Making Preparations (ii)

[Emma Douglas]

We open up in that huge nearly abandoned warehouse we've seen before. And much of what was seen the last time is the same. Very worn out ring with various exercise equipment thrown all around including sets of free weights and some heavier weights as well sitting upon a tattered mat. Also set up in a corner is a boxing heavy bag, near that are a set of two heavy ropes connected to the wall. That's where we find Emma Douglas, working on her strength there. She's so into what she's doing she doesn't hear Archer walk up to her, only when he comes into her peripheral does she see him and stop her exercises.

Looks like you set up things just the way you like it.

Mmhmm. It wouldn't be the Douglas Dungeon without it, right?

Archer chuckles to himself and nods in agreement, pointing towards those ropes.

Is this how you train for a Bra and Panties match?

And to that end, Emma just gives him a death glare, made slightly more menacing with her dual colored irises. To say she wasn't pleased at Archer's smart ass comment would be an understatement.

No, dickhead. You're eating this up, aren't you? You know how damn hard I worked to get where I am. You know better than anyone else how much the entire fucking set up is a spit in my face. So, wipe that fucking smirk off your face before I do it for you.

Archer does just that, but Emma still continues to glare right at him.

This is me, preparing for fucking war. You see, things aren't going to way little Miss Newlywed thinks they are. I'm not jumping through any hoops for the princess. So I'm preparing like any other regular match. I'd love to see them both try and lay a hand on me and try to strip me being such an unwilling subject. Would. Love. To. Needless to say, it's not going to happen, as soon as either one tries to lay a hand on me, they are gonna be met with a stiff shot square on the jaw.

Emma throws down the ropes onto the dust and concrete.

You know, I'm sick and damn tired of not being respected here. At not being taken seriously and that's going to change right now. No more of this "pathetic little emo kids" bullshit. When I leave a pair of broken bodies in my wake, everyone will HAVE to take notice that I'm every bit as dangerous as I say I am.

Damn right.

And you know what? I fully expect Hailey Banks to come full tilt at me. After you know, the beating we put on her and her other sycophant friend Van't Hoff a couple of Vendettas ago. But neither one of them are cause for concern. Each one of them are like little leeches hovering in Lord Blake and Raven's shadow, and as you know, I can more than handle myself against a few underlings. She's only a step or two above Raven in terms of skill, I got this.

Archer crosses his arms in front of his chest.

And the other?

Brightly? Miss Revolution? She's anything but. I mean, if things were different, I could see where she's coming from. I quite understand opposing Mondae and crew. Manipulative little bitches. But as different as she thinks she is, and anti-establishment as she has it in her head, she's anything but. She's closer to the college frat team than she realizes. But good for her for standing up against them, pity I'm gonna have to put her down so quickly in her young little career. I'd almost feel bad for her, if I wouldn't enjoy every cry of pain escaping her lips. Thoroughly.

An wide almost sadistic smile creeps on her face as she runs that mental image through her brain, almost salivating at the chance to bloody and bruise a couple of blondes barbie types. She nods in Archer's direction.

You got things just about set up for this coming Vendetta, Spence?

Quit calling me that.

No.

He snorts at her flat response.

To answer your question, yeah, I got it all under control.

Good. I don't want to end up going through another flaming fucking table again if I don't have to.

She chuckles a bit, peers behind her back and licks her lips, almost like she enjoyed the experience.

You know what they say. Bitches get stitches.

Fade.