Post by Sylver Morrigan on May 26, 2008 22:30:31 GMT -6
The scene opens in a large, airy living room. Baseball is on the television, and Sylver Morrigan is on the couch, drinking a vodka straight. Her chestnut and bright pink hair is tumbling around her shoulders, and she's wearing a v-neck polo, showing a fair amount of creamy cleavage, and tight dark jeans. Her bare feet are curled under her as she sips the vodka.
Morrigan: I was worried about trusting Dudley?!? Ha! His most recent 'revelation' was no secret. He really thinks I didn't know that I was banging Sign Guy Dudley all that time ago? Yeah, if the nasty letter I got from his wife claiming that I gave her crabs didn't tip me off, I think I can tell the difference between The Hardcore Icon and his sidekick.
Sex is all about power. Dudley, at the time, was a man searching and struggling for power - power I felt he rightly deserved. A powerful man doesn't cry like a bitch with a skinned knee when you whip him with a cat of nine tails in bed.
But, Gods, the amount of coke I was on at the time? Any sex would do. I mean, anyone who was around back then may remember the revolving door of sexual partners I had. Not a fact I'm terribly proud of, but still.
Morrigan sips her drink, then places it on the coffee table. She pushes a strand of hair behind her ear, and a dark, unreadable look crosses her face... anger, or jealousy, with just a hint of wistfulness? Or just the anger?
Morrigan: Not that any of that will be coming into play this time around. No more drugging, none of that. Those of you who remember the old Sylver Morrigan may be surprised to find a different person this time - both in the ring and out.
Speaking of the ring, it appears that Dudley and The Gladiator have a little match this Thursday... I think we all need some time in the ring before the Triple Terror Tournament, give us a chance to see the competition in action. I notice that both the illustrious Dan Hampton and Calvin Constantine seem to be free on Thursday night... perhaps I could persuade one of them to participate in a match...
Well, if Hampton's doctor okays it. I don't need anymore blood on my hands...
Morrigan knocks back the rest of her vodka, and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. A white cat jumps up onto the couch, mews loudly, and stalks over to Morrigan, butting her head into Morrigan's leg, demanding attention.
Morrigan: Greedy little bugger, always trying to get people to notice her. Just like me...
Well, ICW, here's your notice: Morrigan is back. And I'm hungry.
The cat settles on Morrigan's lap as the scene fades to black.
Morrigan: I was worried about trusting Dudley?!? Ha! His most recent 'revelation' was no secret. He really thinks I didn't know that I was banging Sign Guy Dudley all that time ago? Yeah, if the nasty letter I got from his wife claiming that I gave her crabs didn't tip me off, I think I can tell the difference between The Hardcore Icon and his sidekick.
Sex is all about power. Dudley, at the time, was a man searching and struggling for power - power I felt he rightly deserved. A powerful man doesn't cry like a bitch with a skinned knee when you whip him with a cat of nine tails in bed.
But, Gods, the amount of coke I was on at the time? Any sex would do. I mean, anyone who was around back then may remember the revolving door of sexual partners I had. Not a fact I'm terribly proud of, but still.
Morrigan sips her drink, then places it on the coffee table. She pushes a strand of hair behind her ear, and a dark, unreadable look crosses her face... anger, or jealousy, with just a hint of wistfulness? Or just the anger?
Morrigan: Not that any of that will be coming into play this time around. No more drugging, none of that. Those of you who remember the old Sylver Morrigan may be surprised to find a different person this time - both in the ring and out.
Speaking of the ring, it appears that Dudley and The Gladiator have a little match this Thursday... I think we all need some time in the ring before the Triple Terror Tournament, give us a chance to see the competition in action. I notice that both the illustrious Dan Hampton and Calvin Constantine seem to be free on Thursday night... perhaps I could persuade one of them to participate in a match...
Well, if Hampton's doctor okays it. I don't need anymore blood on my hands...
Morrigan knocks back the rest of her vodka, and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. A white cat jumps up onto the couch, mews loudly, and stalks over to Morrigan, butting her head into Morrigan's leg, demanding attention.
Morrigan: Greedy little bugger, always trying to get people to notice her. Just like me...
Well, ICW, here's your notice: Morrigan is back. And I'm hungry.
The cat settles on Morrigan's lap as the scene fades to black.