【 ❝Once More With Feeling❞ 】
Oct 23, 2020 8:41:34 GMT -5
ARP, Blair Buchannan-Stylez, and 6 more like this
Post by Vhodka Marie on Oct 23, 2020 8:41:34 GMT -5
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Vhodka Marie
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Starring In...
【❝Once More With Feeling❞】
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Heavy red velvet curtains pull apart to show us the sleeping form of a woman in bed, bulky covers pulled up over her head, toes with chipped polish sticking out the bottom. The windows on the other side of the room suddenly blow open with a huge gust of wind allowing several pigeons and approximately six grackles to fly into the room, immediately descending onto the sleeping form in the bed and using their beaks to pull the comforter back. Music begins to play in the background as Vhodka Marie is revealed in Chilly Willy pajamas underneath the blankets, stretching in the morning light before opening her eyes to smile at the pigeons who are hovering nearby, one defecating onto the discarded comforter below as birds have no concept of indoor plumbing. Vhodka sits up on the bed, extending a hand for one of the pigeons to land on and begins to sing...
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Why in a world of ugly faces
Should I be allowed to be so hot?
So many people without talent
Yet I was born with all the magical gifts I got
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The pigeon, who is named Esteban and has been going through a hard time recently, flies away to join the rest of the birds as Vhodka stands, scratching her head and moving around the bed towards the bathroom, the birds begin to use their tiny bird beaks to unbutton her pajama top while she sings, a horde of large rats that smell vaguely of plum sauce have scaled the building and crawled in through the window rushing to clamp on to the hem of her pajama pants, slowly pulling them down her hips.
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The perfect body, the perfect face
It's like god's best work all in one place
But the haters hate perfection
Can't you see
It's a burden being wonderful like me
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Vhodka stands mostly unclothed but dirty important parts obscured by birds, smiling at the sewer rats who have built a complicated pulley system to turn on the shower. She quickly then turns to gaze on the pigeons that are holding the curtain back for her as she climbs inside the steamy water, thanking them each in between the verses. One pigeon swoops down to attack a rat as Vhodka adjusts the water temperature for comfort, words echoing around the small bathroom as she washes her hair.
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How in a world that's so imperfect
Did I wind up with so much cool
Friends never stick around too long
They never feel like they belong
Next to me they feel like a fool
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The shower curtain is pulled aside by the birds once more as the grackles hover nearby with a towel, she steps out taking the towel from the birds and secures it around her body. Her hair is suddenly dry thanks to special ancient pigeon magic and she moves back into the bedroom where the various creatures begin the task of dressing her in a lime green sequined jumpsuit with bell bottoms and a plunging neckline, it was designed by one of the sewer rats who did a summer in Paris after high school.
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I've got the grace of a dancer, a golden voice
People seem to hate me like I had a choice
Being this blessed is a lonely way to be
It's a burden being wonderful like me
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Vhodka dances into the living room to answer a knock at the door. Her agent Sarah Wolf begins to speak but is stopped short when she notices the birds cawing at each other and at this point defecating on every surface of the apartment. Vhodka dances away towards the kitchen as an opened mouth Sarah slowly follows her inside, dodging birds and jumping back with a scream as she notices the rats for the first time who have now begun to chew through the wires of a lamp.
« Sarah Wolf »
What the absolute fuck is happening here?! Jesus! Where did these rats come from? Why the hell is your apartment filled with birds!?
She is ignored by Vhodka who jauntily bounces around the kitchen, grabbing a banana from a bowl on the counter, running her finger along the rim of the kitchen sink and then moving back to join Sarah, cupping her chin in one hand and squeezing her cheeks as she sings.
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So you say you wanna hang around
Don't ever ask me to turn it down
I'm a diamond I'm gonna shine
Compared to everyone else
I'm like a whole damn diamond mine
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Sarah swats her hand away from her face and ducks a rogue pigeon that flies past and out the front door into the common hallway outside of Vhodka’s apartment, a scream follows from outside. Mrs. O’Feely, presumably.
« Sarah Wolf »
Why the fuck are you singing? Are you high?
Vhodka spins away from Sarah, arms out in a twirl before standing in the doorway with one hand on the doorknob, looking over the apartment which is now mostly torn apart. A splat of bird droppings has appeared on Sarah’s shoulder as she stares at the singing Vhodka in disbelief.
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I'm just a Maserati in a world of Kias
'Genius' wouldn't describe any of my ideas
If I was born in 1453
Leonardo Da Vinci would be jealous of me
But a world of Stevie Wonders would never see
It's a burden being wonderful like me
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With the final verse Vhodka tosses the banana at Sarah before she slams the door leaving her agent behind in the worst version of Snow White imaginable. We follow her as she walks down the stairs and outside to the street, the smell of Chinese food permeates the air from the restaurant below her apartment while a withered old man named Mr. Wu waves from the inside of the restaurant not noticing as the rats from earlier return home to the kitchen behind him. Pleasant breeze, scent of fresh egg rolls on the air, children's laughter at a man who has dropped his pretzel on the ground and looks suspiciously like Mohave… ah, another beautiful day! Her mood is bright as she thinks back on how funny life is, one minute she’s in the wind all by her lonesome and now she’s back on top at OPW getting ready for her very first title match. Of course, she would have liked the title to belong to someone she would actually enjoy facing and not the kindred spirit she found in Blair Buchannan-Stylez but not even that detail would dampen her mood on this fine day. To top it off, not only was she getting ready to challenge for the OPW Southern Heavyweight Championship but upon winning the Showcase Showdown match at Stairway 2 Heaven she also had at her disposal a WildKard title opportunity for the Immortal Title to be used in anyway that she should so desire. You see, most people would look at the WildKard as an opportunity to get themselves an Immortal title match but not Vhodka, oh no, her mind was not so limited as that. The WildKard meant that she could choose to give anyone a shot at the Immortal title, in any kind of match that she could possibly dream up - what power! And the cherry on top of it all, the opportunity to win the OPW Tag Team championships next week at Tag Wars 2. I mean, could you even imagine? First the Southern Championship, then the tag belts and then… who knows? Now Vhodka, don’t get ahead of yourself. Blair Buchannan-Stylez is no easy to topple foe, she’s the Queen of OPW. This isn’t going to be like the match at Stairway where your biggest concern was not being sexually assaulted, no, this one will be an honest to god challenge. And knowing Blair, a knock down drag out fight. They were professionals, after all, and as professionals she knew that Blair would be of the same mind in wanting to go out there and tear the absolute roof off the place. Xavier Wolf and Tommy Kain were fine, but not even they would be able to follow the spectacle and competition that Blair and Vhodka would go out there and serve up on a silver fucking platter. If there was one thing that the two women had in common, it was that. These weren’t women who were happy to sit back and play second fiddle to anyone, most certainly not to men of all creatures. It’s different for women, you see. Men will never understand being automatically thought of as secondary, as not as important, as not as valuable, not worthy even. But those times were rapidly changing right underneath their noses and most of them didn’t even realize it yet.
She slowed as she approached the magazine stand at the end of the block, stopping to survey the various covers and their stars. Blair Buchannan-Stylez on the cover of VOGUE, Xavier Wolf on the cover of FIGHT, Stephen Stratford on the cover of Outlaw Magazine, Michelle Riggs with a prominent position on Modern Dog. Her eyes returned back to Blair’s VOGUE cover taking in her fair face and recently blonde hair, no one could argue that the bitch wasn’t pretty. A couple of older women are also perusing the magazines a couple of feet away, they pick up Stratford’s issue of Outlaw Magazine, flipping through and blushing at several of the male talent.
« Woman One »
I’d sure like to see what his Stairway2Heaven looks like.
The women giggle, flipping a few pages forward. Vhodka tries to angle herself closer to see who the two women are talking about so she could compare the comments to locker room rumors about stairway size. In the name of science, of course. The man in question’s Stairway was more like the two steps you have to take to get from the sidewalk up onto the porch.
« Woman Two »
Can’t believe this one married such a hag, he must have wanted to make sure he was the prettier of the two!
Vhodka snickers under her breath as she looks over the first woman's shoulder at the couple in question. The wife really was a homely looking haggard bag of spoiled cottage cheese and she sure as hell wasn’t sure what he’d been thinking when he’d decided to marry her. The first woman flips the pages of the magazine again until coming upon the interview that her parents had given to Zuma Rockwell. They stop on a picture of Vhodka herself, the second woman placing a red tipped acrylic nail on the picture to draw the attention of the first.
« Woman Two »
Can you imagine looking like that? Don’t know who would want to go around looking like some escaped circus clown. It’s no wonder she disappeared for all those years, probably was embarrassed.
« Woman One »
Should have stayed gone, if you ask me. It’ll only be a few months now before they throw her back in that padded room she escaped from. Now this one! This one is what a woman oughta look like.
The first woman points a French manicured finger at a picture of Blair Buchannan-Stylez photographed at some red carpet event along the way. The two wind down their Outlaw review as the first woman places the magazine back down on the stand, turning to join her friend who has already taken the steps that will lead them both away. Vhodka stands there with her nose wrinkled up unto a frown. She looks down and over the rat assembled ensemble, taking assessment of herself from head to toe. Okay, so maybe her clothes had been designed by a small rodent and sewn by a team of very skilled opossums with nimble little opossum fingers. And yeah, her hair might look like a copper brillo pad submerged in a bowl of tang and left to bake in the summer sun for a few hours. But it wasn’t that bad, was it? Why were women constantly so horrible to one another? Shouldn’t we be lifting each other up instead of making harsh remarks like calling each other bloated mid day roadkill? Not that she would know anything about that, of course. Her face was pinched as she weighed the conflicting emotions about her own appearance against the comments from the women, stopping suddenly dead in her tracks at the entrance of an alleyway, her face no longer fighting to settle on any one particular emotion but now set in defiance. The beat drops as she begins to slide the zipper on the jumpsuit down voice echoing between the buildings around her..
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I’m walking in like Blondie
A human ball of laundry
No shower, just my perfume
My tights are grey, no costume
Don’t need to brush my hair out
Birds need a nest to hang out
Heels are a step from breaking
I’m so ah-ah-amazing
One leather glove, one satin
But I’m still good at snatching
Thrifting I found my glory
Cause I like wearing stories
Had you from the beginning
I’m playing dumb and winning
My nails are broken busted
But I’m still fucking dusted
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I’m polish remover
I’m ratchet couture
I’m a goddamn mermaid
I don’t need to try
I don’t even care who gives a shit
Cause I look fucking cool
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Vhodka slides the rest of the rat couture jumpsuit down her hips to reveal torn fishnets and neon pink latex hot pants with a zipper that goes all the way between her legs and up her asscrack. She throws the sequined jumpsuit towards the Horland The Hobo who shrieks with delight and eagerly starts stripping off clothes to slip into the frock.
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I’m standing 7’ 7” with my hair up to Heaven
Dirt poor but spirit wealthy
Dead battery from selfies
Skin on my knees is bleeding
Time for a psychic reading
Give Dionne Warwick a call cause
Pride comes before the fall
My hair’s never seen a brush
Smells like jungle juice and rush
I got your pussy popping
And there’s no sign of stopping
Eat up these kibbles and bits
Take us to 10 billion hits
A natural disaster
It’s Vhodka, don’t have to ask ya
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Horland has rather shakily climbed out of the dumpster to stand beaming in his beautiful lime green jumpsuit next to Vhodka. He looks at Vhodka with a wink, the weight of years of trauma has been lifted and his face is beautiful, the visage of an angel. No more alcoholism, no more crack, no more corporal punishment from the man who lives next door. Now he is free, ready to show the world just who he is. Vhodka and Horland begin a complicated dance routine - it’s everything. Fosse, fosse, fosse, Martha Graham, Martha Graham, and to finish it all off…. jazz hands. Horland stands, chest rising and falling with exertion but he is elated. In this moment, he was infinite. Vhodka turns to face him, a smile of pride clear on her face as she uses one hand to cup his dirty pockmarked cheek and speak the final words to the song directly to him.
« Vhodka Marie »
All right, so I’ve never heard of a hair brush. So I'm like a coloring book, even a child could read me. Well, you know what, motherfucker? WE look fucking cool.
A single salty tear runs down Horland’s cheek, this was a turning point in his life and she might as well have been his guardian angel. She gives his cheek a light slap before turning away and leaving the alley, standing at the intersection waiting for traffic to slow so that she could proceed to the lush greenery of the public park across the street. It felt good to help Horland find his way in this world, so often we’re too consumed in ourselves and what is going on in our own worlds to be able to stop and take a moment to consider the needs of others. What if instead of constantly tearing down the people we find around us we did something different? Like joined forces worked together so that everyone could shine? Some people might have looked at the down-on-his-luck man as a junkie who smelled like beef and cheese but Vhodka saw behind all that to the gentle soul inside. She saw a man who had wanted to follow his dreams to the bright lights of Broadway but had never made it, instead only finding the bright lights of the parking lot outside of K-Mart where he traded oral favors for peppermint schnapps. Those days were over now, now that he had the jumpsuit she was certain he’d be able to finally have the means to follow his dreams. Godspeed, Horland.
The cars pause as the pedestrians waiting to cross surge forward, Vhodka feels a vibration in her pants that ends up coming from her phone and not her underwear which is actually a nice change of pace for once. She flicks the screen on and looks down to read a text from the underwear remote holder/guy she’s been hooking up with. We cannot see the sender due to some stray pigeon droppings from earlier but the text basically reads that something has come up and he won’t be able to meet up with her later as they had planned, he assures her another time when he can get away. Just like that, Vhodka’s good mood dampens being replaced by aggravation as she strolls through the entrance of the park scanning the hustle and bustle of the people around her. A full twenty piece mariachi band suddenly appears behind her and begins a tune as she angrily sings…
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Yo de ti todo mi amor y mas
Y tu no reconoces ni lo que es amar
Yo me puse dispuesta a tus pies
Y tan solo con desprecio me has pagado
Pero ahora ve
Si una vez dije que te amaba
Hoy me arrepiento
Si una vez dije que te amaba
No se lo que pense estaba loca
Si una vez dije que ti amaba
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She watches a handsome man in running clothes kiss his wife and daughter goodbye on the curb before the wife pulls the car away and back into traffic. The man stands there for a moment, stretching in all those old familiar ways that runners stretch as she looks him over from behind. Now there was a man who had it together, clearly he was a devoted husband and father and judging by the car the wife was driving they must be at least moderately successful. To top it all off he was into physical fitness! Her voice was angry with longing and regret, belting out the words..
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Y que por ti la vida daba
Si una vez dije que ti amaba
No lo vuelvo a hacer
Ese error es cosa de ayer
Yo se que un dia tu volveras
Y tu de todo te arrepentiras
Yo me puse dispuesta me has pagado
Pero ahora ve
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Si una vez dije que te amaba
Hoy me arrepiento
Si una vez dije que te amaba
No se lo que pense estaba loca
Si una vez dije que ti amaba
Y que por ti la vida daba
Si una vez dije que te amaba
No lo vuelvo a hacer
Ese error es cosa de ayer
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Vhodka is flat footed and dumbfounded, this motherfuckin’ scumbag is cheating on his wife! And with a much prettier likely way more fun sidechick! The absolute gall of Mr. Tight Buttcheeks. With a squeal the car pulls away from the curb as her eyes land on the vanity license plate reading: “P4TTY”. Even the mariachi’s are shocked, totally losing the will to play their sad, sad song.
A mother with a little girl beside her rolls her eyes as the car drives away, the woman having seen the whole show along with Vhodka and the mariachi band. Her cherub faced angel of a daughter who has never done anything wrong ever in her life even if her evil monstrous father Tich says she does was distracted thankfully with her own musical number about tacos raining from the sky but had lost interest by that point. Her mother reaches down to take her hand, swinging it while the two move further into the park, picking up at the next verse of the taco song. The image of them walking hand in hand causes her heart to constrict with how much it reminds her so much of her childhood with her mother Beulah. The two had always been close for most of her life until her teenage years hit and suddenly her mother wasn’t “cool” anymore, but during those early years of childhood they were thicker than thieves. The park around her began to grow hazy and fade away until she was transported back in time to a memory that had been locked away in her psyche over the years, suddenly unlocked by the image of the little girl and her mother. Vhodka is a child again, lying in bed covered in a threadbare patchwork quilt that had been handed down through generations of Bickett’s for as long as anyone could remember. Her mother Beulah is much younger but still every bit the buxom blonde she remains today. Beulah kneels beside the bed smiling down at her daughter as she tucks the quilt around her body, gently singing.
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He talks about you in his sleep
And there's nothing I can do to keep
From crying when he calls your name
J o l e n e
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Vhodka looks up at her mother inquisitively, a question on the tip of her tongue, brows furrowed together in thought.
« Young Vhodka »
Mama, why do you always sing that song?
« Beulah May »
Your Daddy used to call me Jolene back before you were even a thought. So, I ‘spose it just has a special place in my heart is all.
« Young Vhodka »
Why did Daddy call you Jolene though, Mama? Was Jolene your name before but then you decided to change it?
Beulah tips her head back in a throaty laugh, the kind of laugh that's been getting the attention of men across the room of smoky bars for decades. She places her hands on top of her daughter's that rest on the quilt.
« Beulah May »
You see, back when we was young your Daddy was with another girl named Shirlene who lived across town. Now, Shirlene was known around town for being hot to trot so she had a bit of a reputation with the boys and no doubt when your Father heard about it he figured he’d go make her acquaintance so to speak. Well, one night a whole big group of us kids was out at a get together at Mr. Greer’s farm at the edge of town and your Daddy was there on a date with Shirlene. Daddy and I had come up together through school so we had known one another but he didn’t know about my little crush on him then. So, what I did was I waited until your Daddy excused himself to go to the bathroom and I followed him in there and we… had a conversation where I laid it out in no uncertain terms just what I thought of him. The very next day he broke up with Shirlene and a year later I got pregnant with you. But ever since that night your Daddy used to call me Jolene after the song,
so, when you came ‘round we decided to name you after it since it had a special place for us and now there you have it, the full honest to God history.
« Young Vhodka »
Mama…. you went into the BOYS bathroom?
A much older but not much wiser Vhodka is snapped back to the here and now with a near physical jolt, finding herself back on the city sidewalk on her way through town. Her mind had been hazy the past few weeks, spending far too much time in the past for her comfort and not enough time moving forward. But this week she didn’t have time to be distracted by childhood memories or early adult fuck ups, this week was important not only for her career but also for her sense of self. This was an opportunity, a chance to show people that she still had more left in the tank to give, to prove that they hadn’t truly seen anything about her yet. The Southern Heavyweight Title was on the line and while it might be in another gimmick match, Vhodka had found she actually tended to thrive in these sorts of unique situations. What exactly was a Music and Mayhem match? Beat the hell outta her but she sure as hell was going to figure it out, that’s for sure. Sure, she’d made some mistakes in her career, that was pretty evident. But this time, this was the chance to come back and make it all up. No more distractions of the heart, no more puppet shows, just hard work and determination from this point on. Okay, okay, maybe there would be a few more puppet shows too. Everyone loves puppets and she was only human, despite the rumors. There was of course the matter of her opponent to consider though and that was a conundrum she still hadn’t entirely worked her way through yet. Blair and she had a passing knowledge of one another back in the day but since her return she’d actually begun to find that she genuinely kind of liked Blair. They were two completely different animals, for sure, but maybe that’s why they seemed to work. There was no threat from one to the other, no competition, because they were both on such different paths, content to let the other pass quietly in the night. And so a friendly acquaintance had been born between two unlikely women and now they would find themselves across the ring from one another. Funny how fate works. But while fate had landed her in this match, fate wouldn’t be the thing that carried her over the finish line and to her first title reign in more than a decade
Her attention shifted from thoughts of Blair and the match to the thumping pulse of music coming from a doorway just ahead of her, her eyes scanned upward to the neon sign glowing crimson above the entryway: The Boom Boom Room. Vhodka really hadn’t intended to go inside, I assure you, but it was like some alien tractor beam had her in its grasp and she was helpless to turn away. Before she even realized what was happening she found herself in the permanent twilight of the club, eyes stinging from years of collected cigarette smoke that had seeped into the walls of the building itself. To her right was the bar and all you can eat seafood buffet, surely a culinary delight. To her left were three raised stages, two smaller and a larger in the center with a catwalk that bisected most of the room. Beautiful women who were probably a lot less beautiful in direct sunlight were gyrating on the two smaller stages in various states of undress as Vhodka walked through the sparsely filled room to select a table near the largest stage, her face lit by the pink neon tube lighting around the edge of the stage. It wasn’t long after she was sat that she found herself joined first by a bubbly blonde in a school girl outfit that looked a bit like something Horland might have favored and her friend, a mousy brunette that would have looked more at home in a soup kitchen than a place like this.
« Blonde School Girl »
I’m sorry, I know this is, like, very unprofessional of us but you look just like..
« Vhodka Marie »
Carrot Top? Bob Ross? Escaped circus sideshow performer?
« Mousy Brunette »
Uh, no. You look like that wrestler, the one that just came back on HBO.
« Vhodka Marie »
Oh, yeah, that. Yes, that’s me.
« Blonde School Girl »
Oh wow! We watch Showcase every week here on account of the men getting all excited by the violence, they tip way better when we put wrestling on instead of American Idol. I’m Bubbles and this is my friend Cayenne.
« Cayenne »
We’re real fans, too! Not like some of the other girls who just pretend to watch, we can name just about the whole roster! What’s it like working with Xavier Wolf? Do you know him?
« Vhodka Marie »
You’d be hard pressed to find a woman who doesn’t know him if reputation is to be believed.
« Bubbles »
Wow! This is just, like, too cool. You have a match coming up right? With Blair? Oh my god, I bet you’re, like, so nervous. She’s REALLY good.
« Vhodka Marie »
Yeah, Blair is something else, that’s for sure. I wouldn’t say that I’m nervous though, more excited I guess? The first match at Stairway2Heaven was something I could have done in a coma with one arm tied behind my back getting raw dogged by Mike Tyson. But this match, now this one will actually be a challenge.
« Cayenne »
Do you really think you can beat Blair?
« Vhodka Marie »
I mean, yeah? Like isn’t that the whole point? Look, Blair is a bad bitch you won’t get any argument out of me about that one. Just look at the woman! She could have sat on her ass being professionally pretty for the rest of her life, sipping mimosas and hanging out with Mariah Carey or something but instead she went into a business she hardly knew anything about and worked her ass off to get where she is today. I know it’s en vogue to knock her but you won’t get that from me. What she did takes guts, and I have nothin’ but respect for her when it comes down to it. But to answer your question, yes, I do think I can beat her. See, Blair is good - no doubt. But Blair doesn’t have anything to prove this time, this is just business as usual for her. Now, me? I have something to prove. I have a chip on my shoulder and a decade of time to make up for. So, while I love her, while I think she’s the shit, I won’t sit here and say that I am just going to lay down and lose this one. I’m going to bring her the fight she deserves and at the end of it, I’m going to take the Southern Heavyweight title off her hands so she can go forward like the boss she is and move on down the line towards bigger and shinier belts. She’s the queen, right? Well, the queen should have the top belt in the company. That’s the way royalty works!
« Cayenne »
You seem pretty sure of yourself, isn’t this only your second match there?
« Vhodka Marie »
Second match or seventy second match, it makes no difference. I spent years being unfocused and distracted, too wrapped up in things that I couldn’t change and shouldn’t have fought so hard for. I’m done with that now, now I am going to do what I should have done the first time around and dominate. I’m what they call a sleeper, half of them don’t even see me coming. They eventually will, dear Cayenne, but by the time they do it’ll be too damn late to stop the train from coming off the tracks and smearing them all into the pavement like Sahara has to smear her Monistat on every night before bed.
« Bubbles »
And then, like, next week you’re gonna be in Tag Wars right? I heard that you’re facing Miss Michelle and she is, like, my all time favorite wrestler ever since I was little. No disrespect or anything but she’s no Blair.
« Vhodka Marie »
Miss Michelle? That’s your favorite wrestler? Strangely on brand, I guess. Miss Michelle is an untalented hack with two brain cells. Every now and then she rubs them together hard enough to be able to call everyone ugly or whores but never anything much more creative than that. She thinks she’s something but she’s a joke, always has been and always will be. Tag Wars is another opportunity for me because if I go forward and beat Blair then all myself and my partner need to do is pick off the tag belts for ourselves and then presto! OPW’s first double champ, right here. Hell, who knows, maybe I won’t even stop at double belts, maybe I’ll make it a trifecta and go for three. The distraction will keep me out of trouble and that’s likely in everyone's best interest.
« Bubbles »
Well, she didn’t have anything nice to say about you either..
« Vhodka Marie »
You know what, I could sit here and tell you what I think of Miss Michelle all day but it’s not her time in the spotlight yet. She’ll get her due shine next week with Sahara at Tag Wars, this week is about Blair and the Southern Heavyweight Championship and that’s what I intend to focus on. When I was younger, I would have sat here saying something like..
Vhodka stands, pushing the chair back with the backs of her thighs before raising a hand in the air and snapping her fingers together. The DJ points at her as the beat drops..
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Cut a man off and my checks got bigger
Rich bitch shit, got a broke hoe bitter
Harder than any bitch, I'm the hardest in the litter
If you think she bad, put her in, let me get her
Y'all praisin' dudes that's doin' the minimum
They put that check in my hand, now I'm killin' 'em
Don't wanna link with these mens, I ain't feelin' 'em
I'll knock the shit out that bitch like a enema
⋅ • ⋅ ⊰∙∘ (¯`·._.·(¯`·._.· ★ ·._.·´¯)·._.·´¯) ∘∙⊱ ⋅ • ⋅
Cayenne looks a bit alarmed at the sudden shift in tone and also probably the unprompted singing but Bubbles actually seems like she’s feeling it, against all odds. The music continues on but Vhodka seems like she’s had a sudden thought as she scans the room briefly before sitting back down in her seat and looking up at Bubbles and Cayenne.
« Vhodka Marie »
That? That was the old way. That was the days of women at each other's throats, ready to tear each other limb from limb for no good reason at all other than some fatass in some room somewhere decided to pit us against one another. Why? Like, really, think about it? Why are we constantly tearing each other down instead of pooling our resources and doing what we should be doing which is RULING. Look at the dudes in this place..
Bubbles and Cayenne look around the room at the fine selections of male specimens that fill the sparsely populated tables. Vhodka again snaps her fingers in their face for attention.
« Vhodka Marie »
Not here! I mean in OPW, the dudes there. Most of those assholes aren’t even fit to hold your g-string Bubbles, but they’re letting them walk around like they have something to offer the world. I’d bet most any chick on that roster against some like KOP or The Enforcer. If we could just stop focusing so much on one another and start focusing on the shit that matters we could take that whole damn company over. Picture it, girls. Every single last piece of gold in OPW - held by a woman. THATS the future I’m about, even if I have to win every single one of them myself and defend them all at once. Blair gets that, I get that, people like Ophelia Pain get that. Coming attractions, girls. Big picture shit. At each other's throats about who slept with who and fighting amongst ourselves because your husband has his panties in a twist over something some other dude did to him thirty years ago? It’s tired. It’s old. You ask anyone who the best wrestlers of all time are and just wait and see how many men they get through before they finally reach the name of a woman. Time to change the culture around here and I’m looking for recruits. If I beat Blair in this match, it’s only the beginning..
A single spotlight shone on the empty mainstage as Vhodka quickly scrambles up to position herself dead center in it, now unexplainably dressed in full military ensemble or what Bubbles had assured her they used for the special Veteren’s Day shows the bar hosted every year. She holds a bullhorn to her mouth in the spotlight.
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Ladies all across the world
Listen up, we're looking for recruits
If you with me, lemme see your hands
Stand up and salute
Get your killer heels, sneakers,
pumps or lace up your boots
Representing all the women, salute, salute
⋅ • ⋅ ⊰∙∘ (¯`·._.·(¯`·._.· ★ ·._.·´¯)·._.·´¯) ∘∙⊱ ⋅ • ⋅
The lights flash back on as she now stands midstage flanked on either side by all manner of exotic dancers in costumes from all around the world. There’s a pirate, a nun, a sunday school teacher, a very convincing cosplay of Snake Plissken and even one Billy Mays who actually wasn’t a stripper but a very confused janitorial man who just wanted to feel like he was part of the gang. It’s all very ‘It's A Small World After All’ but with a much more ample bosom, most of it cosmetically enhanced but hey, who's complaining? The women march in place, hands held high in salute as Vhodka moves back and forth across the line scream singing like a general.
⋅ • ⋅ ⊰∙∘ (¯`·._.·(¯`·._.· ★ ·._.·´¯)·._.·´¯) ∘∙⊱ ⋅ • ⋅
It's the female federal
And we're taking off
If you with me,
women lemme hear you say
Attention
Attention
Attention
Representing all the women,
salute, salute
Sisters we are everywhere
Warriors, your country needs you
If you ready ladies, better keep steady
Ready, aim, shoot it
Don't need ammunition, on a mission
And we'll hit you with the truth
Divas, Queens, we don't need no man, salute
⋅ • ⋅ ⊰∙∘ (¯`·._.·(¯`·._.· ★ ·._.·´¯)·._.·´¯) ∘∙⊱ ⋅ • ⋅
The men in the bar are a little more awake now, most wondering what happened to the titty meat and why a man dressed as Barbra Streisand has joined the chorus line. Vhodka holds up a hand signaling for everyone to stop as she pulls out her phone reading off another text message off the screen. It’s the panty remote holder with new arrangements for the following day, finally come to his senses no doubt. She taps out a quick reply before looking around at the motley crew assembled on the stage behind her, it seems such a shame to waste such an opportunity like this. Like Horland who she had come to know before, this little stage in this funny smelling club might be the closest she ever got to the bright lights of Broadway. But for the first time in what feels like years, Vhodka feels transformed, luminous, alive. Her mind is clear, her panties are vibrating and she knows in her heart that the Southern Heavyweight Championship is ripe for her picking. This is it, this is what it all comes down to. At showcase she’s going to walk in the venue, go out to the ring and give Blair the fight of her life. Then she’s going to celebrate by spitting on people all night long.
The night had fallen while she was inside the club, but I guess you do tend to lose track of time when you’re doing an impromptu broadway show for a guy named Clem. As she steps out from inside her body is wrapped in a sheer catsuit encrusted in multicolored jewels of all varying sizes, another frock designed by the aforementioned Paris abroad rat. She steps off the sidewalk to a waiting 1948 Ford De Luxe convertible in candy apple red with white lightening decals on the side, running her hand along the side of the car before she opens the door and climbs in the driver's seat. The engine is already a steady hum as Vhodka begins to steer the car into traffic, her mind focused in a way that it hasn’t been in a very long time, so focused in fact that it takes her several moments to notice that the car has begun to leave the roadway and ascend into the sky, leaving a trail of glitter in its wake.
⋅ • ⋅ ⊰∙∘ (¯`·._.·(¯`·._.· ★ ·._.·´¯)·._.·´¯) ∘∙⊱ ⋅ • ⋅
Ridin' down the highway
Goin' to a show
Stop in all the byways
Playin' rock 'n' roll
Gettin' robbed
Gettin' stoned
Gettin' beat up
Broken boned
Gettin' had
Gettin' took
I tell you folks
It's harder than it looks
It's a long way to the top
If you wanna rock 'n' roll
⋅ • ⋅ ⊰∙∘ (¯`·._.·(¯`·._.· ★ ·._.·´¯)·._.·´¯) ∘∙⊱ ⋅ • ⋅
As Vhodka sings she looks down below at the rapidly shrinking city below her. The glitter is having a few very very minor unintended consequences as she flies away that absolutely no one could have foreseen and Vhodka Marie and OPW do not assume any responsibility for. The glitter has fallen in such a way that several people with asthma have begun to choke and reach for their rescue inhalers, vainly hoping that will be enough to save them. Worse even, windshields of the cars below are caked in glitter causing multiple accidents and what seems to be one fatality who from this height might possibly be Horland. A car careens off the road and into a gas station, a gigantic fireball erupts into the air and sails past Vhodka as she nonchalantly continues her song..
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Hotel, motel
Make you wanna cry
Ladies do the hard sell
Know the reason why
Gettin' old
Gettin' gray
Gettin' ripped off
Underpaid
Gettin' sold
Second-hand
That's how it goes
Playin' in a band
It's a long way to the top
If you wanna rock 'n' roll
⋅ • ⋅ ⊰∙∘ (¯`·._.·(¯`·._.· ★ ·._.·´¯)·._.·´¯) ∘∙⊱ ⋅ • ⋅
The sky around the car gradually lightens until it’s almost blinding as Vhodka and her Ford cruise through the clouds into what can only be described as the gates of heaven. Surely there must be some mistake, she thinks to herself. She’s almost certain she should have been going south, much deeper south, and not arriving here at the pearly gates leaving a trail of glitter and destruction in her wake. But hey, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, amiright? She cautiously opens the door to the car and tests the cloud floor for stability before she works up the courage to exit and walk towards the gates for a better look. As she approaches the gates doing a mental inventory of all the unsavory exploits of her life that she probably shouldn’t mention she is startled by the sound of heavenly trumpets playing what sounds suspiciously like WAP. The gates swing open slowly a few feet in front of our heroine as the figure of a man in a white suit approaches from the mist of fluffy clouds behind the gates, only as he draws nearer does her mouth drop in absolute surprise and shock. The man stops a few feet in front of her, hands clasped in front of him, a small smile playing on his lips.
« Vhodka Marie »
Holy shit! Stratford, you’re GOD?!
« Stephen Stratford »
Why do you seem so shocked?
« Vhodka Marie »
I mean, I just assume if anyone I know was going to be God it’d be like… I don’t know, X or something?
« Stephen Stratford »
First of all, RUDE.
« Vhodka Marie »
Sorry, nothing personal, man. Please don’t kick me out!
« Stephen Stratford »
Well, I’m sure more people have shouted out God while spending time with him so I guess I can understand why you would assume that. Nevertheless, for these purposes I am playing the role of God.
« Vhodka Marie »
What do you mean, these purposes? And playing the role? Are you or aren’t you The Almighty?
« Stephen Stratford »
I am what your subconscious has decided to use to represent the divine. So while I am not the real God I am your version of it here.
« Vhodka Marie »
Is this like that song from the nineties? OH MY GOD! Is this why you’re sad all the time??
« Stephen Stratford »
Focus! You have a lot that is about to happen in your life, I’m here to remind you to keep yourself on track. You cannot afford to squander all that is soon to befall you.
« Vhodka Marie »
Yeah, yeah...right.
« Stephen Stratford »
Do I have to spell it out for you? Jesus Stratford Christ, you can’t even spell your own name, of course I have to spell it out.
Stratford God rubs his eyes with his fingers already regretting being the physical manifestation of the Holy One in this little ordeal.
« Stephen Stratford »
You are being given an opportunity this week, an opportunity to win the OPW Southern Heavyweight Championship. It’s time to get your head screwed on and go out there and make it happen. Now tell me, why should I work in mysterious ways to help you win this match?
« Vhodka Marie »
I mean.. I hardly ever make fun of you anymore and that should count for something. Aside from that, Blair doesn’t even need that title! Look at her, she’s royalty! She’s an established household name. Her winning this match does nothing for her that she doesn’t already have but me, if I win, it marks me as a force to be reckoned with. Someone who people should sit up and take notice of. I’m tired of being a punchline, Stratford God. Fun is fun sometimes but it gets old after a while, you know what I’m saying? I’m ready to be a serious threat, I’m ready for people to stop and take notice of my name when it’s mentioned. And I am goddamned tired of being under the radar, I’ve spent what feels like my entire life under the radar. THIS is my chance to make them take notice, to come to the realization that I’m back and with a vengeance. The time for aloofness is gone, now it’s time to make a statement. The first part of that statement comes from beating Blair for the title, the second part will be when I go on to win the tag titles with Vincent.
« Stephen Stratford »
Now that’s what I like to hear. Alright, what’s your game plan for Blair when you get out there?
« Vhodka Marie »
Beat her.
« Stephen Stratford »
Fantastic. How?
Vhodka shuffles back and forth on her feet, looking around nervously as she tries to formulate a plan that would suffice for God himself, but instead only drawing a blank. Stratford God heaves a large sigh as the air around him begins to quiver and vibrate with energy. Vhodka crouches to a cower in the clouds as Stratford God begins to grow and transform like the most magical thing she’s ever seen, it only takes a few moments from start to finish for the whole thing before Vhodka cautiously opens eyes that had been squinched together at the first sign of trouble. What she sees is even more unimaginable than anything we have seen on our journey thus far. Stratford God is no more… well, not in the form we last saw him. What stands before Vhodka now is a gigantic iridescent gold and cream colored dragon with giant glittering wings and what looks like a nipple piercing.
« Vhodka Marie »
SAD DRAGON STEVE!! I mean…. Sad Dragon God? Sad Dragon Steve God? Sad God Dragon Steve?
« Sad Dragon Steve God »
Just stop. Vhodka, listen to me. You can do this. You have everything it takes inside you to go out there at Showcase and win the Southern Heavyweight Championship from Blair. All you have to do is believe in yourself.
« Vhodka Marie »
It’s just… sometimes that’s hard Sad God Steve Dragon Stratford.
« Sad God Dragon Steve »
I know, my child. The things that have happened before, they are in the past. You must clear your heart and mind of them and move forward with clarity and precision. If you can do this, there will be a great bounty waiting for you. When you go into your match, know that I am on your side in this and in all things. Trust in me and you will find your way.
« Vhodka Marie »
I will, God Dragon Sad Steve, I promise!
« Sad Steve God Dragon »
I am with you, my child. Always. Now go back to your world and tell them all what you’ve seen. Beat Blair for the Southern Heavyweight Title and then move forward to spread the word that Stephen Stratford is GOD.
« Vhodka Marie »
Yes to the first but uh I don’t feel comfortable with the second. Sorry. Oh! But one more thing. Are you able to, like, smite people? But like with crabs or gonorrhea or something?
« God Sad Dragon Steve »
No, that one actually is Xavier’s department.
The gigantic holy dragon opens his mouth to speak again but only a loud alarm rings out through the clouds. Back in her bedroom, an arm darts out from under the comforter to smash the button on the alarm clock next to the bed switching it into radio mode. The comforter rolls back as she sits up, yawning and rubbing her eyes before taking in the eccentric but orderly room before her as the man on the radio excitedly talks about Halloween almost being upon us.
« Vhodka Marie »
I gotta tell Mr. Wu that Sweet n Sour pork went bad. Weird fuckin’ dream, man.
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❝Once More With Feeling❞
1. The Burden Of Being Wonderful - Steel Panther
2. I Look Fucking Cool - Adore Delano
3. Si Una Vez - Selena
4. Jolene - Dolly Parton
5. Realer - Megan Thee Stallion
6. Salute - Little Mix
7. It’s A Long Way To The Top - AC/DC
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