really. They have everything: more money than they know what to do with, land, fame, healthy happy families with more generations being popped out approximately every three days. Why would they want to fight? But more specifically, why would they want Vincent to fight? Maybe it’s time for the Black Wolf to pack it up and sail off into the sunset with his favorite redhead.
Feeling all of this, knowing it, probably didn’t entirely give me the right to come in and blow the lid off things. Certainly, saying it on air to a few thousand people may in retrospect not have been the most logical way to go about it. I know, I know, it was kind of a dick move. So maybe I could soften the blow, at least a little? Hell, at least it’d probably make him laugh. That was reason enough in itself. Can you even remember the last time anyone saw that guy crack a smile? Don’t worry, I’ll wait.
The man on the other end of the phone had been confused at first by my request, but it didn’t matter, just so long as he could do what I wanted. This wasn’t about the man on the other line, anyway. This was about the man almost at the end of the line. This was about the man who was about to be handed a reprieve, if he could only open his eyes in time to see it. One thing I didn’t really count on was how tricky it would be to get this to him. Have you ever tried Amazon Priming something to “Parts Unknown”? Yeah, I didn’t think so. Like, How do you order a pizza? Jesus, no wonder they're all so sedated, they might as well be Amish.
And I want the card to read the following:
So that you are always able to spit on those that are beneath you. Remember who you are.
When I picked up the phone and called Damon I had everything carefully constructed in my head, I was going to come in quietly and get to work and systematically do all those things you’re supposed to do when you’re a woman in my position. Yeah, I’d been watching what was happening but I was going to keep my nose out of it - heh, right, cause I’m so known for that. But then I hit that arena and I looked around and all I could think of was how much I wanted to introduce a little chaos. Shake things up a little. Everything was just so… dull. Boring, boring, boring. What’s the point of even being in this business if you’re just going to be a character in the worst Hallmark movie ever? It was with that spirit that I started on my journey to shake up the status quo of OPW.
It was actually working really well, better than I had expected. Johnny Stylez was given only the briefest of mentions and yet look at him now - he can’t keep my name out of his mouth. Vhodka Marie dominates every part of his thoughts. The man was a footnote, a quick one liner, I barely even gave him any thought at all but all he wanted to do when the show went off the air was talk about little old me and Wholesome Roger Wright. You’d think someone who considers me so irrelevant wouldn’t even waste the breath to mention me but I long ago stopped trying to figure out literally anything that Johnny Stylez does. Johnny practically salivated at the idea of getting to sign me to his promotion, he knew that my name on the card means asses in seats and money in pockets. Oh, you wouldn’t think that to hear him talk after I went AWOL, but he knows. Johnny made one tiny little mistake though. Johnny has spent too much time around women like Blair and Anicka, he thinks all women are the same. Stroke our ego a little, play to our vanity, give us something shiny and we’ll be nice and pliable ready to eat from the palm of his hand. That was where Johnny messed up with me. He thought he could bring in Vhodka Marie and control her, use her, make her a tool in his arsenal. Too bad for him I got tired of being someone else's tool a long time ago. Speaking of peoples tools, he does seem pretty preoccupied with my hair and tattoos so maybe he’s considering trading Blair in for something more spicy and this is the only way he knows how to get my attention? Well, I’d hate to disappoint him.
Plenty of time for that later on though, right now I had other things up my sleeve. Remember when I told you sometimes you screw the pooch and have to pay the piper? Well, I’d never admit it but I was feeling a little guilty about some of the things I had said the other night. I actually hadn’t even meant to say most of it but after running into Vincent and spending some time catching up I was just so disappointed I couldn’t help myself. The fire, the passion, the magnetism - all gone. Washed away by money, fame, talent and the happy little family at home. It really pissed me off. Look, I don’t begrudge people their happiness, this isn’t about that. If Vincent wants to play house, tend the garden and be Mr. Myagi to the Wolf clan then by all means, go ahead. I’m not trying to get him to defect and abandon all responsibility just because I did, even though that could be pretty fun. But at least go out on your terms, don’t go out bottoming to these little bitches around here. They don’t deserve it.
Have you ever had to look across at someone you respect and love and watch them narrate their life on autopilot? That was what my conversation with Vincent was like. Waaaay too Invasion of the Body Snatchers for my taste. And as I sat there nodding at the appropriate times I just couldn’t help but wonder: what had gone so wrong? You want your friends to be happy, don’t you? So do I, I’m no different in that respect. Imagine your girlfriend is in a relationship with a womanizer but she just isn’t ready to face the facts yet. She makes excuses for him “oh he didn’t really do anything, they only kissed the one time with all their clothes off” yeah, right. All the world can see what’s really going on but your friend is totally blind, too stuck in the pattern and too afraid of what worse thing might be lurking should she deviate from the current painful but predictable path. That’s where Vincent was when I looked at him, a man stuck in the same old boring pattern he’s been in for a decade but not ready to look it in the face yet. He’s not entirely to blame, of course. He’s been helped along on his path by the well meaning hands of The Wolfpack if you really want to know the truth about things. It’s even hard for me to put the blame on them, really. They have everything: more money than they know what to do with, land, fame, healthy happy families with more generations being popped out approximately every three days. Why would they want to fight? But more specifically, why would they want Vincent to fight? Maybe it’s time for the Black Wolf to pack it up and sail off into the sunset with his favorite redhead.
Feeling all of this, knowing it, probably didn’t entirely give me the right to come in and blow the lid off things. Certainly, saying it on air to a few thousand people may in retrospect not have been the most logical way to go about it. I know, I know, it was kind of a dick move. So maybe I could soften the blow, at least a little? Hell, at least it’d probably make him laugh. That was reason enough in itself. Can you even remember the last time anyone saw that guy crack a smile? Don’t worry, I’ll wait.
The man on the other end of the phone had been confused at first by my request, but it didn’t matter, just so long as he could do what I wanted. This wasn’t about the man on the other line, anyway. This was about the man almost at the end of the line. This was about the man who was about to be handed a reprieve, if he could only open his eyes in time to see it. One thing I didn’t really count on was how tricky it would be to get this to him. Have you ever tried Amazon Priming something to “Parts Unknown”? Yeah, I didn’t think so. Like, How do you order a pizza? Jesus, no wonder they're all so sedated, they might as well be Amish.
And I want the card to read the following:
So that you are always able to spit on those that are beneath you. Remember who you are.