Suicide Is Painless.

[Wolverina]

At a point in time somewhere in the foreseeable future, probably at the tail end of Red, White, and Bruised, or one of the weekly programs, the camera sweeps the parking lot area. Its eye only picks up a vehicle here and there, sporadically spaced throughout. Nowhere is seen a person though, until the backstage entrance/exit door slowly creaks open and out steps the world's sexiest Stockholm syndrome sufferer, Wolverina. She's got her purse, which her right hand is placed in, and her attire is fitting of her normal self - casual summer.



Curiously absent from her flanks, cooing her as though she was a celestial being, is Jaggeroth and his merry group of evil doers. This vacancy is perhaps due to the fact that she is unafraid of the looming threat that is Vladimir Strife, or perhaps it's one of her many brilliant traps to lure the Rampaging Romanian in? Whatever the case may be, she marches on, head and eyes carefully scanning every nook and cranny of her surroundings. Getting closer to her absolutely gorgeous black and gold 2010 Dodge Charger, she begins humming and singing and oldie but a goodie.

"These boots are made for walking, and that's just what they'll do, Vlad one of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you."

Her mobile fortress of solitude is mere feet away, anytime now, anytime. She removes her hand from her purse, the .45 pistol appearing clutched in it. The near side is safe, no pissed off God King to be found. The far side of the car, that's a different story. She slowly maneuvers around the trunk, getting closer to the far side while bringing the weapon up ready to fire. Haven forces a big gulp of saliva down her throat, her heart beating at an increasing and alarming rate - rapid, heaving breaths doing amazing things to her bountiful breasts. As she finally rounds the corner to the moment of do or die .... fear, nervousness, excitement, emotion A through Z all run their course, a volatile mixture that dominates every fiber of her being....

TBCB Oh you (they know who).

[Vladimir T. Strife]

Finding nothing at the side of her car, Wolverina sighs. Relieved at a reprieve to her worries for tonight, yet a little sad that she didn't get her opportunity to down the GodKing, she unlocks her car. With a tug upon the handle, she swings the door open and takes her seat while a yawn escapes her. It had been a tiring day and there was a warm bed awaiting her at home - the idea alone was enough to bring a small smile to her face. She slips the key into the ignition, gun still in her hand in case of an unexpected assault and twists it into place. As the car starts, something quite unexpected indeed happens. Music begins to blare from the radio, her volume having been turned to max.



Her free hand shoots for the stereo and she quickly turns down the volume. What she finds as she does so only disturbs her further. A solitary .45 caliber bullet is taped to the faceplate of her radio and it takes less than a second for the pieces to fall into place inside the Princess's mind. Vlad was no where to be found as she left the building because he had already visited it tonight.

Suddenly, her mind turns sharply towards the multitude of crime based television shows where the killer or rapist or general psychopath popped up from the back seat. Her eyes dart to the rear view mirror as her hold upon the Smith and Wesson tightens. The Behemoth was nowhere in sight, but this did little to ease her mind in the moment. Across the back seats, written in reverse as to become clear only through a mirror, crimson streaks spelled out a simple message, left especially for her: "DO IT"

TBCB Wolfie

[Wolverina]

Through the building's brick walls and the backstage door's metallic thickness comes a ear splitting scream. The members of GHW's Security element were heading out anyway, and are the ones who, sadly, take the full force of the blood curdling wail. They're brave though, even though they shouldn't be, given their below minimum wage pay and duty hazards. The lead man theatrically boots the door open and charges outside with a sense of gallantry, his fellow "officers" following suit. They immediately catch sight of Wolverina in the distance, her gun held hand at her side, the other upon her head with a tight grasp of her hair. They rush toward her, the lead man tossing out hand signals as though this was some kind of World War Two Military maneuver. His underlings obey and break flank, going into different directions with the same end point - Haven Cassady.

"What the hell? HURRY UP! Vladimir Strife broke into my car! HE HURT MY BABY!!!"

They pick up speed and finally reach her from different angles. She is clearly shaken up from the concoction of emotions flowing through, and limply motions toward her car, the door still open. She doesn't say anything, as the adrenaline is starting to wear off under the umbrella of safety now surrounding her. The lead man, also the biggest and most bad ass looking of the whole bunch, grabs her by the shoulders in a consoling manner.

"Ma'am, just calm down. We're here and everything is going to be ok. Tell me what happened."

She looks up to him, her ocean blue orbs big and full.

"It was Vlad. I got into my car and was going to start it and when I did, the stereo was already on full blast. It was also playing a song called 'Suicide Is Painless'! Then... then.. there was a .45 bullet taped to my faceplate and"

The big man cuts her off, wanting so desperately to be the hero of the day.

"Don't worry your pretty little head, Ms Cassady. We'll find Vlad and bring him to justice!"

Thinking this would melt Haven into his arms as if he were her knight in shining armor, he's rudely surprised by her yelling into his face.

"No, you dipstick! Jaggy will make him pay justice. The Circus and this here .45 is all the protection I need. I'm not afraid of Strife! I'm nail biting MAD about my damn BACK SEATS! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH IT COST TO GET THEM CUSTOM MADE LIKE THAT? They're not your average stock seats. They cost me thousands of dollars! I'm gonna have to fork over a buttload of cash to get them cleaned and fixed! AHHHHH!"

She huffs and puffs and walks up to her car and looks inside, swatting away some of the security personnel in there doing their best CSI investigation. Upon looking at the words again, now backwards obviously, she sighs and utters something...

"I hear ya, Vlad. Suicide is painless."

She stands upright, peering at her car with a quick once over.

"Too bad, I'm addicted to pain."

EOT Comments Welcomed. (Decided to tweak the predictable outcome of this one lol.)