Bite my Clit!!
Bite My Clit!!

The Queen of Wrestling

Laura

Record

Achievments

People Used

People Mentioned

RP #

2-1-0

Won gold medals in Sydney Olympics, track star at her university Champion

Laura, a special guest

Xander Sterling, T. Jay, Urge, WolfDog, Sean Dahmer, Outlaw, Tiffany Storm

One/1

(We fade in to find ourselves just outside of a Hyatt in Detroit. This must be a stopover city or something because hey, let's face it, is there ANY other reason that NEW would be in such a sh*tty place as the state of Michigan? From what we see, there's a feminine figure stepping out of the passenger's side of a white BMW. She is wearing a ong, red dress and has on black high-heeled shoes. She wears no nylons or socks, just bare legs---easy guys! Her hair is tied back tightly into one massive braid. I say it's tied tightly because it's like her scalp is pulled back, revealing, giving a really nasty expression on her face. As she steps out from the vehicle, we see she has a blue tote bag over her right shoulder and is looking just pissed off as a "mutha!" As soon as her feet hit the ground, we see the BMW's trunk pop open. The female heads over to the trunk and starts digging around in it. We see inside the trunk and see there are two red suitcases with black lining and black handles. As the woman's hand reaches in, no nail polish on the fingers, there's a second set of hands that reaches in as well. It turns out that these hands belong to a bellhop. As the camera view backs out----uh, oh----we see it's Laura. This is really bad news. Not that she's as b*tchy as before, but I mean she is REALLY pissed off! She holds a scowl upon her mouth and her eyebrows are narrowed. As Laura is able to remove the first suitcase from the trunk she places it on the ground, where upon the bellhop picks it up.)

Laura: Don't touch that.

(Laura quickly picks the suitcase up with her left hand, but now she seems to struggle with the tote bag, still over her right shoulder. The bellhop courtesly goes over to remove the tote bag from her shoulder, but Laura doesn't take kindly to it.)

Laura: Don't jerk me around!

Bellhop: I'm just trying to help.

Laura: Help someone else.

(After a minute of struggling, somehow, some way, Laura has managed to get both suitcases into her hands still maintaining the tote on her right shoulder. She makes a move towards the entrance door as her vehicle pulls away. Yet, as she makes a step forward, someone cuts in front of her. It's a little kid, about eight years old, wearing a Bobby Higginson Detroit Tigers jersey, jean shorts, and Reeboks.)

Laura: GET THE F*CK OUTTA MY WAY!!

(The kid, in shock, turns around, but doesn't move. Laura looks at him, wanting him to move, impatiently. As the kid keeps standing there, Laura makes direct eye contact with him.)

Laura: MOVE!!

(Laura then goes so far as to stick her right foot out and actually KICK the kid in the *ss, soccer-style, and out of the way! What a jerk! She enters into the building and throws her stuff on the ground, both suitcases and the tote. She heads for the front desk, and our scene fades out and then back in again. We now find ourselves in Laura's hotel room. Her stuff is now on the what would be, to us, the bed on the left side of the room. The bed on the right side has nothing on it, just the sheets and pillows you would normally find. Between the beds rests a set of drawers with a clock on it and a light hanging just above it on the wall. Laura enters into the room from the main door, tossing the room keycard onto a small table near the entrance. With Laura coming into the room, our angle changes and we now see a TV set resting on large stand. To the left of the stand is a desk with the standard hotel fare on it, a lamp, a room service menu, comment cards, TV lineup card, HBO movie schedule and even a pen. Under the desk rests a mini-bar,unopened. On the right of the TV and it's stand is the same table Laura's keycard is now on, as well as another lamp and the TV remote. Laura flings herself on the bed and her face turns beet red....not good)

Laura: This is the stupidest trip I've ever gone on. I'm sorry, but this was a goddamn waste of time. What the Hell happened!? (her voice hits a high note with that last sentence as she gets up and heads over to the table closer to the door) I LOST!? To Xander Sterling!? HOW!!?? IT'S BULLSH*T!! (Laura picks up the lamp on the table and just chucks it with all her strength towards the wall behind her bed, smashing it to bits and pieces. Her hair is starting to become loosened from it's "grip" and her eyes widen) This whole federation is corrupt. Allowing that pile of sh*t to keep that belt. THAT IS MY TITLE!! They book a 3-way to keep it off me. I KNOW that's the case. I KNOW it! Let me say this--(the camera goes in for a closeup) Xander, you d*ckless insult to men everywhere, I want a rematch, and I'm gonna get it. It's going to be "IronPerson." It's going to last one hour, and it's going to down AFTER a future BloodZone. They won't let us have a full hour on TV, so I told them to give it to us AFTER the show is over and those f*ckers are out of the stands. Let's see how you hold up in my world, no T. Jay allowed. (The view now backs up as Laura heads over to the desk in the room) Everyone here, they pushed me over the line. "'X" is the man'" they say. "'No problems for "X" defending the belt.'" I barely get any respect as it is. (then, with a high-pitched, almost whiny-like voice)

WHERE IS MY ATTENTION!?

Is everyone that blind they can't notice me??? I'm getting wind I can have a shot at a different title. Well, I don't WANT a different title. I want the Featherweight Title. That belt was made for me, I'm winning it. I want no other goddamned piece of sh*t title other than the "big belt." If I can't have that yet then I say "Go to Hell." I'm just as good as anyone else around here. Jesus F*ckin' Christ!! Urge? He'd cave to me like water-bearing roof. Don't believe me? Put his *ss in the ring with me. Wolfdog? I'd SMOKE YOUR *SS! I'd be raking in the (finger quotes) "mad props" and be getting phat crediblity for waxing his tooshie all over the ring like it was all scuffed from a night of dancing. Don't believe me? Put his *ss in the ring with me. People are starting to hoot and hollar about Sean Dahmer. What A JOKE!

HELLO, I'M HERE!! TALK ABOUT THE REAL STAR, ME, LAURA!!

Not some new, punk-*ss whino albino. His *ss would be toast if he ever nutted up to actually face me. Don't belive me? Put *ss in the ring with me. How about Outlaw. Here's someone I don't even waste my precious time with. He's a hick, it's obvious he's never had sex outside his own family tree. He'd be lucky to go 10 minutes with me. Don't believe me? Put his *ss in the ring with me. And how about that puny retarded Tiffany Storm? Can't say a sentence without making an analogy to something. It's always gotta be "this is as stupid as " To steal your style, if I wanted pop culture I'd read People Magazine, okay? You're here to talk about whooping up on people and all I know is that your talk couldn't hold up Victoria's Secret bra. Oops, there I go with the pop culture again. Excuse me for being a Canadian with brain meningitis. Everyone here is a bandwagon jumper. First off it was with Vierra, now it's happening again with Storm. "'OH, she's good! We're fans.'" (gives a thumbs-up with an extremely sarcastic smile) If ANYONE dares try doing that when accomplishments here occur, I will piss right on them. You fans are *ssholes, everyone involved in this federation outside of my is a d*ckwad. I say (in an octave so high-pitched that could very well break a whole HOUSE made of glass)

F*CK ALL Y'ALL!!!

(Laura's hair starts falling in front of face now, as few strands as it may be, but still enough to irritate her to cause her to toss her head to get it away.)

Everyone here is bunch of whiny little b*tches. Let's have something new to whine about. Me, Laura. When the best wrestlers you have have dark hair filled and oozing with grease, oil and dandruff, and fans CHEER that, that's when you know you have problems. Everyone watching this at home can absolutely bite my clit. THAT'S how little I appreciate any damn person trying to help me out. I am Laura, I do what I want when I want because I CAN!! No one here can think for themselves, and for that I say you all can kiss my white orange-scented ass. You people make me want to put a sawed off shotgun to my head and pull the trigger. I'd rather be blown away with a rocket fired at point-blank than have to put up with the lamebrains around here, yet I'm going to be dumb enough to stay. Imagine that. Now, since I won't kill myself, I'll do the next best thing that will allow myself to look at this federation with some sanity.

(Laura bends down and opens up the mini-bar. From inside she pulls out a small bottle with a wide base and long, thin neck. Our cameras grab a close-up of the bottle and we see that it is French Courvoisier! Laura pops the top off the bottle, but now has the cork to worry about. Sure enough, as our camera views backs out to where it has been before during this time, we see Laura reaching in to the mini-bar and getting, yup, a corkscrew. After fiddling with the bottle, she manages to release the cork, chucking the screw and cork aside. She doesn't grab a glass or anything, she just tips her head back and starts-----OH SH*T!! She's chugging it (for lack of a better phrase)! Damn, girl! Well, she IS 21, so it IS legal. We close up on the bottle as our scene fades out and then back in. Now, it is morning, Laura sprawled out face down on the floor, most likely passed out, her bottle of Courvoisier lying next to her, empty. We bring the view in close so we see Laura's head, mouth closed, eyes closed. After a couple seconds a new figure enters the screen on the right-hand side. It appears to be a towel. Yes, a towel.)

Voice: DON'T FORGET TO BRING A TOWEL!

(As the figure completely enters the screen----oh----my----lord! South Park fans, we have a TOWELIE sighting! Yes, a plush Towelie is now standing next to Laura's head. The cameras move away from the close up back to the "regular view" for the scene and we see holding on to Towelie is a red-hot...well....red-head! This would happen to be Laura's friend from college, Janice. Now, Janice isn't too bright, she's only at school because she can play basketball at an All-American level. Back to the scene, Janice, sitting face down on her bed, is wearing plaid pajamas, is barefooted, her red hair sort of a mess. Obviously she has just woken up, but she doesn't look bothered, she just has a big smile on her face, sort of laughing even. She's apparently having fun with this. Laura begins to stir, moving a bit, turning her head in the direction of Towelie.)

Laura: OOOHHHH my HEAD! (she grimaces as she puts her right hand up to her head as she turns on her left side. She speaks woozily, still out of it I guess) What's going on? (notices Towelie) What the...?

Towelie: YOU'RE STUPID!

Laura: (as Janice laughs) Not cool. What happened?

Janice: Ya drank yaself silly last night! (chuckles as she drops Towelie on the bed and helps Laura up by outstrecthing her arms over the end of the bed.) Here---you feeling better?

(Laura gets to her knees, but that's all. Why? Because as soon as she gets that far---she vomits on the floor. Janice is grossed out, Laura doesn't seem to fully comprehend yet what's going on. Janice sits up on the bed as Laura tries to regain her senses, maybe it's me, but this would probably be a good time for this scene altogether to end. We fade out.)

Laura
..::Disclaimer::..
This layout is done by Dominique L. and Tiffany S. for the e-wrestler Laura. We are not affiliated with Jessica Alba or Fox networks, so please no lawsuits--LOL. Do not steal this layout because it is not yours so get your own. If you find the contents in this rp offensive then i suggest you take your mouse and point that little arrow to the "X" in the upper right hand corner and click it..then BITE MY CLIT!!
..::End Disclaimer::..
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