Post by Admin on Sept 20, 2021 6:12:09 GMT
Home of Victoria and Cara
Redwood City, California USA
September 12th, 2021
Meghan sat on the couch staring at her name in Scott’s handwriting on the envelope for what felt like an eternity. She takes her right index finger with the long painted red nails decorating her hand and slices the envelope open along the side. With a puff, she blows it open and slides the letter inside out of its paper prison.
She exhales slowly as she reaches for her purse and pulls out a pack of Marlboro Reds (just like her old man smoked), and pulls a cancer stick out, sliding it between her crimson red lips. With the flick of her Bic, her cigarette was lit as she finally opened the letter.
Meghan,
If you are reading this, then it most likely means I am no longer riding my Harley, and I have set up a new charter in the 7th Layer of Hell because I am smart enough to know that’s most likely where I will end up, and I can’t argue the reasoning.
I have done many terrible things in my life, things I never lost sleep over either except for the pain I caused my firstborn. It wasn’t fair that a 13-year-old girl found out her mother, who died at birth, had an affair with the man you called “Uncy Scott.” It sent the man that raised you off the deep end and changed your whole life.
When you rebelled against me, I knew what you were up to, but how could I say anything? I really had no right to tell you what I thought was right or wrong when I had finished so many people off that I lost count that looked down the business end of my Desert Eagle.
You met the girls’ father because of me and my ties to the underworld, but I swear on everything (I know that doesn’t mean what it should, but please believe an old man trying to make things right) I ever cared about when I found out what they were doing young girls I ended all relationships. One has to figure they wouldn’t want to start an international incident with the second-largest Motorcycle Club in the world. I couldn’t take the chance… you already were doing adoption, but I knew you well. If you had known they were twins, you would’ve kept them, and I couldn’t guarantee they wouldn’t come after you or my grandchildren, so I sold Cara.
The Kazoka is no small-time syndicate. They are truly evil and not looked highly upon by my fellow underworld connections, but they were feared instead.
I wish I never took you to that party. Maybe then I wouldn’t have had to make the most challenging choice of my life: protect my daughter and hers, which will sacrifice any potential relationship with you or put you three in the crosshairs.
I am sorry, but it was my only play, Meghan. Now, as a full-on parent with Clay and Elizabeth, I hope you can come to terms and understand why I did what I did.
Meghan continues to read the last bit as the ash on her cigarette was its length when she lit it, and it drops as she leans forward in shock.
“No, it can’t be…” she says out loud to herself. She leans back, looking up at the heavens above through the ceiling. “Oh my god, it is… but Cara looks so much like Ryan…”
Meghan folds the letter and places it in her purse. She stands up, butts out her cigarette, and slings her purse over her left shoulder and heads out on a mission she never saw coming. She needed answers, and the girls deserved to know exactly where they came from.
OCW Arena
Key West, Florida
September 19th, 2021
Our scene opens up inside an empty OCW Arena, but lines throughout the seats are cardboard cutouts of all the people known to be in the Remembrance show except for Victoria and Cara Strader, as those two ladies are live and in the flesh, standing dead centre of the ring. Cara is decked out much like their mom would be: black boots, black leather pants, and a white crop
top with the old CFH logo across the chest. Her curly dark hair is falling over her shoulders and her glazed-over eyes watching her sister. Victoria seems to be going over strategy and a game plan for Tuesday’s PPV in Revolution1 Wrestling. The mother and aunt of our young fraternal twins decided not to participate in the rumble so that the girls could. Victoria is focused and has a purposeful look on her face. She is dressed in light green jeans, Green Converse shows, and a white turtleneck with her hair pulled back in her signature ponytail. Her glazs coloured eyes scan around the cutouts.
“I think us coming in to try and win is the biggest mistake we could make, Care-Bear,” Victoria says, looking at the cardboard cutouts. “We just go in, look to make a splash and play spoiler to the other entrants.”
Cara reaches into her bra, pulling out a large spliff. She lights it up, takes a deep toke, and crosses her arms across her chest as she exhales.
“So, we don’t want to win?”
“Well, no, of course, we want to win, Cara but our grandpa had decent success in these style matches in the old PWA going into the match looking at each competitor one at a time,” she replies, hoping Cara will pick up what she has put down. “I mean, yeah it would be pretty badass to earn a title shot in a company we aren’t technically a part of. I mean, that seems to be the popular thing to do these days.”
Of course, Victoria was referring to the war brewing between OCW and the XWF. Victoria points out to the cardboard cutouts she had set up of all the competitors ranging from Amber Payne to Sara Cross and even Victoria’s second-best friend (her sister being her first) in Matthew The Raven Knox.
“All of these competitors are dangerous in their own right. Legends, hall of Famers, up and coming rookies like us, and current big-name stars in the business. Each and every single one of them can teach us something, and we can teach them a thing or two.”
“Oh? What can we teach them?” Cara asks as Victoria can see the glaze taking over her sister's eyes. It reminds her of Krispy Kreme, which is what will be Cara’s munchie attack snack later on.
The Strader sneer shows on Victoria’s lips as she answers the question asked of her.
“We will show them that ‘Resist and Disorder’ of the Cowgirls From Hell are here to begin our quest to become the next legendary tag-team duo of our family,” she said with a confidence that was dripping off every word. Cara smiled towards her fraternal twin, loving the confidence that was finally starting to take control. “You have your camera?”
Cara shakes her head ‘no’ but pulls her iPhone 12 Pro out of the back pocket in her leather pants. She is able to prop it up on the top right turnbuckle facing away to the rampway. The timer counts down…
3
2
1!
~ Start Transmission ~
The viewers are greeted with the sister duo, Victoria on the left and Cara, on the right side of whatever screen the fans of Revo1 are watching from inside the arena of one of the official affiliates in Online Championship Wrestling.
“Hello, my lovelies, Cara and I are here in the Keys preparing not only for official match debut here inside the same arena tomorrow night at Monday Massacre but also taking advantage of an empty arena (that Leo must’ve left unlocked) to prepare for the Remembrance II rumble match for Revo1’s second-largest show of the year. The winner? A shot at the company’s top prize.”
“Wait, the winner gets a lifetime supply of marijawatchy?!”
Victoria chuckles and shakes her head no, and Cara is now disappointed.
“These kinds of matches are always a bit of a crapshoot. Underdogs have the chance to overwhelm, and the top stars have a chance to be utterly disappointing, and don’t live up to their height,” she says with a slight shrug of her shoulders. Cara continues to smoke the joint she lit before they start filming and exhales through her nostrils.
“So that’s why we are going to be doing this from a different angle. Me and Vee don’t care if we win or not. We are only in this to represent the reemergence of our family dynasty that was built by our great uncles and grandpa and continued by our mamabear and Auntie Teebag, Revolution1 Wrestling Tag Team Champions,” Cara says with a smirk and a proud smile.
Victoria nods in agreement.
“Not just that but to give everyone on (and not on) the Revo1 roster a taste of the future of this family: we are Resist and Disorder. We are the ones to reveal the machine behind the veil. We are the demons; we have our hands firmly placed on the wheel,” she says through the sneer that has painted itself across her lips as it does as well for Cara.
“Whether it’s Auntie Teebag’s one-time partner in Sara Cross, or Daniel Dream (the guy who can’t figure out the difference between a right-handprint to a left-handprint) to even Vee’s old man buddy in Matthew Knox. We don’t care who you are because we know the other talent doesn’t give a rat's ass about us,” she says with a tinge of orneriness that is definitely inherited from their mother, Meghan Kelser.
“Cara is right. We know how the people in this business feel about us. Besides Knoxxy, Atty and Julius Fairweather, we are treated with next to no respect,” a sigh escapes her pink lipstick lips. “My career didn’t start off on the right foot, and I didn’t turn my less than .500 record around until my short time in WrestleWorld but my sister here? Well, that’s a different story.”
Cara finishes her joint, pinching the heater between her index finger and thumb before sliding the roach into her back pocket.
“That’s right; I haven’t lost a match yet. I have won four trio style matches, three tag team, and a few singles matches. Apparently, that’s the biggest difference between us and our mama and auntie. They stumbled out of the gate before finding their footing.”
“I did as well, but not Cara and everyone involved in this match and any future match would do very well to remember that. We don’t expect just to have respect shown to us, we know we need to earn that respect, and over the last six months, we have shown that we will have to beat the respect out of our peers,” she says. “Come Tuesday Night at Madison Square Garden in New York City, the one thing we can unequivocally guarantee is that we will be taking names and showing this industry why Resist and Disorder is not only the future of tag team wrestling but the business in general.”
Victoria and Cara put one arm around the small of their backs, showing us a unity that is not often very prevalent in the industry of wrestling.
“We will spend this night memorizing every line in your faces, every little bit of smoke you have blown up your own asses, and prepare to play the spoiler to the lot of you. As we wind down 2021, showing why we are on the right path to making 2022 the year of Victoria and Cara freakin’ Strader,'' Victoria says into the camera lens, her familiar glasz coloured eyes looking past the materialistic appearance of their competitors and fans to the depths of their souls.
Victoria and Cara look at each other and sneer before returning their gaze towards us, watching via the Splat Network.
“If anything at all that is important to remember is really simple and straightforward: God Forgives.”
“We don’t.”
Our scene slowly fades to the Remembrance II graphic.
~ End Transmission ~
Home of Victoria and Cara Strader
Redwood City, California
September 19th, 2021
Back in Redwood City, Meghan Kelser sits in her little brother's old office inside the old two-storey firehouse in his leather chair, staring at two ziplock bags, each containing strands of hair (strawberry blonde and near raven black) and a toothbrush in each. Her phone starts to ring, and she picks it up to see who is calling.
Incoming call: John Nash Strader
“Well, it’s about time I heard from you,” Meghan says as she answers the phone. “You are a hard man to get a hold of, John.”
She can hear a chuckle on the other end from him.
“Yeah, I know. I am sorry about that, sis. What’s going on? Your message sounded desperate,” he responds.
“Oh John, where do I start? Victoria was given a letter from Max that dad had written for me.”
John is silent for a few seconds before replying to his worried-sounding sister.
“The old man is speaking from beyond the grave. Not at all creepy,” he says, trying to lighten the mood. “What did it say?”
Meghan doesn’t respond right away, trying to compose her words together.
“Dad basically said that Ryan isn’t the girls’ father, but someone else is. We have all met him, and Victoria has grown particularly fond of him, but Cara has Ryan’s eyes and his love of pot.”
“Ok, well, that sounds really weird, Megz.”
“Yeah, I know. Have you ever heard of heteropaternal superfecundation happening with fraternal twins?” she asks, knowing he very well might as he was highly educated man.
“Actually, I have. It is extremely rare, and there have been only 19 reported cases of it worldwide, but with fraternal twins, it may have happened more than it’s been reported. Do you think that’s what happened to you?”
She is quiet a moment as her past flashes briefly before her own eyes.
“The night before I went to Venice Beach with dad when I was fourteen I had slept with Ryan. Then the night of the party, I slept with the man dad thought mybabes’s father is, was, whatever,” she says, thinking back on her rebellious youth.
“You were going through a lot, Megz. Do you want me to set up some blood work testing through the club doctor up here in Winnipeg?”
“Yeah if you could. I have hair samples from their brushes and I snagged both of their toothbrushes before they flew out to Florida for Monday Massacre in OCW,” she reveals to John, who chuckles slightly.
“That’s my big sister, always a couple steps ahead. I’ll call Furtado to set it up. When should I be expecting you?” he asks, already knowing the answer.
“Yes, I will be there in the morning. I have the private family jet being fuelled up now,” she replies quickly.
“Alright, I’ll get it set up. Don’t worry, Meg; we will get to the bottom of this. If this ends up being true, we will deal with the fallout of it as a family. I love you, Meghan,” he replies softly.
“Love you too, little brother,” she replies warmly. “See you in the morning.”
The phone call ends and Meghan reaches for her Marlboro Reds. She ignites her cancer stick, and exhales a long stream of blue cancerous smoke.
“Damn it, old man… why didn’t you tell me any of this before you were killed?”
The Strader Matriarch sighs as she gathers up the samples she took from her daughters, and leaves the office turning off the lights on the way out.
Redwood City, California USA
September 12th, 2021
Meghan sat on the couch staring at her name in Scott’s handwriting on the envelope for what felt like an eternity. She takes her right index finger with the long painted red nails decorating her hand and slices the envelope open along the side. With a puff, she blows it open and slides the letter inside out of its paper prison.
She exhales slowly as she reaches for her purse and pulls out a pack of Marlboro Reds (just like her old man smoked), and pulls a cancer stick out, sliding it between her crimson red lips. With the flick of her Bic, her cigarette was lit as she finally opened the letter.
Meghan,
If you are reading this, then it most likely means I am no longer riding my Harley, and I have set up a new charter in the 7th Layer of Hell because I am smart enough to know that’s most likely where I will end up, and I can’t argue the reasoning.
I have done many terrible things in my life, things I never lost sleep over either except for the pain I caused my firstborn. It wasn’t fair that a 13-year-old girl found out her mother, who died at birth, had an affair with the man you called “Uncy Scott.” It sent the man that raised you off the deep end and changed your whole life.
When you rebelled against me, I knew what you were up to, but how could I say anything? I really had no right to tell you what I thought was right or wrong when I had finished so many people off that I lost count that looked down the business end of my Desert Eagle.
You met the girls’ father because of me and my ties to the underworld, but I swear on everything (I know that doesn’t mean what it should, but please believe an old man trying to make things right) I ever cared about when I found out what they were doing young girls I ended all relationships. One has to figure they wouldn’t want to start an international incident with the second-largest Motorcycle Club in the world. I couldn’t take the chance… you already were doing adoption, but I knew you well. If you had known they were twins, you would’ve kept them, and I couldn’t guarantee they wouldn’t come after you or my grandchildren, so I sold Cara.
The Kazoka is no small-time syndicate. They are truly evil and not looked highly upon by my fellow underworld connections, but they were feared instead.
I wish I never took you to that party. Maybe then I wouldn’t have had to make the most challenging choice of my life: protect my daughter and hers, which will sacrifice any potential relationship with you or put you three in the crosshairs.
I am sorry, but it was my only play, Meghan. Now, as a full-on parent with Clay and Elizabeth, I hope you can come to terms and understand why I did what I did.
Meghan continues to read the last bit as the ash on her cigarette was its length when she lit it, and it drops as she leans forward in shock.
“No, it can’t be…” she says out loud to herself. She leans back, looking up at the heavens above through the ceiling. “Oh my god, it is… but Cara looks so much like Ryan…”
Meghan folds the letter and places it in her purse. She stands up, butts out her cigarette, and slings her purse over her left shoulder and heads out on a mission she never saw coming. She needed answers, and the girls deserved to know exactly where they came from.
OCW Arena
Key West, Florida
September 19th, 2021
Our scene opens up inside an empty OCW Arena, but lines throughout the seats are cardboard cutouts of all the people known to be in the Remembrance show except for Victoria and Cara Strader, as those two ladies are live and in the flesh, standing dead centre of the ring. Cara is decked out much like their mom would be: black boots, black leather pants, and a white crop
top with the old CFH logo across the chest. Her curly dark hair is falling over her shoulders and her glazed-over eyes watching her sister. Victoria seems to be going over strategy and a game plan for Tuesday’s PPV in Revolution1 Wrestling. The mother and aunt of our young fraternal twins decided not to participate in the rumble so that the girls could. Victoria is focused and has a purposeful look on her face. She is dressed in light green jeans, Green Converse shows, and a white turtleneck with her hair pulled back in her signature ponytail. Her glazs coloured eyes scan around the cutouts.
“I think us coming in to try and win is the biggest mistake we could make, Care-Bear,” Victoria says, looking at the cardboard cutouts. “We just go in, look to make a splash and play spoiler to the other entrants.”
Cara reaches into her bra, pulling out a large spliff. She lights it up, takes a deep toke, and crosses her arms across her chest as she exhales.
“So, we don’t want to win?”
“Well, no, of course, we want to win, Cara but our grandpa had decent success in these style matches in the old PWA going into the match looking at each competitor one at a time,” she replies, hoping Cara will pick up what she has put down. “I mean, yeah it would be pretty badass to earn a title shot in a company we aren’t technically a part of. I mean, that seems to be the popular thing to do these days.”
Of course, Victoria was referring to the war brewing between OCW and the XWF. Victoria points out to the cardboard cutouts she had set up of all the competitors ranging from Amber Payne to Sara Cross and even Victoria’s second-best friend (her sister being her first) in Matthew The Raven Knox.
“All of these competitors are dangerous in their own right. Legends, hall of Famers, up and coming rookies like us, and current big-name stars in the business. Each and every single one of them can teach us something, and we can teach them a thing or two.”
“Oh? What can we teach them?” Cara asks as Victoria can see the glaze taking over her sister's eyes. It reminds her of Krispy Kreme, which is what will be Cara’s munchie attack snack later on.
The Strader sneer shows on Victoria’s lips as she answers the question asked of her.
“We will show them that ‘Resist and Disorder’ of the Cowgirls From Hell are here to begin our quest to become the next legendary tag-team duo of our family,” she said with a confidence that was dripping off every word. Cara smiled towards her fraternal twin, loving the confidence that was finally starting to take control. “You have your camera?”
Cara shakes her head ‘no’ but pulls her iPhone 12 Pro out of the back pocket in her leather pants. She is able to prop it up on the top right turnbuckle facing away to the rampway. The timer counts down…
3
2
1!
~ Start Transmission ~
The viewers are greeted with the sister duo, Victoria on the left and Cara, on the right side of whatever screen the fans of Revo1 are watching from inside the arena of one of the official affiliates in Online Championship Wrestling.
“Hello, my lovelies, Cara and I are here in the Keys preparing not only for official match debut here inside the same arena tomorrow night at Monday Massacre but also taking advantage of an empty arena (that Leo must’ve left unlocked) to prepare for the Remembrance II rumble match for Revo1’s second-largest show of the year. The winner? A shot at the company’s top prize.”
“Wait, the winner gets a lifetime supply of marijawatchy?!”
Victoria chuckles and shakes her head no, and Cara is now disappointed.
“These kinds of matches are always a bit of a crapshoot. Underdogs have the chance to overwhelm, and the top stars have a chance to be utterly disappointing, and don’t live up to their height,” she says with a slight shrug of her shoulders. Cara continues to smoke the joint she lit before they start filming and exhales through her nostrils.
“So that’s why we are going to be doing this from a different angle. Me and Vee don’t care if we win or not. We are only in this to represent the reemergence of our family dynasty that was built by our great uncles and grandpa and continued by our mamabear and Auntie Teebag, Revolution1 Wrestling Tag Team Champions,” Cara says with a smirk and a proud smile.
Victoria nods in agreement.
“Not just that but to give everyone on (and not on) the Revo1 roster a taste of the future of this family: we are Resist and Disorder. We are the ones to reveal the machine behind the veil. We are the demons; we have our hands firmly placed on the wheel,” she says through the sneer that has painted itself across her lips as it does as well for Cara.
“Whether it’s Auntie Teebag’s one-time partner in Sara Cross, or Daniel Dream (the guy who can’t figure out the difference between a right-handprint to a left-handprint) to even Vee’s old man buddy in Matthew Knox. We don’t care who you are because we know the other talent doesn’t give a rat's ass about us,” she says with a tinge of orneriness that is definitely inherited from their mother, Meghan Kelser.
“Cara is right. We know how the people in this business feel about us. Besides Knoxxy, Atty and Julius Fairweather, we are treated with next to no respect,” a sigh escapes her pink lipstick lips. “My career didn’t start off on the right foot, and I didn’t turn my less than .500 record around until my short time in WrestleWorld but my sister here? Well, that’s a different story.”
Cara finishes her joint, pinching the heater between her index finger and thumb before sliding the roach into her back pocket.
“That’s right; I haven’t lost a match yet. I have won four trio style matches, three tag team, and a few singles matches. Apparently, that’s the biggest difference between us and our mama and auntie. They stumbled out of the gate before finding their footing.”
“I did as well, but not Cara and everyone involved in this match and any future match would do very well to remember that. We don’t expect just to have respect shown to us, we know we need to earn that respect, and over the last six months, we have shown that we will have to beat the respect out of our peers,” she says. “Come Tuesday Night at Madison Square Garden in New York City, the one thing we can unequivocally guarantee is that we will be taking names and showing this industry why Resist and Disorder is not only the future of tag team wrestling but the business in general.”
Victoria and Cara put one arm around the small of their backs, showing us a unity that is not often very prevalent in the industry of wrestling.
“We will spend this night memorizing every line in your faces, every little bit of smoke you have blown up your own asses, and prepare to play the spoiler to the lot of you. As we wind down 2021, showing why we are on the right path to making 2022 the year of Victoria and Cara freakin’ Strader,'' Victoria says into the camera lens, her familiar glasz coloured eyes looking past the materialistic appearance of their competitors and fans to the depths of their souls.
Victoria and Cara look at each other and sneer before returning their gaze towards us, watching via the Splat Network.
“If anything at all that is important to remember is really simple and straightforward: God Forgives.”
“We don’t.”
Our scene slowly fades to the Remembrance II graphic.
~ End Transmission ~
Home of Victoria and Cara Strader
Redwood City, California
September 19th, 2021
Back in Redwood City, Meghan Kelser sits in her little brother's old office inside the old two-storey firehouse in his leather chair, staring at two ziplock bags, each containing strands of hair (strawberry blonde and near raven black) and a toothbrush in each. Her phone starts to ring, and she picks it up to see who is calling.
Incoming call: John Nash Strader
“Well, it’s about time I heard from you,” Meghan says as she answers the phone. “You are a hard man to get a hold of, John.”
She can hear a chuckle on the other end from him.
“Yeah, I know. I am sorry about that, sis. What’s going on? Your message sounded desperate,” he responds.
“Oh John, where do I start? Victoria was given a letter from Max that dad had written for me.”
John is silent for a few seconds before replying to his worried-sounding sister.
“The old man is speaking from beyond the grave. Not at all creepy,” he says, trying to lighten the mood. “What did it say?”
Meghan doesn’t respond right away, trying to compose her words together.
“Dad basically said that Ryan isn’t the girls’ father, but someone else is. We have all met him, and Victoria has grown particularly fond of him, but Cara has Ryan’s eyes and his love of pot.”
“Ok, well, that sounds really weird, Megz.”
“Yeah, I know. Have you ever heard of heteropaternal superfecundation happening with fraternal twins?” she asks, knowing he very well might as he was highly educated man.
“Actually, I have. It is extremely rare, and there have been only 19 reported cases of it worldwide, but with fraternal twins, it may have happened more than it’s been reported. Do you think that’s what happened to you?”
She is quiet a moment as her past flashes briefly before her own eyes.
“The night before I went to Venice Beach with dad when I was fourteen I had slept with Ryan. Then the night of the party, I slept with the man dad thought mybabes’s father is, was, whatever,” she says, thinking back on her rebellious youth.
“You were going through a lot, Megz. Do you want me to set up some blood work testing through the club doctor up here in Winnipeg?”
“Yeah if you could. I have hair samples from their brushes and I snagged both of their toothbrushes before they flew out to Florida for Monday Massacre in OCW,” she reveals to John, who chuckles slightly.
“That’s my big sister, always a couple steps ahead. I’ll call Furtado to set it up. When should I be expecting you?” he asks, already knowing the answer.
“Yes, I will be there in the morning. I have the private family jet being fuelled up now,” she replies quickly.
“Alright, I’ll get it set up. Don’t worry, Meg; we will get to the bottom of this. If this ends up being true, we will deal with the fallout of it as a family. I love you, Meghan,” he replies softly.
“Love you too, little brother,” she replies warmly. “See you in the morning.”
The phone call ends and Meghan reaches for her Marlboro Reds. She ignites her cancer stick, and exhales a long stream of blue cancerous smoke.
“Damn it, old man… why didn’t you tell me any of this before you were killed?”
The Strader Matriarch sighs as she gathers up the samples she took from her daughters, and leaves the office turning off the lights on the way out.
