A brilliant idea!

[Brad Windsor]

Early through the show, on the first few minutes of the explosive Dawn of Destruction pay-per-view, a segment begins with Kahlan’s face grinning inches away from the lens. She is obviously holding the camera by its front. The fans inside the arena go wild with cheering as soon as they witness the scene via the Tron. Extending the time lapse where the wicked expression simply leers into the camera, the blue haired enigma at last pulls away to straighten up. The move drops the camera back into the possession of its rightful owner, the unknown cameraman. Considering that a few nights ago this chick had took a fall from forty feet above the ground just to be then Choke-Slammed directly through the actual wrestling ring, she looks in pretty good shape.

“If you want to see some action then I suggest you follow me junior.” With her finger beckoning Kahlan puts emphasis on her sentence, before she turns away and starts walking down the corridor backstage. Obediently the camera starts to follow in her steps. Amid the march past random people and equipment required to run a wrestling television programme, every now and again the scene lewdly drops to the Ladder Queen’s lower body as she meanders her way forward. The tight, cute rump seems to have thrown the camera boy completely into a dreamy realm for when the legs stop moving the magnification gets bigger without any zooming. Suddenly the view takes a knock as the lens bumps into the standstill figure. The scene gets readjusted clumsily, just in time to catch Kahlan looking over her shoulder to wink. With her nodding towards the door they’re stood in front of she reaches out and swings it open.

Inside, Grimey C.Whiskey the current, most recent general manager of TNT is standing with hands in trouser pockets. He is suspiciously looking upward at the ceiling, but when he hears the door open he turns to regard the intruder. His expression remains unreadable as Kahlan walks in.

“GRIMEY!” Kahlan’s sweet voice rings around as she stomps forward and throws her arms around the man. The tight hug dishevels Whiskey’s prior composed stance but otherwise he stays rooted in his spot. Kahlan squeezes the GM for another ten to twenty seconds before letting go. Her more than friendly smile lingers for a few seconds longer than a genuine facial feature. “Grimey, I've come all this way to congratulate you on your success!” The affectionate voice however is as honest as one can sound.

“A job well did sir! It wasn’t easy taking over a deteriorated, uninteresting, on-the-brink –of-bankruptcy-company from that fool Smarky and make it profitable again. But you did it! Allow me to congratulate you on that accomplishment. That is beside the fact that this last pay-per-view, DOD was indeed a phenomenal success. You sir strike me as a man of vision, and I know you want to build on this success. When Smarky was running things, he had the Jake Diamond and the Hayden Hardkore. Yet, he still somehow managed to fail miserably at producing a watchable show. Today you don’t have them. Indeed you don’t have MANY with that sort of calibre. What you do have is a crop of young and upcoming talent trying desperately to break through their proverbial glass ceilings and make a name for themselves in the business instead… But worry not because I’m back babe.” Kahlan’s sly grin of minutes ago returns.

“I bring to you the word of the fans, the people who pay your salary as well as everyone else who work here. They talk to me, they tell of the things they wish to come true. After all this is no secret, everyone knows about this. I am their messiah. Consider me as your prophet on this case Grimey. They tell me they want to see change. Please don’t take this the wrong way, what you’re doing is excellent, what I mean is, what THEY mean is that they want a GHW World Championship change. Now what you need to do is to answer the fans’ call. Respond to their pleas. To do that and be successful, you need to name ME the number one contender for the GHW title. Do you see the genius behind this?! By naming the Cutting Enigma as the number one contender you’re GAURANTEED a title change of hands. How great is this? You’re about to give the fans the only individual with the most charismatic showmanship and unbeatable wrestling skills WITH A PAIR OF TITS!”

Kahlan’s head drops to her perched out bosom before her eyes come back up to regard Grimey with the return of her grin. She roughly pats the man on the shoulder. “’KAY MATE?”

TBCB Grimey

[Psychotic Circus]

Grimey C. Whiskey, the Pink Pimp himself, former manager to the most psychotic and blood thirsty Fighty fighty person on this decaying planet has his eyes adjusted straight into the crevice of Kahlan's ample apple basket. He couldn't even begin to think of a response while her wonder twins were pointed and ready to deliver it seemed.

"....I...Um....Think that would be a lovely concept if you were to...."


Even the massive amounts of strippers and blow hidden in his closet couldn't turn Grimey away from Kahlan's elegant looks and demeanor. His attention was fully put on her, and not the cigarette that was about to burn his shag rug carpeting. The Pride of the Red Light District went and sat down behind his desk instead of facing a possible sexual assault of the aggressive kind, being joined by Miss. Clarkson on the opposite side. His greasy hands stroked each other at the palm while the inside of his head spun around with thoughts of how to get those sharp nips caressed in them.

"Miss Clarkson, I would love to give you a title shot, but I'm afraid we already have a number one contender, and he would rip my bile duct out and show it to me if I was to give his shot away..."

Kahlan sat across from the General Manger, making her lips perk and puff like a duck's beak. Grimey's eyes about rolled into the back of his head from the intoxication of The Cut Chick's succulent tenders as she puffed them up inside her skimpy outfit and pushed them together with her shoulders, giving a little swipe across the open air. Grimey did the only thing he could to get his mind out of the gutter, and that was shoving it straight in. His hands lifted up and his palms gave a little squeeze in the air.

"Hooters, hooters yum yum yum...hooters, hooters on a girl that's dumb..."


"Excuse me?"


"Honk, honk!"


"Grimey....my title shot? How about it, Big Boy?"


Grimey centered himself and fidgeted around in his office chair, reaching for the hand sized mirror in his drawer and a bag of white powder. The camera man is shooed away by his boss with a threat of anal destruction at the hands of his former associate.


"Hey Grimey..."

"...Jerry, now is not the time...."

The Shotgun Kid walked in announced and headed straight for Grimey's closet, pulling out one of his "party favors" for after the PPV and slid onto the couch with her before throwing a fat wad of bills over to Grimey, which he quickly pocketed.

"Anyways! Miss Clarkson, I really would like to give you title shot, I would. But seeing as Wolverina is still T.V champion, I task I have given you repeated tries at to make not be going on anymores around here, and the fact that you're in the KOTDM title scene tonight, along with my lazy co-hort over there..."

Jerry flips Grimey the double bird from behind the rump of his ill-gotten, and probably underage stripper.

"Stupid son of a bitch....so, as you can see, my hands are tied to the bedpost on this one, much like the fate that awaits the chicks in my closet...Jaggeroth is still lurking about and getting a hard on as he creeps about the GHW locker rooms like a perverted stalker, and he's the number one contender. The only reason Barta Bull is going against the Santiago tonight is because he feels that the time isn't right to come forth and beat the ever loving shit out of Santiago, and if he so chooses that the next PPV is more to his liking, then there ain't shit I'm going to do to stop it. Needless to say, Miss Clarkson, if that is your real name, you've had a habit of not showing up to shows, or doing much of anything in the past. And I'm not even sure the fans want to see that. A women? New Age champion? I don't think my ratings could handle the pure torture...I have a show to run, and this mad house we call GHW needs leadership, and not a gun powder psychopath who has been wrong gunning for me while I leave the building....That is, unless there was something...you could, I don't know, offer me...maybe make me re-think your credentials a tad bit and maybe we can tweak you into a...position...that is more to OUR liking..."


Grimey's upper lip quivered a bit along with the possibly drawn on mustache while he poured some "sugar" over the mirror and straightened it into a neatly positioned line.


"Grimey, you dog you!"


TBCB: Kahlan

[Brad Windsor]

Kahlan’s brilliant smile of minutes ago returns instantly. She holds a finger up. “Ah of course. I knew you would be inclined to say those things because of the pressure you’re under. But worry not. It is only fair to demand a payment in return for a favour.“

Kahlan’s back straightens erect while seated before Grimey. The motion stretches her already ridiculously tight T to its very limits.

“You see I have a solution in mind. I have a solution given to me by the millions of my fans out there via the social media and in person. Why it is easy for us to come to some arrangement and maybe even FURTHER our association down the line. In two weeks’ time, on the second Triumph following the DOD, you should give me what I, sorry THE FANS, want and that is the GHW title match in a sort of environment that Dominik, God forbid if he is to retain, is going to have no chance in retaining.” Kahlan raises an eyebrow. “Like… um… in a ladder match?”

The tone and demeanour of the Cutting Chick suddenly slows something awful. Her hand moves over to the middle of the desk, where she traces her finger along the length of a forgotten cigar. Her voice comes out only just above a whisper. “In return I’m sure we can negotiate something-” She throws a glance over her shoulder at the camera and Jerry before looking back at Grimey with her dreamy eyes. “-in a more private place. You must realise Kahlan is willing to pay almost anything for whatever she happens to want badly enough.” Kahlan’s tender stroking of the cigar continues while she holds the eye contact with Grimey. The silence is prolonged until suddenly Kahlan withdraws her hand and sits back in her chair. Her tone of voice returns to normal and her speech speeds up once again.

“One more thing, don’t you ever bring up that little obnoxious slut’s name in front of me again. I’m sick of it. Who does she think she is? The female version of Hayden?! How many times do I have to beat her thick skull so as it would finally get through to her that she isn’t good enough to be compared to me? Just this week on TNT I beat her again. I’ve lost count of the amount of times I’ve left her humiliated in the centre of the ring with thousands watching. What I need you to do is to make sure I don’t have to see her ever again. Assign her locker room to the furthest end from mine, not that she needs it anyway the way she dresses. Book her flights on different planes to mine. Keep her off of the live events I’m in. And don’t book her in any of my matches again for Christ’s sake. I don’t know what else you need to do, just make her disappear. Better yet if you could somehow find a way and fire her. This company doesn’t need her likes.”

TBCB Grimey