Alicia Goon 032: Trifecta

Content warning, highlight the hidden text between the lines: 

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Descriptions of blood and violence

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It had been a long night.

At least, that was Alicia's assessment as Kat and Trace lifted her into a reverse piggyback position on one shoulder each. Alicia hadn't had a chance to consult the near-motionless Party Girl in the center of the ring to get her take on the evening so far. A pair of bespectacled fans sifted through the plastic storage bin they were holding and extracted what looked like a printer/scanner, which they tossed onto the floor at the feet of their favorite tag team. A few drops of blood from Alicia's nose dripped onto the machine just as Kat reached out with the toe of her boot and opened up the lid to reveal the scanner glass.

Alicia cocked her left fist back and unloaded a flurry of wild punches down onto the foreheads of her captors to little effect. The goon's stomach lurched as I.T. Factor gave her a Double Powerbomb back-first onto the exposed glass to a horrific shatter-crunch that made the fans collectively wince. Nothing had ever hurt like this. Alicia gasped, and gasped, and gasped, and gasped in pain, trying to process it all. She could already feel the back of her jersey start to dampen from the lacerations. The two red-collar professionals shared a high-five between themselves and their coworkers in the front row before alternating stomps on their twitching victim's forehead. It might have been the probable concussion talking, but Alicia swore she heard a voice in the crowd calling out to her.

Kat Cable reached over the barricade to take a keyboard from a bearded man in a too-tight polo. From Alicia's vantage, she could see that each and every key seemed to have a thumbtack carefully glued to it and wondered how long a project like that took. "Make sure this one doesn't get back up," said Kat to her partner. "Then help me finish off Blondie."

"Yes ma'am," replied Trace in a deferential tone. Trace reached over the barricade for something as Kat slid into the ring. The unassuming Trace clutched the steel folding chair by the sides with both hands and raised it above her head before slamming the top of the seat-back down onto Alicia's forehead. The world flashed then went momentarily dark.

"-cia!" 

And then snapped back into focus as the sound of her name in the crowd roused the former hockey player. Who is that? Trace knelt down beside Alicia and rubbed her fingers roughly across her downed opponent's forehead, then dramatically turned her hand around to show Alicia her own blood. Still kneeling beside her battered opponent, the Troubled Troubleshooter raised her bloody hand to her own face and smeared Alicia's blood across it, leaving four vivid, vertical red streaks before performatively licking the rest off her fingers. As the I.T. vampire slid back into the ring, folding chair in hand, Alicia felt "troubled" might not have been a strong enough word.

With a groan, Alicia rolled off the printer/scanner, her body heavy and barely responsive. Every muscle in her body ached as Alicia crawled for the ring apron and tried to pull herself back up. Nearly to her feet, Alicia turned her head just in time to see Trace's boot barrelling towards her. Stars exploded in Alicia's vision as her head snapped back and her feet flew out from beneath her. She felt something small tumble down her throat as her mouth filled with the overwhelming taste of copper. Alicia spat a mouthful of blood on the dark floor and probed her top and bottom teeth with her tongue. Karma had finally caught up. 

Trace climbed into the ring through the top and middle ropes and waited in the corner for her cue, seemingly unaware of the furious powerhouse clinging to the ring apron and once again rising to her feet. Inside the ring, Kat Cable scraped Party Girl off the canvas, picked her up, and bodyslammed the star back-first onto the thumbtack keyboard, eliciting a troublingly listless response from the thoroughly beaten celebrity. Trace watched from the corner nearest to Alicia with a tight grip on the folding chair. Kat and Trace both cupped a hand to their mouths as they and the front-row ticket holders bellowed in unison, "P.E.B.K.A.C.!"

The heck is pebcack?

Whatever it was, it was Trace's turn as she lifted the chair high above her head and dashed towards Party Girl. Alicia dove under the bottom rope, arms outstretched in front of her. Just as the chair started its downward trajectory towards Party Girl's chest, Alicia's fingers wrapped around Trace's ankle in a desperate shoestring tackle, causing the I.T. unprofessional to tumble face-first to the mat. Alicia winced at re-aggravating the soreness in her right hand, but with another tremendous surge of effort, the goon managed to pull Tracy Roote back out of the ring. A quick glance into the ring revealed Kat Cable taking matters into her own hands as she came off the ropes and leaped high into the air, attempting to land butt-first on top of the barely stirring fashion icon. 

As soon as Kat was airborne, Party Girl rolled clear of the landing zone, allowing the stout supervisor to crash down onto the thumbtack keyboard. The shock on Kat's face turned to horror--eyes wide, face contorted into a silent scream as she crushed the spiny equipment beneath her.

"-licia!" There was that voice again.

Outside the ring, Trace had regained her bearings, and she still had that chair. Alicia tried to get out of the way as her opponent swung the weapon, but the steel clattered into the rookie's mangled back, causing her to cry out in anguish. The rookie stumbled off-balance toward the barricade as the woman wearing Alicia's blood as warpaint stalked closer. Alicia's back stung and throbbed and ached and burned as she bumped against the steel rail. Trace gripped the chair tight as she stalked after the beleaguered powerhouse. Alicia saw the steel in time to throw herself clear and was momentarily confused when she still heard a sickening clang followed by a collective gasp from the crowd. 

Whatever it was had Trace momentarily distracted. She was even more distracted when Party Girl jumped off the ring apron and slammed the thumbtack keyboard between the Troubleshooter's shoulder blades. Alicia reached up and grabbed the barricade again to pull herself up to find a gaggle of I.T. staff huddled around an unconscious techie; she assumed there would probably be an email about it at Kat's office.

"That's my friend! Let me through!" There was that voice in the crowd again. It was close. "Miss Alicia!"

Alicia wiped the blood from her eyes and forehead as she looked into the stands. "No way," she whispered, feeling goosebumps coming on. There was a stir in the crowd as the second row stood up to let the frantic, salt-and-pepper-haired office manager through, closer to the gap that had opened in the human wall. Elation and confusion commingled on Alicia's face as she blinked in disbelief. "Miss Maxine?!"

The septuagenarian had something clutched tight to her body as she pushed past the other members of the crowd and reached reached over the glut of frantic help deskers trying to revive one of their own. In her thick, wrinkled hands, she held the saddest waste of chlorophyll Alicia could've asked for. The office manager shouted over the roar of the crowd, "Miss Alicia, take it!" Trace threw her head backwards and cracked Party Girl in the jaw, causing her to drop the keyboard and stumble towards the side of the ring. Just as Alicia grabbed the potted fern, so did Trace. 

Party Girl coughed for help over the boisterous crowd, "The Goon!" 

Alicia turned to find the bloodthirsty supervisor leaning over the middle rope. She had looped what looked like a phone cord around the fashion icon's throat and pulled it taut. Alicia and Trace leaned over the barricade as they struggled for possession of nature's cruelest joke. Trace reached over with her free hand and grasped for one of her opponent's french braids, while Alicia saw a fan chowing down in the second row and thought she could go for some nachos.

With one hand still firmly gripped around the affront to horticulture, Alicia threw herself over the barricade, stretching as far as she could for a second row audience member's plastic nacho tray. A triumphant, crimson smile crossed Alicia's lips as she grabbed a handful of jalapeños. She wheeled back over the barricade and mashed the soggy lump of pickled peppers into Trace's eyes, causing the Disgruntled Employee of the Month to release her grip on the fern and collapse to the floor, clawing at her face and screaming in fury and pain. Alicia grit her teeth trying to hold onto the fern as she pulled it back over the barricade as a few noodly arms in the front grasped for the wilted weapon in vain.

You were a worthy adversary, fern. You may die with honor.

In a single motion, Alicia whipped the hanging fern straight into the crown of Kat Cable's head. The clay shattered on impact, leaving both Party Girl's and Kat's faces and hair a mess of sweat, potting soil, and bright blue from about ten times too much Planter's Pal plant food. Kat dangled over the middle rope, completely limp. Party Girl reached up and grabbed Kat around the back of the head and dropped to her butt on the floor, snapping the former rugby player's throat across the center strand. Kat bounced off the rope and landed in a seated position, eyes closed, chin resting against her chest, not moving. Party Girl slid into the ring and sprinted into the far ropes, ricocheting back at speed. She leaped into the air as she passed by Kat and shot a scintillating side-kick known as The Unvitation into the motionless I.T. Faction member's temple. A hideous smack of skull and shoe leather echoed through the arena as Kat slumped to the mat. 

Party Girl rolled Kat onto her back and went for the cover as the referee dove to the canvas for the three-count. 

"One!"

Trace must have heard the count and sprang to her feet, rushing for the ring to try and break up the pin. Alicia spat another mouthful of blood onto the floor as she grabbed her opponent's shoulder and spun the teary-eyed combatant around before doubling her over with a boot to the midsection. 

"Two!"

Alicia pulled Trace into a side headlock, repositioned herself closer to the printer/scanner, and fell backward, driving her opponent forehead-first onto what remained of the printer with a brutal DDT, ending the Troubleshooter's evening in a crash of glass and plastic that sent a cheer through the crowd.

"Three!" 

Ding ding ding.

The cheers turned to a roar as the ref's hand struck the mat a third time. Despite the intense stabbing sensation in the small of her back, Alicia wanted to lay on the ground until they decided to tear down the arena and put up something else. Gritting through the pain, the rookie pushed herself to her hands and knees and somehow stood up. Party Girl danced and posed in the ring as the referee raised her hand in victory. Alicia watched as the TV star pulled her hand away, walked to the ropes, and stuck her tongue out at the dejected I.T. staff surrounding the ring, many of whom had already begun to file out of the building. They're in for a rough team huddle on Monday.

The exhausted young wrestler found Maxine in the stands and leaned over the now-empty row 1 seats and held hands with her coworker and guardian angel. Alicia's eyes turned warm and her vision smudged. "Wh- What?"

"Honey, I come to all your matches. Whenever they say you're gonna fight, I'm here."

The wrestler raised a trembling hand to her lips. "But-" she choked back more emotions before they got the better of her. "I told you not to." Alicia reached up with her other hand and wiped away her blurry vision with the sleeve of her white and yellow high school jersey.

Maxine's plump cheeks drew up in a smile. "I just came to cheer for my favorite wrestler."

A perfect manicure on her shoulder pulled Alicia back over the guardrail. "Hey, The Goon! Great job out there tonight." Party Girl wiped some of the electric blue plant food off her face as she pulled her partner back up the ramp with an arm around her. Alicia looked back at Maxine and gave her friend a polite little wave. "Nice aim, by the way," said Party Girl.

"Than-"

Her partner rolled her eyes as she cut the reply off. "Think you could get a little more on me next time?" Alicia's face wrinkled in irritation. Party Girl shot her partner the Look and exclaimed, "Just kidding! You did great!"

The cut on Alicia's forehead had finally stopped bleeding so much, but she would need to look in the mirror to see the extent of the damage to her back. She reached up with a finger and probed inside her mouth. Nothing else was loose, but her left front tooth was somewhere in her digestive system. Skate Party watched themselves on the WarMachine walking arm-in-arm up the ramp. Alicia gave a bloody, mostly toothy smile, and Party Girl winced in horror.

Both women lumbered painfully through the winner's curtain, despite looking very much the losers of the altercation. The rookie searched the darkness for Sabrina and found her right beside Allen, same as before. Alicia turned to Party Girl and asked her, "Hey, can I have a second? I need to catch up."

Her partner grabbed Alicia's hand and replied, "Do you have to right now? Come on, bestie! Let's hit the pay window!"

Alicia's tone and expression got stern as she pulled her hand back. "I'll meet you at your dressing room. There's no rush."

"Fine," said Party Girl, as she turned and cold-shouldered her way out of the conversation.

Which was absolutely fine. Alicia approached Sabrina, face etched with concern. "Sabrina, oh my gosh, I'm so sorry."

Sabrina shook her head and snarked back, "You did that one already. You look rougher than me, anyway. Good thing you work at a dentist office."

Alicia tongued at the fresh gap her smile and thought about it for a moment before answering, "I kinda like it."

A genuine smile lifted the veteran's scarred lips for a moment. "So you a garbage wrestler now?"

"Um," replied Alicia, a bit taken aback.

"It's a term. It's a term," clarified Sabrina, seeming to clock that Alicia may have mistaken it for an insult. "Not necessarily one of endearment, but 'garbage wrestling' means the sorts of matches you've been getting up to. You're pretty good at it, but don't forget what I taught ya, alright? I'd take it personally." Sabrina cocked a eyebrow. "The Goon, huh?"

"It's my middle name. That's me: Alicia Goon Winthrop."

Sabrina smiled at her former student. "If you told me Goon's your middle name, I'd believe you."

"I wish. It's what I'd choose." said Alicia with a shy smile. "But it's Gretchen."

"I've heard worse," replied Sabrina. Alicia's smile wasn't shy anymore.

"Ladies," interjected Allen. "Are we chatting or running a show?"

The joviality drained from the veteran's face. "He's right. It was nice catching up, but you can't really come back to talk during a show. Allen's showing me how to run things," Sabrina explained. "I'm not a wrestler anymore." The rookie felt the same sick feeling as when she saw Sabrina laid out in a pool of her own blood before their match. Alicia's heart still hadn't hit bottom.

"Ladies, would you please wrap it up?"

A scowl overtook Sabrina's rugged features as she retorted, "Keep your fuckin' shirt on, Allen. I'm almost done." The man in the teal blazer gave a stern look before backing down. Sabrina looked back up at her former trainee. "Hard Times on Monday? Usual time?" She got a nod in response as Alicia excused herself with a polite little wave. She waved at Allen, also, but it was not as well received.

It took a second to adjust to even the dim backstage lighting as Alicia emerged from production and found herself immediately surrounded. Party Girl first, as usual. Her arms and legs were mottled with bruises and scrapes, although her face remained somehow immaculate. Really, the only visible flaw was the lingering scar of Black Violet's bite on the right side of her neck. More so than the litany of injuries Party Girl suffered in her match with Black Violet, Alicia suspected that scar was the reason Party Girl still nursed a grudge.

"Hey, bestie! An emergency vacation came up, and I have to go away for a week or so for a concert Kevvie's playing tomorrow near his hometown," Party Girl said as she gestured to her boyfriend dressed in his best purple leopard print suit. "Then we're going to stay about a week or so partying and hitting the white powder so no match next week, alright?"

"I didn't know you ski!" remarked Alicia with a smile. "No one around here does. We should go sometime!"

"Uh-" fumbled Party Girl. "Y- yeah. I love skiing."

"Always makes me nose run," interjected Keven Se7en. "'ittin' the snow." A broad smile spread across his lips as he shot Party Girl a glance.

"Where in England are you from?" asked Alicia.

Kev-sev puffed up with pride. "Darvingtonfordhamfordshire. Upon Avon."

"Which part of Australia is that?" asked Party Girl to deafening silence. "I'm getting distracted anyway. Let's put a pin in the skiing trip," said the fashion icon. With a grand gesture, Party Girl introduced the favor she wanted to ask, and by extension, Janice. "But you know what would be so much fun for you? Taking care of my royal precious while I'm gone!"

Alicia could no longer resist pushing back. "No! What?" 

Party Girl turned to Mr. Cattywampus and leaned in close to the bewildered feline in her assistant's arms. "Little bitty kitty-kins here doesn't travel well, so him hafta stay home!"

"Party Girl, you've seen where I live! No! You have a mansion. Full of staff. You have Janice. What are you doing?"

Party Girl lowered her tone more so than her voice, "Janice sucks with Mr. Cattywampus. Look at her arms. Don't do it for me or Mr. Cattywampus. Do it for Janice." I cannot believe you. 

Alicia asked again, "Did she get all those today?"

"Yes! Can you please take him? He was so nice to you at lunch!"

Alicia frowned harder on the inside than the outside, which was very impressive. "Do you have all the stuff I'll need?"

There was the Look. "Of course! I wouldn't just leave you hanging like that! Janice has everything in her car! She can even drive you home. How lucky is that! Look, Keven even brought your bag."

"Okay, we need some boundaries," said Alicia, yanking the gym bag from Keven's black satin-gloved hands as he produced it from behind his back. "I have everything in here. Fie on you! Do not touch my stuff."

Party Girl's face fell as she reached out to gently touch Alicia's arm and said with a soft voice, "Look, I'm sorry. I'm new to having a teammate, okay? I'm still learning. I'm sorry, I got too enthusiastic." 

Alicia sighed and nodded. "It's fine."

"And you're still taking care of my cat, right?"

Long, frustrated blink. Reluctant nod. Instant regret.

The celebrity's eyes lit up with inspiration. "Maybe you can even work on the Black Violet thing while I'm gone! So, anyway, Janice will-"

"Quit rushing me! Jeepers! I'm gonna hit the pay window, and then I'm going to change, and then," Alicia turned to Janice, finally introducing her to the conversation as a participant. "Where should I meet you?"

With a bored but businesslike tone, she replied, "I'll bring my car around and just wait, I guess. I drive a silver Zebop."

Alicia threw the strap of her gym bag over her shoulder and winced as it rubbed against a bruise from Kat hitting her with a flatscreen monitor. She asked "Are you in the VIP parking lot?" 

Janice's eyes met Alicia's with a deadpan stare. "... No."

"Right. Me neither," said Alicia, laying down the conversational shovel and excusing herself. Polite little wave. 

Angry footsteps echoed as Alicia stormed down the corridor. She wondered if winning the tag straps even was even worth the headache. Alicia resolved to look for a new tag partner when they lost the belts. Past the tunnel to the VIP parking lot and the showrunner's office, into the crank-turn hallway: a 90-degree right turn about twenty feet from a similar turn heading left. This seemed right. The other way from production was the lockers and the trainer's room near where she was attacked. Party Girl probably could have shown her the way, but Alicia was sore, tired, frustrated, and just wanted to be left alone.  

Wait. No I don't. With a gasp, she turned around, expecting to see those endless black eyes inches from hers. Nobody there. I did something stupid. Black Violet must have known Alicia would check behind her, so the nervous wrestler looked back over her shoulder toward the direction she had been going. Losing her nerve, Alicia turned and took a step back. No. She'd have followed me. The safest way would be forward. Once again, she turned around and took a few tentative steps. Pay window it is. Breathe in, breCLANG! 

Metal slammed against metal, and whatever it was, was above her. Her eyes shot to the ceiling. Another three-by-three gap had just opened up, exactly like the one she saw before, and from it plunged a figure of hate and shadow. Alicia cried out in pain as Black Violet came down on top of her, sending both women clattering to the recently buffed linoleum. "Alicia…" gurgled the tangle of sickly limbs woven around the terrified rookie. Alicia slapped and clawed at the slick floor from her belly as the raspy, wet breaths drew closer to her ear.

Alicia screamed and thrashed and fought against her captor like a straitjacket. Overwhelmed with pain and exhaustion, and ensnared in a cold, immovable grip, she could only scream, "HELP! SOMEBODY HELP! PLEASE, SOMEBODY HELP ME!"

A tangled mane of unkempt hair spilled onto the terrified wrestler's face, obscuring her vision. "Alicia." She felt an arm slither under her right armpit, allowing a set of gnarled claws to wrap around and latch tight onto Alicia's shoulder. Another clammy hand slapped and scratched at her neck and face as it reached for one of her braids. Seconds later, Alicia's head snapped to the side, causing the battered, exhausted wrestler to cry out in pain as Black Violet found a grip.

"No," Alicia whimpered, and then screamed as a mouthful of daggers pierced the side of her neck. Just like Party Girl. Blinding, white-hot pain shot through the flailing rookie's neck as sharpened teeth sunk into her throat, puncturing the unprotected flesh. Warm crimson bubbled up from the fresh wound and rolled down Alicia's neck and started to pool on the floor.

"Hey!" shouted an authoritative, familiar voice. "Get off her! If you want to fight, do it in the ring; not out here."

The weight lifted from Alicia's back as Black Violet rose to all-fours, peeling away the snarled black curtain from Alicia's vision. The Mother of Nightmares peered down at her victim with a bloody grin before scampering around the corner and out of sight. She was the third--and Alicia hoped final--person to taste Alicia's blood this evening. Judging from the pool of claret at her feet, Black Violet didn't appear to hit anything vital, as long as "the neck" didn't qualify as "vital." Alicia reached for her neck with her right hand to survey the damage as a pale hand reached down for the young wrestler. Red nail polish. Alicia gripped tight and rose to her feet with the assist. "You're just making friends all over the place, aren't you?" mused Helene. "Did you touch her-"

No. Enough. No more madness tonight. Alicia politely but firmly cut her boss off, "Helene, thank you. I'm taking care of it. I just want to get paid and go home. Please."

The majority co-owner studied the bruised, bloody, and chewed young wrestler in front of her. "Yeah. You should," she answered. "I think you earned it."