Leather and Lace? OR Dominatrix and Blonde Prostitutes?




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The scene opens up with John laying in a hospital bed, half drugged up and awake.

Irons Thinking: That big ugly goose tossed me over the top rope. It seems by biggest rival ended up being the one that eliminated me from that match. Damn. My neck hurts like a son of a bitch. But itís going to take more than a neck sprain to keep me down. Damn! Another title shot down the drain. Well, thereíll be other days to get it. Like the old saying goes: live to fight another day. Ah, it never ends. Maybe my hype is getting outdated. I mean, fuckÖ.here I am pushing my mid forties and struggle to get out of bed in the mornings. Some days I curse my own father for being such a large man. Though he died shortly after forty before I was born. Ma was the only one around to keep me in line and no male father figure was a bitch growing up. Especially in the streets of Detroit in the sixties and the seventies. I have to take that damn medication again. Itís the closest thing to legal methamphetamines as Iíll get. It knocks the pain out so I donít feel the joint, and muscle aches so much. But on the bright side at least I can still stand. Thatís the main thing. How the hell Iíve lasted this long is beyond me, but I ainít about to let those damn fools know it. They can talk all they want about how Iím a has been or a never was all they want. I still have the numbers to back me up. Thereís no denying that. Iíve ended more careers in this company than anyone elseÖ..with the exception of Grinder. He has all the fun firing people. Though I couldnít help but smile when he held that press conference announcing the weekly firings regarding Shane West. I bet that smug son of a bitch wasnít smiling that day. I have to wonder what it is about people that get them that far. I mean, unless you literally just donít show up for a match, or you go out there half assed and job to someone so badly that G has to fire you. Fuck. What a waste of time and money. I hope he at least got his money back after wasting it on the poor sons of bitches. Hey! Thereís an idea. It should be in the contract that any money you earn will have to be given back upon termination. Imagine the legal fees they could win with that one. Take random a random Joe, hire him, and letís say he does nothing so fire him. Letís also say that he refuses to pay the money heís earned back. Grinder and Al could sue the bitch faster than you can say that O.Jís guilty, and even sue the family as well.

But thatís just me. Now my only problem is getting up off this medical bed. I donít give a flying screwball if they say Iím ready to go or not. Iíve got major training to do. I could have sworn I heard Gothís voice telling me that heís facing Weck this week for the Global title, and Iíve got a tag match with Fang against Leather and Lace for the tag belts. Well good for him. I hope he kicks the shit out of that crybaby son of a bitch. Wait a sec here. Who the hell is Leather and Lace? Did I miss something here, or am I just not paying attention anymore? Who the hell is Leather, and who the name of the holy son is Lace? New guys? Or a formation of someone else? Damn it I canít remember. Iím not sure what makes me more upset: the fact that I donít know who Leather and Lace are, or if I canít remember. Either way theyíre not winning this match. Disasterpiece is long overdue for a win. Wait a God damn second, the titles are on the line? I could have sworn that bearded lady and that idiot Darcy were the tag champs. Where the hell have I been? Man, I really must be out of touch of things. Iíve been concentrating on winning the Global and havenít been paying attention to the rest of the roster. I used to enjoy keeping on top of things. Like when Jack Faust came to the GWA, or when Smiling Jack turned out to be Lady Ashe, or When Darcy Dynamite won the Global Championship. Wait, Darcy never won the Global, what the hell am I thinking? Okay now I know Iím screwed up. I just thought that Darcy actually good enough to win such a prestigious title. Okay, no more happy pills for me, I need to get up.

John musters up energy and crawls out of the bed, with heart monitor pads and IV inlets popping off his gigantic body.


John Thinking: OH DAMN THAT HURTS! How in the hell can something that looks so minor be so bad? Enough of this shit, Iím heading back to the Hotel.

John walks out of the room, with his ass showing through a hospital gown. He walks down the hall and sees a young red headed nurse walking towards him, which to Johnís demise doesnít seem too happy to see him. Nurse (Greek accent): You are not supposed to be out of bed Mister Irons. Is everything alright?

Irons Thinking: Who the hell does she think she is? Like sheís gonna stop meÖ.sheís at least two hundred and ninety pounds lighter than me, and a good two and a half feet shorter than me.

John: Iím going back to my hotel. Thanks for the crappy food.

Nurse: (Greek Accent) No, you will go back to bed. You are injured. Please do as I ask, or I will have to call Oedipus.

Irons Thinking: Bring it on, I donít give a shit about this place.

John: Get lost lady.

John begins to walk past the nurse when he hears the nurse say something in Greek. John shrugs it off and keeps walking as he sees a small stature of a man resembling Barney Fife walk around the corner.

Irons Thinking: What the hell? Is this Oedipus?

John: You must be Oedipus.

Security Guard: (American Bronx accent) Yeah, an you mus be da tall patient tryin ta leave ba fore da doc can see yas.

Irons Thinking: Thatís me, what about it short fry?

John: Yeah thatíd be me. Whatís with the accent? I thought you were Greek?

Oedipus: My Mudder was American and my Fah-dah was Greek. But nuff of this short talk, back ta bed youse!

John: WhateverÖSee ya later kid.

John takes a step, and Oedipus the security guard steps in front of him.

Irons Thinking: What the hell? Does this kid have a death wish or something?

John: You donít wanna do that.

Oedipus: Itís like I told yas, I canít allow ya ta leave big man. Now get ya back in yer bed please.

Irons Thinking: Did he just say please? What in the Blue hell is going on here?

John: WellÖ..since you put it that wayÖÖNO.

John raises his hand forwards to grab the guard by the shirt, but is met with a taser. John begins to convulse a little bit, and looks at the guard.

Irons Thinking: Oh shit.

The scene fades out, and re-fades back in showing John in the same bed, but this time heís restrained with leather straps.

Irons Thinking: Oh, GodÖ.what the hell happened. WaitÖam IÖaw man it did happen! That wasnít a damn dream! WhaÖAre these straps? Who in the hell do these people think they are?! They have no idea who the hell theyíre screwing with. I am John Friggin Irons! HowÖ.how in theÖ.damnÖthis might take a few minutes.

John begins to try and undo the leather restraints on him. After a few moments he manages to get loose and begins to un-strap himself from the bed. He gets up and begins to walk towards the door. He turns the knob, but it wonít open.

Irons Thinking: What the hell!? Donít friggin tell me this!

John takes a few steps back, then charges at the door, leaving a huge dent in it. He cracks his neck, gets back up and tries it again. This time the door busts open and John is out of his room. He takes off down the hall at full speed, ass hanging out and all. He zooms by the nurses station, as the same nurse calls for Oedipus. Irons, anticipating the small man again readies himself for a clothesline just as the small man runs out from the corner. John hits him with a clothesline from hell, and continues running. He turns the corner and sees a dead end. He goes as far as the window and peers out.

Irons Thinking: Damn thatís a long ways down. I must be on the top floor of this thing. Better take the elevator.

John runs back over to the elevator and presses a button. After a moment it opens and he steps inside. He looks at the buttons and presses the one with a star next to it. The door closes.

Irons Thinking: Damn it! I forgot to look for my clothes! Ah no matterÖ.

John: So Iím in yet another tag match. Yippy. I donít know who this leather and lace are, but when I find out, theyíre going to be in for a big surprise. I am not a mindless fool thatís going to lose to the likes of them. I can assure anyone that Fang and myself are well prepared for this match. Because even though both of us lost last week, We are going to be trying that much harder to win this week. Iíll hit the Detroit Special and make those boys tap like bitches that they are.

The elevator bell dings and John walks out, stepping on his gown and tripping, half jogging to the revolving doors of the hospital. The hospital gown tears off and begins jogging naked out the doors. He gets outside to the warm sunny air and sees Jade Green. While not knowing what to say, she notices him, and just stares at him, more towards his mid section. John walks up to her and smiles.

Irons Thinking: Hey baby, wanna fuck?

John: Jade, listen I need a favor. I need out of here, like back to my hotel, and I mean fast.

Jade: UhÖumÖ.John. Nice toÖ.see you penisÖ..i mean..itís hugeÖ.uhÖ.uhÖ.nice to see you again.

Irons Thinking: Yeah, she digs it.

John: Can we get out of here, like five minutes ago?

Jade: Yeah, hop in handsome.

Jade motions to a Mustang Convertible parked just behind her. John wastes no time hopping over the door and into the seat. Jade is still staring at John and seems to be in a trance then snaps out of it. She hurries over to the driverís side door and gets in, starts the car and begins to drive. After a few moments she begins to give quick glances at Johns lower abdomen.

Irons Thinking: Damn, when was the last time this lady got laid? Ah no matter, when we find Chloe, sheíll be happy to see me, and her.

John: See anything you like?

Jade: UmÖhehÖsorry. I havenít seen something thatÖ..immense since Ron Jeremy.

John: I get that a lot.

Jade: So whatís your story?

John: What do you mean?

Jade: Well think about it, what would you do if you saw an attractive female running naked out of a hospital trying to get away as fast as they could?

Irons Thinking: Damn, she has a point.

John: I see your point. I remember waking up in there and wanting to leave. The nurse tried to stop me, then stuck Oedipus on me.

Jade: Whoís Oedipus?

John: This short skinny looking security guard with a New Yorker accent. He hit me with a taser.

Are you serious?!

John: yeah. Then when I woke up again I was restrained with leather straps. Speaking of Leather, whatís this crap I hear that I have a tag match with a Leather and Lace for the tag titles?

Jade: Yes, thatís true. And Fang is your tag partner, so you better not screw it up.

John: I know that! Whoín the hell is Leather and Lace?

Jade: You are joking right?

She looks at Johns face and sees that he has no idea. She begins to giggle then turns her attention back to the road.

Jade: Leather and Lace is Lady Ashe and Lacey. Theyíre the new Tag Champs.

Irons Thinking: WHAT!? Since when!?

John: Really. Damn it.

Jade: What?

John: I didnít know it was them. Damn it!

Jade: John Irons, are you more afraid of losing to two beautiful women, or getting a hard on in the ring!?

John stays silent for a moment, as if not sure what to say. He looks out the window and makes an attempt to cross his legs, trying to hide his man hood.

Jade: What? Nothing to say? Aw, did I embarrass you?

Irons Thinking: YES! John: No, itís not that. ItísÖ.Iíve never faced a woman one on one before. My ma raised me to never hit a woman.

Jade: But youíve beaten Ashe before. What would make this time any different?

John: Ashe never stepped into the ring the last time. She and Havok got into it backstage before the match began, then got banned from the building. It was me, Steven Striker, and Fang.

Jade: Well youíll have nothing to worry about then John.

John: Says you. Youíre not the one thatís sitting here naked as a jaybird. I have to find some way to get to Russia before my flight leaves.

Jade: Well, we better hurry if youíre going to make it. Here, use my cell to call your wife and get clothes ready for you.

Jade hands John her cell and John dials for his wife.

Irons Thinking: Please answer, please answer, please...

Chloe: Hello?

John: Hey babe, I need one of those favors where I ask and you donít answer.

Chloe: okay, whatíd you do this time John?

John: I escaped from a hospital, and Iím naked. I need clothes.

Chloe: Iíll see what I can do hun. Love ya.

John: Love ya too babe.

John hangs up the phone and looks to Jade.

John: You know what I just realized Jade? I just might be the only sane person in this match. We have The Vampire, The Werewolf, and the crazy lady thatís married to the devil, then thereís me. But enough is enough. Ashe, this time when I face you itís going to be for real. I could care less what you say about me or Fang, but you will leave the Marine Corps out of this. While itís true that Iím battle tested and tried, it has no bearing or effect here in the GWA. I am the big man in this fight, and Fang and I are coming out on top as the new tag champs. Now this week is going to be harder for me that usual just because of the fact that my Ma raised me to never hit, or strike a woman. I almost feel as if I am betraying her and sheís rolling over in her grave as we speak. But this isnít going to keep myself and Fang from winning. When that bell rings, the both of you are no longer women. In that ring you become the enemy. I can understand that the typical male seems like canned meat to you, but I am no ordinary man. Neither is Fang. I might not have ever have won a tag match in my career here, but I aim to change that this Sunday at the pay per view. You see, while you may have done a lot of things in your past Ashe, that was then, this is now. Need I remind you how many Global title shots fang and I have had in the past month? How many global shots have you had? Hmm? Just one I believe. Iíve had three, Fangís had two. Together thatís five and four more than you have had. What does that tell you? And I donít wanna hear any bullshit about a marine knowing how to count, Iíve heard them all. This is now, not then. And for your information, I havenít lost a singles match since my return from injury. Ashe I know quite a lot about you, but your tag partner Iím not so sure on. Rumor is she thinks sheís married to the Devil. Or something like that. Either way I donít care. What I do care about is winning.

See, We have here the dominatrix that wears too much powder and reads into too many Bram Stoker novels. What you need to realize is that leather is not you. Your love handles and fat rolls show too much. What you need is a little bleach in your hair, some slim fast, and maybe a little liposuction for that ghetto booty you got going. Either we all know that those are implants and either Fang, or myself will pop em come the Pay per view. And your servant submissive needs a reality check. The whole Boy George/Prince thing was like cool twenty years ago. But now it makes him look sad. See the both of you need to be educated in more ways than one. You see, when I see you in the ring now, itís like youíre sexually repressed. Perhaps you could find a good man whore to satisfy your needs. But then again weíre going to be in Russia, and I wouldnít touch a prostitute with a ten foot pole. Then again with this whole domanatrix thing you could pass as one. Lacy Iím not sure of, but one thing is for sure that while she belongs in the GWA, you Ashe do not. You belong either six feet under or on the Redneck Yacht club I mean the L.A. Kings hockey team. Same difference either way. Iíll be seeing you and your little dog in the ring in Russia. Prepare to lose, and shine up those belts real nice ladies. Because the big boys are about to come out and play.

Irons Thinking: I better hope Iím ready for this. Russian Slime, here I come.

The scene fades to black.

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