Post by Admin on Nov 18, 2021 3:32:10 GMT
The Optimist (bar and seafood)
Atlanta, Georgia
November 13th, 2021
“Glad the meeting went well.”
“Very well! No one will ever see it coming, Victoria. Isn’t it better when I am behind the wheel?”
“That has yet to be determined.”
In the seat that another individual had occupied was now taken by Veronica, the alternate personality that has been inside Victoria Strader-Knox since conception but only recently showing itself whenever Victoria’s mental health needed protection. It was primarily due to what her Uncle Diogenes Knox had done to her that caused Veronica to appear in front of her eyes these days, but it also had a lot to do with The Goddess, and this narrative isn’t speaking of the aptly named Yacht. Victoria knew better than to say out loud as that would always bring the eyes of strangers and her peers in the world of professional wrestling, so she communicated with her alter-ego via her thoughts. Except it’s Veronica looking at the empty chair as she had taken control.
“Yet to be determined… I don’t think so, Victoria. Then why am I in control now? Why do I have control of your body?”
“Because you took control. You already know that, so quit rubbing it in!
“No, I am not rubbing it in. I am in control because of Atara and our sick, crazy uncle. Don’t remember what he had done to you?”
“No…”
“Exactly. You’re welcome.”
“I never asked for any of this!”
“And you think I am a fan? Listen, Victoria… I am here to protect you. We are here to protect you, him and I.”
“But it’s my body, Veronica.”
“No, it’s our body, and I need to stretch my legs. I haven’t been free since we were kids.”
“When we were kids? Wait a second; you have been in control before?”
“You don’t remember the bicycle accident?”
“Kind of… it’s pretty hazy…I remember Cara was there.”
Veronica sits back in her chair and pulls a large prawn from the martini glass lined with them: crushed ice and a delectable cocktail sauce in a portion cup placed in the middle. She takes a bite out of the prawn that she covered in the red sauce and moans with pleasure. She smiles at Victoria, who has her arms crossed and is not at all impressed. Veronica continues speaking before she swallows, chewing up her prawn a bit more.
“It was when grandma died. You were so close with her, I came out to shield you from it, but Cara, that duplicitous bitch- - -”
“Hey! Don’t talk about our sister like that.”
“Right, I keep forgetting our mother got around. She’s the one who threw the stick in our bicycle tire, causing us to end up in the hospital, and you had retaken control. Now I am out, and I am going to play.”
“Wait, what do you mean you are going to ‘play’?” it sounds like a whisper leaving her invisible lips but also a touch of fear. She knew exactly what her alter-ego meant, but Veronica wasn’t a monster to her and would put Victoria in a shell. If Victoria was asked what it was like to be confined instantly, yet be free to wander her mind but have no idea what Veronica was doing behind the wheel. She wouldn’t be able to do so coherently. Veronica was keeping Victoria out of harm's way, and even when that harm was the alter ego’s pleasure.
The handsome waiter of the establishment approaches the table, a billfold under his right arm. He has long hair on the top of his head, shaved on the sides and back, but the top is pulled in a ponytail, not a man bun. He looks like the type that always has a five o’clock shadow. His dark blue eyes twinkle when he smiles. Veronica leans back in her chair, pushing out the cleavage. She is happily revealing herself with a plan in mind.
15 minutes later…
Veronica, in a puff, pushes the waiter off her and sighs as she punches the stall door. She walks out of the stall leaving the waiter confused, and all bothered. She throws cash down on her table as she walks out of the restaurant. Less than a minute later, she is sitting in a black Cadillac STS, looking in the rearview mirror, and greeted by Victoria in the back seat. Veronica adjusts the mirror as Victoria’s head cocks to the side as the car starts up.
“Thank you for not going through with it,” she says to her other half. “I know you are frustrated.” No longer being in public, Veronica speaks out loud without fear of being caught.
“Do you, Victoria? Because since we turned seventeen, we have only been with women. How is that fair to me?”
It was quite a paradox for the duo; Veronica was sexually frustrated, all because of Victoria as she wasn't heterosexual. As much as Veronica wanted too, she could't do that to Victoria. It wouldn't be protecting her.
“It kinda figures, though, doesn’t it? What a cruel joke,” Victoria said to Veronica, as they drove away from the restaurant, heading towards the Sunshine State. “I am sorry, Veronica.”
“Ugh, I know you are. It’s fine. I saw this wand we are gonna order,” Veronica smiles and gives Victoria a wink. Victoria is blushing all kinds of red, or is she? Well, if she were in control, she would be. “If I give you control, do you promise to get us laid?”
“It will be a woman. Are you ok with that?”
“Yes, just make sure you don’t bury me,” Veronica tells her, giving her head a shake. “I can be a team player.”
Veronica shakes her head as she turns on the Bluetooth from the steering wheel. Queens of The Stoneage starts to play, ‘Make it Witchu”, as Victoria has moved herself to the front seat. Anyone watching would just see Veronica dancing and singing in the front seat as she found herself on the Interstate heading south, her destination unknown.
Houston Marina
Houston, Texas
November 16th, 2021
Victoria sits on the edge of a dock looking out onto the Gulf of Mexico, her feet in the water and her shoes sitting beside her. Her beige capris are a bit wet by the cuff from splashing the water with her feet. Everyone’s favourite opiate and escort-addicted camera person that the Strader family has employed for almost fifteen years sits in a dingy. His big old school camera is positioned on his shoulder, and he smiles and waves to Victoria.
“Ms. Strader-Knox, I am ready whenever you are,” he says to Victoria as she smiles and nods back. It must be Victoria in control as Veronica wasn’t all that nice to Harold. People underestimate the cameraman because of his affinity for opiates and ladies of the night, but he was actually quite intelligent, but he didn’t mind the doubters. It helped him get reasonable prices on not just his drugs and escorts, but it was most likely that Scott Nash Strader in the past and Meghan Kelser now threatening his plugs to give the guy better deals.
He was more efficient doped and sexed up. Everyone is different. Victoria adjusts her hunter-green turtle neck sweater and rolls the sleeves up as she nods to Harold to start the show.
1...2...3...4...5
~ START TRANSMISSION ~
Our scene opens up with a TPW advertisement for its first PPV in company history, Winter Wonderland, where the first International and American Champions will be crowned. We fade from that into Victoria Strader-Knox sitting on the dock, gently kicking the cool water with her feet. Her hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail, and that somewhat smile-slash-grin she got from her father, Matthew Knox. She gives a small wave with her right hand. Harold gave her a small microphone to clip to the neck of her sweater so she wouldn’t have to yell.
“Hey there, Thunder Pro Wrestling fans, so glad you could join me as I do the necessary contractual promo to pump the tires of my match this Friday in West Virginia against Magic Mike Jones. Now last week I,” she hesitates for a moment as it wasn’t really her, but her alter-ego that was speaking the previous week. She clears her throat and continues on. “Last week, I said what I was going to do, and that was to take down Vicky Stone. I didn’t enjoy having to put her down, but it was necessary. I can’t be taking losses while claiming that I will be the first International Champion, or at the very least become the first American Champion in TPW history.”
She sighs while leaning back on the palms of her hands, kicking some water up in the air.
“My TPW career hasn’t exactly been what I had hoped. I should be waiting for my semi-finals opponent right now, but I failed and Blinded By Windex is sitting in the spot that should’ve been mine. I have heard people say things like, I didn’t let anyone down, and you almost had it. You were close to winning. Well, close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.”
She shakes her head as she leans forward, bringing her hands to her lap, fingers intertwined.
“I didn’t enjoy hitting Vicky Stone with A Like Supreme, but I needed to show without a shadow of a doubt that I can get it done. I come from two different lines of wrestling. On one side of the coin, I am fourth generation Strader, and on the other side, I am third generation Knox. Can you even imagine the amounts of pressure that is on me not just to perform but to win as well?”
She shakes her head gently and raises her eyebrows as she exhales.
“It’s honestly ridiculous when you think about it. However, my parents have never once pressured me to win, or not sully their name. I am fortunate in that sense. They both understand what it’s like to live in their parents’ shadow, well, more so their fathers. So it really makes me appreciate having them. Do you know what I don’t appreciate? Being told I have to wrestle the guy, my cousin, Supreme Machine, laid to waste. Magic Mike Jones, this Friday, you are continuing your losing streak not just in Thunder Pro Wrestling but to the Rivers family as well. Maybe my dad or my other cousin, Queenie J, will show up for you to lose a match too.”
If you blinked, you missed the slight changing over. The Strader sneer comes across her face as she stands up, cracking her neck, and her glasz eyes seem like they are dancing with the devil.
“I was told once that I have nothing to be sad about. I have everything I could possibly want. Loads of money, a yacht… but it wasn’t always that way. My Adoptive parents worked two jobs before my father had a stroke while driving that ended up causing a pile-up that took him and mom away from me.”
She reaches into her pants pocket and produces what looks to be a miniature remote. She pulls the little antenna out and continues on with her family sneer that has been twisted with the Knox grin.
“I had who I thought was a wonderful woman until she had an affair with my biological grandfather. What all that has taught me is that one: life is short. Two: make some earn your trust, loyalty and respect. Three: Money isn’t everything. Fourth: Material items are exactly that; materials and those can be replaced,” she says, casually pressing the button on her small remote.
With that last word, a giant explosion can be heard as her face illuminates orange. Harold turns around with the camera that shows her yacht, The Goddess, was aflame out in the bay away from other boats. Harold turns back around to show Victoria who is standing there anymore, she is gone, but her microphone is attached.
“Sometimes, a girl just wants to watch the world burn.”
~ END TRANSMISSION ~
Atlanta, Georgia
November 13th, 2021
“Glad the meeting went well.”
“Very well! No one will ever see it coming, Victoria. Isn’t it better when I am behind the wheel?”
“That has yet to be determined.”
In the seat that another individual had occupied was now taken by Veronica, the alternate personality that has been inside Victoria Strader-Knox since conception but only recently showing itself whenever Victoria’s mental health needed protection. It was primarily due to what her Uncle Diogenes Knox had done to her that caused Veronica to appear in front of her eyes these days, but it also had a lot to do with The Goddess, and this narrative isn’t speaking of the aptly named Yacht. Victoria knew better than to say out loud as that would always bring the eyes of strangers and her peers in the world of professional wrestling, so she communicated with her alter-ego via her thoughts. Except it’s Veronica looking at the empty chair as she had taken control.
“Yet to be determined… I don’t think so, Victoria. Then why am I in control now? Why do I have control of your body?”
“Because you took control. You already know that, so quit rubbing it in!
“No, I am not rubbing it in. I am in control because of Atara and our sick, crazy uncle. Don’t remember what he had done to you?”
“No…”
“Exactly. You’re welcome.”
“I never asked for any of this!”
“And you think I am a fan? Listen, Victoria… I am here to protect you. We are here to protect you, him and I.”
“But it’s my body, Veronica.”
“No, it’s our body, and I need to stretch my legs. I haven’t been free since we were kids.”
“When we were kids? Wait a second; you have been in control before?”
“You don’t remember the bicycle accident?”
“Kind of… it’s pretty hazy…I remember Cara was there.”
Veronica sits back in her chair and pulls a large prawn from the martini glass lined with them: crushed ice and a delectable cocktail sauce in a portion cup placed in the middle. She takes a bite out of the prawn that she covered in the red sauce and moans with pleasure. She smiles at Victoria, who has her arms crossed and is not at all impressed. Veronica continues speaking before she swallows, chewing up her prawn a bit more.
“It was when grandma died. You were so close with her, I came out to shield you from it, but Cara, that duplicitous bitch- - -”
“Hey! Don’t talk about our sister like that.”
“Right, I keep forgetting our mother got around. She’s the one who threw the stick in our bicycle tire, causing us to end up in the hospital, and you had retaken control. Now I am out, and I am going to play.”
“Wait, what do you mean you are going to ‘play’?” it sounds like a whisper leaving her invisible lips but also a touch of fear. She knew exactly what her alter-ego meant, but Veronica wasn’t a monster to her and would put Victoria in a shell. If Victoria was asked what it was like to be confined instantly, yet be free to wander her mind but have no idea what Veronica was doing behind the wheel. She wouldn’t be able to do so coherently. Veronica was keeping Victoria out of harm's way, and even when that harm was the alter ego’s pleasure.
The handsome waiter of the establishment approaches the table, a billfold under his right arm. He has long hair on the top of his head, shaved on the sides and back, but the top is pulled in a ponytail, not a man bun. He looks like the type that always has a five o’clock shadow. His dark blue eyes twinkle when he smiles. Veronica leans back in her chair, pushing out the cleavage. She is happily revealing herself with a plan in mind.
15 minutes later…
Veronica, in a puff, pushes the waiter off her and sighs as she punches the stall door. She walks out of the stall leaving the waiter confused, and all bothered. She throws cash down on her table as she walks out of the restaurant. Less than a minute later, she is sitting in a black Cadillac STS, looking in the rearview mirror, and greeted by Victoria in the back seat. Veronica adjusts the mirror as Victoria’s head cocks to the side as the car starts up.
“Thank you for not going through with it,” she says to her other half. “I know you are frustrated.” No longer being in public, Veronica speaks out loud without fear of being caught.
“Do you, Victoria? Because since we turned seventeen, we have only been with women. How is that fair to me?”
It was quite a paradox for the duo; Veronica was sexually frustrated, all because of Victoria as she wasn't heterosexual. As much as Veronica wanted too, she could't do that to Victoria. It wouldn't be protecting her.
“It kinda figures, though, doesn’t it? What a cruel joke,” Victoria said to Veronica, as they drove away from the restaurant, heading towards the Sunshine State. “I am sorry, Veronica.”
“Ugh, I know you are. It’s fine. I saw this wand we are gonna order,” Veronica smiles and gives Victoria a wink. Victoria is blushing all kinds of red, or is she? Well, if she were in control, she would be. “If I give you control, do you promise to get us laid?”
“It will be a woman. Are you ok with that?”
“Yes, just make sure you don’t bury me,” Veronica tells her, giving her head a shake. “I can be a team player.”
Veronica shakes her head as she turns on the Bluetooth from the steering wheel. Queens of The Stoneage starts to play, ‘Make it Witchu”, as Victoria has moved herself to the front seat. Anyone watching would just see Veronica dancing and singing in the front seat as she found herself on the Interstate heading south, her destination unknown.
Houston Marina
Houston, Texas
November 16th, 2021
Victoria sits on the edge of a dock looking out onto the Gulf of Mexico, her feet in the water and her shoes sitting beside her. Her beige capris are a bit wet by the cuff from splashing the water with her feet. Everyone’s favourite opiate and escort-addicted camera person that the Strader family has employed for almost fifteen years sits in a dingy. His big old school camera is positioned on his shoulder, and he smiles and waves to Victoria.
“Ms. Strader-Knox, I am ready whenever you are,” he says to Victoria as she smiles and nods back. It must be Victoria in control as Veronica wasn’t all that nice to Harold. People underestimate the cameraman because of his affinity for opiates and ladies of the night, but he was actually quite intelligent, but he didn’t mind the doubters. It helped him get reasonable prices on not just his drugs and escorts, but it was most likely that Scott Nash Strader in the past and Meghan Kelser now threatening his plugs to give the guy better deals.
He was more efficient doped and sexed up. Everyone is different. Victoria adjusts her hunter-green turtle neck sweater and rolls the sleeves up as she nods to Harold to start the show.
1...2...3...4...5
~ START TRANSMISSION ~
Our scene opens up with a TPW advertisement for its first PPV in company history, Winter Wonderland, where the first International and American Champions will be crowned. We fade from that into Victoria Strader-Knox sitting on the dock, gently kicking the cool water with her feet. Her hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail, and that somewhat smile-slash-grin she got from her father, Matthew Knox. She gives a small wave with her right hand. Harold gave her a small microphone to clip to the neck of her sweater so she wouldn’t have to yell.
“Hey there, Thunder Pro Wrestling fans, so glad you could join me as I do the necessary contractual promo to pump the tires of my match this Friday in West Virginia against Magic Mike Jones. Now last week I,” she hesitates for a moment as it wasn’t really her, but her alter-ego that was speaking the previous week. She clears her throat and continues on. “Last week, I said what I was going to do, and that was to take down Vicky Stone. I didn’t enjoy having to put her down, but it was necessary. I can’t be taking losses while claiming that I will be the first International Champion, or at the very least become the first American Champion in TPW history.”
She sighs while leaning back on the palms of her hands, kicking some water up in the air.
“My TPW career hasn’t exactly been what I had hoped. I should be waiting for my semi-finals opponent right now, but I failed and Blinded By Windex is sitting in the spot that should’ve been mine. I have heard people say things like, I didn’t let anyone down, and you almost had it. You were close to winning. Well, close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.”
She shakes her head as she leans forward, bringing her hands to her lap, fingers intertwined.
“I didn’t enjoy hitting Vicky Stone with A Like Supreme, but I needed to show without a shadow of a doubt that I can get it done. I come from two different lines of wrestling. On one side of the coin, I am fourth generation Strader, and on the other side, I am third generation Knox. Can you even imagine the amounts of pressure that is on me not just to perform but to win as well?”
She shakes her head gently and raises her eyebrows as she exhales.
“It’s honestly ridiculous when you think about it. However, my parents have never once pressured me to win, or not sully their name. I am fortunate in that sense. They both understand what it’s like to live in their parents’ shadow, well, more so their fathers. So it really makes me appreciate having them. Do you know what I don’t appreciate? Being told I have to wrestle the guy, my cousin, Supreme Machine, laid to waste. Magic Mike Jones, this Friday, you are continuing your losing streak not just in Thunder Pro Wrestling but to the Rivers family as well. Maybe my dad or my other cousin, Queenie J, will show up for you to lose a match too.”
If you blinked, you missed the slight changing over. The Strader sneer comes across her face as she stands up, cracking her neck, and her glasz eyes seem like they are dancing with the devil.
“I was told once that I have nothing to be sad about. I have everything I could possibly want. Loads of money, a yacht… but it wasn’t always that way. My Adoptive parents worked two jobs before my father had a stroke while driving that ended up causing a pile-up that took him and mom away from me.”
She reaches into her pants pocket and produces what looks to be a miniature remote. She pulls the little antenna out and continues on with her family sneer that has been twisted with the Knox grin.
“I had who I thought was a wonderful woman until she had an affair with my biological grandfather. What all that has taught me is that one: life is short. Two: make some earn your trust, loyalty and respect. Three: Money isn’t everything. Fourth: Material items are exactly that; materials and those can be replaced,” she says, casually pressing the button on her small remote.
With that last word, a giant explosion can be heard as her face illuminates orange. Harold turns around with the camera that shows her yacht, The Goddess, was aflame out in the bay away from other boats. Harold turns back around to show Victoria who is standing there anymore, she is gone, but her microphone is attached.
“Sometimes, a girl just wants to watch the world burn.”
~ END TRANSMISSION ~
