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The Definition of Insanity; Vs. Erica WHATEVERTHEFUCK
Topic Started: Sep 25 2015, 03:41 PM (17 Views)
Deleted User
DeBlanc got himself a security force to try to tame us. We truly are animals, I guess. Doesn’t he know? You can’t handle a lioness.

It’s like the one parable of the snake. A woman helps an injured snake. She treats it to good health, feeds it, and gives it a home. One day, it strikes her, giving her a fatal dosage of its deadly venom. When she wearily stares at it, she can only ask “why did you do that?”

“Oh,” the snake begins, “I am a snake. You knew that. It’s only in my nature.”

Heheh, I should paste this all over his office walls. “ONLY IN MY NATURE”. He cannot stop me from doing what I want. Those men can hold me down, but I can do damage faster than they can catch me. They’d have to keep people posted on the rafters. I’ll gladly hang one of these bitches from it. I know every nook and cranny of this place. I have more than one way to maim a person. When I’m done, I have more than one way to disappear into the shadows.

Maybe I can show them my skills on Erica Whateverthefuck. DeBlanc made it so that when I win, I get a chance at a new belt. A belt all for me. How sweet. I’ll send him flowers. He doesn’t know that it would satiate my hunger. I WANT THE PITT CHAMPIONSHIP. I WANT MY BABY. SHE IS MINE AND MINE ALONE. Angel Kash failed to try to take her from me. SHE DOESN’T DESERVE A SECOND CHANCE.

Kayla Livingstone DOESN’T EXIST. People say she beat me—SHE DIDN’T. SHE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING, BECAUSE HE’S NON-EXISTENT.

I didn’t lose to anyone. I’m undefeated. I have been always undefeated. I’ll always be undefeated. I’m the winner. Didn’t you hear me when I BEAT THAT WORTHLESS DJ HALF TO DEATH that I’m the winner? Do I have to repeat myself every time I beat one of these trivial mongrels down? I’ll be out there to prove again that I’M THE PITT CHAMPION.

I AM THE LIONESS!
I AM THE “SHE-DEVIL”!
I AM THE 1%!

I’m going to take the Pitt Championship. Not because I won it. No, it’s because it’s mine already. Doesn’t anyone check the little gold nameplate? It says “JJ MOTHERFUCKING BRINE”. I’m coming to pick it up. I’ll watch those two play their game this week. They’ll sign a useless contract. They’ll wrestle in a pointless match. Then they’ll get angry at me for a moot reason.

“Why you do you have my championship?”

I reply by scooping them up and dropping them on their damn neck. CHAMPION DON’T HAVE TO ANSWER TO LOSERS!
Erica Whateverthefuck doesn’t know what she’s in for. She really doesn’t. She watched me slaughter Brandi Blaze, right? If she did and think that’s all I’m going to do to her, she’s wrong. She’s CRAZY for thinking, amirite? Hahaha.

People think I’m crazy? No, I’m just here. I’m existing in this world. I don’t bother with such labels. I do what I need to do. I’ve always had a mission here. That mission is to make mockery of all of these TYPICAL HUMANS here in the Pitt. They walk the ramp. I crawl from the rafters. They believe in fair fighting, but I know what the Pitt is supposed to be. It’s a breeding ground for ultraviolence. IT’S A PLACE FOR MONSTERS LIKE ME.

Did The Man in the Pitt get scared of his own creation? Did he get scared of someone like me?

I knew it. HE’S A PUNK BITCH.

He’s in the same boat as Angel Kash!

See, that’s the kind of shit that I hate. When someone presents their idea, but get scared when people decide to enjoy it. I ENJOY THE PITT TO ITS FULLEST EXTENT. I love the Pitt. The Pitt loves me. DeBlanc just doesn’t love me. He just doesn’t love the things that I do. Banion isn’t going to love me either. He’ll never see me, though.

Perhaps I’ll take a baseball bat to the back of his glistening head. I’ll blame it on a rival Biker gang. Hell, I can admit it later. I’m not threatening anyone of them.

They can’t touch me. They couldn’t touch me either. BECAUSE I’M FUCKING UNTOUCHABLE.

I AM THE PITT CHAMPION. I AM THE TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS. I AM THE WOMAN IN THE PITT!

I AM FUCKING NONFICTIONAL IN A LAND OF FICTIONAL BITCHES!



“Hello, watchers of the Pitt,” the scene opened simply to JJ sitting down on her porch, watching people walk on by. Happy, the suburban people are. With their fixed smiles, perfect skin, and questionable fashion sense, they traverse the world devoid of problems. JJ assimilated into their community. She waved to a middle-aged man. Salt and pepper hair, clean cut, and garbed in golfer’s attire. He gave JJ a happy expression and a friendly wave. JJ’s attention is on the environment she decided to stay in.

“Recently, I’ve been informed that I have to fight a weirdo. That’s obviously a lie. The truth is, I have to fight multiple people in the form of one person. Surreal, isn’t it?” it garnered a laugh from JJ. “It doesn’t matter. I can beat anyone in any kind of match. I dub this a handicap match. How many people am I fighting? I don’t really know, I don’t really care. All I know and care about is that they’re all named Erica. And I can beat them all by myself.”

“So when I say ‘Erica’, I’m not talking about Erica Vargas, Erica Duke, Erica Whateverthefuck, I’m talking about all of them.”

JJ brushed a loose strand of hair from her face.

“Did I ever tell you the definition of insanity, Erica? Of course, I haven’t. I’ve never spoken to you a day in my life. When we do, I’ll shake your hand and call you sister,” JJ took a sip of her too-sweet-for-comfort iced tea. She took off the lemon and sucked on it hard, before spitting out a seed.

“Sister, the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result,” JJ lolled her tongue around in her mouth, before giving the camera a confused look.

“Do we call our match your final stop on the path to insanity?” she states.

“You beating me is crazy within itself; you eventually returning to try to beat me will be the exact definition of insanity. You’ll be expecting to win, like you are this week. Yet, you will fail. Again.”

JJ snickered.

“Brandi Blaze learned the definition of insanity. She also learned the definition of agony—“JJ suddenly burst into laughter, almost spilling the glass of sugary beverage. “She thought she could fight me again and change the result of our last match. It’ll end the same for you like it did for her.”

“I’m going to beat you. I’m going to go on to take the new championship DeBlanc made personally for me. Then you’re welcome to come to try to take it from me. The result is going to be the same. I’ll pick you up lovingly in my soft hands and drop you on your neck. If you get up, I’ll help you up. Then I’ll drop you again. I do it as many times as it takes until you stop or I hear a crunch.”

“I’ll make you go crazy, Erica, since you don’t believe you are. Everyone else does. I’ll make you believe too.”

“I’ll make you a lot of things. Angry by the words I say. Hurt by the things I do. Depressed by the things you do yourself after I beat you. Therapy is only a few drives away. You can go to work out all of your issues. Especially your biggest one. Me. I’m going to be the biggest issue you’re ever going to deal with. You’ll hate me. You’ll love me. You’ll have nightmares of me. I’m even sure you’ll have wonderful dreams of me cradling you softly, instead of bashing your head into the mat.”

“I’ll make you know what your name is. I’ll make your little personas form back together to make the real you. I already know who you really are,” another drink of the horribly sweet drink.

“A loser; a broken down, sobbing loser,” her voice already defined pity.

“When you wipe those tears, you’ll try like Brandi did to stop me from doing whatever I please. And when we get there, I’ll look in your eyes, call you ‘sister’, and ask.”

JJ finished off her sweet tea, placing it down on the ground nearest to her. She gave a camera a questionable look.

“Did I ever tell you the definition of insanity?”
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