Sat Dec 31, 2022 7:07 am
- Quest Request and OOC reference:
Name: Heavy Metal Matchup
Player Participants: Jolene (-4)
Planned Location(s): Dawn Island
Planned Time Range: January 1829
Summary: Ringing in the New Year, Jolene MCs for a prize fight between “Macho Metal” Randy Rhoads, and a scrappy upstart who’s been making his name around the Gray Terminal. Things go awry, and Jolene’s role quickly shifts to that of a revolutionary soldier when the prize fight turns into a sting operation.
OOC: Here’s the reference for Randy’s affect, and some of the references. Randy
Even the falling snow was darkened with soot and grease as it softly descended upon the normally miserable inhabitants of the Gray Terminal. Despite these circumstances, even the outcast and forgotten denizens of the Goa Kingdom could not help but join together in celebration for having survived another year of hardship; groups of men huddled around burning trash cans, and underdressed whores kept themselves warm with blankets of vodka.
Ragamuffin children took a day off from trying to scam and pickpocket the Terminal’s adults, and instead opted to enjoy the last of the winter’s snowfall staging epic battles of imagination in between their grimy snowmen in pitches of brutal slushball warfare. This was a morning where the dimming spark of humanity and community glinted a bit brighter amongst the people of the kingdom’s lower class.
Roaring like a bonfire amongst the embers, was the center of the Terminal’s New Year’s festivities: a makeshift heptagonal arena built from discarded scaffolding, fencing, and scrap metal; it was rickety, but it was just tough enough to withstand the motion and weight of the cheering fans it accommodated. The framework shuddered as the Mistress of Ceremonies walked to the center of the pit.
A sea of wreckage and bloodshed was left in the aftermath of the “Destruction Duels,” a tournament whose results were decided both by single combat, and by destructive output. A slender-figured man, hair blonde but stained red with blood, limped up from the debris to meet the announcer; with a bead of crimson dripping from his chin, the man’s face contorted into a goofy and triumphant smile.
“Well! Ladies, gents, all my queer little weirdos~! We have a winner!...” sacheting on high heels through the heap of junk, broken glass, and destroyed furniture, Jolene walked up, leaned over, and put her hands on the victor’s shoulders, “... ‘Broken Glass’ Joe~ what a strong guy!” The promiscuous woman played into her flirtatious persona as the long-legged woman picked him up and drew the man’s fist high into the air.
“Well, I’d say we have a winner…” the woman threw Joe into the air, pretending that she would let him drop to the ground before catching him at the last moment, “... but we all know what that means! We’re just getting started here people! Give it up for our new contender while we give the guy a minute to rest!” The crowd erupted into cheers for Joe, a scrappy underdog who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere and won every match by the skin of his teeth.
With this, the leggy woman turned on her heels and ducked back behind the stage, heading for the performer’s powder room to freshen up her look before continuing the show. Sitting in front of the slightly-fractured mirror, Jolene drew a compact and began adjusting her makeup.
Another woman spoke over to Jolene from a nearby stool, Elizabeth, the manager of the night’s headliner, “so Jolene, you think he’s got any shot?”
“Mira-ku-ku-ku…” Jolene chuckled to herself as she retouched her eyeshadow, “... I mean you saw him right? He’s strong for a skinny guy, and he held out against some cyborgs, but I’d bet his wrist’d break if he punched Randy. Maybe he’s got somethin’ up his sleeve, but I don’t see it happening.”
“Well, I hope Randy wont mind another year with the title. I think he’s starting to get sick of being at the top of all this…” the curly-haired strawberry blonde spoke with a bit of concern for her client’s growing boredom with the sport, “... it’d be amazing if we could get him on a real ticket.”
“Yeah, good luck with that…” Jolene spoke a bit curtly, she’d made her fair share of calls to talent agencies across the East, and none seemed to have any interest in the down-and-outs of the Terminal, “... as much as Randy deserves it, this is the arena we’ve got. We’ll see if real competition ever comes for our king,” with this Jolene dabbed her face a final couple of times, now a bit less sweaty, and ready to head back into the spotlight.
“Every king’s days are numbered, I just hope he meets a worthy opponent before his time comes…” Elizabeth trailed off as she adjusted her makeup, she’d been crying backstage, but she was the manager of the day’s headliner and couldn’t be caught looking weak.
“Gya-ru-ru-ru-ru! Well don’t give up hope just yet Lizzy! Maybe this new guy’s got some tricks up his sleeve~,” with a flirty smile back at her friend, Jolene hyped herself up to head back into the ring and announce the next fight.
Sat at the edge of the arena resting upon a small makeshift chair, “Broken Glass” Joe had quelled his bleeding and regained his breath, and was now sipping from an unusually clean-looking vessel to hydrate himself. It wasn’t long before the pink-haired woman was upon him, looking him directly in the face before smiling and hoisting him up into the air to sit on her shoulder.
The Longleg shot a sultry look up to the man before asking him for his opening words, “well Joe-boy! You did well getting this far! Do you have anything to say to ‘Macho Metal’ before we begin? Give us somethin’ good!”
The man seemed reticent to say anything, he’d kept his mouth shut and let his performance speak for itself for all of the matches prior, what’s more the thick-thighed monstress he found himself sat upon would likely press him further if he didn’t come up with something good. Affecting the gruffest, and most boisterous voice he could, Joe figured he’d give the audience what they wanted:
“Metal is a damn good performer, been lookin’ up to him ever since I was a little kid. But I got a message for him, and all the rest of the old-timers: we got lots of new fighters on the streets, and your days are numbered. I may not look like much, but you better cling to that belt with your fuckin’ life or one of us is gonna rip it off ya! We ain’t stopping! And we’re comin’ for ya Randy! It’s about time that some of the new blood came to humble ya!” With this, Joe slid from Jolene’s shoulder and jumped down to the ground, landing in a bracing crouch.
Based on the applause, it seems like his “exaggeration” was sufficient distraction for the audience. Even the MC seemed a bit surprised with the tiny man’s big words.
“Alright then! This’ll be more exciting than I thought! We’ve got ‘Broken Glass’ here, tryin’ to shatter the status quo! Let’s see how well he does against–” the crashing sound of a heavy amplified bassline interrupted the woman, and sent tremors shooting throughout the shoddily-constructed stadium.
“Big words, big goals, little Joe, I like that, YEAUH!...” the man punctuated his hype-filled muttering with his iconic affirmative, as well as a serpentine flutter of his tongue, further accentuating the beginning of his monologue, an epic chorus of electrified instrumentation trembled across the small arena. Belching out steam, the amplifiers could hardly contain the vibrations being projected through them; and a number of bolts began to fly from the stadium’s scaffolding as the music came into force, shaking the audience and the structure itself to the core.
“... but I got a message fer you, and all the other young blood out there Joe! There’s no fightin’ nature, no fightin’ the tide, YEAUH! Cause comparatively speaking? You kids ain’t nothin’ but saplings! And let me tell you, the cream of the crop always rises to the top, YEAUH!” Upon finishing his opening statement, the burly metal-armed man procured a comically small broom, and began sweeping a clear path towards the center of the ring for himself.
Randy was dutiful in his sweeping, brushing aside scraps of metal, splintered wood, and…
“…Broken Glass, sorry, YEAUH! Almost swept you out with the rest a’ the trash. MY APO-LO-GIES, YEAUH! But one way or another yer leavin’ this ring, whether it’s in a garbage bag, or a bodybag lil’ Joe. THERE’S ONLY ONE MAN WHO CAN STAND IN THIS RING! AND I’M TELLIN YA NOW, YOU AIN’T GOT NOTHIN’ ON MACHO METAL, NOOO WAY!” Randy bellowed out his challenge with gravely machismo.
“Now, now, Randy, you two’ll have plenty of time to push ‘each other’ around the ring…” Jolene winked back towards Joe as she subtly teased him, “... what about Elizabeth? I don’t assume she put you up to this silly broom gag? What do you think, Joe? You think Randy’s whore wife is out with some guy again?” MCing a contender’s environment was a back-and-forth, and Jolene was more than happy to give the underdog some more ammunition at the expense of poking fun at her friend Liz.
Playing into the part of the heel, Joe blurted out a simple response, “I’ll bet! And hey, Lizzy, see me after the show when I put your boyfriend in his place!”
“Ooh!~ What a confident little guy!~ Why doesn’t anybody ever want to take me out after the fights,” Jolene pouted comically out towards the crowd, making flirtatious eye-contact with a couple of the attendants she thought most handsome and beautiful.
[npc=misc]“I LOVE YOU JOLENE!”[/npc] One of the fans shouted, not a man that the MC found particularly attractive!
“Don’t we all! Gya-ru-ru-ru-ru~!” She laughed leaning in towards the crowd.
Macho Metal began looking around towards the crowd himself, raising his arms in confusion, as his cool sunglasses would have kept his curiosity a secret otherwise, “What’s the big deal Lee Lee? You got a man with a solid-gold belt standing right here…” despite the performer’s bravado, the belt was in-fact made of plated copper, “...and you’re just tryin’ to get yourself a date?”
Looking back to the crowd, Jolene spoke briefly again before she was interrupted, “Well I’m always tryin–”
“I DON’T THINK YOU UNDERSTAND SOMETHIN’ HERE! THE BOTH OF YA!...” Randy screamed at a measured volume, pointing his index and pinky on both mechanical hands towards Joe and Jolene, “... YOU’RE BOTH JUST CHATTIN’ IT UP! AND YOU GOT ME! THE HIGHEST CALIBUR CYBERNETIC WRESTLIN’ FREAK IN THE TERMINAL, STANDING RIGHT IN FRONT OF YA! You can make passes at my wife all you want Joe, we all gotta get by somehow, but let me tell you somethin’ YEAUH! LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHIN’ LITTLE JOE!”
Randy picked his broom back up before snapping it over his knees and throwing it dramatically towards the crowd. One fan seemed a little too excited to have caught what amounted to another piece of trash, but in his eyes, it was going to be valuable memorabilia one day.
“I THINK YOUR TIME HERE IS OVER! AND I THINK THAT SPOTLIGHT’S GONNA STAY ON ME! YOU MIGHT BE GOOD, BUT YOU’RE FACIN’ DOWN ONE OF THE BEST THERE EVER WAS!” Randy raised his robotic fists to the air, flexing his pectorals before bringing his arms back down and punching into his fist; with the resounding of the man’s metallic limbs it was as though the bell had already sounded.
And with a smile, Jolene waited for Joe to ready himself before waving up to the bell-operator.
*DING DING* the hammer of the chime clattered, and with it, the battle was set into motion.
Damn alright, I guess I signed myself up for this, Joe thought nervously to himself. As he stared down the massive mechanically-enhanced man, it was as though he was already backed into a corner. What’s more, he doubted that the tricks that had got him this far would work against a veteran of the sport, or against the man’s hulking tanklike figure. There were only two options for a cornered animal, and he didn’t figure “stand and fight” what was going to work out in his favor here.
So run and hide it was. Scampering off behind a heap of scrap, Joe felt like a rat in a maze of his own construction; he had helped to build this pile of wreckage, and now it was little more than a hunting ground for a superior fighter.
“WHAT’S THE MATTER LITTLE GUY?!” Randy’s braggadocious taunting gave away his position, giving Joe just enough time to dodge out of the way of the spray of debris that erupted from the pile he had been hiding behind. Dusting off his huge mechanical fist, Macho Metal shook loose a couple of stray bolts and splinters from the aftermath of his opening salvo; one hiding place had been wiped off the face of the arena.
“YOU CAN ONLY KEEP THIS UP FOR SO LONG BUDDY! WHY DON’T WE JUST GET THIS OVER WITH! COME ON OUT AND FACE ME MANO A MANO!” The hulking man bellowed across the stadium, slowly sauntering towards the skulk he’d uncovered.
“Sorry! I’d rather not right now!” Joe shouted back, procuring something strange from his pocket.
Running into another corner of the maze, the small blonde cupped his hand and whispered into it, “Please tell me you’re here…”
The garbled response on the other end of the transceiver was only barely audible, even to Joe.
“OOH YEAUH! SO WHAT’S THE PLAN NOW JOE?!” Crashing through the wall of rubble, Macho Metal had his opponent on the ropes, there was nowhere left to run.
So Joe leapt, flinging himself backwards onto the corner of the arena, before dive-bombing down onto the oversized man and rolling over his shoulders, “Nowhere to go but up baby!”
The mysterious underdog looked a little too pleased with his one-liner before he found himself caught off guard, hurtling towards him were the barely-cushioned remains of a mattress, thrown by Macho from the scattered junkyard. He was lucky the springs were worn down too, otherwise he would have been impaled through the chest; not that being trapped inside a mattress was all that much better considering the impending approach of a thousand pound man ready to take a catnap.
“YA SEE NOW?! ALL THIS NEW BLOOD AIN’T NOTHIN’ BUT FURNISHINGS FOR THE MACHO METAL’S HOME SWEET HOME!” Randy walked towards his new bed slowly, he was ready to take some well-deserved rest, but he wasn’t going to let down his adoring fans in the process.
“Puru-puru-puru…” Joe already knew who was on the other end of the call, and what it meant; he answered quickly as a formality, asking for ten more seconds to ready the stage. Procuring a knife from his belt, Joe cut a hole in the mattress, and braced himself for the weight of the enormous man; hopefully his defense would be sufficient to avoid being crushed.
“I think it’s time for the Macho Metal to rest easy, don't ya think…” the wrestler spoke hushedly to the now quieted ring, with this the man put his hands behind his head before falling into bed dramatically, dropping his weight into “The Bedrest” finishing move, “... YEAUHOUCH!”
As soon as Randy’s back made contact with the bed, he shot back up in an instant, before falling straight forwards unconscious; and having taken down the arena’s most able combatant using his “shocking surprise,” Warrant Officer Joe Shimo was ready to set his sting operation into motion.
Emerging from the borders of the stadium, clad in climbing gear along with their typical attire, a group of Marines set upon the audience like a group of well-trained dogs. Deploying a number of nets over the crowd, the objective of this mission wasn’t massacre, it was extraction. With the crowd momentarily controlled, it was the Navy’s job to collect some of the more notorious criminals amongst the Gray Terminal’s underground wrestling scene.
“What the hell?!” A wave of fury and betrayal washed over the Longleg woman as she saw the white and blue uniforms of the Marines alongside the man who had given them their orders.
Joe was quick to put Randy in cuffs, and Jolene was equally quick to point out the futility of such an effort, “you realize he’ll just snap those things like that broom once he wakes up right?”
“Well I suppose it’s good that we in the Navy think of these things beforehand isn’t it?...” the man procured a small syringe full of tranquilizer, dosing the large man with it before turning his attention back to the revolutionary whore, “... Mistress of Ceremonies, Revolutionary spy Jolene.”
“How do you know that?!” The pink-haired girl blurted out without second thought.
“You fucked my dad,” Joe answered matter-of-factly.
“I fucked your dad? Who?!” She couldn’t imagine whose bastard offspring she was looking at, but perhaps it was simply a product of names and faces blending together.
“I’m not at liberty to say…” the Officer answered curtly, and with an undertone of agitation in his voice, “... now submit to arrest before things get ugly Jolene!”
“Bullshit you can’t tell me! You’re just embarrassed your daddy likes hot, tall, ladies who beat the shit out of ‘im!”
“That is true, but is not pertinent to your arrest.”
“Yari-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-man~, well it’s pertinent to yours now!...” Jolene unlatched, and whipped out a pair of manacles from her belt, “... how dare you deceive a group full of earnest, excited, wrestling fans! In the name of the New Revolutionary Army, I’ll punish you!” With a strange pose, the girl spun the still-closed end of the handcuffs around on her finger before tensing its chain.
“Pfh. Silly girl, you really think any of this theatrical showboating and play fighting amounts to anything of value? It’s entertainment for the lowest of the low, wretches like you who could never find a place in a proper society, who have to smash what little they have into even tinier pieces to feel as though you have control over something in this world. This brand of vulgar wrestling, demolitions? Do you think these things have any place in the civilized world? Wrestling ought to be a simple contest of athletics, these men and their stupid little monologues make me sick–
“You ain’t the only one gettin’ sick of men monologuing pal! And to think, I called you cute…” the girl dramatically spat and pawed at her tongue, “... overserious guys like you annoy the shit out of me. You think you’re gonna get people to fall in line just cause you tell them to straighten up and fly right? Why don’t you try offering them something worthwhile instead? Like freedom, fun, or a good fuck!” Jolene raised her fist up into the air with her lewd rallying cry.
“Hmm. On second thought I’m pretty sure why you can’t offer that last one…” Jolene set her eyes on her target, she was going to kick this man in the dick so many times, “... if you take yourself seriously all the time, then you never learn how to have any fuckin’ fun with your life!” With this, Jolene threw her first kick towards the man.
Using a simple defensive technique, Joe tried to brace by tensing and bracing his forearms, but it was no good; being kicked by this woman was like being stomped by a clydesdale, the bones in his arms were shattered instantaneously. Joe looked up to his men for help, but they were preoccupied, hauling men from the crowd and subduing the little resistance they met in doing so.
“What’s the matter? Didn’t ya come down into the ring for some one-on-one action? I can’t offer you ‘MANO A MANO’...” Jolene lowered her voice surprisingly well as she affected Randy’s voice, “... but I can show you what it’s like to get beat up by a girl! We can see if those preferences of your father’s run in the family~”
Joe was all but defenseless against the incoming volley of kicks, and the woman was faster than he could hope to keep up with; he hadn’t assessed this mission’s threats properly: he’d focused on the man with the biggest arms, when he should’ve been focusing on the woman with the thickest thighs.
And now it was time to pay the price. Joe screamed in agony as his branch of the Shimo family tree was clipped away by a pair of high-heel shaped pruning scissors. Finally, his men were paying attention to him; seeing their leader doubled over, gargling and spitting up from the pain of having his nuts kicked up his guts, shot a wave of fear through the Marines.
Even the dumbest among the men knew that longer legs meant faster running, and most of them immediately started wondering what would happen to them if the monstress caught up with them; fearing for their family jewels, the men dropped their prisoners and began hauling ass away from the stadium.
“Gya-ru-ru-ru! See how easily your security is shattered, ‘Broken Sack’ Joe? It’s ‘cause every one of those guys knows what they’d choose between their manhood and servin’ their government! And I commend them for their long-term commitment to their adoring wives and husbands~” Thinking about junk had gotten the strange girl in a romantic mood, as she swooned over the Marines protecting their future families.
“Blkghyack-koffach-aaaghk!” Joe attempted a response, something along the lines of ‘fuck you, you psychotic bitch,’ but instead of words all that came out was a choked, miserable, high-pitched babble.
Sitting upon the broken mattress, Jolene mocked her meek opponent with a lascivious smile, “oh what? Wasn’t it fun for you?...” she bounced up and down on the bed for a moment, getting comfortable on the well-worn boxspring, “... now about daddy. I’m gonna give you a minute, and then we’re getting back to nutstomping if you don’t tell me who’s been letting my little secret fly~”
Sticking to her word, the woman gave Joe exactly a minute to recover, counting each passing second in her head, “Alright bud, are we getting back to it?” The woman stretched her arms and legs, giving her kicks a couple of practice swings to intimidate her subject.
“Ghyaghk! Okay! Okay! I’m Joe Shimo, my dad is Moe Shimo! I don’t know how he figured you out, but I’m closing your fucking file when I get back to HQ! I’m not gonna let you do this to anyone else!” The Warrant Officer cried out, shielding himself from further harm as he confessed.
Jolene scrutinized the man, assessing whether or not he needed another kick to the nuts to fess up, “Good boy~,” she could tell she’d put the fear of god into him, he wasn’t gonna lie to her, and hopefully he’d follow through on his promise to close her case. She’d rather meet the Marines on the sidelines of a proper pitched battle, killing a man in the middle of a sporting arena would be in poor taste. With this in mind, Jolene reared back for one final kick, and mercifully punted the man out of the stadium by his ass.
Joe hurdled through the air, flying on the weight of the leggy woman’s drop-kick; in no time at all he was back with his unit, who hadn’t gotten too far from the structure before they started wondering whether or not they should’ve left their commanding officer to die back there. Falling back down to earth like a fleshy meteor, and landing in a crumpled pile, Joe could gurgle out only a sole command, carry me please…”
[npc=navy]“Sir! Are you okay?!”[/npc] One of the Marines cried worriedly to his officer.
“Did it look like I was fucking okay, Marty?” Joe coughed out his resentful, high-pitched, reply.
[npc=navy]“I-I-I…”[/npc] the man nervously stammered over his words as his chipmunk-voiced Warrant Officer looked up to him with contempt, [npc=navy]“... I’m sorry sir!”[/npc] With this, Marty and a number of the other men dropped to their knees to apologize to the ally that they’d failed. All, in all, he didn’t seem impressed or appreciative as they hauled him back home in a stretcher.
Back in the Arena
The crowd’s panic had begun to die down, nobody had been extracted, and the audience had managed to help each other untangle themselves from their netted prisons. The eyes of the crowd turned curiously down to Jolene, and the collapsed Macho Metal; sometimes it was hard to tell what was part of the show, but this would be one of the weirdest twist performances yet.
Jolene strolled over to Randy, kneeling down to him and shaking the guy by his steel shoulders, “Randy, get up. Come on man. You won, and we’ve got a crowd to please.”
“Snrk– OOH YEAUH! Mi-mi-mi-mi-mi~" the big lug was talking in his sleep, Jolene only had one option left.
“WAKE UP YA BIG PIECE A SHIT! HOW AM I GONNA ANNOUNCE THE VICTORY OF A SLEEPING CONTESTANT!...” Jolene angrily traced her curvaceous figure with her hands, summoning the Djinn known as Rex to deliver the asswhipping that only an evil spirit could. Picking up Randy in its smoky hands, the ghostly creature slapped Macho Metal back and forth across his face until the man’s sunglasses flew off, Jolene cried out the kiai of her fighting spirit as it did so: “...GYA-RU-RU-RA-RA-RA-RA-ORA!”
As soon as the unfiltered light hit Randy’s eyelids, they snapped open like the jaws of a wolf, revealing the whites and intense blue of the man’s eyes; fluttering his view back and forth, Macho Metal looked for the contender who would dare to strip him of his signature shades. But it seemed it was just Jolene, and her little “referee.”
Diving down to retrieve his eyewear, Randy quickly donned them before drowsily rising back to his feet, “thank you Jolene, thank you…” Macho was back to his rambling, and evidently ready to meet the crowd once more as the reigning champ, “... YOU SEE PEOPLE! Even with outside interference, the MACHO METAL is the last man standing; and all it takes to deal with a handful of goons trying to ruin the show? One big lady! OH YEAUH! I’ve got the connections, I’ve got people to watch your back. THE MACHO MADNESS CAN AFFORD TO TAKE A LITTLE NAP HERE AND THERE! Let things sort themselves out, let the ladies handle it, OOH YEAUH!”
“Yari-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-man~, stop it Randy you’re making me blush…” Jolene wiggled her figure back and forth with affection and slight embarrassment, a sight that a number of the men, bisexuals, and lesbians in the audience, were pleased to see, “... but I guess you’re right! Ladies, Gentleman, all my little fuckin’ weirdos~, if you take one thing away from this years duels, make it this: even if it was all a part of the show tonight, you all helped to keep each other safe and free each other! That’s what it means to have friends, and to have a community! This next year, let’s focus on kicking the asses of Navy jerkoffs like those guys instead of fighting and stealing amongst ourselves! If you’re looking to make an extra buck this year? Kick a Marine in the dick and steal his wallet!” Jolene beamed joyously up to the crowd as she held up a billfold stuffed to the gills with berri between her index and middle fingers.
“Ain’t you forgetting somethin’ Lee Lee?” Macho asked, his burly armored pythons crossed across his chest, his booted right foot tapping impatiently against the scrap-scattered ground.
“Oh! Right!...” the girl tapped her fingers against the side of her head and displayed a goofy smile to the crowd, as though to indicate that something important had slipped her mind, “... RANDY REIGN EVERYBODY! OUR REIGNING CHAMPION HOLDS ONTO HIS BELT FOR ANOTHER YEAR! WILL HE EVER MEET A MAN STRONG ENOUGH TO TAKE IT?! NOT TODAY BITCHES! MIRA-KU-KU-KU-KU!”
With Jolene’s announcement, Elizabeth scampered up from behind the stage and jumped up into her husband’s arms. Handing the small girl the couple’s scrap-copper trophy, Jolene smothered both Randy, and Lizzy in overly affectionate kisses; playing up her flirtatious intrusion on the couple for the crowd, and leaving both parties covered in lipstick by the end of their applause.
Ending the show, more of Macho Metal’s electrifying theme music was pumped in through the arena, echoing, and shaking the foundations to its core. The music alongside the excitement of the crowd finally began to demolish the stadium, and fortunately nobody was hurt as the crowd filtered out of the bleachers and wreckage. Still, even amongst the heaps of rubble and scrap, the men played their song all the louder; they knew the night’s program didn’t involve the intrusion of law enforcement, but they were happy to keep up k-fabe, and celebrate Randy’s legacy however they could.
Parting ways, Jolene and Randy shared a look of fraternity as well as their signature handshake, a complicated little gesture that ended with Jolene tugging her eye and sticking her tongue out, and Randy simply slithering his own like a snake, “see ya out there next time lugnuts! One of these days I’m gonna find somebody to beat you, even if it’s gotta be me!”
“OOH YEAUH-HUH-HUH! Lookin’ forward to it Jolene! GIMME THE BEST YOU GOT!”
Epilogue: Sometime Later, in a Nearby Marine HQ…
“Never again, never again, never again…” Joe scribbled and stamped away at every document pertaining to the horrible witch that had stolen his manhood, “... no fucking cadet is going to meet that freak ever again. I don’t fucking care what she’s doing. She’s not going to make a big enough difference with those Revolutionary dogs to cause us any problems unless we get within reach of her legs. Every last man has to stay away from that bitch,” Joe muttered to himself, thinking himself alone in the room.
“Officer Shimo, what are you doing?” The steely-eyed woman looked across the desk at the man’s insane, neutered-sounding muttering, and the wanton destruction of government property that he was engaging in.
“You’re not stopping me Lieutenant Asuka, I’m not letting any more of our men lose their future families like that,” Joe grumbled insubordinately as he continued his dutiful work.
Asuka was able to snatch up one of the last documents pertaining to the girl that hadn’t been marred beyond recognition, “What about a woman?”
“I hear getting kicked down there isn’t great for you girls either. Please just leave that pink-haired hyper-bitch alone, she’s more trouble than she’s worth,” the man seemed like he was on the verge of tears just remembering the pain.
“Trouble eh? Sounds like my kinda girl~” the short and muscular woman strode out of the office, leaving her traumatized subordinate to his miserable work. A wicked little smile crossed Asuka’s face and her eyes glinted a bit brighter with excitement at the prospect of her next hunt.
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Total Word Count: 5,102
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