<3 Christian <3

The scene opens up on a small room. Posters and pictures of WWG’s new World Champion, Christian are hung up covering every inch of the walls. In a corner is a life-size cardboard cut-out of Christian. In the center of the room is a bed, and on the bed is seated WWG newcomer Rayven. She is sitting with her legs crossed up underneath herself, reading the newest issue of WWG magazine. She is wearing a Christian T-shirt and cut-off jean shorts.

Rayven::
“That wasn’t really the way I was hoping things would go, but the job got done. My big man crush, Christian, is the new WWG Champion, and that’s all that really matters, isn’t it? I just wish he would’ve talked to me earlier in the night. What was that all about anyways? Why wouldn’t he talk to me? Is it because I’m ugly?”

Rayven flipped the magazine closed and hopped off the bed. She cross the room and peered into a mirror, turning her head to either side to get a good look.

Rayven::
“No, couldn’t be that. I’m f*cking beautiful. I mean, just look at me! I just wish he had given me a moment. All I wanted to do was ask him if it was alright if I came out to ringside during his match to be in his corner. I wanted to be able to help him counter Wretchie having Grace at ringside, and Grace, don’t worry, I’ll get back to you real soon. Maybe if I had been there, then when Grace got up on the apron, I could’ve pulled her down. Maybe then, she wouldn’t have got hit, and Wretchie wouldn’t have snapped. Maybe THEN! Wretchie wouldn’t have beat Christian’s face in so bad. He wouldn’t have wound up in the hospital fighting for his life and recovering from the injuries. He would be able to make appearances on late night television, showing the world what a fine new World Champion he makes. Maybe then? Maybe then, he’d give me five seconds of his precious time and talk to me?”

Almost on the verge of tears, Rayven returned to the bed and sat just as she had before. She reopened the magazine and turned to a page she had dog-eared. The page was a full-page picture of Christian. She ran her hand over the page and smiled.

Rayven::
“But in the end, I guess none of that really matters all that much. My man Christian beat Wretchie and won the title, and that’s all that really matters. Now he’s the World Champion AND the Carnage Champion. The only belt eluding him right now is the Absolute Champion. OH! There’s an idea! Maybe…maybe if I impress the people at the top, I could get a shot at that belt. I don’t care that The Ascension holds it right now. I don’t care what sort of crazy rules they’re planning on using in regards to how they defend it. I’ll fight them all three-on-one at once! The three of you combined don’t scare me an ounce! And then, after I beat you, and I win the Absolute Championship, then...then!”

She couldn’t continue talking for the fit of almost-demented laughter she broke out into.

Rayven::
“Then…. Then me and Christian would have all of the titles, and we’d be a REAL power couple. No one here in the WWG could stop us. Least of all, you Grace, and your pet Wretchie. And this is where we all come around full circle at this upcoming Carnage. The higher powers must have heard my cries of agony while Wretchie was pounding away on Christian. Because they gave me a gift bigger than any bike or pony or anything I ever asked for and got for Christmas or a birthday. If tomorrow were Christmas, then I would be asking dear ol’ Santa Claus to give me a match against Grace Brutal, so that I could take my frustrations out on her for what her Wretchie did to my Christian.”

She leaned over and picked up a box from beside the bed. It was just a small box, plain and white. It was tied shut with a red ribbon tied into a bow on top. She unraveled the ribbon, and as she pulled the lid off, a small explosion of confetti burst out of the box. She jumped and yelped in surprise, as though she had no clue that was going to happen.

Rayven::
“Well it must be Christmas, and Licious must be Santa Claus, because he’s handing out wishes faster than John Cena at a St. Judes Hospital. You see, Grace, at Carnage, I’ve got a match with you. At Carnage, I get to make you pay for what you had your monster do to my Christian. I didn’t have to wait very long to get my hands on you. And I’m not just going to get my hands on you. I’m going to get my arms on you, my legs, my back, my mouth….I’m going to get every inch of my body on you, Grace. But don’t take that in a sexual way, you’re not my type. Not at all.”

She tossed the box off behind her. She didn’t realize where she had aimed it and it bounced off of the cardboard cut-out of Christian standing in the corner of the room. She gasped and leapt off the bed, running over to the cut-out and hugged it, caressing it with a hand.

Rayven::
“Oh! Christian! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you! Are you ok? You’re not hurt, are you?”

She looked the cut-out over once more before she was sure it was ok. She then returned to the bed and brushed the confetti away before sitting once more.

Rayven::
“I’d never hurt my Christian. That’s the first thing that sets us apart, Grace. We might have a bit in common. Neither one of us is all there, we’ve both been called monsters or freaks, and we’re both a couple of sexy girls. But that’s where the comparisons end. You’re a heartless b!tch and won’t keep your pet on his leash, and just look at what he did to my Christian! That’s unforgivable, and it’s only by virtue of my heart breaking as I sat back stage watching that I didn’t run out there myself to put an end to that myself. And trust me, I could. There’s another difference between me and you, Grace. You’re not even a real wrestler, are you? But it looks like you don’t get much of a choice in this matter. Whether or not the big wigs around here have something planned out for you by way of punishment if you refuse to step into the ring with me, I don’t care. I know you’ll be at the arena. And you won’t have your Wretchie to hide behind. Trust me, Grace, I WILL find you! Karma has a huge dose of getting your ass kicked coming your way for what you and your Wretchie did to my Christian, and I will gladly be karma’s agent. If you thought that Wretchie went too far last week, then you really have no clue of what ‘too far’ really means when it comes to what I’m prepared to do to you, Grace.”

She got up from the bed and knelt in front of it, folding her hands together as though she were saying her bedtime prayers.

Rayven::
“It’s like I said, Grace. This week, you won’t have your Wretchie to hide behind. So when you lay yourself down to sleep, I hope you say your prayers to whatever god you believe in. Beg them, implore them, to save your pathetic soul when I get my hands on you. Say whatever you need to say, make whatever promises you need to make, offer to sacrifice anything and everything for them to spare your life. And then when you’re done, walk to your mirror….”

As she said this, she stood and crossed the room to where the mirror sat.

Rayven::
“I want you to look into that mirror, and take a good hard look at yourself. Commit it to memory, because after Carnage, you will never look like that again. And while you’re looking at your reflection in the mirror, think back to all of the pleas and promises you made to your god. And then, just then...notice that behind you in the mirror, you see my smiling face. Because I’m there to remind you that your gods are dead, and I’m the one that killed them. And at Carnage?”

She laughed wildly as she punched the mirror, shattering it into hundreds of pieces.

Rayven::
“No amount of dead gods or luck can help save you from what you’ve brought on yourself.”