Post by The Dirty Pretty Things on Oct 17, 2024 4:03:45 GMT
In an empty Punk Rock Club – Dim lights, graffiti-covered walls, and the lingering stench of cigarettes and spilled beer. Alice Rotten, a tough, fiery punk wrestler, sits cross-legged on the stage, the screech of feedback from an old amp echoing through the room. Her signature torn fishnets and a battered leather jacket barely cling to her frame. She's prepping for her upcoming match against Thaïs Empristikí, Mitzi Bopp, and Ayane Nakamura to become the number one contender for the International Championship.
Alice Rotten:
You lot must think I’m just some girl from Birmingham. Another face in the crowd, another no-one. Thaïs, Mitzi, Ayane – you think you’re so bloody tough? Well, let me remind you, I’m not an animal.
Alice stands, kicking over a beer can, pacing back and forth on the stage.
You see, this— (she spreads her arms wide, gesturing to the grimy club) —is where I come alive. Not in some posh gym or fancy ring. I’ve been dragged through dirtier places than you could ever imagine. Thaïs, you think your mind games will work on me? Love, I’ve been through insanity and worse. There’s a reason they call me Rotten, ‘cause when it comes to this game, I don’t play by your rules.
Alice climbs onto a speaker, perching like a predator.
Mitzi, you’re all about that fake sweetness, but I know the truth. You’re just like a factory product, screaming bloody mess. And Ayane, you’re the quiet one, aren’t you? Always watching, always waiting. But guess what? I’ve seen worse than you in the underground. I’ve walked through fire. I’ve seen faces with no trace of reality. But you’re not ready for the noise, ‘cause noise is our choice! And when the bell rings, you three will realize—this isn’t about skills or strength. It’s about survival. It’s about blood, guts, and bodies—bodies you can’t break. Mummy, I’m not an abortion. I’m the punk queen, the real deal, and this match? It’s mine to win. Come at me if you dare, ‘cause when I walk out of that ring, I’ll be the number one contender. And you three? You’ll just be another bloody disgrace.
Alice Rotten:
You lot must think I’m just some girl from Birmingham. Another face in the crowd, another no-one. Thaïs, Mitzi, Ayane – you think you’re so bloody tough? Well, let me remind you, I’m not an animal.
Alice stands, kicking over a beer can, pacing back and forth on the stage.
You see, this— (she spreads her arms wide, gesturing to the grimy club) —is where I come alive. Not in some posh gym or fancy ring. I’ve been dragged through dirtier places than you could ever imagine. Thaïs, you think your mind games will work on me? Love, I’ve been through insanity and worse. There’s a reason they call me Rotten, ‘cause when it comes to this game, I don’t play by your rules.
Alice climbs onto a speaker, perching like a predator.
Mitzi, you’re all about that fake sweetness, but I know the truth. You’re just like a factory product, screaming bloody mess. And Ayane, you’re the quiet one, aren’t you? Always watching, always waiting. But guess what? I’ve seen worse than you in the underground. I’ve walked through fire. I’ve seen faces with no trace of reality. But you’re not ready for the noise, ‘cause noise is our choice! And when the bell rings, you three will realize—this isn’t about skills or strength. It’s about survival. It’s about blood, guts, and bodies—bodies you can’t break. Mummy, I’m not an abortion. I’m the punk queen, the real deal, and this match? It’s mine to win. Come at me if you dare, ‘cause when I walk out of that ring, I’ll be the number one contender. And you three? You’ll just be another bloody disgrace.