Her words to the agent were sharp, proud and loud. “Out with the old and in with the me.”
Said a wiley little devil, pencil-arm flexed and teeth brandished. A full pearly white set! Minus one golden tooth in the upper-left jaw. She’d ask about WHY she wasn’t booked sooner, and this fucker, about 5’4” and 120 pounds of pure WIMP, had the gaul to bullshit her with: “You never answered our calls.”
“WRONG! I never forget.” With a thumb thrust against her chest ( ouch ), she continued to exclaim the following malarkey. “You know what it is? You’re just too good at your job. You’re absolutely amazing. Blew it out the park. In-fact, I think I’ll be giving a call to your boss at the loser department to say you need a promotion.”
“T-Thank you? I think. No one has ever said anything nice to me.”
A sweat formed on this guy’s receding hairline. The classic M wasn’t doing him any wonders. When it came to sweat, did it leak on the new path of a razed hairline? Questions for when she shaves a bitch bald. That was already on her to-evil list. Along with… Many, many other promises that were always epic, HUGE and definitely heinous, topping the social media posts at one-hundred likes on her highest one YET! Look at me, she posted, LAW is about to be taken by FORCE! Posted… Three months ago, and yet… In the dozens of tweets that followed, there was a pattern developing…
Katja Archangelais is coming to LAW
Katja was gearing up. At least, that’s what the agent assumed when Katja was putting her hands inside a duffle bag and fidgeting with something. When he came over to get her attention, he was blindsided by her magnificent maneuvers. Wrist lock, hammerlock, then a good shoulder to the lumbar to make him careen into the locker, splat, then twist around for a barrage of thinner metals clanging, denting, un-denting, then facing his assailant.
“Wait a minute, Miss Archangelais! I haven’t said who your opponent is!”
A slice of tape slapped across his mouth. He blushed, muffling something, “What are you doing??”
Katja turned around, then went back into her duffle bag for a package wrapped in parchment and a second-hand brown cuckoo clock tied to the front. She took a bottle of super-glue then lathered that puppy up to place against his chest. The agent’s red face became a gulp. The package slid down, no doubt caused by the cuckoo clock. She rolled her bottom lip in, thought, then snapped her fingers, going back to the bag to unveil duct tape! A classic. She tried to envelop him, but the tightness of the space proved that awkward. It was hard to get around his back-side, but he helped! Thankfully enough.
“Here, here… Allow me. I got it.” He mumbled, leaning and twisting his shoulders, helping to secure the bomb AND his arms to his body. She turns the clock’s arms to make it ten minutes till the next cuckoo.
Tick… Tick… Tick… Tick…
“Thanks, loser.” She said, then shut the locker door, putting a new padlock on it that’s straight from the package. She discarded it in the bin next to the door, then exited into the hall. A maintenance shed door was about a five second walk away. Grey walls. Blue doors. White Labels. Easy, Peasy, Bearhug, Squeeze-Me. There was an assortment of usual stuff that meant nothing… except for the yellow folding sign. Wet floor! She placed that by the locker-room door, then walked in the total opposite direction of the ring.
“Heeeeelp! Someone get this bomb off me!” Goes the agent.
Another wrestler walks by with a bag. Younger girl. 20s, black and purple hair, short, purple eyes and in a long white dress with a crown of Angel wings around her head. She stops, hears the screaming, goes to the door and freezes. A text.
Love of my Life: Where are you? Get over here, I’m in the car.
Love of my Life: Now.
Winter: Coming! <3
Winter wanders off.
------------------------------------------------------
At the LAW Gymnasium, Katja fancied herself free of all responsibilities from five minutes ago. The place was mostly empty, apart from equipment and a single treadmill in the corner. It was the loudest thrum in the room, with jogging feet shooting the road back. Clomp clomp. She was tinier than her! Blonde, with mid-back locks bouncing and flowing as she jogged.
“Hey, pipsqueak.” Katja said, then came up to her. “This is my treadmill.”
There wasn’t any response. Katja spotted white wireless plugs of some kind in her ears. Definitely headphones. She looked like a swiftie. And that in of itself deserved Katja’s wrath, reaching out and plucking the ear-piece.
“Heeellooooo?!”
“Ah!” The blonde jolted, covered her ear and hopped up so her feet were stationary on the frame. She reached out for the ear-piece, but Katja pulled it away, straight-faced, then placed it on a bench. The blonde frowned.
“What the hell is your problem?”
“Bum the fuck off, alright? I need this to warm up.”
Katja gestured towards her back, dismissing her as the blonde ceded the treadmill. She got on, then worked up speed from a jog, into a sprint. Then she kept sprinting. And kept sprinting. Would they believe her if she overdid it? ‘Cause It wasn’t her fault she missed another debut opportunity, but that means more advertisements! She loved film sets, and even wished to become an actor to play a villain that squared up against the Avengers. To become the person that ruled wrestling AND film industries as the baddest, most eeeeeevil looking mastermind around.
But there was plenty of time.
Time now floating by as Katja warmed up.
Afterwards, she’ll go grab a bite to eat, head home for a nap, then wake-up and be able to come back in time for that match!
“Hello.” The blonde came back, standing at the side. “Hell-o.”
STOMP.STOMP.STOMP.
“H-Haff… Haff… Can’t you see… H-Haff… I’m busy breaking… H-Haff.. a record? The longest sprint!”
More running. The blonde didn’t leave, so Katja stared towards the ceiling and started to breathe deeply, closing her eyes and breathing deeply to maintain pace. It came a calm place, a straining place, a fucking sauna in her villainous leotard and thigh-high boots. When all the numbers flicker off, the belt’s speed simmering down, Katja grabs the sides, pants and slumps her shoulders.
“When I get my hands on the paws of whichever slimey cat did this!--”
The blonde. That’s who. She’s leaning against the wall, holding a plug-in cord behind her back.
“YOU!”
Katja accused with the thrust of an index. She marched up to her, unphased by her prior sprint, then extended a hand.
“Give it back before I knock that wig off.”
“How do you know it’s a wig?”
“Experience, cunt. Now are you going to give it back or are we going to make things…”
A pause, then POUNCE! Katja tried to headlock her, but she slipped underneath her arm, wrapped Katja’s throat in the cord then shoved her against a wall.
“Difficult?” The blonde said calmly. Katja grinned, cheek mushed against the wall. “Nice moves. Where you get them? The farmer’s market for basic loser bitches?”
Katja moved her hips to the side, reached back, hooked a leg and attempted to suplex her into the carpeted concrete. The blonde torqued the cord choke, pulling them together and then tumbling onto their backs, with the blonde on-bottom and Katja left grabbing the cord. The blonde leg-scissored Katja’s right leg. “In some areas. I can't box to save my life. You should help me, since we’re all alone. I can replace the heavy-bag with a certain archangel.”
Katja’s body shivered. A hand touched her stomach, spread, then sucked in. Katja rolled both lips in, started to sweat at her hairline and felt her mouth go dry. Suddenly, she laughed. “Yeah, right! BITCH!” Then rolled out sideways and yanked the cord free. She kipped up, then threw the cord down. “Who needs treadmills?!” She points while taking a step back, queasy. “You need a mental hospital, freak! I may be evil but I’m not wicked! Stay the fuck away from me! Or in fact… Watch me! See what’s in-store for you.”
She bolted.
Beyond the blonde, a half-black, half-white haired goth emerged with eyes as deep as the kola borehole.
“I’ll be your date.” Said Nyarlathotep.
-------------------------------------
Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick…
COO-COO.
COO-COO.
DING. DONG.
COO-COO.
COO-COO.
Nothing happened. The agent worked up a mess on his face of sweat, snot and silent mortal fear. He started to wiggle his arms. The tape wasn’t on every well or even tightly. He pulled it off under a minute, then checked the bomb. It smelled funny.
Chemicals.
And he was correct! Partially! After tearing a corner of the paper, looking away, closing all extremities, he looked back at the block of cheese. “Cheddar?” He glares, wipes his face, then punches the clock. It hurts his hand, shaking it out, sighing, then giggling. Just outside, Maze Messina and Daishouri were outside the door. Daishouri tried to undo the lock, twisting knobs, then huffing.
“I’m not a safecracker. You?”
Maze crossed her arms to an X, hands pointed up, then shook her head.
“I’ll go get someone.”
After a moment of tapping her bottom lip with an index, she raised an index finger to Dai, then started to shadow jab the door with a fist.
Dai squinted, then scratched her cheek. “That’s metal.”
Maze shrugged.
Through the doorway, Maisilyn emerged in suit and tie, having finished another meeting to arrange more resources and scheduling for the upcoming gambit. She stopped, watched, then lifted a hand to her mouth, only to realise she didn’t have a cigarette. She sighs, looks over to the bin, then sees the only thing resting at the bottom: the padlock packaging.
She instinctively reached, cringed, padding her pockets for her handling gloves, only to remember they were already used today. “Maze, dear.”
Maze’s head towards her direction.
“I have something to tell you.”
Figuring Maze was about to get the talk she was waiting for, Maze got up and stopped right in front of her. For a few moments, they stared at each other. Maisilyn broke first, blushing, then having a sneeze she turned her head for. She covered her nose and kept her mouth shut.
“Maze, darling... Do you have hand sanitizer?”
Maze pulled a plastic bag with wipes inside. Clean, straight from a box behind Hotel Madison’s staff room no doubt. She opened the bag, then remembered something crucial. She looked at Maisilyn again, nodding three times, then putting the wipe bag into her suit breast pocket. Pat pat. Maisilyn squinted back, as if silently saying, 'I'll be collecting, later.'
“Guys?” Dai said aloud, then reached into the bin and pulled the packaging.
“I think we can get it open now.”
When they opened it, the agent was sitting, knees tucked, content and nibbling on the cheese block.
It tasted alright.
COO-COO
---------------------------
By the goddess of Tyche, Katja appeared as a guerilla mere moments before starting. Half didn’t seem too pleased, with rolling eyes, a sigh then an exchange of yen notes. The executive producer padded her shoulder, then slipped her an earpiece with a microphone. “Welcome! You’re just in time. The stage is all yours. I’m sure you’ll do wonderful.”
Katja grinned, feeling a blush of pink, “Leave it to me!”
“Wait!” Said an approaching Daishouri. Katja stopped, turned around, then faced a woman bowing to her and handing her the mask. Katja patted her head, then ruffled her hair. “My henchwoman. Thank you.”
And off she went. “You’re welcome?” Said Dai.
Theme Music
The Archangel
BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM.
Fireworks! Her mask flashed on Titantron just like it did her face. She surveyed the audience who clapped to the display through a red visor. Her tone now carried far from the microphone.. “League of Ameteur WIMPS!” Some furrowed their brows. Others didn’t expect there to be sermon. Her music cut and she strode down the rampart. “I bet you’re glad I’m finally here. Now you’ll honour me with SILENCE!”
The crowd listened.
“I’ve read, seen and participated in all the evil shit you get onto around here, and I, the Archangel, have only one word for it: BOR-ING. The world’s finest my pale butt, this place is five moves and a bearhug. Who loses to a bearhug?! Suckers. What you need… Is a bit of me. And what I will do is…”
She reached ringside, stopped and took a breath…
“... Make things TEN TIMES WORSE! HA-HA!”
She tore the mask off, then grinned wildly as she marched up the steps and stepped onto the corner pad to stand on it, then flex. “You think you’ve seen the best, brightest and most dastardly? WRONG! Everyone before me was a copy. I even invented the nut-shot and that he-ro in the back who wants one… Come GET one!”
