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The Return of Gothic Angel Andrews; RP 76
Topic Started: Nov 5 2006, 09:36 PM (86 Views)
Angel
Administrator
[ *  *  * ]
[dohtml] <p align="center"><font color="#000000" style="font-size: 11pt"> The scene
opens with the long since forgotten Angel Andrews. Not only has she been
forgotten by those in the NLCW, but she has also been forgotten by her very
own husband. Now being <b>one</b> week away from All Hallows Eve, the night
Frank and A told her they would return, Angel is very nervous. And no, she is
not nervous about being in front of a thousand plus fans. That she can handle.
She is not nervous about signing her NLCW contract. She knows that JLR will
screw her over contract wise anyway. Angel doe s not look like herself, she is
thinner than usual, her face is a little gaunt. She is wearing an Ethan
Andrews baby doll tee that she has had since before she met her husband. Along
with some cut off jean shorts. <b>And of course she still wears her wedding
rings</b>. Angel gets up off of the couch in her loft
apartment that is located above her garage. She walks to the large bay window
and looks in the direct of her and Ethan's home. Angel lets out a soft sigh.</font></p>
<p align="center">
<font color="#FF9900">
<span style="font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic">- I wonder if he is even
there.... -</span></font><p align="center">
<span style="font-size: 11pt">She turns away, moving to her phone. She looks
down at it.</span><p align="center">
<font color="#FF9900">
<span style="font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic">- Just call him you
coward. Maybe he'll answer this time. Maybe it won't hurt so bad this time.
You know how much you love him, just look at yourself. -</span></font><p align="center">
<span style="font-size: 11pt">Angel lifts her head and looks at one of the
mirrors in her apartment. She see's what she has become, her eyes drift down
to the fresh track marks in her once perfect arms. A tear rolls down her
cheek, almost making her look like a porcelain doll. She shakes her head and
moves to the kitchen. She grabs a bottle of Jack Daniels off the counter and
opens it up, taking a big swig out of it. She chugs some of it's contents,
gulp... gulp... gulp...</span><p align="center">
<font color="#FF9900">
<span style="font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic">- Oh god... what is that
pain I feel in my chest. And why won't it go away.. -</span></font><p align="center">
<span style="font-size: 11pt">Angel puts the bottle down on the counter,
taking the time to catch her breath. She walks to the phone and picks it up,
she dials a number without thinking. She waits, then once she gets the
machine... she sighs. Angel puts on her best face, smiling so the person on
the other end does not hear her pain. She even puts some happiness into her
voice.</span><font color="#000000" style="font-size: 11pt"><br>
<br>
</font><font style="font-size: 11pt" color="#FFCC99"><b>Angel: </b></font>
<font color="#FFCC99"><span style="font-size: 11pt"><b> </b>Hey Ethan
honey... it's me... your wife... Angel... I wanted to talk to you about next
Sunday.... Maybe we could have lunch or something?</span></font><p align="center">
<font color="#000000" style="font-size: 11pt"> Angel stood there waiting for
her husband to pick up the phone. When he didn't she felt even emptier
inside now, than she did a few moments ago. Her voice faltered some, the
happiness leaving it.<br>
<br>
</font><font style="font-size: 11pt" color="#FFCC99"><b>Angel: </b></font>
<font color="#FFCC99"><span style="font-size: 11pt"><b> </b>Ok...
well... </span></font><p align="center">
<span style="font-size: 11pt">She fell silent, more tears rolling down her
cheeks.</span><p align="center">
<font color="#FF9900">
<span style="font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic">- Damn it, Angel. He can't
know you are dying without him. Buck up girl. He may be out partying. Or just
talking with Frankie, J and A... -</span></font><p align="center">
<span style="font-size: 11pt">Angel quickly recovers, wiping her tears away.
Her voice confident once more.</span><font color="#000000" style="font-size: 11pt"><br>
<br>
</font><font style="font-size: 11pt" color="#FFCC99"><b>Angel: </b></font>
<font color="#FFCC99"><span style="font-size: 11pt"><b> </b>I guess
I'll just wait for you to call me back. You have my number... I am still
staying above the garage... </span></font><p align="center">
<font color="#000000" style="font-size: 11pt"> Angel paused, hoping he'd
pick up. Nope. Silence.<br>
<br>
</font><font style="font-size: 11pt" color="#FFCC99"><b>Angel: </b></font>
<font color="#FFCC99"><span style="font-size: 11pt"><b> </b>I love you.</span></font><p align="center">
<font color="#000000" style="font-size: 11pt"> She then hung up the phone
and sat down.
Then sat there and stared at it in silence.</font><p align="center">
<font color="#FF9900">
<span style="font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic">- He is really pissed at me.
Does he even know that I go and sign my NLCW Contract tomorrow? Does he even
care? I mean if he did he would atleast return my fucking phone calls. I have
called him over a million times. FUCK! Why do I even still bother? Oh. That's
right. I still love him. I still want him. I still need him. -</span></font><p align="center">
<span style="font-size: 11pt">Angel stands up and looks around, she smirks
seeing the NLCW camera crew.</span><font color="#000000" style="font-size: 11pt"><br>
<br>
</font><font style="font-size: 11pt" color="#FFCC99"><b>Angel: </b></font>
<font color="#FFCC99"><span style="font-size: 11pt"><b> </b>Wow....
long time no see... </span></font><p align="center">
<font color="#000000" style="font-size: 11pt"> She grinned. Despite the
physical state of Angel, her apartment is rather clean. Save for the white
powdery mess on her coffee table. The couple of needles that are on there as
well. Angel makes no effort to hide what is there. She walks to her kitchen,
letting them follow her. <br>
<br>
</font><font color="#FFCC99"><font style="font-size: 11pt"><b>Angel:
<span style="font-size: 11pt"> </span></b>I guess the boss sent you
guys out here to make sure I will be there tomorrow to sign my contract, so
that I can return to the NLCW?</font></font><p align="center">
<span style="font-size: 11pt">Angel smirks, a man off camera confirms what she
just said.</span><p align="center">
<font color="#FF9900">
<span style="font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic">- What an asshole he is.
Does he fucking think I am going to bail out at last minute. I am not walking
away from the NLCW anymore. I am here for good. -</span></font><p align="center">
<span style="font-size: 11pt">Angel chuckles, pouring herself a glass of
jack.</span><font color="#000000" style="font-size: 11pt"><br>
<br>
</font><font color="#FFCC99"><font style="font-size: 11pt"><b>Angel:
<span style="font-size: 11pt"> </span></b><span style="font-size: 11pt">Well,
it is good that you guys are here because there are a few people I want to
address.... like Tanya Black... the Sinful Angel?</span></font></font><p align="center">
<font color="#000000" style="font-size: 11pt"> Angel laughs.<br>
<br>
</font><font color="#FFCC99"><font style="font-size: 11pt"><b>Angel: </b>
<span style="font-size: 11pt"> What the fuck? Can't come up with your own
shit so you wait until I am long gone and steal mine? It won't work ya cunt.
Did you seriously think that I would stay gone? I am like a bad habit that
no one can shake. I am the one that makes young boys play pocket pool in the
seats. Then during breaks, they go to the bathroom and beat off to thought
of me running through their little minds. Now don't get me wrong, it is not
just little boys that do it... Women do it too... I have gotten plenty
of fan mail from women who tell me how they would love to have a taste of
Gothic Angel Andrews. The Original Angel of NLCW. </span></font></font><p align="center">
<span style="font-size: 11pt">Angel smirks, gesturing to herself for a moment.</span><p align="center">
<font style="font-size: 11pt" color="#FFCC99"><b>Angel: </b></font>
<font color="#FFCC99"><span style="font-size: 11pt">I am the longest
reigning NLCW Womens champion. And from what I have see, only one has been
able to measure up to me and that is Scarlett Williams, the current Womens
Champ. She may actually be able to beat my reign...</span></font><p align="center">
<font color="#FF9900">
<span style="font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic">- Maybe she really can beat
my reign? who knows... -</span></font><p align="center">
<span style="font-size: 11pt">Angel shrugs.</span><font color="#000000" style="font-size: 11pt"><br>
<br>
</font><font style="font-size: 11pt" color="#FFCC99"><b>Angel: </b></font>
<font color="#FFCC99"><span style="font-size: 11pt"><b> </b>Time will
tell, now. Won't it? Of course it will. Time always tells. It is the one
thing in this world that can't keep a secret. Tanya... You know that I won't
let you call yourself the Sinful Angel. Not unless you can give good cause
to be called one. And being a lesbian don't cut it. Being a champion don't
cut it. </span></font><p align="center">
<font color="#000000" style="font-size: 11pt"> Angel rolls her eyes some.<br>
<br>
</font><font style="font-size: 11pt" color="#FFCC99"><b>Angel: </b>I also
know that you don't care what I think, what I want or what I won't let you
do. I know you won't let that stop you from calling yourself whatever you
want. So save all of that bullshit for someone who don't know you or your
game. I don't care about you, your petty emotions or thoughts. This is just
about you stealing my shit. Now get he fuck outta here... </font>
<p align="center">
<span style="font-size: 11pt"> Angel turns away from the crew, drinking
from her glass. The scene fades out from there, sound is however still there
as glass shatters against a wall. Then there is the long awaited silence
that most desired.</span>[/dohtml]
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