Post by SGAkrista on Feb 19, 2013 9:35:26 GMT -5
CONSOL ENERGY CENTER - Pittsburgh - 1030
Barry Lincoln is backstage with a camera man, roaming the Energy Center looking for an interview. The arena is fairly empty, and Barry has just about given up when he hears something. The high speed thrumming of rubber against wood can be heard, and if one listens closely, it closely resembles the percussion section of Ravel's Bolero. Barry follows the drumming until he sees a rather short silhouette with arms extended standing by a speed-bag. The sound is coming from that corner, and as the men approach, Akrista "Suicide Girl" Walsh comes into view. Her hair is down, once again partially dyed, but a different scheme from the last time Barry saw her. White hand wraps flash in a blur as the young woman smoothly drills the rubber, a sheen of sweat on her face. Dressed in ripped jeans and a dark gray tank top, Aki is humming along with the beat of her practice, a small smile on her face. She finally pauses, giving the bag one last hard punch, and turns towards Barry.
Akrista: Hey there Barry! How are ya today? Hell of a night wasn't it?
Barry: Indeed it was, Akrista! Congratulation on your win, by the way! I was wondering if you had a couple minutes for me, so I could get your thoughts on a couple developments, and the pay per view?
Aki laughs and nods. She takes a water bottle from on top of the speed bag stand, sprays her face with it and shakes herself dry. The young woman heads over to one of the wooden benches normally used by boxers waiting for equipment, and sits cross-legged on it. Barry motions to the camera man, who begins filming the interview.
Barry: So Akrista, how do you feel about your first win here in the NAW?
Akrista: Pretty damn good. I knew I needed to make an impact, and show this crew that not all the women here need a bodyguard to do their "dirty work". And that's exactly what I did. Patrick Sparkman was no slouch, and he had a couple opportunities to get the win, but he just got a little too distracted with the audience, and in the end, it cost him, just like I knew it would. But Patrick, for all your smack talk, you gave me a hell of a fight, and at the end of the day, that's all you need to earn my respect. Anytime you want a rematch, I'll be happy to oblige. Don't be too hard on yourself, not that that's likely to happen. Heh. You've got talent, and you'll make it far here. We'll probably face each other again down the road. Maybe the outcome will be different.
Barry: I'm not sure he'll appreciate that sentiment, but still, I can't argue with you regarding his ability. What was your favorite moment of the pay-per-view?
Akrista chuckles and drinks some water, before swishing and spitting into a nearby bucket. Resting her chin in her hand, she ponders for a moment, though the answer seems to be obvious.
Akrista: Besides winning my own match, you mean? Probably a tossup between Virgil Keenan putting that ape Drake Knight in a sleeper hold to keep him busy and Cthulhuson putting Kandi Washington on her back for one...two...three.
Akrista slaps her hand against her bench lightly, like a ref counting a pin, with a not-very-nice grin on her face. That fire in her eyes flares up, but Barry seems a little nervous about her calling Drake Knight an ape. However, the woman's answer provides a nice segue...
Barry: Uh...Akrista, I know you're nicknamed "The Suicide Girl", but you may want to keep that in the ring. Drake Knight is NOT someone you want to have focused on you. Neither is Kandi Washington, for that matter. Especially after this whole lawsuit thing...
Akrista barks out a harsh laugh, jumping to her feet and startling Barry a bit. She goes back to work on the speed-bag, hands flying in rhythm at a high rate. While before she was playing classical music, now it just sounds like the rat-a-tat of a machine gun on full auto. The echo builds louder and louder, resounding throughout the space. Barry is silent the whole time, and after 5 minutes of straight pounding the chain holding up the bag snaps as the red ball goes flying through the air. When Aki finally responds, her voice is dripping with venom and hatred.
Akrista: Kandi Washington? Let me tell you something about her. She's a fake, plastic worthless doll. She claims to be a wrestler, yet when she gets her first loss here after her pet gorilla has taken out half her competition, she goes crying to the authorities, her lawyer and the press about "sexual assault". Guess what, girly? In this world, you can get hurt when you get in the ring. It's a risk you take. And trying to call it assault cheapens it for the women who actually HAVE been assaulted in real life. I knew you were a coward and a conniver, Kandi, but I didn't think you'd stoop this low. I almost wish you WOULDN'T stop wrestling. Part of me is thankful that I don't have to listen to the ignorance you spew any more, and part of me wants to kick the ever-living piss out of you. Now, I'm sure you'll go whining about how I threatened you, and it's ruined your life, you need more bodyguards, all that crap.. All I hear when you say that is "Blah, blah, blah, I'm a dirty tramp". You really want to see assault? Step in the ring with me two shows from now, and I'll show you what assault looks like, you bitch.
Spitting on the ground, Akrista shakes her head in frustration. Looking around as if she's just realized where she is, the Mistress of Punk sighs and shakes Barry's hand. Without further ado, she leaves the arena with Barry taken aback by the volcanic anger from the normally calm woman. With a shrug, he turns to the camera man and signals again, this time that the interview is clearly over...
Barry Lincoln is backstage with a camera man, roaming the Energy Center looking for an interview. The arena is fairly empty, and Barry has just about given up when he hears something. The high speed thrumming of rubber against wood can be heard, and if one listens closely, it closely resembles the percussion section of Ravel's Bolero. Barry follows the drumming until he sees a rather short silhouette with arms extended standing by a speed-bag. The sound is coming from that corner, and as the men approach, Akrista "Suicide Girl" Walsh comes into view. Her hair is down, once again partially dyed, but a different scheme from the last time Barry saw her. White hand wraps flash in a blur as the young woman smoothly drills the rubber, a sheen of sweat on her face. Dressed in ripped jeans and a dark gray tank top, Aki is humming along with the beat of her practice, a small smile on her face. She finally pauses, giving the bag one last hard punch, and turns towards Barry.
Akrista: Hey there Barry! How are ya today? Hell of a night wasn't it?
Barry: Indeed it was, Akrista! Congratulation on your win, by the way! I was wondering if you had a couple minutes for me, so I could get your thoughts on a couple developments, and the pay per view?
Aki laughs and nods. She takes a water bottle from on top of the speed bag stand, sprays her face with it and shakes herself dry. The young woman heads over to one of the wooden benches normally used by boxers waiting for equipment, and sits cross-legged on it. Barry motions to the camera man, who begins filming the interview.
Barry: So Akrista, how do you feel about your first win here in the NAW?
Akrista: Pretty damn good. I knew I needed to make an impact, and show this crew that not all the women here need a bodyguard to do their "dirty work". And that's exactly what I did. Patrick Sparkman was no slouch, and he had a couple opportunities to get the win, but he just got a little too distracted with the audience, and in the end, it cost him, just like I knew it would. But Patrick, for all your smack talk, you gave me a hell of a fight, and at the end of the day, that's all you need to earn my respect. Anytime you want a rematch, I'll be happy to oblige. Don't be too hard on yourself, not that that's likely to happen. Heh. You've got talent, and you'll make it far here. We'll probably face each other again down the road. Maybe the outcome will be different.
Barry: I'm not sure he'll appreciate that sentiment, but still, I can't argue with you regarding his ability. What was your favorite moment of the pay-per-view?
Akrista chuckles and drinks some water, before swishing and spitting into a nearby bucket. Resting her chin in her hand, she ponders for a moment, though the answer seems to be obvious.
Akrista: Besides winning my own match, you mean? Probably a tossup between Virgil Keenan putting that ape Drake Knight in a sleeper hold to keep him busy and Cthulhuson putting Kandi Washington on her back for one...two...three.
Akrista slaps her hand against her bench lightly, like a ref counting a pin, with a not-very-nice grin on her face. That fire in her eyes flares up, but Barry seems a little nervous about her calling Drake Knight an ape. However, the woman's answer provides a nice segue...
Barry: Uh...Akrista, I know you're nicknamed "The Suicide Girl", but you may want to keep that in the ring. Drake Knight is NOT someone you want to have focused on you. Neither is Kandi Washington, for that matter. Especially after this whole lawsuit thing...
Akrista barks out a harsh laugh, jumping to her feet and startling Barry a bit. She goes back to work on the speed-bag, hands flying in rhythm at a high rate. While before she was playing classical music, now it just sounds like the rat-a-tat of a machine gun on full auto. The echo builds louder and louder, resounding throughout the space. Barry is silent the whole time, and after 5 minutes of straight pounding the chain holding up the bag snaps as the red ball goes flying through the air. When Aki finally responds, her voice is dripping with venom and hatred.
Akrista: Kandi Washington? Let me tell you something about her. She's a fake, plastic worthless doll. She claims to be a wrestler, yet when she gets her first loss here after her pet gorilla has taken out half her competition, she goes crying to the authorities, her lawyer and the press about "sexual assault". Guess what, girly? In this world, you can get hurt when you get in the ring. It's a risk you take. And trying to call it assault cheapens it for the women who actually HAVE been assaulted in real life. I knew you were a coward and a conniver, Kandi, but I didn't think you'd stoop this low. I almost wish you WOULDN'T stop wrestling. Part of me is thankful that I don't have to listen to the ignorance you spew any more, and part of me wants to kick the ever-living piss out of you. Now, I'm sure you'll go whining about how I threatened you, and it's ruined your life, you need more bodyguards, all that crap.. All I hear when you say that is "Blah, blah, blah, I'm a dirty tramp". You really want to see assault? Step in the ring with me two shows from now, and I'll show you what assault looks like, you bitch.
Spitting on the ground, Akrista shakes her head in frustration. Looking around as if she's just realized where she is, the Mistress of Punk sighs and shakes Barry's hand. Without further ado, she leaves the arena with Barry taken aback by the volcanic anger from the normally calm woman. With a shrug, he turns to the camera man and signals again, this time that the interview is clearly over...