.psychotropic warfare.

.[Forward].   I'm baaaaaack. Miss me? I'll bet some of you did. Some of you have no fucking clue who I am - but you will. You'll remember me with hatred, awe, respect, love, and most likely all at the same time. I am the woman you love to hate, and hate to love. I'm here to bring your world crashing down around you and spit on your crushed, mangled body. My plans are simple. Pick victims; one by one turning their lives upside down and their bodies into a bloody pile of torn cartilage and broken bones. Violent much? Yes... But at least I look good doing it. Some of you may remember a patented list I once had. Names like Megan the Monster, Dave Van Dam, Zero, and others were all on it at one time. Just certain people that rubbed me the wrong way. So yes, I beat them. But not just in matches. In life. Will I make another list? Probably. I have one name picked out already... Trina. Why? I'll get to that later.   Some of you may be wondering, why? Why in the bluest of hells would Jalie align herself with Cody Carson? Some of you probably know that Carson and I have a past history, and not a pretty one. Well, not pretty by normal standards. For those of you who don't know, it went something like this- Cody hit me in the face with a chair (my first chair shot). I beat the living hell out of him. From then on, Cody would make feeble attempts at defending himself whilst I verbally bitchslapped him over, and over again. But eventually, Carson's in-ring performance began to improve greatly. Openly, I was developing alot of respect for the little man. Through a little tutoring and some much needed life experience, he started to kick ass.   But, why attack Dunn? Simple.   A: He looks like a tool.   Really, isn't the whole bleached blonde spiky hair look a bit overdone? Men don't need to spend hours styling their fucking hair every morning.   B: I'm a fucking bitch.   C: I had nothing better to do.   As for Scott Royal? In my case, he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Noble, though. Him coming to Dunn's rescue. However, Prince Charming isn't always gonna be there to cover Dunn's ass every time we come around. Why? He'll be getting his ass kicked by my husband. And while Cody boyhandles you, (kinky), i'll be watching. (more kinky). But trust me, i'm not gonna just stand around and look pretty while they have all the fun. I've got plans of my own. Like the guts and glory title. Sure, it's one of the shittiest titles available... And though I know fully well I could go after any other one, i've decided I like the name. I have now claimed it... As mine and no one elses. But, on a technicality, I have to go through three women to have the chance to officially hold it. Whatever-i'll do what it takes. I wanna make something clear, though. The only reason I agreed to fighting women is to get to Trina. Trust me, I don't inten to waste all my time beating the hell out of what is most often, the weaker sex.   .[psychotropic warfare]. .[..the feelings i once felt are now dead and gone..].   SCENE: Infomercial DATE: September 18th, 2004 TIME: 4:32 P.M. LOCATION: Los Angeles, California   Our scene fades in to a set that looks similar to those of the Jerry Lewis telethons. The cameras are not yet rolling, and we see none other than Jalie Thomas sitting on one of the tables lined with phones. A set producer approaches her, glancing at her outfit.. A pair of white Tripp NYC bondage pants and a pink tank top that reads "I Fucked Paris Hilton". Jalie glances at him and raises an eyebrow. He smiles.   Producer: Wardrobe is in back. You look about a size 4.. We should have plenty for you.   Jalie Thomas: I'm a size 9- I have muscles, unlike most of the skinny bitches you work with. And i'm not changing so go tell your 'people' to kiss my fucking ass.   Producer: Alright.. However profanity-   Jalie Thomas: Will be of no matter to the situation. Listen, don't you guys have a snack stand or some shit? Or a fast food lackey, or something. I'm happy to be here, though... It's a great cause. Something i've been pulling for for years.   Producer: So you feel strongly about the rights of disabled children?   Jalie Thomas: Hell yes. What purpose do they serve, anyway?   Jalie gets up and walks past the confused looking staffer. The scene switches to a now active set. Jalie is standing beside Christopher Reeves, the famous ex-superman now cripple. The cameras are rolling as Reeves has a huge grin on his face. Jalie just looks extremely uncomfortable.   Christopher Reeves: Welcome to the PBS Save the Children 2004 Telethon. I have with me wrestling superstar Jalie Thomas. Like most of us, Jalie cares about the rights of disabled children, which is why we've banded together today to raise money for a petition.   Jalie Thomas: Thats right Chris. This petition will benefit not only the children, but those that have to deal with them as well. As you can see, the phones are already ringing and it really pleases me to know that others have given thought to this idea as well as me and my husband. Well, not so much my husband but... Me.   Christopher Reeves: Sure thing Jalie. For me, helping disabled children has always been a pleasing experience. This petition will simply help others to do the same, and more frequently. So Jalie, why don't you tell us about your first experience with a gifted child?   Jalie Thomas: Gifted? I like the sarcasm. God hates them. Anyway my first experience was when I had three months of community service to make up for rolling this kids wheelchair down a hill. He broke both his legs, but it's not like he could feel it anyway. So I had to work at this camp for disabled children. I can't remember the name... Cripple Farm... Something along those lines. The bitching and whining was constant. 'Miss Dumas, i'm afraid of the dark.. and theres bears outside!', 'Miss Dumas, I can't swim, i'm paralyzed'... His arms moved pretty fuckin' fast once I shoved him in. This is why I firmly believe that euthanasia should be legalized for seniors and disabled children. Nobody wants to hear them bitch. They can't work. We're wasting tax dollars building those fucking wheelchair ramps everywhere... It has got to end, Chris. This is why i've donated my own 50,000 dollars to this cause.   Jalie smiles, eventually noticing the calls have stopped, and the crew is staring at her in disbelief. Reeves glares at her.   Christopher Reeves: You sick bitch. This petition is for more government programs to BENEFIT disabled kids... Not kill them!   Jalie's jaw drops.   Jalie Thomas: I want my fucking money back! You people want a good cause? I'll give you a good cause... I got your kryptonite right here, fucker!   Jalie pulls a syringe from her pocket and removes the cap. She lunges at Reeves but he rolls himself backward and Jalie lands face-first on the floor. She scrambles to her feet and jumps on Reeves' chair, but before she can regain her balance he swings left, throwing her off. She gets up once more and begins chasing him in circles around the set. Suddenly, Reeves' throws the chair in reverse and smacks into her. Jalie drops to the floor. Reeves' turns and revs the power chair before running her over with it, then back again. He starts laughing, as the crew stares on in silence. Suddenly Jalie appears behind him, an evil smirk on her face as she raises the syringe.   Voice: ... Honey?   Jalie turns to see Seth Thomas standing in the double door-way. She drops the needle and runs at him, jumping into his arms.   Seth Thomas: Have fun?   Jalie Thomas: Very. I'm ready to go, though.   Seth turns, carrying her off-set as the scene fades to commercial.   .Dos. The scene fades in to a plain white background. An overweight man in a white wifebeater and grey sweatpants is standing alone, his hand shoved down his pants as he scratches himself. He looks, to say the least, extremely uncomfortable. Another man, this time in a black suit, steps onto the screen beside him and turns to the camera. Suit: Do you suffer from moderate to severe ball itch? The fat man nods. Suit: Do you wish there was something that could get rid of it, whilst leaving a calming and relaxing scent? The fat man nods, yet again. Suit: Well do we have a product for you! The F.U.B.A.R. centers for research and development of male genitalia introduces, Ball Itch B-Gone! A revolutionary new product that will relieve you of your itching duties premanently. A midget, dressed in a spray can costume appears on screen. He walks over to the fat man and shoves his hand down his pants. He then takes a spray can and sprays a brown-looking liquid down the guys pants. Fat Guy: Mmm, steak and eggs! Suit: All better? Fat Guy: You bet! Thanks, F.U.B.A.R.! Voice-Over: F.U.B.A.R. industries is not to be held responsible for any midget molestation, genital swelling, warts, STD's,  diahrrea, vomiting, homicidal tendencies, loss of genitalia, or death caused by this product..... Ball Itch B-Gone, instant relief for your sweaty, itchy balls! (Now in Bacon, Cheesy Puffs and Moldy Recliner!) .Tres. The scene returns to the San Diego home of Seth and Jalie Thomas. A beat-up Chevy El Camino is sitting in the driveway, alongside a large brown dumpster. This is the home of Hobo Nick, Jalie's beloved manager and long-time friend. Some of you probably already know him. If not, you soon will. Inside the house, we see that the living room is pretty much the average guys dream pad. Big screen tv, a pool table, white bear-skin rug and a small fireplace. Plus, the all-important black leather couch. To the left of the doorway is a large staircase leading to the bedrooms and bathrooms. Moving on into the uber-modern kitchen and out the sliding glass door is the over-sized backyard. A barbecue fit for a barbarian feast adorns almost the entire right side of the yard. An in- ground pool sits in the center and beneath a screened-in porch is an air hockey table, plus a picnic table and benches. An ear-splitting scream is heard as a latino man of about 19 comes careening off the roof, landing in the pool with a tremendous splash. The camera swings to the roof, where Seth is standing and wiping his hands on his pants. Behind him are three lawn loungers. Jalie's lying in one, a content smile on her face. The 'victim', is Jalie's younger brother, Jay Dumas. Not exactly disowned by their parents, just, incredibly difficult to live with. Jalie has taken him in, amusing herself with his child-like mind. In the lawn-chair beside Jalie is Hobo Nick, wearing nothing but a pair of tightie whities. He's about 60 years of age,with long brown scraggly hair, and a beard to match. His hairy chest is glistening with sweat. Sexy, eh? Seth Thomas: Who's ready to barbecue? Jalie Thomas: Do I get to kill the cow?! Nick removes a four foot long steel poker from beside his chair, grinning. Hobo Nick: SHISHKA-JAY!! Seth Thomas: No, and... No. Nick and Jalie both look incredibly dissapointed. Nick tosses the steel poker off the roof. Seconds later a loud thud is heard, followed by a short splash. Jalie sits up to look over the edge of the roof. Jay is now floating unconscious in the pool. Hobo Nick: Is he dead? Jalie Thomas: Nah, just concussed. Hobo Nick: Then I missed. [Action - 9/25/04] My first match here is a number one contenders match. Kickass. Granted, it's for the suckiest title here, but I picked it and thats what matters. I've been here what, three days? Already i'm making enemies... But thats not a bad thing. I'm not here to make friends. So lets make some more enemies, shall we? Xyza Johansen. Uber goth. Not that I care. Thats just... All she's shown. That, and she has two identical sisters. She seems pretty fucking confident for someone who couldn't even beat Jasmine Lee. Granted, Carson was the ref and he seems to have a thing for Jasmine at the moment. But thats besides the point. The point is, you should have taken those odds and twisted them to your own advantage. Used Carson. It's not all that hard. Don't worry, though. I don't think anyones expectations of you were all that high anyway. You may be pissed that I don't have much to say to you... But I could care less. You, Trina, and Jasmine are simply lambs being led to the slaughterhouse. You three were practically fed to me... Just a space filler so I can earn a shot at my beloved shit title. That is all you're worth. And all you'll ever be worth. Deal with it. Trina. Can we say, COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT?! You're from Toronto. Your classification is 'diva' and your wrestling style is WOMENS? What the fuck is wrong with you? Am I like, the only one to pick up on this? Your entrance music is Trish Stratus'. Every single one of your moves is one of hers. Coincedence? I'll bet you're blonde with tits that could float you down the Nile and back, too.I wouldn't know, since theres the fact that you've never shown your face here... Once. Chickenshit. Whats the matter? Dissapointed there were no photoshoots for the so-called 'divas'? Clue-in, skank. Divas don't fight. Divas claw, suck, and fuck their way to the top. Xyza... She's a diva. Admittedly. I'm curious as to what would upset you more... stabbing you with a pair of scissors or cutting off your hair. Simply put, I want to kill you. Unfortunately thats against the law in this country so i'll settle for beating you within an inch of your life. Funny, thats illegal too... Unless you do it professionally. Ah, the beauty of professional wrestling. Jasmine Lee. What little charisma you had went down the drain when you turned down Carson. Instead you remain 'The chick from 3X'... Quite possibly the shittiest stable in wrestling history. Honestly, haven't you ever wondered HOW you made it into EWO? Because it sure as hell wasn't on raw personality. Or talent, for that matter. Congratulations, you succeeded in defeating the two shittiest 'divas' in this business... And you didn't even do it alone. The fact that Cody's infatuated with you helped a bit, wouldn't you agree? I'm curious... What do you do all day? Besides being 3X's eye candy? Wat hjave you shown us? You talk on your cell phone. Okay, thats one... You crack jokes that are laughed at only by the idiots you so lovingly refer to as 'stablemates'. Two. You do interviews. Three. And your stable has a coronary every time a member is gone for over 15 minutes. This is not interesting conversation. People want to see you show charisma... Tits and ass... Or extreme violence. That is, in essence, why people watch wrestling. You've succeeded in one of those things, and only because your shirt was torn off. Get a trainer, get a clue, and for christs sake get some fucking personality.