The Sunday Show
Taking place inside a hotel bar, these two juggernauts will attempt to smother each other unconscious or secure surrender!
INTRODUCTION
There was more than ONE place than the Open Bottle to snag a drink. An even better place, said Hotel Madison’s most pink Bartender. The Full Glass. With its chandelier lights glimmering off the shiny bar counter. A high-end but antique aesthetic with dark colours contrasted by the different light sources. Furniture sets went along the back wall, with sofas and chairs to create blocks of partying patrons and easier bottle service, with more standard chairs also being available. The front was almost like a lobby with its velvety seats around a coffee table. Plants and a rock water fountain, washing down on the yen coins sitting at its bottom. A clever way to add more tips to her employee’s pockets from patrons, all ranging on the spectrum of inebriation.
Maisilyn was at the bar, drinking her third glass of the day. She felt a kick, a buzz, then happiness in her lips and finger-tips, getting up and walking out the wide doors to face a waiting camera. “We all want to be held close, don’t we? Squeezed, sometimes. The warmth of another, feeling the head of someone we love… -or hate-, nestled into our bosoms." She grabbed her fingers behind her back, then added a small left-right twist from her shoulders, tilting her head and calming her expression into something sweet and in control. "The longer we keep them there, the more loyal they’ll become. Or, in this case, compliant.”
She snapped her finger, pointed inside and then walked back. The camera followed and they re-entered the place. “Now I remember re-building this place. It cost a small fortune, a lot of time and a couple strings to make this home.” She gestured to a protruding wall. On it, a painting of her two parents, stone-faced and holding the base of a glass.
She sat down. “We’ve done well for ourselves here, but -- it always missed just a little entertainment. The kind that makes you live. And what better than two women in their prime, trashing my home, grinding, toppling, grappling and indefinitely smothering until one drops. Or quits. I think I might just watch. Will you? Then sit down, -shut- up and raise a toast. To Alienor Yse vs Janice Miller, smother match at The Full Glass.”
Maisilyn was at the bar, drinking her third glass of the day. She felt a kick, a buzz, then happiness in her lips and finger-tips, getting up and walking out the wide doors to face a waiting camera. “We all want to be held close, don’t we? Squeezed, sometimes. The warmth of another, feeling the head of someone we love… -or hate-, nestled into our bosoms." She grabbed her fingers behind her back, then added a small left-right twist from her shoulders, tilting her head and calming her expression into something sweet and in control. "The longer we keep them there, the more loyal they’ll become. Or, in this case, compliant.”
She snapped her finger, pointed inside and then walked back. The camera followed and they re-entered the place. “Now I remember re-building this place. It cost a small fortune, a lot of time and a couple strings to make this home.” She gestured to a protruding wall. On it, a painting of her two parents, stone-faced and holding the base of a glass.
She sat down. “We’ve done well for ourselves here, but -- it always missed just a little entertainment. The kind that makes you live. And what better than two women in their prime, trashing my home, grinding, toppling, grappling and indefinitely smothering until one drops. Or quits. I think I might just watch. Will you? Then sit down, -shut- up and raise a toast. To Alienor Yse vs Janice Miller, smother match at The Full Glass.”
