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No Need For A Title; ~ Momoko RP ~
Topic Started: Jul 23 2007, 06:50 PM (43 Views)
xwca
Unregistered

As if by magic, we find ourselves situated in a very familiar situation… your average not-too-pricy hotel room with women’s clothing situations in randomly placed spots around the soft white linen sheets, the maple-shaded carpets and various other household objects. Or, perhaps, this is not a situation you’re familiar with… much rather, it is a situation which some may hope they’d get into at some point in their life. Or never get into in their lives… whichever you may prefer.

But I digress…

The door to a nearby room suddenly opens and lo and behold, fanboygasms explode worldwide as Miss Momoko Wakari steps out wrapped in a white dressing down with her typically pigtailed locks of voluptuous bubblegum pink hair left down and still lightly moist from presumably her having just finished taking a shower.

And don’t you dare imagine her in the shower, else the dreaded Popobawa will sexually assault you in your sleep tonight.

The pink-haired Asian lady steps out barefoot into her room and takes a seat on beat before… picking up a brush and several black hair bobbles, looping them around her left hand and starting to cultivate her long locks of hair as according to her suitable tastes, calling upon her blood as a female to invoke the Discipline of Multitasking and give us a few words to chew on.

Momoko: A lot of people since I got into Las Vegas have been asking me the same question over and over again… and it’s gotten to a point where I got pissed off enough at the last person who asked that they become a recipient a backfist smash right across the nose.

As you can expect, blood and mucus went flying in every direction… hence why I just got out of the shower, but that’s besides the point.

The fact of the matter is, plenty of people have been turning to me and asking me; “Hey, Momoko… we all know you’re hardcore, extreme, ultra-violent and all that but this next match doesn’t really seem like it’s yours to take.” or it’s my favourite of “Wakari-san… are you nervous about what might happen in Las Vegas at the end of the month?”

And, truth be told, as much as I cannot be bothered at times to carry that hulking piece of silver and leather that feels like a surrogate baby half the time at least it doesn’t carry with it the eighteen years of responsibility, steal the last twenty out of my purse or invite strange people to my home during the early hours of the morning.


The Pink-Haired Demon gives a small dual set of hums to signify “no” as brushing of hair typically makes shaking of the head to signify the same thing far beyond what even the Discipline of Multitasking at Level 5 is capable of given the young Generation of Miss Wakari.

And suddenly, I wonder why I’m putting Kindred lexicon into this roleplay…

Momoko: No… much rather that metallic pain-in-the-ass adds an extra couple of digits to my weekly paycheque from the folk upstairs who, I would hope, would like to see it in as pristine condition as can be and defended as accordingly as I see fit with people of whom I would gladly be happy to face and subsequently introduce them to a hospital bed once their five minutes of fame is up.

And, I suppose in some small part, what I’m looking forwards to in Las Vegas is just that… because if there is anything about wrestling for FIW that I love, is getting the opportunity to mangle the facial features of Kailey Lane yet another time.

Don’t ask me why, folks… but I love to beat up Kailey Lane. It’s just something about her that gets me worked up enough that stabbing her in the face is nigh on irresistible, it’s just something about the sound my hand makes when it cracks across her face and most importantly it’s that sickening moan she lets out whenever I hit a Double Foot Stomp right on the middle of her chest that I can’t get out of anyone in the entire roster.

I could spent every day for four weeks straight beating the shit out of Kailey Lane and still couldn‘t get enough of it! So, for whomever is writing the booking sheets these days, thank you very much and I shall send the letter-bombs to Uwe Boll from now on.

But, like every rose, this match has it‘s thorn…


Clearing out her throat with a small and polite cough, Momoko then begins to brush her hair on one side in preparation to style it into her famed pigtails…

Momoko: Crackerjack… no matter how many times I hear that name I can’t help but picture someone who really should consider either a different career or someone else to poke their business in with.

Reason I say this is, of all the people who I feel would deserve a chance to wrestle me, and for the FIW Undisputed International Title of all things, he ranks right there down at the bottom along with Dragon and the rest of the no-names earning enough to buy a ham and egg sandwich.

In fact, if you added up all those ham n‘ eggers and compared it to power of what I think Crackerjack is worth it‘d be barely enough for you to buy a Happy Meal.

And what really sours me about this match is that it‘s one fall to a finish… meaning, obviously, I don‘t have to be pinned to lose the match and this belt which is as ridiculous a notion as thinking someone getting their daughter pregnant would actually draw money for the world‘s biggest flea circus.

Which, subsequently means, I won‘t be able to take what pleasure I get in kicking Kailey repeatedly in the ribs and not have to have eyes in the back of my head for that bulbous, pear-shaped bastard looking to seize whatever opportunity he can get.


Even though the promo has taken somewhat of a sour turn, it doesn’t seem to have hampered Momoko’s pigtail tying abilities as she finished one side and begins to work on the other…

Momoko: Nevertheless, we are in the gambling capital of America if not the entire world. The home of Elvis impersonators, mobster casino owners and the movie Showgirls which, of course, was a horrendous movie for reasons we need not divulge.

Well, OK… I‘ll just say that after seeing it only once I hated with a passion. If it had anymore plot holes, Mijutso would have fallen into them on the way to the bathroom.

But I digress… we are in the epicentre of gambling, ground zero if you will, and the thing about gambling is, no matter what the game, you have to be willing to know that the House always has the advantage and sooner or later, you will lose.

You never want to play Poker with me, because you know I’ll cheat… if you’ve got four Queens, I’ve got five Kings. If you’re playing Blackjack and you’ve got 21, I’ll have that too. And don’t get me started on the Roulette wheel…

Like I said before, the key thing about gambling is… you will one day have to accept losing. But see, I don’t accept losing.


The Pink-Haired Asian Gothic Lolita ties the other length of hair into a pigtail before passing a quizzical glance at the camera…

Momoko: Do you?

And we fade to black…
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