Post by Van Zant on Oct 2, 2016 20:52:13 GMT
C R E A T I V E D I F F E R E N C E S //
September 14th, 2009 | West Linn Public High School | West Linn, Oregon
The first week of school was coming to a close, and the students were just beginning to settle into their courses at West Linn Public High School. Violet was entering her Junior year, although she was hanging around with Seniors most of the time. Lunch hour was approaching, and as Violet stood in the smoker's area of the school (which was really just an abandoned bus shelter) with her Senior boyfriend Dustin and his friends, a weaselly Freshman wandered past with her books tucked beneath her arm and her hair tied in a tight ponytail.
"Aye," Violet yelled across to her, the girl stopped in her tracks and looked around. "Over here, stupid."
"Hello . . . " The girl looked up slightly to meet Violet's stare, a hint of confusion in her voice.
"Hello!" Violet smiled pleasantly, "Now, go ahead and give me that ten dollar bill sticking out of your pocket."
The girl seemed confused, looking down at her allowance given to her by her mother.
"Yep, that one," Violet stuck her hand out expectantly.
"But . . . That's my lunch money," The girl frowned.
"Well, no," Violet shrugged, sounding casually confident. "I mean, it was. But nooow. . . It's my lunch money," Violet nonchalantly reaches over to the girl's pocket, snagging the ten dollar bill and smiling sweetly. "Boop!"
She tapped the young girl on the nose.
"I'm telling Principal Johnson on you!" Tears began to well up in the young girl's eyes.
"Well, the fuck you still standing here for, then? Get steppin'."
//
The scene opens to Violet Van Zant standing outside of the Four Seasons hotel in San Franciso. She was perched up against the building, one foot on the wall, and a lit cigarette between her fingers.
"I'm not too sure how many times I'll have to prove it, but I'm willing to find out." Violet begins, taking a drag from her cigarette and exhaling the smoke as the fall breeze carries it away. "Week after week it seems to be the same thing. First from Hailey, then from Zach . . . How many times can somebody say that my skills ain't shit before getting knocked out? How many times can you doubt the girl who came into this company with no experience, but is now in a number one contendership match for the Bay Area Championship? Seems like we've got a full roster full of bitter traditionalists who just hate seeing anybody else climb the corporate ladder."
Violet shrugs with a genuine smile on her face.
"Sure, maybe there was a lead pipe involved. Maybe some illegal maneuvers. But fuck, dude, what do you want from me? You know what I am, I haven't been secretive about my past, where I've been, what I used to do . . . And what do you know? This week, this unlucky motherfucker, Aiden Van't Hoff, finds himself across from me in a goddamn street fight. Where the shit that I do to win is legal, can you believe it?"
Violet chuckles, almost sympathetically for her opponent.
"This is my home ground, dude. If you thought I looked good against Hailey Banks and Zach Knight, two experienced wrestlers with admittedly more technique in their pocket than I? Just wait until you put me in the one environment I'm all too familiar with. I can tell you one thing for certain, and I'm no psychic, but I know the losing streak Aiden Van't Hoff has been on will only continue come Vendetta. And let's fucking talk about this guy for a second, though,"
Violet raises her finger as if she was almost interrupting herself with a point.
"How good is it going to feel bashing in the perfectly groomed skull of the guy who has everything? The kid comes from money. Me? I never came from jack fucking shit. Pro wrestler, street fighter, Starbucks barista – doesn't mean anything if you've never learned to fight for anything in your life. I fought forever. I fought for food, I fought for money, I lived on the streets. I never stopped fighting and I never started fighting differently once I signed with RSW. I'm the same fighter as I was growing up in West Linn . . . "
Violet drops her cigarette, crushing it under her shoe.
"And thats bad fucking news for Van't Hoff, I'll tell you that much for free."
"Aye," Violet yelled across to her, the girl stopped in her tracks and looked around. "Over here, stupid."
"Hello . . . " The girl looked up slightly to meet Violet's stare, a hint of confusion in her voice.
"Hello!" Violet smiled pleasantly, "Now, go ahead and give me that ten dollar bill sticking out of your pocket."
The girl seemed confused, looking down at her allowance given to her by her mother.
"Yep, that one," Violet stuck her hand out expectantly.
"But . . . That's my lunch money," The girl frowned.
"Well, no," Violet shrugged, sounding casually confident. "I mean, it was. But nooow. . . It's my lunch money," Violet nonchalantly reaches over to the girl's pocket, snagging the ten dollar bill and smiling sweetly. "Boop!"
She tapped the young girl on the nose.
"I'm telling Principal Johnson on you!" Tears began to well up in the young girl's eyes.
"Well, the fuck you still standing here for, then? Get steppin'."
//
The scene opens to Violet Van Zant standing outside of the Four Seasons hotel in San Franciso. She was perched up against the building, one foot on the wall, and a lit cigarette between her fingers.
"I'm not too sure how many times I'll have to prove it, but I'm willing to find out." Violet begins, taking a drag from her cigarette and exhaling the smoke as the fall breeze carries it away. "Week after week it seems to be the same thing. First from Hailey, then from Zach . . . How many times can somebody say that my skills ain't shit before getting knocked out? How many times can you doubt the girl who came into this company with no experience, but is now in a number one contendership match for the Bay Area Championship? Seems like we've got a full roster full of bitter traditionalists who just hate seeing anybody else climb the corporate ladder."
Violet shrugs with a genuine smile on her face.
"Sure, maybe there was a lead pipe involved. Maybe some illegal maneuvers. But fuck, dude, what do you want from me? You know what I am, I haven't been secretive about my past, where I've been, what I used to do . . . And what do you know? This week, this unlucky motherfucker, Aiden Van't Hoff, finds himself across from me in a goddamn street fight. Where the shit that I do to win is legal, can you believe it?"
Violet chuckles, almost sympathetically for her opponent.
"This is my home ground, dude. If you thought I looked good against Hailey Banks and Zach Knight, two experienced wrestlers with admittedly more technique in their pocket than I? Just wait until you put me in the one environment I'm all too familiar with. I can tell you one thing for certain, and I'm no psychic, but I know the losing streak Aiden Van't Hoff has been on will only continue come Vendetta. And let's fucking talk about this guy for a second, though,"
Violet raises her finger as if she was almost interrupting herself with a point.
"How good is it going to feel bashing in the perfectly groomed skull of the guy who has everything? The kid comes from money. Me? I never came from jack fucking shit. Pro wrestler, street fighter, Starbucks barista – doesn't mean anything if you've never learned to fight for anything in your life. I fought forever. I fought for food, I fought for money, I lived on the streets. I never stopped fighting and I never started fighting differently once I signed with RSW. I'm the same fighter as I was growing up in West Linn . . . "
Violet drops her cigarette, crushing it under her shoe.
"And thats bad fucking news for Van't Hoff, I'll tell you that much for free."
