04-04-2024, 11:51 PM
ATB Entertainment
Strader Inc. HQ Houston, Texas
April 3rd, 2024
Harold The Assistantperson (formerly the Cameraperson, who had been the personal cameraman of the Strader family with a crippling addiction to crystal meth and street hookers, but he got off meth and now just eats OxyContins and gets high class escorts) stood outside the soundstage waiting for his boss, Tamika Strader. She was to arrive with her nieces and film a promotional video for their Supreme Championship Wrestling debut. He became Tamika’s personal assistant when she took over as Chief Executive Officer on top of her duties as Chief Operating Officer.
It most likely goes against labour laws, but Tamika gives Harold rewards by covering his escort tabs. She refused to supply his drug habit, though; she wasn’t her father in that regard. He made good money, but he still wore dark brown slacks from Target, a white-collared button-up shirt with little pineapples all over it, and rainbow suspenders.
“Hey, big spenders!”
He gives us a sheepish grin, but in reality he’s probably losing his mind because if anyone was watching him talk out loud to air. Harold can hear the rumble of multiple motorcycles.
“Been a while since we heard that sound, hasn’t it?” He looks at us again, but once again, in reality, he’s talking to thin air.
In the distance Tamika Strader leads the trio of Strader women on her 2015 Indian Scout, with Veronica behind on her left on her old (but new to her) ‘45 Panhead with Cara to the right on her new Softail. It was a cool morning, but being a Cowgirl From Hell was more than a tag team and it was up to Tamika to guide them. The Cowgirls back their bikes up, near the entrance, all have their wheels turned and kickstands down with keys in hand. They all have the bare minimum helmet, Beanie Style, but in their own signature colours.
Harold excitedly approaches them, a folder pulled out from behind his suspenders and extended toward Tamika.
“Good morning, my three favourite women in the world!”
Tamika smirks as she unzips her green leather jacket while Cara comes and stands beside her. Veronica takes her place on the opposite side. Strader women have a knack for lowering a man’s defences and do it subtly. Heads slightly tilted to the right, small grin, eyes locked on the person's eyes, and lean as if standing close. There really is much more to it that will be revealed, but this is a good starting point to go by.
This method always worked on Harold, but they weren’t doing it to manipulate him, but because the family genuinely loved the guy, and it lowered his anxiety.
“Morning, Harold. I’m guessing by the grin you have good news for me.”
“I do! I tracked down a ‘77 Trans Am already greased up like Burt Reynolds himself. And an old Kenworth. But Cara Delivingne says to stop calling her.”
“But that’s her identical hand twin, bruh!”
Veronica leans over and whispers to Tamika as Cara gives the stink eye to Harold for a few seconds.
“... she’s been binging friends…”
“Just don’t let her get a duck and a chicken, ok? (Clears throat) My apologies, Harold. What else?”
“You all will have to play yourselves.”
“I was on Ghost Fighter Boone. Auntie Tee on The Good Wife, I think. We got this!”
“You’re in a good mood… we aren’t going to a Murder Island, are we?”
Veronica feigns a sarcastic laugh.
“Never mind. Ok, we need to start like yesterday. Are we ready?”
“Oh, one last thing! We couldn’t get a basset hound. The local zoo is sending a replacement. No idea what it is, though.”
“Oh, fun! Mystery animal! Let's do this, bruhs!”
Tamika looks up in the sky and shakes her head as Cara and Veronica head inside the studio.
“What has Meghan gotten me into?”
“Koala bear?”
“Ma’am-bruh! Can you give me a ride? My name is Carebear!”
“Yeah, hurry up and get in. I’m Ronnie.”
Carebear gets in the car and they “drive” on and off, and we see a transport truck in the distance, and the CB Radio crackles to life in the car.
“Breaker, breaker! Hey Footlong, where are all the purty girls in Texarkana?”
“Arkansas or Texas, Teebag?”
“Either or, Footlong.”
“Negatory on that, Teebag. We got a job to do. How’s the haul?”
“Ice cold, Footlong.”
“Keep an eye open for any smokey bears. Footlong out.”
Carebear looks at Ronnie with a curious look on her face. Her Koala sucks on a eucalyptus leaf, enjoying life.
“Footlong?”
“Inside joke. So, what are you running from?”
“Arranged Marriage, bruh. Ludvig. Hates America. Wants Europe to take over.”
“Sounds like a friend of the Sheriff and his deputy round these parts. I have some jeans, boots and t-shirts in that bag back there.”
“No shit? For real? You rox my sox! Watching Jimothy for me?”
“Timothy but with a J?”
“Ya bruh, that’s what I’mma saying: Jimothy.”
Carebear accidentally kicks Veronica in the head as she gets into the backseat. Veronica rubs her head and looks into the passenger seat where Jimothy sits.
“So, how do you have Jimothy? I didn’t think they were domesticated in North America.”
“He is my support animal, a classic French Poodle.”
“That’s a Koala Bear.”
“Ya bruh, that’s what I said: French Poodle.”
“Right. Why does he look dead inside?”
Carebear flops into the front seat all changed and Jimothy snuggles into his mamabear.
“He’s seen some shit, bruh. Stuff no French Poodle should ever see.”
Ronnie catches a vehicle in her side-view mirror and looks into the rearview for a better view of the brown Sheriff’s car.
“Shit, the Sheriff Konnie Raab and his deputy Dakon are on us.”
“What’s in the big rig?”
“80,000 lbs of high quality marijuana. Pun intended.”
“Oh, baby… we gotta keep them piggies off the truck!”
“Damn right we do!”
Ronnie punches the gas and the women and their koala bear feel the car pull back and slingshot forward, front end up in the air. The cop lights fire up and the chase is on. Ronnie hits play and “Satisfaction” by the Rolling Stones comes over the speaker, but Carebear shakes her head, reaches into her bra, pulling out a cassette tape. She pops it in and we hear the infamous laugh of Mel B aka Scary Spice.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
“I tells ya what I want, what I really fuckin' want!”
Carebear stands up through the T-Roof and somehow has a potato cannon made with a piece of PVC pipe.
“Load me up, Jimothy!”
Jimothy shoves a bunch of eucalyptus leaves into his mouth, and produces a potato, tosses it under and over on the driver’s side and the potato slides right into the piping. Carebear takes aim and fires it.
CRACKKKKK!!!!
“BULLSEYE, BRUH!”
Ronnie looks in the rearview and sees the potato lodged into the windshield of the cop car, dead centre. She starts to laugh.
“Carebear! We need to distract them!”
“If you want my future, forget my past! If you wanna get with me, better make it fast!”
Carebear lifts her top, flashing the pursuing cops, and it works as the bacon-mobile loses control and crashes into a chestnut tree! D’OH! Carebear drops back down, high fives Ronnie and does an exploding fist bump with Jimothy.
“Nice work! We need to get off the road soon, regroup with Teebag and the weed.”
“Someone should take a tester to, ya know, make sure it’s still good.”
“Yeah, right, quality control, right?”
“‘Zactly!”
A while later Ronnie and the Carebear find themselves at a cheap motel off the Interstate leading into Louisiana. The crickets echo through the swamp on the soundstage behind the road chase one from earlier. Ronnie stretches her arms in the air with a yawn.
“We should catch some sleep, get on the road early.”
“Fo’shizzle, homes. Check on Jimothy for me?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Ronnie walks into the room, walking over to the couch that Carebear turned into a fort with the cushions, pillows and comforters for Jimothy the Koala Bear. Ronnie goes to look in and a demonic sounding chant comes out of the small stoned bear and went away for a couple sharp snorts while snoring.
“That ain’t right.”
Neither Ronnie nor Carebear remember when they fall asleep but they do, and when they wake up, they are sore, and bleeding from their temples, mouths and bruised ribs. They are on their knees, leaning back on their feet that are tied together, same with their hands and bandanas for gags. Carebear looks up and sees the man she was supposed to marry.
“Luddy…”
“Dak-Head, always a pleasure.”
The men have no idea what they have said about being gagged, but Dakon and Ludvig (obviously paid actors and not the real Dakon and Ludvig but very poor parodies of the SCW talent) smile evilly. Dakon removes the bandana, and Ronnie spits at his boots.
“Where’s the boss? I didn’t think your leash was that long.”
“Shut up. We know you’re hauling that grass into Florida. And your new friend here broke my friend’s heart. Right, Carebear?”
“Yeah, totally broken.”
“Your badussy… that good, Carebear?”
“(muffled) it’s like crack, bruh.”
Unbeknownst to Dakon and Ludvig, Jimothy the Koala Bear was in his Rambo cosplay, and ready for war. He pulls out a bow & arrow that is bigger than him. He pulls back after lighting the arrowhead on fire.
THWIPPPPPP!
“AHH DAMNIT!”
Dakon jumps up and down, holding onto the arrow. Jimothy reloads and gets Ludvig in his thigh, just missing the family jewels. Jimothy struts over to Carebear and Ronnie, cutting them loose. Ronnie fist bumps the Koala Bear.
“Good work, Jim!”
“Jimothy!”
“Right, sorry… with a J. Jimothy. Got it.”
“Tie’em up, little bruh. What are we gonna do with these two?”
“What are you supposed to do when a crime happens? Call the police.”
“(Laughing) Git’er done!”
A little while later, Sheriff Konnie Raab (again, a bad actor doing a terrible parody and not even close to the real Konrad Raab) shows up, alone, his flashlight illuminating where in the parking lot his lackeys had tried to take Ronnie and the Carebear. He steps into a trap and is hanging upside down, trying to swing up to his feet. Ronnie and Carebear appear out of the shadows, and he looks angry.
“Let me down from here now!”
“Not until you tell me how you found out about the weed?”
“I don’t care about the weed. I was coming after that one to bring back to Ludvig.”
“Well, shit.”
“You give me her and I’ll forget about the weed.”
“That’s quite an offer…”
Ronnie looks at Carebear, who smiles at her, hoping she won’t. Ronnie then looks down at Jimothy and sees flames dancing behind his glazed eyes and she steps back.
“I'd rather lose the weed than give an innocent woman to creeps like you! Besides, you aren’t even really Konnie Raab, are you?”
“He’s not?!”
“Nope, he’s actually a clone of…”
Ronnie pulls of the mask to reveal the clone of….
“Joseph Stallin!”
“He doesn’t look like Joe from Friends, bruh. You sure?”
Ronnie shakes her head, laughing.
“(Still laughing) Cut, cut! I can’t do it. This is ridiculous!”
“It’s like someone hijacked my brain to write this script.”
“Just do your thing girls, camera is rolling.”
The lights come up part way and the green screen shows its true colour, green (what, think it be blue?)Veronica sits down on the edge of the soundstage, and Cara stands behind her, Jimothy the Koala Bear sitting in her arms.
“Supreme Championship Wrestling… behind me is my sister, Cara, and I’m Veronica. We are the- - -”
“- - - Cowgirls From Hell, bruhs.”
“Some of you may know us, and unfortunately, it’s probably for something that isn’t about wrestling. I’m labelled a piece of trash because I survived the infamous OCW Purge, and that my father is Matthew The Raven Knox. And I mean, I get it, as good as he is, well, he isn’t afraid to tell us how good he is, and that just gets old.”
“I’mma known for edibles, my love of men, and hitting on Matthew Knox.”
“We have different dads, by the way. We may be a southern rooted family, but it is Texas, not Alabama or West Virginia. We should be known for undefeated streaks, setting championship records, and we brought singles titles back to the family. Our grandfather was the last Strader to hold a singles title until we came around and was our last world champion. Our mom and aunt were known for tag team wrestling, taking names and titles wherever the Cowgirls From Hell ended up.”
“The idea was presented to me and Carebear to become the next Cowgirls From Hell. Those are large snakeskin boots to fill. It’s a heavy responsibility to take on, but if there is anything that makes a Strader better, it is putting the pressure on us. I thrive on pressure. So does Carebear.”
“It’s very true. I like when a guy applies pressure right on- - -”
“- - - Cara! Not that kinda pressure. Pressure like we have to perform well every match.”
Cara nods and slips Jimothy a small branch of eucalyptus leaves. Veronica has no idea where she pulled that from and didn’t want to either.
“This match against The European Fiery Nation is the debut match of the new Cowgirls. Dakon Theron and Ludvig Eriksson. From what I can tell, they are lackeys to Konrad Raab. Now the Dakon actor we hired for this thing is nowhere near who Dakon really is. I’m not going to claim we know everything about you. What we do know is you had the dream of being SCW’s first Norwegian born wrestler, which you pulled off. Good on you. We also know you were a punching bag for your leader, and you have become his cuck, backing Raab up when he uses his safe word.”
“Don’t forget Ludvig. He’s kinda cute, bruh.”
“Right, Ludvig. The guy who might actually believe he’s God’s gift to women. But you guys don’t make sense. Trained in MMA, but decided professional wrestling was a better route. MMA pays way better than this gig. You are pro-Europe, yet you both reside in the States and have a wrestling school in Germany. Those logistics have to be a pain in the ass with permanent jet-lag. Plus, both of you obviously have your lips glued to the buttcheeks of Konrad Raab.”
“The only reason we are glad to be facing you is because you are an actual tag team. Not some random pairing, but a team that has experience, or at least that’s how you guys come off. So we look at it like we are going back to school, but by the end of the match, me and Carebear will become the teachers.”
Veronica stands up, and puts her arm around her sister's shoulder and Jimothy climbs up sitting between their heads, just munching away on his eucalyptus leaves. The sister’s share the infamous family sneer.
“There’s something I’m only going to tell you once…”
“Shhh… you hear that bruhs?”
The green screen fires up and we see the Ghost Rider horse galloping, and the Ghost Rider motorcycle riding beside it with the new CFH patch centre of the screen and also spitting fire from the skull.
“God forgives.”
“We don’t.”
~ END TRANSMISSION ~
Strader Inc. HQ Houston, Texas
April 3rd, 2024
Harold The Assistantperson (formerly the Cameraperson, who had been the personal cameraman of the Strader family with a crippling addiction to crystal meth and street hookers, but he got off meth and now just eats OxyContins and gets high class escorts) stood outside the soundstage waiting for his boss, Tamika Strader. She was to arrive with her nieces and film a promotional video for their Supreme Championship Wrestling debut. He became Tamika’s personal assistant when she took over as Chief Executive Officer on top of her duties as Chief Operating Officer.
It most likely goes against labour laws, but Tamika gives Harold rewards by covering his escort tabs. She refused to supply his drug habit, though; she wasn’t her father in that regard. He made good money, but he still wore dark brown slacks from Target, a white-collared button-up shirt with little pineapples all over it, and rainbow suspenders.
“Hey, big spenders!”
He gives us a sheepish grin, but in reality he’s probably losing his mind because if anyone was watching him talk out loud to air. Harold can hear the rumble of multiple motorcycles.
“Been a while since we heard that sound, hasn’t it?” He looks at us again, but once again, in reality, he’s talking to thin air.
In the distance Tamika Strader leads the trio of Strader women on her 2015 Indian Scout, with Veronica behind on her left on her old (but new to her) ‘45 Panhead with Cara to the right on her new Softail. It was a cool morning, but being a Cowgirl From Hell was more than a tag team and it was up to Tamika to guide them. The Cowgirls back their bikes up, near the entrance, all have their wheels turned and kickstands down with keys in hand. They all have the bare minimum helmet, Beanie Style, but in their own signature colours.
Harold excitedly approaches them, a folder pulled out from behind his suspenders and extended toward Tamika.
“Good morning, my three favourite women in the world!”
Tamika smirks as she unzips her green leather jacket while Cara comes and stands beside her. Veronica takes her place on the opposite side. Strader women have a knack for lowering a man’s defences and do it subtly. Heads slightly tilted to the right, small grin, eyes locked on the person's eyes, and lean as if standing close. There really is much more to it that will be revealed, but this is a good starting point to go by.
This method always worked on Harold, but they weren’t doing it to manipulate him, but because the family genuinely loved the guy, and it lowered his anxiety.
“Morning, Harold. I’m guessing by the grin you have good news for me.”
“I do! I tracked down a ‘77 Trans Am already greased up like Burt Reynolds himself. And an old Kenworth. But Cara Delivingne says to stop calling her.”
“But that’s her identical hand twin, bruh!”
Veronica leans over and whispers to Tamika as Cara gives the stink eye to Harold for a few seconds.
“... she’s been binging friends…”
“Just don’t let her get a duck and a chicken, ok? (Clears throat) My apologies, Harold. What else?”
“You all will have to play yourselves.”
“I was on Ghost Fighter Boone. Auntie Tee on The Good Wife, I think. We got this!”
“You’re in a good mood… we aren’t going to a Murder Island, are we?”
Veronica feigns a sarcastic laugh.
“Never mind. Ok, we need to start like yesterday. Are we ready?”
“Oh, one last thing! We couldn’t get a basset hound. The local zoo is sending a replacement. No idea what it is, though.”
“Oh, fun! Mystery animal! Let's do this, bruhs!”
Tamika looks up in the sky and shakes her head as Cara and Veronica head inside the studio.
“What has Meghan gotten me into?”
~ START TRANSMISSION ~
Through the magic of green screens and giant fans, Veronica Strader appears driving a 1977 Pontiac Trans Am, gold and black just like the Bandit. The fans blow back her hair with the T-Roof out when she is stopped by a black-haired biker girl in the road wearing a very revealing Guns and Roses style wedding dress. Is she holding a… “Koala bear?”
“Ma’am-bruh! Can you give me a ride? My name is Carebear!”
“Yeah, hurry up and get in. I’m Ronnie.”
Carebear gets in the car and they “drive” on and off, and we see a transport truck in the distance, and the CB Radio crackles to life in the car.
“Breaker, breaker! Hey Footlong, where are all the purty girls in Texarkana?”
“Arkansas or Texas, Teebag?”
“Either or, Footlong.”
“Negatory on that, Teebag. We got a job to do. How’s the haul?”
“Ice cold, Footlong.”
“Keep an eye open for any smokey bears. Footlong out.”
Carebear looks at Ronnie with a curious look on her face. Her Koala sucks on a eucalyptus leaf, enjoying life.
“Footlong?”
“Inside joke. So, what are you running from?”
“Arranged Marriage, bruh. Ludvig. Hates America. Wants Europe to take over.”
“Sounds like a friend of the Sheriff and his deputy round these parts. I have some jeans, boots and t-shirts in that bag back there.”
“No shit? For real? You rox my sox! Watching Jimothy for me?”
“Timothy but with a J?”
“Ya bruh, that’s what I’mma saying: Jimothy.”
Carebear accidentally kicks Veronica in the head as she gets into the backseat. Veronica rubs her head and looks into the passenger seat where Jimothy sits.
“So, how do you have Jimothy? I didn’t think they were domesticated in North America.”
“He is my support animal, a classic French Poodle.”
“That’s a Koala Bear.”
“Ya bruh, that’s what I said: French Poodle.”
“Right. Why does he look dead inside?”
Carebear flops into the front seat all changed and Jimothy snuggles into his mamabear.
“He’s seen some shit, bruh. Stuff no French Poodle should ever see.”
Ronnie catches a vehicle in her side-view mirror and looks into the rearview for a better view of the brown Sheriff’s car.
“Shit, the Sheriff Konnie Raab and his deputy Dakon are on us.”
“What’s in the big rig?”
“80,000 lbs of high quality marijuana. Pun intended.”
“Oh, baby… we gotta keep them piggies off the truck!”
“Damn right we do!”
Ronnie punches the gas and the women and their koala bear feel the car pull back and slingshot forward, front end up in the air. The cop lights fire up and the chase is on. Ronnie hits play and “Satisfaction” by the Rolling Stones comes over the speaker, but Carebear shakes her head, reaches into her bra, pulling out a cassette tape. She pops it in and we hear the infamous laugh of Mel B aka Scary Spice.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
“I tells ya what I want, what I really fuckin' want!”
Carebear stands up through the T-Roof and somehow has a potato cannon made with a piece of PVC pipe.
“Load me up, Jimothy!”
Jimothy shoves a bunch of eucalyptus leaves into his mouth, and produces a potato, tosses it under and over on the driver’s side and the potato slides right into the piping. Carebear takes aim and fires it.
CRACKKKKK!!!!
“BULLSEYE, BRUH!”
Ronnie looks in the rearview and sees the potato lodged into the windshield of the cop car, dead centre. She starts to laugh.
“Carebear! We need to distract them!”
“If you want my future, forget my past! If you wanna get with me, better make it fast!”
Carebear lifts her top, flashing the pursuing cops, and it works as the bacon-mobile loses control and crashes into a chestnut tree! D’OH! Carebear drops back down, high fives Ronnie and does an exploding fist bump with Jimothy.
“Nice work! We need to get off the road soon, regroup with Teebag and the weed.”
“Someone should take a tester to, ya know, make sure it’s still good.”
“Yeah, right, quality control, right?”
“‘Zactly!”
A while later Ronnie and the Carebear find themselves at a cheap motel off the Interstate leading into Louisiana. The crickets echo through the swamp on the soundstage behind the road chase one from earlier. Ronnie stretches her arms in the air with a yawn.
“We should catch some sleep, get on the road early.”
“Fo’shizzle, homes. Check on Jimothy for me?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Ronnie walks into the room, walking over to the couch that Carebear turned into a fort with the cushions, pillows and comforters for Jimothy the Koala Bear. Ronnie goes to look in and a demonic sounding chant comes out of the small stoned bear and went away for a couple sharp snorts while snoring.
“That ain’t right.”
Neither Ronnie nor Carebear remember when they fall asleep but they do, and when they wake up, they are sore, and bleeding from their temples, mouths and bruised ribs. They are on their knees, leaning back on their feet that are tied together, same with their hands and bandanas for gags. Carebear looks up and sees the man she was supposed to marry.
“Luddy…”
“Dak-Head, always a pleasure.”
The men have no idea what they have said about being gagged, but Dakon and Ludvig (obviously paid actors and not the real Dakon and Ludvig but very poor parodies of the SCW talent) smile evilly. Dakon removes the bandana, and Ronnie spits at his boots.
“Where’s the boss? I didn’t think your leash was that long.”
“Shut up. We know you’re hauling that grass into Florida. And your new friend here broke my friend’s heart. Right, Carebear?”
“Yeah, totally broken.”
“Your badussy… that good, Carebear?”
“(muffled) it’s like crack, bruh.”
Unbeknownst to Dakon and Ludvig, Jimothy the Koala Bear was in his Rambo cosplay, and ready for war. He pulls out a bow & arrow that is bigger than him. He pulls back after lighting the arrowhead on fire.
THWIPPPPPP!
“AHH DAMNIT!”
Dakon jumps up and down, holding onto the arrow. Jimothy reloads and gets Ludvig in his thigh, just missing the family jewels. Jimothy struts over to Carebear and Ronnie, cutting them loose. Ronnie fist bumps the Koala Bear.
“Good work, Jim!”
“Jimothy!”
“Right, sorry… with a J. Jimothy. Got it.”
“Tie’em up, little bruh. What are we gonna do with these two?”
“What are you supposed to do when a crime happens? Call the police.”
“(Laughing) Git’er done!”
A little while later, Sheriff Konnie Raab (again, a bad actor doing a terrible parody and not even close to the real Konrad Raab) shows up, alone, his flashlight illuminating where in the parking lot his lackeys had tried to take Ronnie and the Carebear. He steps into a trap and is hanging upside down, trying to swing up to his feet. Ronnie and Carebear appear out of the shadows, and he looks angry.
“Let me down from here now!”
“Not until you tell me how you found out about the weed?”
“I don’t care about the weed. I was coming after that one to bring back to Ludvig.”
“Well, shit.”
“You give me her and I’ll forget about the weed.”
“That’s quite an offer…”
Ronnie looks at Carebear, who smiles at her, hoping she won’t. Ronnie then looks down at Jimothy and sees flames dancing behind his glazed eyes and she steps back.
“I'd rather lose the weed than give an innocent woman to creeps like you! Besides, you aren’t even really Konnie Raab, are you?”
“He’s not?!”
“Nope, he’s actually a clone of…”
Ronnie pulls of the mask to reveal the clone of….
“Joseph Stallin!”
“He doesn’t look like Joe from Friends, bruh. You sure?”
Ronnie shakes her head, laughing.
“(Still laughing) Cut, cut! I can’t do it. This is ridiculous!”
“It’s like someone hijacked my brain to write this script.”
“Just do your thing girls, camera is rolling.”
The lights come up part way and the green screen shows its true colour, green (what, think it be blue?)Veronica sits down on the edge of the soundstage, and Cara stands behind her, Jimothy the Koala Bear sitting in her arms.
“Supreme Championship Wrestling… behind me is my sister, Cara, and I’m Veronica. We are the- - -”
“- - - Cowgirls From Hell, bruhs.”
“Some of you may know us, and unfortunately, it’s probably for something that isn’t about wrestling. I’m labelled a piece of trash because I survived the infamous OCW Purge, and that my father is Matthew The Raven Knox. And I mean, I get it, as good as he is, well, he isn’t afraid to tell us how good he is, and that just gets old.”
“I’mma known for edibles, my love of men, and hitting on Matthew Knox.”
“We have different dads, by the way. We may be a southern rooted family, but it is Texas, not Alabama or West Virginia. We should be known for undefeated streaks, setting championship records, and we brought singles titles back to the family. Our grandfather was the last Strader to hold a singles title until we came around and was our last world champion. Our mom and aunt were known for tag team wrestling, taking names and titles wherever the Cowgirls From Hell ended up.”
“The idea was presented to me and Carebear to become the next Cowgirls From Hell. Those are large snakeskin boots to fill. It’s a heavy responsibility to take on, but if there is anything that makes a Strader better, it is putting the pressure on us. I thrive on pressure. So does Carebear.”
“It’s very true. I like when a guy applies pressure right on- - -”
“- - - Cara! Not that kinda pressure. Pressure like we have to perform well every match.”
Cara nods and slips Jimothy a small branch of eucalyptus leaves. Veronica has no idea where she pulled that from and didn’t want to either.
“This match against The European Fiery Nation is the debut match of the new Cowgirls. Dakon Theron and Ludvig Eriksson. From what I can tell, they are lackeys to Konrad Raab. Now the Dakon actor we hired for this thing is nowhere near who Dakon really is. I’m not going to claim we know everything about you. What we do know is you had the dream of being SCW’s first Norwegian born wrestler, which you pulled off. Good on you. We also know you were a punching bag for your leader, and you have become his cuck, backing Raab up when he uses his safe word.”
“Don’t forget Ludvig. He’s kinda cute, bruh.”
“Right, Ludvig. The guy who might actually believe he’s God’s gift to women. But you guys don’t make sense. Trained in MMA, but decided professional wrestling was a better route. MMA pays way better than this gig. You are pro-Europe, yet you both reside in the States and have a wrestling school in Germany. Those logistics have to be a pain in the ass with permanent jet-lag. Plus, both of you obviously have your lips glued to the buttcheeks of Konrad Raab.”
“The only reason we are glad to be facing you is because you are an actual tag team. Not some random pairing, but a team that has experience, or at least that’s how you guys come off. So we look at it like we are going back to school, but by the end of the match, me and Carebear will become the teachers.”
Veronica stands up, and puts her arm around her sister's shoulder and Jimothy climbs up sitting between their heads, just munching away on his eucalyptus leaves. The sister’s share the infamous family sneer.
“There’s something I’m only going to tell you once…”
“Shhh… you hear that bruhs?”
The green screen fires up and we see the Ghost Rider horse galloping, and the Ghost Rider motorcycle riding beside it with the new CFH patch centre of the screen and also spitting fire from the skull.
“God forgives.”
“We don’t.”
~ END TRANSMISSION ~