Post by Amelia Winston on Sept 5, 2022 14:13:35 GMT
We open on a video call, Amelia Winston in one shot, the camera tight on her face, the other shot similarly tight on the face of an older black woman who bears a striking resemblance to ‘Wildheart’.
Amelia: “Aunt Bea! We won!”
Her tone is tired but still elated, someone who has been through a long night and a long fight but with a smile on her face that a stool to the head couldn’t remove right now.
Bea: “I know, I saw! I mean, I didn’t want to watch the match until I knew you were okay but your cousins texted me to let me know! We’re so proud of you! How are you feeling?”
Amelia: “Sore. Very, very sore. I think my bruises have contusions on them. But who cares? I’m a champion!”
Bea: “You and Kyle! He seems so nice! I love his accent. Are he and that Tilly girl-”
Amelia: “No idea, I haven’t asked him yet. Didn’t want to make it weird. I mean, now that we’re tag champions we’ll have to be weird together so I won’t feel weird about asking him about it now-”
Bea: “You’re saying ‘weird’ a lot.”
Amelia: “Hey, I got hit in the head really friggin’ hard tonight, be happy I remembered how to work my phone.”
Bea: “Fine, fine. So if they aren’t together does that mean you two might-”
Amelia: “Auntie! You don’t sleep with your tag team partner! That’s a terrible idea!”
Amelia looks genuinely appalled at the thought.
Bea: “So if you two had lost tonight and decided to never team again it would’ve been completely fine-”
Amelia: “Sure, why not?”
Bea: “But because you’re co-champions it’s a bad idea?”
Amelia: “Exactly.”
Bea: “I don’t really understand.”
Amelia: “You don’t fuck where you eat, Auntie.”
Bea: “That is definitely NOT how that expression goes. Though I suppose it’s less gross than the actual expression. Anyway, show me the belt!”
The shot on Amelia’s side pans down her body to the belt, draped across her upper torso.
Bea: “It’s a gorgeous belt… wait, are you naked?”
Amelia: “Of course not!”
The shot switches to a wider view of the room from a more conventional camera. Amelia is laying on a bench, wearing socks and is otherwise covered by just the belt and a plethora of bruises, scrapes and welts from the night’s match. We switch back to the phone view where Bea is giving Amelia a bit of a judgy look.
Amelia: “... I made the mistake of laying down for a second after my shower and all my muscles tightened up. Waiting for the ibuprofen to kick in before I try getting up again.”
Bea: “Just don’t spend the night in the locker room?”
Amelia grins at her aunt.
Amelia: “Are you kidding? I just won my first championship ever in the US! I’m going out to party!”
She sits up slowly, unable to keep in a groan of discomfort as she does.
Amelia: “The muscles will start to loosen up once I start dancing.”
Bea: “I’m sure the tequila will help too. Great job tonight, I’m proud of you.”
Amelia: “Thanks Auntie. See you in a few days. Love ya.”
Bea: “Love you too sweetie.”
The pair share big smiles before the call ends and the screen cuts to black.
We come back days later at a victory party in a bar, a banner with ‘CONGRAMULATIONS!’ hanging high as people drink and chat and laugh in the background, the camera focused on Wildheart as she sits on a tall stool, her back to the bar. The Canadian half of the Parallel champions is clad in a beautifully tailored black suit with a white shirt and black and yellow striped tie, hair held back by a matching headband. Her championship belt is draped over her shoulder, a tequila sunrise in her hand as she takes a long sip before shooting the camera a dazzling smile.
“Wounds heal, bruises fade but baby this?”
She gestures to the belt.
“Baby this kinda glory lasts forever! First ever Parallel Champions, me and Kyle Williams. And mom said that summer working for my uncle’s construction company would be a waste of time. ‘When are you ever gonna need to know how to operate a crane?!’ Learn as many skills as you can, kids, you’ll never know when you might need ‘em.”
Another long sip, polishing off the drink before setting the glass on the bar, all without looking away from the camera.
“Me and Kyle, we weren’t the team that’d been working together for years going into the match. We weren’t the best friends who’d travelled the roads together either. But we had each other’s backs, we fought our asses off, we walked out with the gold and if that ain’t what matters I don’t know what does. I don’t know who or what we defend these belts against first but I can tell you this right now, y’all better bring the Jaws of Life if you wanna pry this belt outta my hands.”
She reaches back for the fresh drink the bartender has already poured, grabbing it and taking another long sip all still without looking away from the camera.
“Actually, don’t let Danny hear that, he’ll turn it into some kinda match. Speaking of matches… man, Scuffed God, I don’t know if you dented Danny’s car or fucked his sister or what but I’m sorry in advance my dude. I’ll do what I can to end this match quick, save you some pain if I can because frankly I don’t love the idea of going four on one against anyone but hey, I didn’t make the match. And as far as Wolfslair?”
Amelia sips her drink again.
“If you’re feeling froggy… you know the rest. Now if y’all will excuse me, it’s karaoke time.”
She finishes off the drink before hopping off the stool and walking out of the shot before we fade to black.
Amelia: “Aunt Bea! We won!”
Her tone is tired but still elated, someone who has been through a long night and a long fight but with a smile on her face that a stool to the head couldn’t remove right now.
Bea: “I know, I saw! I mean, I didn’t want to watch the match until I knew you were okay but your cousins texted me to let me know! We’re so proud of you! How are you feeling?”
Amelia: “Sore. Very, very sore. I think my bruises have contusions on them. But who cares? I’m a champion!”
Bea: “You and Kyle! He seems so nice! I love his accent. Are he and that Tilly girl-”
Amelia: “No idea, I haven’t asked him yet. Didn’t want to make it weird. I mean, now that we’re tag champions we’ll have to be weird together so I won’t feel weird about asking him about it now-”
Bea: “You’re saying ‘weird’ a lot.”
Amelia: “Hey, I got hit in the head really friggin’ hard tonight, be happy I remembered how to work my phone.”
Bea: “Fine, fine. So if they aren’t together does that mean you two might-”
Amelia: “Auntie! You don’t sleep with your tag team partner! That’s a terrible idea!”
Amelia looks genuinely appalled at the thought.
Bea: “So if you two had lost tonight and decided to never team again it would’ve been completely fine-”
Amelia: “Sure, why not?”
Bea: “But because you’re co-champions it’s a bad idea?”
Amelia: “Exactly.”
Bea: “I don’t really understand.”
Amelia: “You don’t fuck where you eat, Auntie.”
Bea: “That is definitely NOT how that expression goes. Though I suppose it’s less gross than the actual expression. Anyway, show me the belt!”
The shot on Amelia’s side pans down her body to the belt, draped across her upper torso.
Bea: “It’s a gorgeous belt… wait, are you naked?”
Amelia: “Of course not!”
The shot switches to a wider view of the room from a more conventional camera. Amelia is laying on a bench, wearing socks and is otherwise covered by just the belt and a plethora of bruises, scrapes and welts from the night’s match. We switch back to the phone view where Bea is giving Amelia a bit of a judgy look.
Amelia: “... I made the mistake of laying down for a second after my shower and all my muscles tightened up. Waiting for the ibuprofen to kick in before I try getting up again.”
Bea: “Just don’t spend the night in the locker room?”
Amelia grins at her aunt.
Amelia: “Are you kidding? I just won my first championship ever in the US! I’m going out to party!”
She sits up slowly, unable to keep in a groan of discomfort as she does.
Amelia: “The muscles will start to loosen up once I start dancing.”
Bea: “I’m sure the tequila will help too. Great job tonight, I’m proud of you.”
Amelia: “Thanks Auntie. See you in a few days. Love ya.”
Bea: “Love you too sweetie.”
The pair share big smiles before the call ends and the screen cuts to black.
We come back days later at a victory party in a bar, a banner with ‘CONGRAMULATIONS!’ hanging high as people drink and chat and laugh in the background, the camera focused on Wildheart as she sits on a tall stool, her back to the bar. The Canadian half of the Parallel champions is clad in a beautifully tailored black suit with a white shirt and black and yellow striped tie, hair held back by a matching headband. Her championship belt is draped over her shoulder, a tequila sunrise in her hand as she takes a long sip before shooting the camera a dazzling smile.
“Wounds heal, bruises fade but baby this?”
She gestures to the belt.
“Baby this kinda glory lasts forever! First ever Parallel Champions, me and Kyle Williams. And mom said that summer working for my uncle’s construction company would be a waste of time. ‘When are you ever gonna need to know how to operate a crane?!’ Learn as many skills as you can, kids, you’ll never know when you might need ‘em.”
Another long sip, polishing off the drink before setting the glass on the bar, all without looking away from the camera.
“Me and Kyle, we weren’t the team that’d been working together for years going into the match. We weren’t the best friends who’d travelled the roads together either. But we had each other’s backs, we fought our asses off, we walked out with the gold and if that ain’t what matters I don’t know what does. I don’t know who or what we defend these belts against first but I can tell you this right now, y’all better bring the Jaws of Life if you wanna pry this belt outta my hands.”
She reaches back for the fresh drink the bartender has already poured, grabbing it and taking another long sip all still without looking away from the camera.
“Actually, don’t let Danny hear that, he’ll turn it into some kinda match. Speaking of matches… man, Scuffed God, I don’t know if you dented Danny’s car or fucked his sister or what but I’m sorry in advance my dude. I’ll do what I can to end this match quick, save you some pain if I can because frankly I don’t love the idea of going four on one against anyone but hey, I didn’t make the match. And as far as Wolfslair?”
Amelia sips her drink again.
“If you’re feeling froggy… you know the rest. Now if y’all will excuse me, it’s karaoke time.”
She finishes off the drink before hopping off the stool and walking out of the shot before we fade to black.