SCENE 00: THE FORWARD

No contest? Are you kidding us? We did all that work and we get a damned no contest? What kinda BS is that? -Sighs- Fine.. at least we get them again later on in the tournament, provided they don't get eliminated by someone else. Even then, they might get an ass kicking when they least expect it. Three little blondes had better watch thier backs..

SCENE 01: PAYBACK'S A BITCH.. AND SO IS SHE.

Last week was a disaster, to say the least. We got ambushed and separated to the point where The Beautiful Bitches nearly took us out completely. We even got injured trying to save Alexis! I can see this won't be easy.. or fun.. but we promised to be her partner.. so we must. We have to take care of her if we want to win. At the moment, we're in our hotel room for this week, rather infuriated at what's gone on. A bandage is wrapped around our right elbow, staunching the blood that poured from it only days before due to having rammed the large metal door that kept us inside the storage closet and from The Beautiful Bimbos.

Stevie is pacing the room as we air our greivances, obviously distraught that he wasn't there to help fend off the blonde wolves that tore at our clothes and flesh in jealousy and rage. He looks somewhat calm, going over things in his head, possibly blocking out our screams of frustration in order to come up with a game plan. Too bad he and Mitchell, much less Raven, can't be with us this week.. we could use his help in abundance. We just haven't realized this yet.. but we will.

PROFESSIONAL PSYCHO || Daffney
Stevie, I swear it, these bitches are gonna pay! They have fucked with the wrong psycho! I don't care if it's this week, next week, or a month from now, I'm gonna rip out every hair on thier heads and strangle them with it! I will bathe in thier blood, I will relish the sound of thier bones breaking, I will laugh at thier pain! They wanna be beautiful? Well it ain't gonna happen! I'LL be the beautiful one when my face is painted in thier blood as I go do battle against the next sorry blondes in line!

PROFESSIONAL THERAPIST || Dr. Stevie
I know they will.. and I love the scene you're painting.. really, I do. There's just one problem.

PROFESSIONAL PSYCHO || Daffney
Problem? What problem? John Morrison? He's pretty, but not my type. Madison? Skanky ho, but couldn't shine my boots. The other two are all talk and no brains. I see no problem.

PROFESSIONAL THERAPIST || Dr. Stevie
One, you're not against the Beautiful People this week. They have Melina and Leyla. Two, I won't be there. Nor will Raven or Mitchell. You, Alexis, Torrie, and Stacy. That's it. All matches were deemed no interference.

PROFESSIONAL PSYCHO || Daffney
Like I said.. I'll give them what's coming to them in time, whether it's this week or any other. And the no interference rules just make it easier. They have no help that we have to worry about watching our backs over. We can take them out in mere seconds.. best thing is.. [We smile, showing just how sick we are.] ..they're blondes, too.

PROFESSIONAL THERAPIST || Dr. Stevie
What is it with you and blondes? Do they give you a complex or something?

PROFESSIONAL PSYCHO || Daffney
You'll see. I'm due for cameratime in a minute. Watch, listen and learn.. and most likely come up with a few new diseases I qualify for.

With that, we leave the room, headed for the arena to scout out the backstage area and the setup for this week's show as the scene fades out on Stevie just shaking his head at us and what we had to say.

SCENE 02: DOG WITHOUT A LEASH.. SUCKS FOR YOU!

The next place we find ourselves in is the arena of course.. like we said. We come down from the second floor, dressed in a green and black lolita-styled dress and black platform boots. Our hair is in long pigtails, the jet black tresses somewhat crimped for a bit of texture, and the theme in our makeup seems to be green to match the outfit. This, however, does not apply to our nail polish, which is blood red. Once we see the camera, our jet black painted lips part in a twisted smile, as if we can already invision the bloody corpses of Torrie and Stacy lying on the ground in front of us.

PROFESSIONAL PSYCHO || Daffney
What, you thought you were rid of me? Nooo, not by a long shot. You'll neeever ever get rid of me, little blonde darlings. All blondes are hereby on notice if they weren't already. Oh, the Beautiful People may think they've gotten away with it since they gave us what they figured to be a really bad beatdown, but that was only the beginning. They couldn't come up with a good idea if the king of masterminds himself came up and implanted it in thier brains. They barely have two good brain cells to rub together to figure out how to get dressed in the scraps of cloth they call clothes, much less come up with something like that, so you know what? I think someone else did it for them. John Morrison? Possibly. He seems to have a good head on his shoulders. It'd be even better if he didn't choose to align himself with the idiots of the company. [We pause, thinking of something before we make our point.] Okay, pretty much all the so called starlets are brainless morons, so he'd be better off just finding a guy to get with. Just go ahead and turn gay.. gives the idiot women something to look at and it makes the guys happy, whether they're in the closet or not.

We smile and continue coming down the stairs to reach the first floor, our platform boots making a thunking sound as they hit the tile. We seem almost bored as we walk around, surrounded by food courts and other types of vendors, setting up shop and preparing for the onslaught of customers that will soon be pouring in.

PROFESSIONAL PSYCHO || Daffney
All of these women on the roster remind me of Cordelia from Angel.. spoiled, stupid, and preppy with enough clothing to supply two third world countries plus some for ten years or more without having to wear the same outfit twice. They're Cordelia when who they really wanna be is Faith.. the ass kicking, ready with a comeback in seconds bitch with all of the good artillery. It's sad, really.. being Faith while beating the crap out of Cordys week in and week out. And I have to say it.. I absolutely hate Cordy. The woman is like the victim from a bad horror movie. Always clinging to the hot leading man, doing what she can to get his attention every five minutes, and dressing as slutty as she can while having the IQ of a damned goldfish. It's scary how many Cordys are in the world, let alone this company.. and I have to deal with them all. Every single one of them, from the stupid witch at the Avon store last week to the little assistants that Shane McMahon probably has working for him. From the little chick taking the tickets at the door of the arena.. trust me, I've met her.. she's stupid, bordering on the brain of a half dead monkey.. to the chick who creates the outfits for the rosters here. Seriously.. I could buy better outfits at Wal-Mart.. I won't, but I could. And just so you know, I get all or most of my stuff from Hot Topic, Wicked Jester, or some other stores I won't name because I don't want you people stalking me.

Shoving open the doors that lead to the sitting area, we start walking down the stairs of the bleachers, our boots thunking the whole way on the metal as we glance up every now and again to look at the ring being set up by the UPW stage hands.

PROFESSIONAL PSYCHO || Daffney
Here.. it'll be here, Monday night, as it is every week. In front of thousands, possibly millions by the time you figure in the viewers from home, not to mention the ones who watch it illegally online. Many people have graced this ring among other the rings from other companies, looking to make a name for themselves.. and only a few have succeeded. Hell, most come here after thier name has already been made legendary, and that's cool, too. But that's not what I'm talking about. What I'm talking about is simply the carnage.. the blood and guts all over the mat and ringside area while your cold, dead, lifeless eyes stare up at the ceiling looking at absolutely nothing. The carnage that the fans that have paid your way to stardom will get to see and remember as they sit there, sipping on sodas and munching on overpriced hotdogs and burgers. What I will do to you two.. yes, you, Stacy, and you, Torrie.. will be what I wanted to do to the Beautiful Bleached Blondes last week and didn't get. Trust me.. there will be pain.. blood.. broken bones.. torn muscles.. ripped clothes.. and that's not even half of it, and it's already sounding beautiful.

We find an empty seat amongst the many.. empty seats and sit down, propping our feet up on the barricade, crossing our ankles lazily as we watch the stagehands continue their work. We grin slowly, a gleam in our eyes that isn't quite definable.

PROFESSIONAL PSYCHO || Daffney
Yeah, I have issues, but you'll have a rather large medical bill on top of funeral expenses. And the fact that Stevie isn't allowed to be there? Not a problem. In fact, it hurts your case even more. He's my stability.. the leash for the rabid dog, so to speak.. and he only gets violent when he sees the need to. I get violent when I want to.. and that's all of the time. Sucks for you. If I don't have my leash.. well.. there's no holding me back, now is there? Another very very bad thing.. and it's not in your favor at all. What's worse.. is that Alexis is a psycho in training and she won't have her leashes there, either. Oh, the lovely carnage that will ensue. Stevie will have dreams about it for days, maybe even weeks to come, and he'll thank me for it. He loves it when I take people apart, you know. It gives him the feeling of being high.. of being in the best place imaginable.. and I love giving him that feeling. It also doesn't help your case that he doesn't like seeing me hurt.. and with you two taking the place of the Beautiful Bimbos, well, let's just say the aftermath of our match will be the things fantasies are made of.. and my fantasies.. are everyone else's nightmares.

We make a little kissy face, mocking the pretty people we will be seeing for the next few weeks as the scene fades out, leaving you and everyone else in darkness.