Leftovers...

From the FAWN logo the view faded in on a luxuriously appointed kitchen in the wake of what must’ve been a massive Thanksgiving dinner. Platters, plates, dishes and tureens covered every available surface, some in piles three or four. Judging by the noticeable lack of leftovers it would’ve seemed impossible that anyone could’ve left such a feast in anything less than a deep food coma, yet the clinking and clanking from just off screen suggested that someone was indeed rummaging through the fridge.



The camera swung that way just as the door ‘shoomped’ closed and Violyt Goodheart turned around holding a triple decker turkey sandwich in one hand and a Mr. Pibb in the other. Apparently startled by the arrival of the camera, the Princess of Peaksville let out a little ‘eep’, then shook her head and giggled.



VIOLYT GOODHEART:





“Jeeze, you guys’ll just follow me anywhere, won’t ya? Well, that’s fine, my house is your house and all that. Actually… my house is the Peterson’s house, but they’re in Reno for the week, so their house is my house is your house. Sorry, getting bogged down with semantics.”



Goodheart walked over to the one open space on the counter, set down her drink and cracked it open before helping herself to a giant bite of the sandwich. “I love leftovers, don’t you? They’re a great way to stretch out the warm and fuzzies of a day like Thanksgiving. But some people don’t like leftovers. In fact, some people HATE leftovers. Worse, they treat honest to goodness [/I]people[/I] like leftovers. Like something they can just hide away or heaven for fend, ignore, in the hopes that they’ll just be forgotten until it’s time to throw them away when you’re cleaning out the fridge six months from now.”



Violyt took another thoughtful bite, her brief silence allowing the camera to note her seemingly festive sweater depicted a manically gleeful cartoon turkey holding a blunderbuss in one hand and the severed head of a pilgrim in the other.



“You have no idea how much it pained me to find out that none other than Kylie Sanders, my FAVORITE WRESTLER EVAR is guilty of this particular crime. Like you and all other good people, I looked on with great sadness as the Pleasant Valley Princess was treated so shabbily at ‘Mania and then again at All Hallows Evil. And not just by those peppy goofballs in the Greater Good, that mangy ingrate Jasmine Washington had the nerve to attack our heroine when she was at her most vulnerable! Of course I was just as aggrieved as everyone else, but I thought, Kylie’s a grown-ass lady, she can handle her business, so I held my tongue, then almost bit it off when the J-Dogg skeeved her way to a victory at AHE. I was just about to head out there and set her straight, but dang it if catering didn’t have those mini corndogs they almost NEVER have anymore, so I had to stop and get a handful and by the time I was done that Janey Come Lately Cassava Onika had stepped in to hog the Sanders Savin’ spotlight!”



Violyt sighed, shook her head, took another bite of sandwich.



“That hurt, not gonna lie. That hurt a lot. But I thought, hey, that’s cool. Cass can save Kylie tonight, then I’ll get a chance to help her out later. So I got on the horn with Bethany Christian that very night to offer my services as Kylie’s tag partner, assuming a mean stray like J-Dogg could even find herself another partner. Boss Lady told me she’d take my offer under advisement which always means yes, right? So here I am eager to get started working on tag team strategies, only to find out that Kylie’s gonna be playing cornerman for Cassava against Jasmine at Cold November Pain? Well, I was sure it was some sort of clerical error or oversight in PR, this may be a little insider baseball for you casual fan types, but it’s an open secret that Ted in PR is a total train-wreck and he’s ALWAYS messing these things up. So I made sure to set Ted straight toot-sweet, but through all the screaming he kept insisting it wasn’t a mistake and that he was just following word from Bethany’s office!”



The Glittering Enigma shook her head in obvious incredulity.



“I certainly couldn’t let a lie like that stand, so I dragged Ted straight to Bethany’s back door and banged on it until she came out and…” Violyt trailed off, her voice hitching in her throat. “She told me that Kylie didn’t WANT to be my partner. That she didn’t NEED a partner ‘like me.’ What’s that even supposed to mean? I’m great! Ted thinks so! The Petersen’s think so! I’d be the fiercest, most loyal partner Kylie Sanders could ever wish for and she’s shunted me to the back of the proverbial fridge like a carton of Aunt Millie’s atrocious Noodle Kaboodle!”



Violyt took a deep breath, let it out slow. “And as a final insult, not only did I discover that the Pleasant Valley Princess doesn’t want to be my partner, but she’s actually enlisted the services of that whistling sociopath Claudia Rooney to ‘keep me busy’ with a match at Cold November Pain! Now, I’ll admit, I never, ever, ever turn down the opportunity to make a souless ginger shriek to the rafters, but that’s a game I play on MY TERMS, not anyone else’s. Not even Kylie Sanders. So here’s what I’m gonna do.”



Goodheart took a couple more bites of her sandwich, then chugged the rest of her Mr. Pibb and finished off with a long, satisfied belch.



“Damn, that’s good turkey. Anyhoo, I’m gonna be at CNP and I’m gonna show my favorite wrestler the folly of throwing good money after bad. Because Claudia Rooney, bless her heart, isn’t going to keep me from becoming Kylie’s next tag team partner and by extension, her best friend. The only thing she’s going to do is suffer under those lights and wonder if she shouldn’t have added an extra zero to her fee to make it all worth it. She’s certainly not going to stop me.”



Goodheart’s expression of perpetual good cheer faded to one of stone-faced calm.



“No one’s going to stop me.”



Then the smile came back brighter than ever.



“Bye for now, friend-o’s. I’ll see ya soon!”