(Erica): I guess everyone out there has a lot to say about Havoc huh? Or at least a lot to say about me. Let’s take it from top to bottom, Alexis…you’re tough chica, I’ll give you that, but not as tough as you think, and not as tough as me which is why I kicked your ass. Gringa, your blonde hair and fit physique might take you places outside the ring, but inside you’re in my world and the only place you’ll ever go is down to the mat. I want you to remember that the next time you open your mouth and think you can step to me.
Erica grabs her glass and downs another shot, taps her cigarette in the ashtray and takes another drag, a cloud of smoke spreading across the bar as she blows.
(Erica): Just look at Vanessa, perra abrió la boca and you see what happened to her. You people out there watching have no idea how hard I work, but let me put it to you this way….how hard do you work? You single mom’s out there, you starving students, even fuked up dads busting ass to pay that child support…how hard do you work? Imagine doing your job and some puta pequeña sitting on the sidelines criticizes your work. How would that make you feel? I bet you’d want to put that puta in her place, bust her in her fuking mouth, and shut her up. So that’s what I did. You mess with us Vanessa, you’re going to get burned, and it’s just a matter of time before I take your man too. I’d straddle him in the ring and make you watch, make you call that play-by-play puta.
She had ordered a plate of nachos and it was exactly what she was expecting. Nearly stale chips with a drizzle of cheap processed cheese sauce, some shitty dried beef, a few toppings and a glob of cold sour cream dumped on the top. She nodded to the barman as he put the plate down in front of her with a smile and walked away.
(Erica): Why do these fuking people always have a smile on their face like they’re proudly bringing you the best thing you’ll ever have eaten? It’s just some bullshit nachos! This shit is more American than it is Mexican anyway.
She takes some nachos and put it in her mouth crunching away as she looks at the camera, talking with food still her mouth.
(Erica): And before you bitches start saying anything and calling me a hypocrite because I just talked about people working hard and doing their jobs and getting criticized…this doesn’t count. That motherfuker didn’t make this shit, he just set that plate down…that’s not working. Anyway pendejos, as I was saying…Alexis, Vanessa now you both know…don’t fuk with me.
Hans…Papi…I think we need to talk, privately. I could swing by the academy and we could work things out, solo tu y yo! I know you’re married to that bruja, but it’s obvious how you feel about me. I almost couldn’t contain myself the look on your face, her seeing us together. You want me and I want you, lets just be adults about this and what happens, happens. You have my number, call me when you want to talk, but don’t keep me waiting for long.
Erica eats some more nachos, finally starting to feel the tequila shots kick in as she douses the last of her cigarette.
(Erica): I see that we’ve got some new faces in the pool too. Liliana and Briar was it? Chicas, I like your style. You did what I wish I could have done when I first walked in here and just put bitches down. You see at the time, I technically didn’t work here, was trying to get to know people and fit in, get my Visa….never mind, that shits not important. What’s important is that you came in here and cut to the chase. Take it from me, putas around here are only good at running their mouths behind your back and trying to keep you down. If you ever need a hand busting a bitches mouth you come to me, I have a feeling we’ll get along just fine.
More nachos go in, more tequila shots to follow and Erica turns around on her barstool and sees guys playing pool and the place filled with what seems to be a bunch of regulars then turns back to the camera. There’s a Miss Pacman machine in the corner and we see a guy and his girlfriend cuddled up playing together, giggling and having a good time, then she turns back to the bar.
(Erica): Awwwwww…that’s so sweet. They remind me of you guys, Sean and Michelle. Two young lovers oblivious to their surroundings because they’re too stuck on each other to notice anything else. They probably leave this bar, get into a car accident, and die. That’s how reality comes crashing into you isn’t? Just like the two of you. Michelle, I feel for your chica, I really do. No, I’m serious…from the bottom of my heart girl, I do. I’ve been where you are right now. A lot of seedy shit went down when I lived in Mexico, working in that stank ass underground, and more than a few times. You should be glad all he did was feel you up, he could have done a lot worse. You brought this on yourself though. I mean, chica…you scream “Come and get me!” You’re like the sweet Little Red Riding hood of HWA, just too fuking perfect for anyone not to be compelled to get some dirt on you.
I heard what he said, and Fallen was right though you know? The rest of him might have recovered but I think Sean’s dick is still paralyzed. I flirted with him a few times in training, I even brushed my hand up against his junk while we were on the mat and he was so fuking clueless, he just kept on training. I knew then he was a lost cost, thank God Hans came along. So what, Fallen felt you up a bit, you’ll get over it though, I’ve been through a lot worse and it made me stronger. You should probably thank him, it probably makes you a bit tougher too. He’s not much to look at but, at least he could turn you into a real woman. Maybe you should give him a shot, God knows Sean can’t do it. All he could do is sit there with you and cry like a little bitch. But, whatever, that’s your drama…not mine!
Erica just about finished off a full bottle of Patrón and is feeling pretty damn good. Eats a little more of her nachos which are starting to get cold.
(Erica): Speaking of drama...how about Jeremy and Matt? Can you guys believe it? Jeremy, you might be mad at me, but I did you a favor. If anything you should be thanking me just like Michelle should be thanking Fallen. My brother Pedro was gay, I got nothing against the community. You kind of remind me of him at times. He hid it from our folks until the day he died, and I’m guessing your family didn’t know either. Chico, I mean come on…por favor…its 2023, nobody gives a shit who you’re fuking, or in your case…who you want to fuk. I told Maestro that I had your secrets, all of you. Sitting on the bench gives you a different perspective, and I’ve seen and heard it all like I said before.
Trust me, there's more to come but I see how you look at him and look away. I especially saw how you interacted with him in training. You and Sean could toss each other around for hours, but when it came to Matt you hesitated to touch him at times. You remember that time, you two were in the ring and you suddenly acted like you tweaked your back, got out of the ring and went off to the “trainer” so you said. You had a raging fuking boner didn’t you? Come on, admit it….I bet you did. You weren’t hurt pendejo. I don’t know what way Matt’s door swings, but for you….just own it, what’s the worst that could happen? You realize that he’s a dumb ass jock that only focuses on himself, working out, eating, sleeping, too preoccupied to give anyone the time of day. He probably doesn’t even jerk it in the shower. I don’t know what you see in him anyway. “Flagbearer” they called him. Did you hear that shit?
Erica laughs as she lights another cigarette.
(Erica): The only flag Matt is carrying is the one for the Special Olympics because he’s a damn retard trying to be an athlete, and thinks he can be as good as people like Maniac. People in the Special Olympics will never be at the level of real athletes, they get the dumbed down version of sports to make themselves feel included and that’s what Matt is. He got the lucky draw because he was all that was left when HWA closed in 2015. Does anyone think if Maestro had remained, or what was his name…Michael James, or McNeil, or any of those guys had stayed that he’d have had any chance at making it? It’s easy to “carry the company” and be the “top guy” when you’re the “Only” guy. Matt’s nothing special Jeremy, and he’s going to find that out at Art of War in the Asylum.
Erica downs the last of her tequila, she drops two Ben Franklins on the bar and walks off towards the pool table. She’s definitely tipsy now, she didn’t feel it as much until she got up, but it felt good. She sees a pretty good looking guy in jean and t-shirt playing and walks over to him. She puts her hand on his shoulder and whispers in his ear. He pulls back looking her up and down with a smile, then drops the cue on the table and the two head out the door as the scene fades to black.
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