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. She 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 in their hands 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. Her stomach lurched as I.T. Factor gave her a Double Powerbomb onto the exposed glass to a horrific shatter-crunch that made the fans collectively wince. 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 an inadvisably bearded man in a too-tight polo. Each and every key seemed to have a thumbtack carefully glued to it. Alicia 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 and reached over the barricade for a folding chair as Kat slid into the ring. The unassuming Trace clutched the steel folding chair by the sides, raised it high in the air, and slammed the seat-back down onto Alicia's forehead. The world flashed and went momentarily dark.

"-cia!" 

And then snapped back into focus as the sound of her name in the crowd roused her back to consciousness. Who is that? Trace knelt down and rubbed her fingers roughly across Alicia's forehead, then dramatically turned her hand around to show Alicia her own blood. The Troubled Troubleshooter raised her 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. "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 ached as she crawled for the ring apron and tried to pull herself back up. Nearly to her feet, Alicia turned just in time to see Trace's boot barreling towards her. Stars exploded in Alicia's vision as her head snapped back and her feet flew out from beneath her. Something small tumbled down her throat, and 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 body slammed her back-first onto the thumbtack keyboard in the middle of the ring, eliciting a worryingly listless response from the thoroughly worked-over 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, wrapping her fingers around Trace’s ankle in a desperate shoestring tackle, sending the I.T. unprofessional face-first to the mat just as the chair started its downward trajectory towards Party Girl’s chest.

Alicia winced at re-aggravating her sore right hand, but with another tremendous surge of power, 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 leapt high into the air, attempting to land butt-first on top of the barely stirring fashion icon. 

As soon as Kat went 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 in a silent scream as she crushed the spiny equipment beneath her ample posterior.

"-licia!" There was that voice again.

Outside the ring, Trace had regained her bearings, and she still had control of the folding chair. The steel clattered into Alicia's mangled back, eliciting a cry of pure anguish. The rookie stumbled toward the barricade as the polo-clad woman wearing her blood like warpaint stalked closer and took another massive swing. 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 dropkicked the thumbtack keyboard between the Troubleshooter's shoulder blades. Alicia grabbed the barricade again and pulled herself up to find a gaggle of I.T. staff huddled around an unconscious techie. There would probably be an email about this at Kat's office on Monday.

"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 as she looked into the stands. "No way," she whispered, feeling goosebumps rising on her arms. There was a stir in the crowd as the second row stood up to let the frantic, salt-and-pepper-haired office manager shuffle closer to the gap that had opened in the human wall. It couldn't be, but it was. Alicia blinked in disbelief. "Miss Maxine?!"

The septuagenarian had something clutched tight to her body as she pushed through the crowd and 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.

"Miss Alicia, take it!" Maxine shouted.

Trace threw her head backwards and cracked Party Girl in the jaw as the fashion icon got to her feet, causing her to drop the keyboard and stumble towards the side of the ring. Just as Alicia grabbed the potted fern, so did Trace. 

Behind them, Party Girl coughed and screamed over the boisterous crowd, "The Goon!" 

Alicia turned to find Kat Cable had reached through the top and middle rope and looped what looked like a phone cord around Party Girl’s throat. Alicia and Trace leaned over the barricade, struggling for possession of nature's cruelest joke. Trace reached with her free hand for one of Alicia’s french braids. Meanwhile, Alicia thought she could go for some nachos.

With one hand still firmly gripped around the miserable 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, bloody smile spread across her 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 pull the potted fern back over the barricade while a few noodly arms in the front grasped in vain for the wilted weapon.

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 pot exploded 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, grabbed Kat around the back of the head, and dropped to her butt on the floor, snapping Kat's throat across the center strand. The sadistic supervisor bounced off the rope and landed in a seated position on the mat, eyes closed, chin resting against her chest, not moving. 

Party Girl slid back inside the ring and sprinted towards the far ropes, ricocheting back at speed. She leapt into the air and cracked the motionless Kat Cable in the temple with a scintillating side kick she "The Unvitation" as she passed by, filling the arena with the hideous smack of shoe leather against skull. Kat slumped to the mat, allowing Party Girl to roll her onto her back for the cover. The referee dove to the canvas beside them for the count. 

"One!"

Trace must have heard the ref 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, spun the teary-eyed combatant around, and doubled 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 crowd-popping crash of glass and plastic.

"Three!" 

Ding ding ding.

The cheers turned deafening 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, she summoned the will to stand up while Party Girl danced and posed in the ring as the referee raised her hand in victory. Alicia watched as her partner pulled her hand free, 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. That's going to be a rough team huddle.

Alicia found Maxine in the stands and leaned over the now-empty front row seats to hold 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," Maxine replied, tightening her grip on Alicia's hands. "Whenever they say you're gonna fight, I'm here."

Alicia 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." She reached up with her other hand and wiped away the forming tears with the sleeve of her white and yellow high school jersey.

Maxine's plump cheeks drew up in a smile. "I'm always going to show up to support my favorite wrestler."

A perfect manicure on Alicia's shoulder pulled her 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 led her partner back up the ramp. "Nice aim, by the way."

Alicia looked back at Maxine and gave her friend a polite little wave. "Than-"

The fashion icon rolled her eyes. "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--probably a couple of them--to see the extent of the damage to her back. She reached up with a finger and probed inside her mouth. Nothing 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 crimson, still mostly toothy smile to the camera as Party Girl's face contorted in horror. Both women lumbered painfully through the winner's curtain despite looking very much the losers of the bout. There was Sabrina next to Allen at the showrunner's desk, same as before. 

"Hey, can I have a second?" asked Alicia. "I need to catch up."

Party Girl grabbed her by the hand. "Do you have to right now? Come on, bestie! Let's hit the pay window!"

Alicia's tone grew 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 and called in a voice thick with concern, "Sabrina, oh my gosh, I'm so sorry."

Her mentor 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 in her smile and thought for a moment before answering, "I kinda like it."

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

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

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

"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," said Alicia with a shy smile. "But it's Gretchen."

"I've heard worse," replied Sabrina. The shyness left Alicia's smile.

"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." Alicia felt the same sick feeling as when she saw Sabrina laid out in a pool of her own blood before their match. Her 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 her a stern look before backing down. Sabrina looked back up at her former trainee. "Hard Times on Monday?" She got a nod in response as Alicia excused herself with a polite little wave. She also waved at Allen, 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 in another three-on-one ambush as Party Girl, Keven Se7en, and Janice surrounded her. Party Girl's arms and legs were covered in bruises and scrapes, but her complexion once again remained immaculate, if somewhat muddy and slightly blue. Really, the only visible flaw was the lingering scar of a bite mark 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, so I have to go away for a week and a bit for a concert. Kevvie's playing tomorrow near his hometown," Party Girl said as she gestured to her boyfriend dressed in his finest tie-dye 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!" Alicia remarked. "No one around here does. We should go sometime!"

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

"Always makes me nose run, 'ittin' the snow," added Keven with a smile as he shot Party Girl a little glance.

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

"Darvingtonfordhamfordshire," said Keven, puffing up with pride. "Upon Avon."

"Do they have kangaroos there?" asked Party Girl to deafening silence. "Whatever. Let's put a pin in the skiing trip." 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 presh-presh while I'm gone!"

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

Party Girl turned to Mr. Cattywampus and leaned in nose-to-nose with the bewildered feline in Janice's arms. "Widdle itty bitty kitty-kins here don't twavel well, so him hafta stay home!"

"Party Girl, you've seen where I live!" Alicia protested. "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?" pleaded Party Girl. "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! Janice has everything in her car. She can even drive you home. How lucky is that! Look, Keven even brought your bag."

Keven produced the white and maroon gym bag from behind his back. 

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

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

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

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

Long, frustrated blink. Reluctant nod. Instant regret.

Party Girl'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 going to 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?"

Janice replied in a bored but businesslike tone, "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 a flat-screen monitor. "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. 

Angry footsteps echoed as Alicia stormed down the corridor. She wondered if winning the Queens of War Tag Team Championship was even worth the headache. Alicia promised herself to start looking for a new tag team partner soon as they lost the belts. She breezed past the tunnel to the VIP parking lot and the showrunner's office, into the crank-turn hallway: a 90-degree right turn about 20 feet from a similar turn heading left. This seemed like the right way. Party Girl could have shown her, 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. 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. Whatever it was, was above her. Alicia's eyes shot to the ceiling. Another three-by-three gap, exactly like the one she saw before, and 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 clawed at the slick floor on her belly, thrashing against her captor like a straitjacket as the raspy, wet breaths drew closer to her ear. 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 black hair spilled onto Alicia's face, obscuring her vision. 

"Alicia!"

Alicia felt a set of gnarled claws latch tight onto her sore shoulder, while another clammy hand slapped and scratched at her neck and face as it reached for one of her braids. Seconds later, her 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 her neck, ripping open the unprotected flesh. A tide of warm blood bubbled from the fresh wound and spilled onto the floor.

"Hey!" shouted a 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 the snarled black curtain peeled from her eyes. Black Violet 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 her blood this evening. Alicia reached for the gashed-open flesh to survey the damage as a pale hand reached into view. Red nail polish. Alicia gripped tight and rose to her feet with the assist. 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.

"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."

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