A Message for Bryce [vs. Bryce Albright I]

[Mondae Chaos]

Filmed before Shoot Saturday

Mondae Chaos steps out of the car and looks up at the large red sign in front of her, slightly perplexed. The sign reads "Scotiabank" and we find ourselves in Toronto, Canada. Shawn DeLise generously loaned Ms. Chaos the DeLise family jet (read: Shawn knows she is a murderer so she gets whatever she wants). Today Mondae is on a mission to figure out what a Scotiabank is and why a professional wrestler would work there, ever. Any Canadian would know that this a bank and any regular person would know what a bank is. However, our queen is not a regular person.

As always, the perfect teenager wears all black: a pair of high-waisted shorts, a bustier-style crop top with studs on the front and her favourite Doc Martens. She walked into the bank and paused for a moment, taking in this strange scene. A way-too-perky man behind the counter motioned for her to come over. Apprehensively, Mondae walked over to the teller.

"Hi ma'am. What can I help you with today?" His chipper demeanor made her want to punch him in the face. She took a deep breath.

"I guess I want to withdraw money?" Mondae had never actually stepped foot in a bank before today. Her daddy had always been her bank so this was a real fish out of water experience for our young murderess.

"Of course! Do you have your card?"

She stared blankly. "I'm Mondae Chaos." Her name should be enough to locate her money. Didn't this idiot recognize her?

"Uh, but I need your bank card to access your account." A big, plastic smile was still plastered across his stupid face.

Her eyes narrowed. Being nice for this long was exhausting. She was over the facade. "Where's Bryce Albright? Tell him to show his face. I know this is where he works."

This was the real reason for coming here anyway, it's not like Mondae needed money. The teller saw the look of determination across Mondae's face and his plastic smile began to falter. 

"I'm sorry but no one named Bryce works here."

Mondae leaned in closer, her elbows resting on the desk in front of her. "I said, GET. ME. BRYCE." Her patience had run thin and this moron was lying to our Queen. The teller opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. Mondae's eyes flashed with rage. She reached across the desk and grabbed the teller by his tie pulling him close to her. The scream of a 15-year old girl escaped his mouth as he came eye to eye with the raven haired bitch.

"Do you think I am fucking joking? I know that Bryce Albright is here! He is just too afraid to come out here. What is it? His daddy isn't around to protect him so he's cowering like some little bitch in the back?" She laughed at the thought.

"It's fine, you give Bryce a message for me, okay?" The teller nodded furiously. "You tell Bryce that he is a fucking nobody. He has done nothing but beat a tiny, pathetic girl. You can tell him that if he thinks stepping into the ring with me will be anything like stepping into the ring with Raven, he is sadly mistaken. I am leaps and bounds beyond her skill level and I will put up a much tougher fight. I am undefeated because I am perfection. I live to destroy. I wonder how his daddy will feel when I leave him laying in a pool of his own blood on Thursday. His dad will probably be so embarrassed he'll disown him. No one wants a loser for a son, and he already works here. On Thursday, I plan to ruin his fucking life. I will take his brightness and rip it from him until he is nothing but a shell. You tell him that!"

Mondae delivered a stiff elbow to his jaw. He went flying off of the stool and onto the floor. The teller touched his nose where he felt his warm blood. A sick smile spread across Mondae's face and she licked her lips at the sight of his blood. Security ran over and she took a step back, raising her hands before leaving of her own accord.

"Don't forget to deliver my message!" She yelled as she left the building, laughing, her hands still in the air.

He wouldn't get the message because he doesn't work here.